Dirty Boy (32 page)

When Story awakened, it felt as if her mouth had turned to cotton. She was momentarily disoriented before all that had happened hit her full force and she bolted up. Stumbling out of bed, she frowned at the sight of herself, dressed in one of the nightgowns she’d chosen the day she and Max had gone shopping.

That seemed like a lifetime ago. In actuality, three days had passed since then.

Story hurried through a shower and then dressed herself in one of her outfits from her backpack. She didn’t want Max’s expensive gifts.

Downstairs, she stopped dead in her tracks. Max sat at the counter, sipping coffee with a beautiful woman, busy at the kitchen sink. And not just any beautiful woman, but Babs, her mother, dressed in a sheath dress and tan colored pumps, her hair swept up.

“Mom! What are you doing here?” And at a kitchen sink? Her mom hadn’t washed dishes in years. “Why are you doing housework?”

“Max won’t call his maid, Story.” She cut a glare in the man’s direction. “If I want to eat here, I have to clean up behind myself."

“If you want to
stay
here,” Max corrected, not lifting his gaze from the newspaper.

Slamming the handle of the faucet down, Babs whirled on him. “You flew me out and got me here, but didn’t give me any money for anything else.”

“Welcome to my world,” Story grumbled, fisting her hands on her hips. “Why are you here?”

Babs blinked. “That should be obvious. You were hurt. You slept through yesterday. I was so worried this idiot had overdosed you.”

Max glared in warning at Babs and she snorted.

Story stared at Max. “You mean I slept twenty-four hours?”

“Between running away, walking for miles, getting your ass kicked, being left on the beach, two doses of morphine, and the events in between, I’m surprised you’re awake now,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“You look horrible,” Babs informed her. “With those awful bruises, you shouldn’t go out in public for at least two weeks.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Story said sarcastically. “Now, leave. You see that I’m fine, so go. I don’t want you here.”

A hurt look crossed Babs’s face. “I would’ve thought losing your virginity would’ve made you less uptight.”

Frustrated, Story threw her hands up in the air. “You’re freaking insane! Leave. Please?” she added for good measure.

“Story, listen to me. I’m sorry about what I told Max.”

That caught both Max’s and Story’s attention.

“You are?” she said as Max asked, “What do you mean?”

She sighed. Awaiting her mother’s confession, a sense of vindication grew in Story. She threw Max a smug smile.

“Barbra?” Max encouraged in a lethally soft voice.

“I never should’ve told you what I did, Max. I broke my daughter’s confidence and that was wrong of me. I swore if she stole Winston’s checkbook, I’d never divulge her role.”

It took Story a moment for her mother’s exact words to sink in. Her sense of victory at Max discovering how wrong he’d been about her diminished. Blood rushed to her head and she swayed, flinching at the bitter anger returning to Max’s face.

“You’re a liar, Mother,” she said in a tone she didn’t recognize as her own. She’d never, ever spoken to her mom in such a manner. When Babs had been at her most frustrating and evasive, Story had always given her the respect she deserved as a parent.

Shame flitted across Babs’s face, though Max didn’t see it. He was too busy trying to riddle Story’s body with bullets from his looks alone.

“I’m not going to continue to defend myself to you, Max,” she said with cool dignity. “Before I left, I’d spent almost a week trying to convince you of my innocence. You choose to believe
her
over me. Your decision. But I’m done with your accusations.
You
have a decision to make now. If you want me to stay, I will, but shut up about my supposed guilt. If you can’t do that, I swear to you I’ll turn myself in to the cops and let the chips fall where they may.”

Of all the fucking bullshit he’d ever heard, Story’s ultimatum took the Bullshit Award. It was just this scenario that he hadn’t want to face. The little bitch knew he wanted her with him, so she was using that against him. His goodwill toward her evaporated. She had him right where she wanted him. Because the reckless little cunt
would
turn herself in.

With a surface calm that belied the rage brewing inside of him, he folded the newspaper and set it aside. “I’m not the one who brought the embezzlement up,” he reminded her. “Excuse me for the righteous anger I feel over how you bamboozled my father.”

