Love Her Madly (30 page)

“No, Glo, you don't.”

Her eyes were burning. She was talking about the island.

“I was scared,” I said.

“I was scared, too.”

When I mustered the courage to look up again, she smiled at me through her anger, a quick, sad smile. She had been my best friend, my sister by choice, and I had let her down in the biggest way possible. I had come in to the theater wanting an apology, but now I realized that wasn't what needed to happen at all.

“I'm sorry I left you that night.”

She inhaled. “Thank you, Glo. That means a lot to me.”

“It's haunted me . . .” I heard my voice thicken and break.

“Glo. It's okay. I know you're sorry, but don't be. Not anymore. There really was no right decision.”

My vision went blurry under a gush of stealth tears. The relief I felt was beyond anything I expected. “I just wish—”

There was a subtle pressure change in the room, paired with a quick intrusion of street noise as the theater door quickly opened and shut. My tongue collapsed in my mouth like a popped tire.

Cyn clamped her hand onto my wrist and squeezed. “I thought I'd locked it,” she whispered, her eyes wide with fright. She pulled me to my feet and opened one of the set doors, which I knew did not lead anywhere at all. It was too late. Out of my peripheral vision, I saw a man enter the auditorium.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Raj

“Convincing as it looks, that door doesn't go anywhere, ladies,” I said.

Glo spun around to face me while Cyn remained halfway hidden behind the false wall.

“What are you doing here?” Glo demanded.

“Sorry, I thought this was my theater company.”

“It's past three. Shouldn't you be onstage?”

I sauntered down the steps, playing it cool. Cyn had emerged from behind the set and was watching me, her head lowered like a lioness tracking prey.

“I thought that maybe this was more important. They're going to fire me anyway.”

“What!” Glo exclaimed. “Are you kidding?”

“No. I'm not. Call me crazy, but I thought it was worth losing one acting job to make sure you were safe. Hello, Cyn.”

I took a seat in the first row of chairs, where I usually sat if I was directing, and crossed my legs. I was trying very hard to appear at ease, but sweat was already dotting my forehead.

“Hello,” she responded, her tone battling mine for the low end of the thermometer.

“How the hell did you know I was here?” Glo was half shouting. “Did you follow me?”

“Ted called me. I asked him last week to give me a heads-up if your ghostly best friend manifested at the bar.” Both women were glaring at me, and honestly, it felt great. I was burning my whole world down in a single day. It was the only way forward. “So, what did I miss? Are you besties again? Is she moving in with us?”

“Raj—” Glo began.

“You look right onstage, Cyn. You always were my favorite actress. You look really good on film, too.” I winked at her. I had never had the occasion to mine the true depths of my dickishness, and I found the waters were deep.

I saw her face go white. She took a step toward me. She knew exactly what I was talking about, just as I knew she would.

“Did you really think so, Raj?”

“Yes. I enjoyed many of your performances. Your costar, not so much. I would have recast him. Too desperate.”

I saw Glo step backward, toward the wall. Her face was blank with shock. She was still too stunned to be disgusted with me.

Cyn cast a look over her shoulder at Glo, and turned back to me. I saw something working behind her eyes, and my heart began to accelerate.

“And what exactly did you like about the videos, Raj?”

“Seeing you. Seeing you for what you really are. It was . . . a relief.”

She nodded, and paused, coyly slipping one foot out of her shoe and using it to casually scratch her calf, like some exotic bird. “And what am I?”

I let the question hang in the air as she lowered herself to a seated position at the edge of the stage. There was four feet of dead space between us. Her eyes glimmered challengingly in the low light, each blink an unspoken dare.

“A whore.”

Glo exhaled. A second later, Cyn's throaty laughter filled the silence.

“Oh, Raj, is that really the best you can do? Don't forget, I've been called that in five languages all across the national press.”

“It's the right term, though, isn't it? You use people. You're using Glo because you know she's got a soft spot for you. You use your body to get men to do what you want. You did it with McMurphy, and you did it with me.”

“And what did I want from you, Raj?”

She was mocking me. I felt a rush of anger and confusion.

“I don't know.”

“Love. I wanted your love.”

“Bullshit.”

“It's true. But I gave up on that dream when it became clear that all you wanted from me was sex. And when I finally gave it to you after your months of pathetic, ceaseless begging, the light went out of your eyes. You were disappointed.”

“No.”

“Yes. But I know it wasn't my failing. I was a practiced, ­professional-grade whore by then. Did you know that?”

