The times we weren’t together were the times I wanted him most. And no one else’s.” To prove his point, Mickey sent two thugs to hunt down Meisel, and when they found him in a New York City elevator, they stole his signature floppy hat and took Polaroids of the terrified photographer. ” Mickey parked the car and leaned toward me, his voice soft but firm. I stepped out of the car and turned around to grab my purse.

I panicked, wondering which was more important: my life or covering up the fact that I’d been shot with Mickey Rourke’s gun?

I could tell he had grave concerns that the press would get wind of the incident. My mother came to see me in Santa Fe as I recuperated.

Mickey’s anxiety attack that morning should have made it clear to me that he, too, was doing it for the wrong reasons.

A justice of the peace oversaw our vows as we stood several feet from a Dumpster in Golden Gate Park.

The police questioned me, but no charges were filed.

The bullet had entered just two inches from my heart. I recognized his standard my-way-or-the-highway ultimatum in all this, but it was tinged with a threat of a different kind this time. I will marry you.” Mickey and I were married the next day, June 26, in my hometown of San Francisco.He is one of the successful actors in the industry.Now remarried, drug-free and the mother of two daughters, Otis recounts their dangerous passion in her new memoir, “Beauty, Disrupted.” An excerpt: There are moments in life that define us. And one of those defining moments for me was the first time I met the man who would become my first husband. I will never forget the lone figure hunched in a corner. I walked through the door of director Zalman King’s house, and I changed my life. There at an open kitchen table, with stringy dark hair shrouding his face, trembling hands lifting a dainty saucer of coffee to his lips, sat the famed Mickey Rourke. My eyes rested momentarily on his hands, his pinkie finger raised as he took a sip of coffee from his cup. I knew that something was very wrong with this new life of mine. Mickey, for instance, had seen a naked photo of me, shot by the famously gay photographer Steven Meisel, for Vanity Fair. While he was doing all that he could to derail my career, Mickey was in Santa Fe, NM, filming “White Sands” with Willem Dafoe. We were almost at the restaurant when I looked down and saw a .357 Magnum on the floor near my feet.