Stained Glass Shards

37.

"You wouldn't know greatness if it bit you in the ass." Griffin countered.

Ritter turned toward him. "I know that you think you can piss off anyone you want and not have any repercussions. Hollywood is small, but it has a long-term memory. There are people in Hollywood who've been blacklisted for doing less than you." Griffin listened with narrowed eyes, shaking his head. "I'm giving you five seconds to leave," Rit threatened.

My eyes locked with Griffin, pleading with him to leave. Ritter held me tightly against his body, possessing me literally and figuratively.

With a bowed head, Griffin started toward the door. "This is not over," he warned.

"I hope you enjoyed filming your show," Ritter called after him. "It'll be your last."

I tugged at Ritter's shirt, prompting him to stop his taunts.

Griffin had given up. He was leaving, but the ridicule prompted him to stop. "Do you want to let me in on something you clearly know?" He walked toward us.

Ritter smirked, releasing me.

Both men were equally matched in height, with Ritter slightly more muscular and heavier. However, his bravado was on par with Griffin's. They looked like lions daring the other to strike first. As if I were a prized meal, Ritter placed me behind him, and I peered around his frame to watch each of their movements.

"Nothing that you don't already know. That the world hasn't heard. The almighty Griffin Belanger can't get representation or a job to save his fleeting career."

"You do know something." Griffin stared Rit down, crossing his arms as he planted himself on the spot. He waited until Ritter responded.

Ritter shrugged. "I can make this all go away, but you have to keep away from Elyce." He offered confidently.

"You can make what go away? What power do you have?"

"I have more than you can imagine. I know more people than you'd ever think. I have stakes in companies you've only dreamed of working with."

"You did this," Griffin shouted. He looked at me accusingly. "Did he do this to me? Did your boyfriend fuck up my career?"

"Griffin, I don't know what either of you are talking about."

"If you did something . . . I swear I will—"

"What?" Ritter challenged, moving forward. "You'll still be some forgotten, out-of-work actor who has spiraled out of control."

Griffin charged Ritter, swinging at his face. Ritter deflected as he turned his body, pushing Griffin, who had turned with his punch. He fell to his knees but popped up instantly. With all his might, he landed a punch to Ritter's stomach, and Ritter doubled over.

"NO! STOP IT!" I yelled. I feared I wouldn't be able to stop them from beating each other.

Unfazed, Ritter grabbed Griffin by the shoulder and landed a swift knee to the groin, pushing him to the ground. I pulled at Ritter, who had the upper hand. Griffin struggled to stand with Ritter's weight on his back.

A knock and call at my door had me stop as the two men struggled at my feet.

"Security," I heard from out in the hall. "Is everything alright in there?"

I ran to the door, feeling certain that help had arrived. "Help!" I begged the security officer. I had taken for granted the twenty-four-hour security personnel that Lark had insisted on when I'd decided to buy a condo.

The two men continued tussling on the floor. Punches and kicks connected with jaws and torsos. The guard pulled Ritter off Griffin. He was disheveled—tousled wavy hair, red-faced, and stretched out t-shirt. He inhaled deeply as the guard pushed him against the wall.