“Winston’s a grown man. If he wasn’t doing anything about it, it wasn’t your place to. Besides, having me fuck you isn’t repaying
him
. It’s getting
your
nuts off.”

Max opened his mouth to blast her, but she continued on.

“If I had taken the money, I would tell you. Don’t you know
anything
about me by now? Of course not. You’re too lost in your unfair judgment. I’m guilty by association.”

“No, you’re guilty by your mother’s admission.” He nodded to Barbra who seemed more than satisfied at the argument between him and Story. “If you two were on the outs, I might believe she’d lied on you, but in her own fucked-up, crazy, flighty, selfish way, she loves you.”

“Hey,” Barbra said with a frown.

“Get out, Mom!” Story screeched. “I don’t want you here. I never want to see you again for as long as I live. It’s because of you, I have to suffer
him
.”

Barbra’s frown deepened. “What do you mean? Does he hit you?”

“What?” Story asked, perplexed before her eyes widened and she caught on to her mother’s insinuation. “Oh my God! You believe he abused Kayleigh?”

“Well, does he?” Barbra went on as if Story hadn’t spoken.

“No, Mom.”

“Grow up,” her mom snapped, as if she had a right to her anger. “Take what’s been handed to you. If I’ve done nothing else for you, I’ve done
this.
Open your eyes and understand.”

Max squinted at her. “What have you handed to her?”

“Yes, Mom. What? Your lies have put me in his clutches.”

“No,
you
put you in his clutches,” she argued. “You contacted Ryker.”

“I know. But he became impossible when you said I helped you and then split the money you stole.”

Max shook his head. “I didn’t become impossible. I merely stated how I saw you.”

“Right,” Story agreed, blinking away her tears.

Clenching his jaw, hating to see her so sad, Max turned away from her. “Go back to bed. You’re not strong enough for this at the moment.”

“You haven’t given me an answer,” she shot back, her stubbornness grating on his nerves.

He rinsed out his cup, managing not to crush it between his hands. “I won’t bring up your role,” he relented with burning anger, thinking of ways to repay her persistence. “Now, get upstairs and wait for me. I’m due a dick suck.”

He glared at her, but couldn’t hold her gaze when he saw the dashed hope on her face. Her disappointment turned into stoic acceptance. Not responding, she turned and went back upstairs.

“You shouldn’t treat Story like that,” Barbra chided. “She’s right. Screwing her isn’t getting your father’s money back. We spent that within the week.”

“Get out, Barbra.”

Indecision tore across her face before she rushed to him. “Please, Max,” she whispered. “Story won’t be twenty-one for another ten months. She’s young. If you want a reason for her to stay, don’t make it be about Winston’s money. You all have more than enough where what we took shouldn’t matter.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind? It’s the principle.”

She nodded. “You…you’re right. What happened was my idea, not Story’s. She never would’ve done this.”

His doorbell rang and Max left Barbra to answer it. Opening it, it surprised him to find Winston standing there.

“Son,” he started, brushing past him without an invitation and crashing to a halt. “Babs?” he gasped. “What are you doing here?” He glanced at Max. “What’s she doing here?”

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Max strode past Winston. “Story’s here, Dad. Injured, remember? I thought Barbra would want to be at her side. But she was just leaving.”

“Story doesn’t want me here,” she said in a small voice. “She’s angry because I broke my silence.”

Winston nodded, overwhelming sadness darkening his eyes.

“I don’t have the money to change the plane ticket, Max,” she said. “If you’ll pay the fee for it and the cost of a cab to the airport, I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

“Done.” His stupidity got her there in the first place.

“How long had you intended to stay?” Winston asked. “Out of curiosity’s sake.”

“A week.”

“Story will get over her anger. You should stay and—”

“And nothing, Dad. Story doesn’t want her here and I sure as fuck don’t, so she goes.” He was already pulling out his cell phone to make the call to change her plane ticket.

“You could always stay at the house, Babs,” Winston began.

“No, she can’t!” Max inserted, outraged that his father entertained the idea. “Do you remember what she did?”

“Yes, damn it, I do!” Winston turned bleak eyes on Max. “I’m not taking her back. I’m extending a courtesy.”