I could see a fucking twinkle in her eye. She knew that Glo hadn't told me. She knew, and she thought it was funny. I stood and moved toward her, like she was an electromagnet, sucking me out of my seat.

“You think it's funny?”

“I do. I think it's a very funny joke. I think your feelings for me were always a joke. Always more about you and what you needed and what you could get out of me. And for what? Your silly little ego. Do you remember those last nights we spent together?”

I stared at her, unable to speak.

“All those things you let me do to you? Well, here's a secret: I didn't enjoy it. I thought maybe if we fucked enough I might feel something real, but you just couldn't turn it on for me. I was faking all of it, every moan, every orgasm, just like you were any other sad, pathetic john.”

She smiled at me with vicious sweetness, and then next thing I knew, my hands were around her throat. I wasn't squeezing, I know that. Through a great force of will, I kept them relaxed, but I felt the hot flesh of her neck against my palms and the delicate contours of her windpipe, so vulnerable in my grasp. What a glory it would be to squeeze. I felt a rumble beneath my hands and realized she was speaking.

Glo was shouting so loudly that I could barely hear what Cyn was saying. She looked at me evenly, and there was no fear in her face. I leaned in closer so I could look her directly in the eye.

“Do it!” she urged as the tears began pooling in the corner of her eyes. “Do it. I'd rather die by the hands of someone I once loved than by some hired thug.”

The fierce certainty of her words shocked me out of my rage tunnel, and I pulled my hands from her as if scorched. Glo's arms were around my neck, yanking me backward. I stumbled and fell against the seats, landing hard on the floor.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Glo was shouting. I cowered as she came dangerously close to kicking me, opting instead for the seat beside my head. “You put your hands on her goddamn neck? Who the fuck are you? What kind of person does that?”

“It's okay,” Cyn said. “He wasn't going to hurt me.”

“Yeah? It sure didn't look that way to me! And what the fuck is wrong with you?
Do it? Do it, Raj?
So he can go to jail for the rest of his life? You're both fucking crazy people!”

“Glo—”

“Shut up!” she shouted at me. She was as unhinged as I'd ever seen her. “You gave me such shit because I didn't tell you she was a prostitute, and you never thought to tell me that you'd slept with her?” She stared up at the ceiling, and a fountain of delirious laughter bubbled from her throat. “It's funny, because
I don't even care. It doesn't matter. She hates you. He hates you. I think you're both absolute lunatics, and maybe I am too. It's finally the neat and tidy ending I always hoped for.”

“Glo—”

“No!” She pointed at Cyn. “You, solve your own fucking problems! You're dangerous. That's what you've always been, whether you mean to be or not. It follows you, and I don't want it following me any longer.”

She spun around to face me. “And you—”

I braced myself, waiting for the hammer to drop. Glo's voice broke off abruptly, and I looked up and saw her head swing toward the rear of the theater, as Cyn stood, her face ashen and mouth slack.

“Ryan,” she said.

I clambered to my feet and faced Ryan McMurphy in the flesh. He stood at the top of the stairs, a glowering tower of discontent. I couldn't see his eyes underneath the shadow of his brow, but it was pretty clear that he was looking at Cyn.

“Surprise,” he deadpanned.

“Mr. McMurphy, you need to leave. You're trespassing on private property.” I marveled at how quickly Glo had regained her composure. She stood straight as a rail, the flush in her cheeks spreading down across her chest. “Did you hear me?”

“I hear you, Gloria, I just don't care what you have to say.” He shuffled toward the center aisle and glanced at me, distaste quivering across his features. He turned his large head back toward Cyn, and his mouth bent into an odd grimace. “You had to see them. Just had to. I knew it. If you had just resisted, I might never have found you. Do you know that?”

Cyn shifted nervously. Before she could answer, I said, “Listen, pal. This is my theater. Get the hell out of here before I throw you out.”

He chuckled, thick and low.

I glanced at Glo, frozen wide-eyed like a mannequin, and remembering my regrets from the previous night at the bar, found my courage. I wasn't going to allow some beat-looking asshole to stride into my theater and menace us without taking some action. I began advancing up the stairs toward him, slowly, watching his hands, wondering what the hell I was going to do when I reached the top. The closer I came, the taller he loomed. Of course Cyn had managed to snare some deranged giant for the role of scorned paramour. I just hoped he wasn't armed.

I was six steps away when, in perfect movie slo-mo, I saw his right hand ease out of his pocket, and in his palm, a dull gleam of metal.
Gun!
my neurons screamed in unison. The full muzzle slid into view and slowly swung my way, the yawning blackness of the barrel blotting out all other thought.

