Killian: A West Bend Saints Romance (43 page)

"
C
hampagne
?" The flight attendant paused at my seat.

"Please," I croaked, my voice hoarse. When she returned, I took the glass, my hand trembling, and downed it in one gulp.

The flight attendant paused. "Another?" she asked, and I nodded. "Ms. Andrews?"

"Yes?" I whispered. I looked at her from underneath my sunglasses. I knew I looked pretentious, but I was beyond caring now. My head was pounding.

"Let me know if there's anything else you need," she said. "My daughter is just your biggest fan. She'll be thrilled to know that you were on my flight."

I forced a smile. "Would she like an autograph?"

The flight attendant beamed. "That would be wonderful," she said. "I'll get a pen."

I drifted through the rest of the flight, thinking about Elias. I felt like someone punched me in the stomach, my guts tied up in knots at the thought of going back to my old life.

It was cruel the way life worked sometimes, showing you how things could be, giving you a momentary glimpse of happiness...and then yanking it away once you'd tasted it.

I didn't know how I could go back to my old life.

I didn't know that I wanted to go back to it.

"
Y
ou've been moping
around here for the past two weeks now," Silas said. "Showing up at the bar and shit. You don't even drink anything, just scare people off with your motherfucking depression."

"Fuck you," I said. "You're a bouncer. Scaring people off is a good thing."

"You even going to tell me what she said?" he asked. "You're so goddamn cryptic about it. You don't say anything about it. I have to find out on one of those gossip sites that she even dumped your ass."

"Nothing to tell," I said. "It happened like you said it would."

"Well, fuck that bitch, then," Silas said. "I mean, I wouldn't want to look at your ugly mug, but still, fuck her."

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," I said. "You gone out to mom's lately? Got anymore conspiracy theories about what's going on in this town?"

"I still maintain that shit wasn't an accident," Silas said. "But I'm leaving it alone. If mom whacked the asshole over the head with a rock, more power to her. He deserved it."

"Glad to hear you're finally being reasonable," I said. "Now if you can just convince mom to be reasonable."

"About what?"

"I don't know," I said. "She's got some kind of offer on the land. Wouldn't show me the paperwork. I told her she needed to show it to a lawyer, see if it's a fair deal."

"This is what I'm talking about," Silas said. "He dies, and she gets an offer on the property?"

I sighed. "They're not related, you moron," I said. "That developer is trying to buy up lots of property around here, some mining company or shit. Don't you read the shit they put out- the notices?"

"Fuck, no."

"You want to go by mom's this weekend?" I asked. "See if maybe you can talk some sense into her, get her to at least consider whatever they're offering her for the property. I'm worried she's going to miss the opportunity to cash that hellhole in for what she can get, and then she'll have nothing. I'm sure she's got nothing."

A dark look crossed Silas' face. "Can't this weekend," he said.

"What, you got something better going on?" I asked. "Don't even try to bullshit me, I already asked Roger and he said you're not bouncing this weekend."

"I just can't," Silas said. "Mind your own damn business, all right?"

"Fine," I said, standing up to leave. "But see if you can talk some sense into her too. I'm going to go see her this afternoon. You're her favorite. I'm bad cop. You go play good cop."

"I'll talk to her when I get back," Silas said.

"Good."

I didn't know what the hell Silas had going on, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good. He looked like he was burning the candle at both ends, more so the past two weeks. The skin under his eyes was dark, and he looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

It better not be his conspiracy theories keeping him awake
, I thought.

Of course, I doubted I looked much better either. Looking at him was like looking in the mirror.

Instead of sleeping, I found myself keeping tabs on River like some kind of celebrity stalker. At first, I'd tried to ignore everything that went between us, pretend like it never happened. But then I went home to my new house, the place I was renting, and all the damn silence got to me.

I should have gone to stay with my mom, but the thought of going back to that hellhole was too depressing, so I'd rented a place. And then, with too much time on my hands, I couldn't get my mind off of River, thinking about what she was doing now, what she was wearing, how she smelled...how she tasted when I put my mouth between her legs.

I couldn't get her out of my head. She'd taken up residence there, and wouldn't let me go.

She was on a movie set, some romantic comedy about a small-town girl and a famous guy. Ironic, that.
Small Town Love
was the name of it. Her movie studio had issued a statement - she was here in West Bend doing in-depth research for her film.

Real fucking in-depth.

I wondered if that's really all it was, between her and me. Research.

The gossip sites said she'd gotten a new place, cut her mom off financially. I was pissed as hell at her for leaving like she did, but I couldn't help but feel secretly proud of her for jettisoning her toxic mother from her life.

And then there was the speculation about her recently-divorced costar, apparently one of Hollywood's most eligible bachelors. They'd been photographed outside the set, his hand on her arm.

If I ever met the guy in person, I'd fucking throttle him.

She hadn't issued a statement about anything. I wanted to know what the hell she would say.

B
randon reached for my hand
, covering it with his. "Why don't you come by tonight," he said. "You can cry on my shoulder."

I pulled my hand back like I'd been electrocuted. "I'm not really looking for anything more than friends," I said. Brandon, my co-star, seemed nice enough at first, all sympathetic after I'd gotten back from West Bend and was just pissed off at having to be on set.
No offense taken,
he'd said, grinning, when I told him I just didn't have it in me to be here.

He was recently divorced himself, and said he understood the feeling. Sitting in his trailer right now, though, I was definitely getting a creep vibe from him.