Max didn’t believe that for one goddamn minute. “Why are you here?”

“I was in the neighborhood, so I decided to check on Story.”

Yeah, and fucking wings would sprout out of his ass. “You knew Barbra was here, didn’t you?”

“Eric might’ve let it slip,” Winston admitted.

For fuck’s sake.

Max swore real gratitude shone in Barbra’s eyes as she excused herself to get her things from the guestroom he’d allowed her to use. However, as his father and the woman left, Max decided not to concern himself with
their
relationship.

He already had his hands full with his own.

At the knock on her door, Story slid deeper under the covers. A dick suck was the last thing she wanted to give at the moment. Not only because she was in a lot of pain, but because she was angry.

A second knock accompanied the opening door, and she scowled at Max. He halted, hand on the knob.

“Your mother’s gone.”

“Good.” She would never talk to Babs again, though her continued lies shouldn’t have surprised Story. If only she understood
why
her mother was framing her. At least with the identity theft, she’d known it was Babs’ want of money. These lies, on the other hand, benefited no one.

“I have errands to run,” Max said into the silence.

She wouldn’t bring up the dick suck he’d mentioned downstairs, if he didn’t. “Have fun,” she said instead, refusing to go down the road of where he might be going or who he might be seeing.

He nodded, uncertainty sliding across his face. He looked as vulnerable as she felt.

“I don’t mean to seem ungrateful about Mom. Thank you for bringing her here.”

“I called to inform her of your injuries, and she began to cry. Even I’m not heartless enough to ignore her tears of concern toward you.”

At the moment, Max didn’t appear heartless at all. She understood him and the reason for his attitude. He’d suffered a great trauma. It was a wonder he functioned at all. She wasn’t taking away the fact that Kayleigh hadn’t been in her right mind when she’d done all the things she had, but Max needed someone in his corner, too. Whether he liked it or not, or wanted to admit it or not.

“I was very worried about you when I found you gone,” he admitted.

The statement surprised her. She would’ve thought he would’ve been happy to be rid of her. “You were?”

“I’m…I…” He allowed his voice to trail off. Finally, he gave her an inscrutable look. “Don’t leave again. You could’ve been hurt worse than you were.”

“I know. I was lucky.”

“Yes.”

She expected threats and insults.

Max offered her a small smile, then started out. “See you later,” he said, and closed the door without another word.

Story didn’t see him again until he opened the door without warning, much later that evening, carrying a tray.

“I figured you were hungry,” he said, setting it on the bed.

She frowned at the sight of a lump floating amidst steaming red broth, surrounded by chunks of avocado and melted cheese.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Taco soup,” Max answered and shoved his hands into his pockets.

So the congealed lump had to be the tortilla shells. She saw no sign of the ground beef, beans, or sour cream.

“Who—”

“Me,” he answered with a lift of his brow, as if he dared her to comment on the appearance of the soup. “I cooked it. I thought soup would aid in your recovery.”

She debated on whether or not she should chance eating it. It didn’t have the most appealing presentation. But she was hungry and, if she wanted to be completely honest, the thought of Max cooking this for her after their latest argument, touched her. “You can be so thoughtful sometimes,” she said, taking care and sliding to the edge of the bed. She stirred the contents of the bowl.

Spooning some of the juice and a piece of avocado, she blew on it to cool it off. When she tasted, she found it rather good. Not the best, but not the worst either.

“Did you eat already?” she asked, going in for another spoonful.

“I did. For my first time, I don’t think I did too bad.” He sounded quite proud of himself.

She smiled, enjoying this peace between them, wishing it could be like this all the time. “I have to agree.” For a few minutes she ate in silence, surprised when he seated himself next to her. “When’s the last time you cooked?”

“Something as major as soup? Never.”

“Soup isn’t a big deal, Max. The hardest part is the preparation.”

“For you, perhaps. But for me it was a major undertaking.”

“Then why do it? Why not order in?”

“What do you want me to say, Story? I already told you I cooked for you.”

“Yes. You also bought me clothes. This is a side of you I’d love to see more of.”

He glanced away and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I return to the set tomorrow.”

