by Juniper Hart
“What the hell are you doing in here?” he hissed suddenly, his eyes milky. “How many damn times do I have to tell you to knock before coming into my room?”
Stunned, Shawna drew back. She could smell the sick on him, and confusion overwhelmed her like a flood. Is he doing this in his sleep? He’s here, but he’s not here, she thought. What is he?
“I-I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I thought you were sick!”
“No one pays you to think, Shawna! Get the hell out of here, and don’t you ever come back!” She barely recognized his voice, but she didn’t need to be told a second time. Tears filled her dark eyes as she backed out of the room, tripping over his robe which was discarded on the floor.
“Get out!” he howled again. “Get out!”
Shawna ran from the master suite, tears blinding her vision as she ran toward her bedroom on the main floor, trying to escape what her eyes had just shown her—that Mr. Morrow was not the handsome actor who had employed her for years.
“Shawna?”
She froze, her heart hammering. I’ll just stay here quietly, and he’ll think I’m in another part of the house. What if he’s violent and wants to hurt me?
“Shawna? I need your help.” Any resolve she had vanished with those words, and she headed back to the master suite. She warily stepped inside and looked at her employer. His face was almost translucent, and she thought he would faint dead away. The bear-like features had disappeared, revealing a wan version of her boss.
“I’m sorry about before,” she blurted out, unsure of what else to say.
He is not himself. He is not the Arden Morrow I have known all these years.
“I need you to get me something to drink and to eat. I’m not feeling very well.”
Shawna stared at him, uncomprehendingly. He didn’t seem to understand where he was.
“Mr. Morrow, do you need an ambulance?” she demanded, reaching for her cell phone. His eyes widened, and he looked alert for the first time.
“No!” he yelled, and Shawna barely caught the device before she could drop it in surprise. “No ambulance. Just get me some water. Maybe a sandwich. That’s all I need.”
Is he high? she thought uneasily, but even that didn’t fit with what was happening. He turned his emerald eyes on her, the light burnt from their depth.
“Please, Shawna?” he begged, and she nodded. Never had he asked her for something like this before.
“Just lie still,” she told him, and he closed his eyes obediently. She turned to leave the master suite, but he called out to her again, his voice weak.
“And Shawna?” he croaked.
“Yes, Mr. Morrow?”
“I need you to call Mal and tell him to come back here immediately.”
“Yes, sir,” she agreed, relief flooding through her. Malik would be much better equipped to deal with whatever was causing Arden suffering. She pivoted for the door once more when he yelled her name a third time. She glanced at him questioningly.
“Don’t ever mention any of this to Gena,” he said with a deep sigh. “Please.”
Swallowing the lump of fear and concern in her throat, Shawna could only nod.
“Of course, Mr. Morrow,” she whispered and turned away before he could see the tears fill her eyes.
The Los Angeles Physique hit the stands the following morning. The headline read, “Leona Davis Tells All; The Lure, The Lust, The Lies.”
Helena cringed at the title but wisely said nothing to Basil. The past two days they had spent camped in front of Arden Morrow’s farmhouse had only managed to increase her doubt. They had not laid eyes on Arden once since arriving, and Gena Averson seemed a girl very much living alone in the big house. Granted, their vantage point was not the best, but even so, it seemed they would have caught at least a peek of the master of the house.
Could this be another decoy? Helena wondered. Did Arden put her here to throw the reporters off his trail? Or did he put her here just to get her away from the reporters?
Although she still did not have a concrete theory as to what was occurring, her gut would not let go of the idea that there was something much more intricate happening, something beyond a fling with a nurse.
“Basil, do we still use Joe Porter for stuff?” Helena asked, idly flipping through her phone.
“What kind of stuff?”
“Basil, is playing dumb something you put on your resume? If not, you really should. You’re brilliant at doing it. Private investigator stuff, dingbat. Is he still on Physique’s payroll?”