I was regretting going to his trailer to read over lines, and I was regretting talking to him about Elias. Brandon laughed. "I wasn't suggesting we'd be anything more than friends," he said. "But friends can still screw, can't they?

"Thanks but no thanks," I said, turning to leave. "I'm all right with my lines, actually. We can read on set."

He smirked. "What, you only got a thing for guys with one leg now?" he said, reaching for my wrist. I tried to pull it from his grip, but he squeezed it tightly.

"Let go of my wrist."

"Come on, River," he said. "Don't be such a bitch. Viper was right. He said you were frigid."

"Don't you fucking say shit about me." I slapped him across the face with my free hand, and watched his expression change to one of rage.

He pushed me up against the wall, and the only thing I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears, my breath short.

"Fuck you, Brandon." I spit out the words. "Get the hell away from me."

Brandon ran his hand over my breast, and I tried to push it away, but he pinned my arms above my head. "Maybe the problem is you need a real man to warm you up," he said, reaching between my legs.

I struggled, trying to move his hand away with my leg, but he shoved his fingers inside my panties.

"Definitely frigid," he said. "But I can make you wet."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I screamed, but he covered my mouth with his, forcing his tongue inside mine.

"You like it a little rough too," he whispered. "That's what Viper said."

There was a knock at the door, and it flew open. "Roger said River was in here reading lines with -" she stopped, backing up. "Oh, sorry to interrupt!"

I screamed, this time at the top of my lungs, and Brandon looked stunned for a moment, letting go of me.

The crew member, someone I didn't know, stood there, staring, unmoving. But her presence was enough.

I kneed Brandon in the balls as hard as I could. Then I grabbed the nearest thing to me, this vase of flowers on a table, and threw it at his head.

He ducked. "You bitch," he yelled, doubled over as he lunged for me, still clutching his balls. "You better be glad that didn't hit me."

The crew member's eyes were wide, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door.

"
He
was the one who assaulted
me
." My words came in gasps, my breath short. I couldn't get enough air.

I held her arm, feeling dizzy.

"I don't want to be here," I said, before I collapsed onto the pavement.

I
was working
on this piece in the garage, music turned up so loud I could barely think. That was one of the perks with this rental place - I had a garage I could work in, and I'd spent every waking moment since River had left turning this place into a workshop.

It gave me something to be obsessed with.

The problem was, even with this stuff to work on, it was too quiet. Just me and my thoughts.

I was having a hell of a time. And not in a good way.

Me and my thoughts...alone...weren't a good combination lately.

At least I wasn't thinking about Afghanistan. River had fucking replaced those dreams, had set up shop in my head, occupying my brain, her image replaying the horrific ones.

I wasn't sure it was a good thing.

I was so distracted by thoughts of her that I didn't hear the car pull up, or notice when Silas opened the door.

It wasn't until he yelled that I finally jumped. "Shit, Silas!"

I turned down the music, and set down the acetylene torch I was working with, pulled off my welding goggles. "What the hell, man?" I said. "You're like a fucking ghost or something. You ever heard of calling first?"

"Elias," he said. His face was pale. "It's mom."

"I just saw her yesterday," I said. "What's wrong?"

"I've been calling you non-stop for the past hour," he said. "You need to get in the car."

"What's going on?"

"Hurry up," he said, his voice clipped.

"Yeah, let me just go put something clean on," I said.

He shook his head. "Just get in the car, Elias."

"What the hell is going on, Silas?"

"Mom's in the hospital," he said. "I went to see her, found her in the bedroom. She tried to kill herself."

"No," I said, following him to the car.

"Come on," he said. "She's in the hospital. I called Luke. They set a Red Cross message to Killian."

"She was fine yesterday." I couldn't wrap my head around it.

Silas' face looked grim.

"
I
'm not finishing
the rest of the movie with that asshole." I heard myself yelling, the words coming out more like a screech. "I don't care about my fucking contract. I will press assault charges. There's no way the studio is going to make me finish the movie with him on set."

"No one wants to force the two of you to work together." The suit, one of the team the studio had sent down to pacify me, spoke. "Your feelings are justified. All of us want to put this behind us."

"But what?" I asked. "There's always a but." I didn't trust the studio, whatever bullshit they were about to try to sell me.

"The last thing the studio wants is negative publicity for the film," he said. "And I don't think you want that either, at this point, what with all the media attention you've had recently."

"Is that a threat?" I asked. "It sounds like a threat." That same familiar feeling of panic returned.

He waved dismissively. "Of course not, River," he said, his voice soothing. Patronizing. "But the film is nearly complete. Your scenes are essentially finished. The two that are left to film can be done are minor and can be done with a stand-in. It's possible for the movie to be finished without you even being on set."

"You mean I could be done," I said.

"Finished," he said.

"What's the catch?" I asked.

"No catch," he said. "You're free and clear. Done. There's an additional bonus for early completion."

"Hush money," I said.

He tsk-tsked me. "That's a tawdry way of thinking about it," he said. "It's simply a bonus for being so flexible, willing to complete the film ahead of schedule...and for your understanding of the importance of not drawing any more negative attention to the film."

It was hush money.

My head was spinning. I was done. Free and clear. I could go somewhere else. Do something else. Not this.

Take a vacation.

See the world.

Whatever the hell I wanted to do.

The problem was, the person I really wanted to see didn't want to see me.

"Where do I sign?" I asked.