Yes, of course he did.

“With your injuries, you can’t do any scenes, so we’ve called in another actress on our roster.”

Losing her appetite, Story returned the nearly empty bowl to the tray, jealousy burning through her.

“You know, you’re the biggest jerk on the planet to me most of the time, but the thought of you going to another woman to have sex with her is killing me.”

He sighed. “Here we go.”

“No, Max. I’m not in a position to give you any type of ultimatum.”

“Even if you were, I’d expect you to understand what my job means to me.”

“Oh, I do.” She stood and faced him. “Believe me I do. It’s your means to legitimately cheat. I have no choice but to fuck everything I see because it’s my job. What you do is almost worse than having a secret mistress.”

“How’s that? I’d think the lies and deception would be more detrimental. I didn’t cheat on Kayleigh. I only fucked other women in front of the goddamn camera. Otherwise, I fucked her. What is so fucking hard to understand that my job is no different than if I went to the studio and directed the goddamn movies, rather than starring in them? I didn’t cheat and for you to suggest that, insults the fuck out of me. My wife never accused me of that.”

“Because she knew it wouldn’t have made a difference to an entitled asshole like you. And Kayleigh’s dead, Max. She’s
dead
and she’s never coming back. It’s time you let her go.”

“I let her go four years ago. I fucking detest her.”

“I don’t think you do. I think you’re angry with her and hate what she did, but I think the person you detest is
you
. Deep down, you know you could’ve compromised. You
should’ve
compromised. Met her halfway and walked away from the business at some point. But, as always, it was your way or no way. With me, I hate that you do it but I understand I’m nothing but a fuck to you. But she was your wife. She deserved more than the disrespect you gave to her, your marriage, and then your son.”

Although Max’s eyes glittered, he’d turned white as a sheet. Perhaps, that’s why he didn’t say anything to her. He stood up and stared at her for a very long time. Regret sat heavy in Story. She’d allowed her misplaced jealousy to overtake her. She should never had said any of what she had to Max. Not because he didn’t deserve the words. It simply wasn’t her place.

Without speaking, he stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Not long afterwards, she heard the sound of the front door opening and closing, and she knew he’d left her for the night.

Max called Kelan and asked if he could crash at his place. He didn’t want to be anywhere near Story. No one, not one fucking person, had ever had the audacity to speak to him as she did.

Her behavior tonight was a prime goddamn example of why he didn’t compromise. At some point, he’d allowed her to slip past his defenses. Not all the way. He was stronger than that, but just enough to where her words affected him.

At Kelan’s, he found his friend watching an old action adventure movie. He didn’t question him and Max didn’t volunteer any information. He didn’t say much of anything, so he didn’t know if Addie would arrive or not. If she did, Max intended to tell her to visit Story.

She didn’t come. When Kelan turned in, Max was unable to sleep, and was happy when the time came for him to head in to work. Not surprisingly, a temp took Ryker’s place. As Eric ran through Max’s scenes and positions for the long day, the fierceness in Story’s voice, the stubborn look on her face, bounced in Max’s head.

No one had ever gotten in his head and fucked with him as much as her. Whether she infuriated him, amused him, or aroused him, she affected him. At every turn, she challenged him. When he was supposed to have the upper hand, she flipped it around and took it away. Either by refusing to let anything get her down, thumbing her nose at his dickish behavior, or telling him exactly how she felt.

From the moment she’d agreed to
his
terms, she’d been in control, without realizing it. He knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t want control. She’d want fairness. Something she was more than due.

Because, at the end of the day, she was right—once again. Fucking her didn’t affect his father one way or the other. Winston couldn’t have cared less that Max used Story as “revenge”.

“Max, are you fucking listening to me?” Eric barked out. “I’m doing the hard and soft shots at the same time.”

“Hey, Max,” Vista greeted, bouncing to his side. “Do you need anything right now?”

“Not at the moment,” he responded, the thought creeping into his head un-fucking-believable. The thought that maybe,
just maybe
, he needed to rethink his actions. Once her contract was up, only a dirty move from him, to corner her into extending it, would make her stay.

Unless he gave her another reason not to leave.