“I think so,” Basil replied, looking hurt. Helena ignored him and located the PI’s number in her contacts. “What do you need Joe Porter for?” Basil asked. Helena continued to ignore him. The close quarters with the photographer were beginning to grate on her nerves.
Let’s start from the beginning, she decided. As the phone began to ring, a black BMW pulled up toward the iron gates.
“Oh, look! Someone’s coming,” Basil said excitedly, pulling his camera to his face. Immediately, he dropped the lens and retrieved his fallen bag of Doritos. “It’s only Malik Williams,” he said, deflated, but Helena perked up.
“Well, that’s something. Chances are, if Malik is here, so is Arden.”
Basil stared at her as if she had sprouted a second head. “Um, was there any doubt that Arden was here?”
Helena didn’t answer. She told Basil as little as possible, as she was still not entirely sure he wouldn’t report back to Shari. As she thought it, she pressed the end button. There was no need for Basil to hear the call to Joe Porter. That would be something she could do when they stopped for food.
The Physique crew watched Malik jump from his car and bound up the wooden steps of the wraparound porch. Helena and Basil strained to see if anyone greeted him at the door. A chubby, middle-aged woman flung open the entranceway before Malik had a chance to enter. She was gesturing with her hands, but they could not read the expression on her face. Helena groaned when she recognized the woman.
“Oh, crap. That’s the woman who went to pick up whatever it was from Gena’s house the other day. I should have known.”
“She looks… animated,” Basil commented. “I wonder if something is happening.”
Oh, great, now Basil is another Shari Jespers. He sees a hand gesture, and he’s got a whole story in mind, Helena thought sarcastically. She turned her focus back toward the couple on the veranda.
Malik disappeared into the house with the woman as Basil snapped a few candid shots. They settled back in the car, each knowing it was going to be a long few more days. Helena hoped she had the stamina to endure it.
15
He’s been avoiding me, Gena told herself, curled against the brittle straw in the second stall. Ever since Shawna saw us, he hasn’t been alone with me. I think I may have seen him twice in the past two days.
Her rear end was becoming numb, and she suddenly realized that she was starving. She also had read the same line in her book six times, but she was certain she still had no idea what it said.
Go eat something and watch TV in your room if you’re going to space out all day. That way, Arden won’t have to pussyfoot around to evade seeing me in passing.
As she made her way back toward the house, the sun’s rays glinted off something in the distance. Gena paused to stare in the direction beyond the trees, and her heart stopped. There was a television van parked almost out of view, the white of the vehicle contrasting against the black of the iron gate.
You have got to be kidding me! Furiously, she stomped back into the house through the kitchen. How could they have known to come here? Who knows that Arden is here?
Inside the kitchen, Gena was in for another surprise. Shawna stood with Arden’s agent, speaking in hushed tones.
“Malik!” she cried. “When did you get back?”
He flashed her a quick smile and glanced worriedly at Shawna. There was a strange undercurrent in the room, and Gena felt her hazel eyes narrow in suspicio
n.
“I just walked in the door,” he replied, stepping forward to give her a prefectural kiss on the cheek. “How are you settling in?”
Gena glanced furtively at Shawna, who averted her eyes and tried to hide a smile.
“Good,” Gena answered, glancing at her toes. A moment of awkward silence ensued until Malik spoke again.
“So, uh, Shawna, where is Arden?”
“In his suite,” she answered. “He’s expecting you, so I’d just walk right in.”
Malik nodded his gleaming head and smiled at Gena again. “I know this wasn’t exactly your dream vacation, but I have to say, you look great, Gena. Definitely happier than the last time I saw you.”
Gena felt ridiculously pleased by the compliment and flushed slightly as the tall agent bounded up the back staircase. Uncomfortably, Shawna and Gena looked at one another. “Listen, Shawna, what you saw the other day—”
“No, no, you don’t have to explain anything to me, Gena,” Shawna cut in. She moved toward the younger woman and put her hands on her shoulders. “I am sorry I interrupted you, but you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“What Shari Jespers has been saying isn’t true,” Gena declared passionately, looking pleadingly at the housekeeper. Shawna nodded understandingly, her dark eyes wise.