“Stop, right there.”

I halted midstep. “Is that a gun?” I exclaimed, in case the girls hadn't noted this very important shift in our circumstances. My body was largely blocking McMurphy's sight lines, and I was hoping they would take the hint and get themselves to some semblance of safety. Unfortunately, there wasn't anywhere particularly safe for them to go. A small dressing room backstage was a dead end, and the sole emergency exit was also at the top of the stairs, on the opposite wall. McMurphy had the high ground, and we were all trapped.

“Raj!” Glo yelped.

“Ryan, don't.”

“Back off,
pal
,” McMurphy sneered.

I lifted my hands and took a step backward.

I heard footsteps, and suddenly Cyn was beside me. “Go to Glo,” she murmured to me, never taking her eyes off McMurphy. “Go.” She glanced at me, and in her face, I saw something of the old Cyn; a reckless confidence that made me think that maybe she knew how to handle this.

I stepped down to the ground floor and put Glo behind me. She reached for my hand and squeezed, hard.

“Ryan, please, put that gun away,” Cyn said. I couldn't see her face, but her voice sounded warm and mildly cajoling, as if the gun were just a camera and she didn't feel especially pretty.

“I just need one thing from you, Cyn, one honest answer. Will you leave him?” McMurphy swayed dangerously.

“What should we do?” Glo whispered into my ear.

“I don't want to talk about it here, in front of my friends. You want to talk, get rid of the gun, and we'll talk somewhere private.”

“I want an answer. I think I'm entitled to one honest answer from you.” His voice stayed terrifyingly flat.

“Ryan, sweetie. You're scaring my friends.”

Cyn began to speak again, but McMurphy interrupted her.

“What's his name?” he demanded.

“Who?”

“Your future ex-husband. I want to know his name.”

“You know it. Lucas.”

“No. His full name. I want you to tell me his full fucking name.”

“Why?”

“Because otherwise, you'll lie. I've been thinking about it, since you left, and I think that's been your plan all along. Use me, dump me. Run back to your true love. I want to know his name so I can call my people and put a trace on him. So I can end him if you screw me on this.” He was breathing heavily. I saw his enormous shoulders rise and fall.

“End him? Drop the posturing, Ryan, please. We both know you were fired. You can't
end
anyone.” Cyn's exasperation was audible, and I watched McMurphy's face darken dangerously. I took a step forward, but Glo's iron grip anchored me in place.

“You're right. I was fired. Because of you. And will soon be divorced, because of you. And will lose my children, because of
you. And what do I get? Lies and empty promises. How do you think that makes me feel? I love you and you lie to me! Just do what you said you would. Haven't I earned that much?”

He was shouting. I saw tiny specks of saliva fly from his mouth, sparkling briefly under the house lights. The air in the room felt absolutely spare, as if we had been transported to the highest Himalayas. Every molecule of oxygen was elusive.

“Yes,” Cyn said.

McMurphy stiffened, and she stepped forward, her voice honey sweet, her gestures, though she didn't touch him, soft and nurturing. “Look at me. It's okay. You're right, darling. I shouldn't have left like I did, but I was frightened and I wasn't sure I could trust you. Surely you can understand that? It's not personal, it's just . . . me.” She shrugged, and her voice grew a touch playful. I watched McMurphy watching her, mesmerized. “I want to make it up to you. I will do anything you want. I know I owe you, Ry, and I know what you've given up for me. Will you say something? Please?”

McMurphy hesitated. Glo and I were both holding our breath. She was squeezing my wrist so hard, I'd lost feeling in my hand.

McMurphy exhaled with an audible moan, and the glower dropped from his face like a Halloween mask. “Cyn, angel. I know I've fucked up so bad. This . . .” McMurphy used the gun hand to gesture to his torso. “This really isn't me. You know that.”

“I know that.”

“Look at me. I'm a goddamn mess.” He smiled, and his face lit up, a demented jack-o'-lantern. He took a step down toward her, arms spreading wide.

“So you'll give me another chance? You'll come back?”

“I will. We can go right now.”

“Don't—” Glo exclaimed.

Cyn turned to face us. She looked calm and, if anything, mildly irritated. “It's okay, Glo. Ryan and I understand each other, don't we?”

She took another step toward him, gradually closing the gap between them. It seemed like they might embrace, but she stopped short. “Can I have that please? You know how I feel about guns.”