by Ivy Harper
“Fuck,” he said, before he released a breathless laugh that held a bit of grief.
“Look, one day it’s perfect and the next...” His muttering trailed off, before he shook his head. “Fuck it, I’m so tired.”
He lifted the gun to his head. It wasn’t wise, but I ran toward him praying my speed was faster than he was at pulling the trigger.
“Tak,” I shouted his name.
He didn’t turn around when I called out to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist as my body hit his back. His body trembled. I tightened my arms around him.
“Tak, put it down,” I desperately ordered, trying to speak over the sorrow in my throat. “Please, put it down.”
He stiffened and became as still as a statue. His breathing harsh before the hand that held the gun fell to his side. He laughed, but it was empty of any joy.
“It stopped,” he whispered, before his body suddenly went slack and he fell backward.
I cried out in surprise as I landed on my butt when he landed on top of me. The gun clattered to the floor. I sat there dumbfounded.
The adrenaline running through my body slowly draining away. I pushed him off me and stared down at his unconscious face and then looked at the gun that was a few inches from his hand. I’d seen despair before.
Felt the aching feeling of being swept away. The paralyzing sensation of your world falling apart and knowing you’re too weak to do anything about it. I’d found my savior in Tak’s songs.
His voice telling me it was okay to lose hope, soothing the choking numbness I couldn’t escape without his music. And now, I could see where those words came from. Demons had plenty of shapes and everyone had them somewhere in their lives.
I reached out and gently brushed my fingers against his cheeks. The tears that fell from my eyes, falling onto his skin. A part of me wished they had the power to heal, but they didn’t.
I could only weep for him. Silently and in the shadows, I could only pray and make wishes that the man before me would someday heal from the things that haunted him. If the only thing I could do was save his life, then I would do that.
I owed it to him. He had saved mine. The girl who’d seen the worst of human nature, greed, betrayal, and obsession.
I wanted to do something, at least one thing for him. Then, I swore I would leave and take my lies with me. I was determined to stay by his side.
If I had to stop these growing feelings inside me, I would do it. Brushing the tears from my face, I managed to slip out from under him and walked over to his gun and picked it up. I continued into the hallway to gather my phone and weapon.
I returned to my room and locked them both away in there. After pulling my hair back into a ponytail, I went in search of a dustpan and broom. I’d clean up and then somehow get Tak back to his bedroom. I would think about everything I’d seen tomorrow.
Chapter 27
Shame
Tak
* * *
“Are you going to take him?”
I was being discussed by my parents like I wasn’t in the room once again.
“I can’t, I have to go on a business trip to Hawaii.” My mother was always focused ahead, her eyes on the next possible deal. “Can’t you just leave him with his grandmother this time?”
“You know she’s gotten too old to watch him. Aren’t you his mother, shouldn’t you be more caring toward your son?” My dad demanded in a harsh voice. The smell of his cigarette always made my throat burn. “I’ve been lenient so far, ignoring you’re “trips” when I know damn well what you’ve been up to this whole time.”
“Ha.” My mother’s face changed before my eyes. “That’s funny coming from you, I don’t think you have any place to talk. You started this. Did you think I’d just be miserable and continue to love you? Don’t be so arrogant, I’ll never be a desperate woman, not even for you.”
I wondered why they didn’t want to stay.
Mom nor Dad.
“Please stay.” I sat up. My hand held out to no one.
Only my TV looked back at me. I dropped my hand to my side and squinted from the pain radiating behind my eyes. I had a bad high the previous night. Covering my face with both my hands, I tried to remember past the pain, but it was impossible. I shouldn’t have taken those two pills.
I reached out to my side, searching for the familiar feeling of steel only not to find it. I frantically searched the bed covers, still not finding what I was looking for at all. Panic began to set in. What if one of the morning cleaning staff found it?
Shit, I needed to find it. I went to get out of bed only for the click of my bedroom door opening to stop me short. The scent of food filled the room. Jazz came into view, her eyes bright and her smile wide as she carried in a tray with what looked like porridge on it.