“You think I put any stock into that Hollywood rag?” she scoffed. “Shari Jespers has the biggest chip on her shoulder I have ever seen. She has been trying to take down Hollywood in its entirety since she stepped foot in LA. I think she’s got sour grapes, honestly. Probably wanted to be an actress or a model and realized she couldn’t cut it. Turned her into a vindictive shrew, if you ask me.”
“I never expected anything like that to happen with Arden,” Gena told her bashfully. “I can’t even imagine what he would see in someone like me when he has the world at his feet already.”
Shawna’s face contorted into a mask of annoyance. “Someone like you? You mean a compassionate, beautiful, intelligent nurse with a fire you can’t buy anywhere? Yeah, what could a guy want with that?”
Gena’s face turned red. “You know what I mean,” she muttered.
“You mean you’re not a Hollywood cut out. Did it ever occur to you that maybe Mr. Morrow is sick of LA, which is why he’s in this town to begin with?”
Gena admitted that she had often wondered why Arden had picked Apple Orchard to escape to, but she found it hard to believe that of all the tiny picturesque towns in all the world, he would pick hers. In all the gin joints in all the world, you had to walk into mine. Gena sighed and shook her head.
“I think you’re wrong,” she said flatly. “He’s avoiding me at all costs.”
Shawna’s eyes shadowed over, and she opened her mouth to speak. Abruptly, she changed her mind, clamping her lips together.
“What?” Gena challenged. “You know I’m right?”
“No,” Shawna replied slowly. “I just want you to consider that things are not always the way they seem.”
For a bizarre moment, Gena thought of the outtakes Arden had shown her the other day. It’s almost as if he was trying to tell me the same thing through that footage. Suddenly, she remembered something.
“There are reporters outside. I have to tell Arden,” Gena muttered, but Shawna shook her head vehemently.
“No, you can’t disturb him while he’s with Malik. You can warn him later.” She gestured for Gena to follow her toward the front of the house. The two women peered out the living room window, and Gena pointed the van out to her. “Oh, there’s only one,” Shawna said, her voice lightening. “That’s not terrible.”
“It only started as one last time, too,” Gena reminded her.
“We’ll keep an eye out. They can’t come any closer than the fence, anyway. That’s why it’s there. Don’t stress. Forget about them. They’ve probably already been there for a while, and we’ve just never seen them.”
“Things are calming down, though, right, Shawna? I mean, Jespers seems to have run out of stuff to write about.”
Shawna cringed and shook her head slowly. “No, hon, I’m afraid not.”
“Now what?”
“She got Leona Davis doing an exclusive in this week’s edition.” Gena made a mental note not to go near the internet for at least another three weeks.
“So much for apartment hunting,” she joked dryly. Shawna chuckled.
“Nah, hon, you may as well put up your feet and relax. You’re going to be here a while.”
And Gena was filled with an insurmountable sense of relief. It isn’t over. Not yet. I’m still here with Arden, whether he likes it or not.
Malik couldn’t breathe, and he doubled over in his chair, trying to catch his wind.
“Okay, Mal, deep breaths. Don’t pass out,” Arden growled, rolling his eyes as he watched his agent.
“Don’t pass out?” Malik gasped. “You just told me you’re dying as if you were discussing pizza toppings! How the hell can I not pass out? How long have you known about this? How the hell is this even possible?”
Arden gritted his teeth, not wanting to answer, but Malik was not a stupid man. He understood Arden’s silence.
“Oh, God, Arden, that’s why you skipped out on your contract? Why are you keeping this a secret? This is something you need support with, not something you should be hiding from! And you kept me in the dark! Me, of all people!”
Arden remained silent, watching Malik fly into his theatrics, like he had anticipated.