“You’re up,” she said. She walked to the side of my bed and set the tray down on the side table. “Are you feeling better?” She reached over and pressed her cool hand against my forehead. With a sigh, she pulled back and grabbed up the two Tylenol tablets that sat next to the bowl of porridge. “I know you shouldn’t take medicine on an empty stomach, but you can take these and then eat. Here.”
I looked from her to the medicine in her hand. “What happened last night?”
I almost missed the shadow that past over her eyes. Her smile softened. “As far as I’m concerned, you got very, very drunk and fell asleep. So now you’re suffering from it. That’s also what Chelsea thinks. If you want to talk about something else, I think it would be better to do so after you’ve gotten some rest.”
She’d seen me at my worse. I could see it. I was hit with a truck load of embarrassment and shame. And like a coward, I took the glass and medicine from her without another word.
Hell, I was grateful she was still here. I knew how I could get when I had a bad high.
“Thank you,” I said, not looking at her, feeling too exposed.
She took the glass from me and placed it on the tray. “You’re welcome,” she said simply before she left the room, closing the door behind her.
I bent forward and pressed my hands to my face, trying to muffle the breakdown as I cried.
Chapter 28
Second Try
Jazz
* * *
“Did something happen between you and Tak?” Chelsea asked thoughtfully as we stood outside, watching Tak being filmed on the walkway below near a scenic lake view, where a few ducks quacked in excitement. The weather was still warm, despite the light mist that covered the ground.
“No, why?” I asked, feigning ignorance.
It had been almost a week since the night I’d dragged Tak to his bed and cleaned up the mess that had remained after he’d lost control. There had been a weird tension between us ever since. He seemed to be eager to tell me something but every time our eyes met, he’d turn away.
“Because you two haven’t looked each other in the eyes this entire time. Every time you two talk, he looks away and you look to the side.” She eyed me with suspicion. “You can tell me, did you two sleep together?”
I watched below as the female model grabbed onto Tak’s arm. They seemed a little bit too close, but I decided not to intercede. Wouldn’t his manager intrude if she thought it was too much?
“No, we didn’t.” I sent her a look. “And is that really something you should ask out in the open?”
She shrugged, turning her attention back to Tak who smiled down at the model while putting a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her back. “They’re all down there. No one can hear us.”
“Well, there isn’t any affair,” I said. “So, there’s no need to worry.”
“Are you sure?” she asked again. And for some reason I found myself irritated.
“Yes, I am,” I harshly whispered.
Pursing my lips together, I averted my eyes from Chelsea. She didn’t deserve all of my irritation. Sure, she was getting on my nerves, but she wasn’t the source of it.
I glanced at T
ak—he was. I was frustrated with his mixed messages.
“Cut. Let’s take a break,” the director announced, using his mic.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my contract isn’t broken,” I said as I watched Tak walk toward us, having managed to shake off the clingy model.
Chelsea released a humming sound. “Whatever you say, I’m going to go talk with the director and see how much longer this shoot will be.” She walked away just as Tak reached my side.
“God, it’s hot,” he exclaimed, pulling off the thick fur-lined coat he wore and tossed it over the bench that was next to where I stood. “Whose plan was it to shoot a commercial for winter during the summer?”
I couldn’t help smiling as I reached down and picked up the towel off the bench and handed it to him. Quickly, he got rid of the sweat gathering at his neck and brow before tossing it back on the bench.
“You’re handling everything fine so far, even the aggressive flirting from your co-star…” I trailed off, my attention falling on the girl who excitedly chatted with her manager. “I have to say it’s going pretty well,” I said and looked back at him.
An intern who’d been running around stopped by Tak’s side and handed him a bottle of water before heading over to serve the rest of the film crew.
Tak’s expression turned thoughtful. “You know, we still haven’t talked.”