It is a shame he never took to acting. He is such a ham, he thought with affection. He grew sad as he realized how much of a void his passing would cause in Malik. They might not belong to the same pack, but they had become very close over the years.
“So, what do we do now?” Malik demanded, regaining his composure.
“We do nothing. There is nothing left to do. I am going to die,” Arden answered matter-of-factly.
“No,” his agent snapped. “Don’t be insane. We’ll call on Theo, the Council. Lane Aldwin can—”
“Mal, do you think I didn’t look at all my options? Theo won’t have any choice but to put me down when he finds out about this.”
“I think you did this alone, through an emotional time, without any help. Who knows which rocks you left unturned? You can’t deal with something this severe in your usual stoic way, Arden. We need to hold a press conference—”
“Have you taken leave of your senses? The last damn thing I need is more press! The idea is to get rid of the press. If you had just announced my retirement when I—”
“Not this crap again. Are you purposely avoiding the underlying subject? Tell me how announcing your retirement would have made any of this go away.”
Arden was beginning to regret his decision, and he stared at Malik balefully. Dammit, I hate it when he’s right. I can’t even argue with him on this.
“There is nothing left to discuss. I just want to die here, in peace, but I’m getting worse. I needed to tell someone before it happens. You need to know what to do when the time comes.”
Malik’s black eyes turned into slits as he regarded his long-time friend. “Is that what you want? To die in peace?” he asked slowly, and Arden nodded quickly. “And what about Gena Averson?”
Arden’s already pale face went even more waxen at the mention of the girl.
“What about her?” he replied gruffly, not meeting Malik’s penetrating gaze.
“Are you going to deny that she’s your mate?”
Arden swallowed heavily and turned his head to stare out the long rectangular window of his room. What choice do I have but to let her go? Malik isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know. It isn’t fair for me to lead her on when the outcome is death.
“So, what now? The girl is going to live here while you hide out in your room? You are going to avoid contact with her as your grow sicker, make her feel like she did something wrong? Hasn’t she been through enough? She’s going to think that you tossed her aside, especi
ally after all you’ve been through together.”
Arden’s head whipped up, and he glared at Malik. Shawna has a big mouth. I will have to talk to her about speaking out of school.
“What do you propose?” Arden asked finally, the two of them locked in stare which neither was willing to let go.
“I propose you fight!” Malik screamed, balling his fists in frustration. “I propose you tell the world and look for help in every corner of this world! I propose—”
“It’s not going to happen, Mal,” Arden replied flatly. “I will tell Gena that I am under the weather, but that is as far as it goes.”
Malik’s face was a mask of shock. “Under the weather?” he choked. “It is deceitful not to tell her! You’re just going to let her believe nothing is wrong until you drop dead?”
“Malik, if you breathe one word of this to anyone, including Shawna, I will never speak to you again. I don’t think you have any doubt that I mean it.”
Again, their eyes clashed, until begrudgingly, Malik nodded his head.
“I am telling Gena you are really sick,” he warned. “She’s a nurse. She’ll figure out you’re full of shit soon enough, anyway.”
Arden cringed as he recognized the truth of Malik’s words, but he dismissed the thought. They would cross that bridge as they came to it; if they came to it.
The two nodded at each other in a silent, uneasy truce.
“Not a word about this to anyone else, Mal,” Arden warned again as his agent walked toward the door. “If Theo and the Council catch wind of this…” He trailed off without finishing his sentence. Malik didn’t turn.
“Get some rest,” he growled, opening the entrance. After he closed the door behind him, Arden wondered if he had made a mistake telling the agent anything in the first place.
Too late to backtrack now. He’s going to do what he’s going to do. I just hope it’s the right thing.
Gena inhaled sharply and reconsidered for the third time, but it was too late. She had already decided—she was going in.
She didn’t bother knocking on the door as she slipped through the shadows into the sitting room and through the frosted doors leading to the bedroom. She could barely see Arden in the center of the California king bed, wrapped child-like among the blankets.