“What exactly should we talk about?” I asked, feeling the nervous ball in my stomach tighten.
“That night, I think I’m ready to talk about it. At least with you,” he said, I could hear the tone of nervousness in his voice.
I moved my gaze to his face. I tried to read him only to be left as clueless as before. “Why? I’m no one special.”
The corners of his mouth kicked up as he lifted a single brow. “Well, aren’t you?”
I frowned. “I’m not. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to explain anything.”
“I don’t have to,” he said. “I want to.”
I weighed his words. I could push him away here and now. We could continue this cold and awkward relationship—me being treated strictly as his bodyguard—or I could let him open up to me and lose a few of the shadows behind his gaze.
“Okay.”
“Thanks.” He held the water bottle out to me. “I’m going to makeup.”
I wasn’t sure what he was thanking me for, but I quietly accepted the bottle back. He walked around me and headed to where the stylist and makeup artist were waiting near one of the trailers. They eagerly waited to touch him up.
I followed him with my gaze, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. A vision of him in a beaten leather coat, torn blue jeans, and earphones plugged deep in his ears popped into my head. His black hair a wild mess on his head and his gaze holding dark secrets that had made my young heart ache.
I sighed as a fond smile came to my lips. I wondered sometimes had there ever been anyone else who’d drawn my eyes as he did? I couldn’t remember.
My greatest and worse moments were tied to him, always. I only wish he knew or remembered, but if he did he’d know Jazz didn’t exist. Everything would unravel and I’d be forced to part with him.
I tightened my hand on the bottle on reflex. Tak was my world, whether he knew it or not. Some would call me crazy and maybe even a stalker, but if they had loved someone as I did.
If they had found salvation because of another as I had, they would understand. If he wanted to talk. I’d hear what he had to say.
Chapter 29
My Crew
Tak
* * *
“You’re a fucking prick.”
I winced, trying not to wilt under the onslaught of curse words Deacon had for me. “It’s been what… a few weeks and you’re calling me now? If it wasn’t for Luke saying you needed some space and your little tantrum with Skittles and Pit, me and everyone else would have kicked your door in and beat the shit out of you.”
I nodded, knowing he couldn’t see me. “What the fuck were you thinking? Huh? You’re just going to off yourself and not say shit to us about it? Did you even think of us as your brothers or about Skittles? Tak? Tak, you better not have hung up. If you did, I swear to God—”
“I know I was wrong.”
He inhaled sharply. I could imagine him now, gaze sharp and his posture hunched as he thought over how he wanted to beat the shit out of me. “Tell me exactly what you did wrong.”
I gritted my teeth before saying the first thing that popped into my head. “Trying to kill myself?”
“Wrong.”
Huh? That was what I’d done or at least that’s what the public believed. “I didn’t let you all visit me in the hospital?”
“No.” His voice was harder this time. “Try again.”
I frowned. “What the fuck, Deacon? There’s plenty of shit I’ve done and unless you’re trying to have me do some twisted fucking version of a confession, you should stop wasting both of our time and tell me what you think I did wrong.”
He was silent for a long time. “First of all, check your fucking tone. Don’t ever come at me like that. And since you’re an idiot, I’ll spell it out for you. You didn’t believe in us.”
Huh? I’m sorry, was this the fucking Deacon I knew? Mister hard knuckles, who only cared about his shop and coin?
“What does my belief in you guys have to do with me offing myself?” I ask more out of curiosity because again, I didn’t actually do it to myself.
“If you believed in us and our crew, you wouldn’t have done something like this. You’ve been acting like a little bitch since Pit and Skittles started dating. If I noticed, everyone fucking did.
“We’re not the type to sit around pissing away and crying about our feelings, but did you ever think of coming to us? Trusting us with your thoughts, shit.”
“That’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in my entire life,” I said, feeling more than shocked by his words.
“Shut up, if it wasn’t for this dumb shit, I’d still be quiet, I’d stay quiet,” he snapped back.
I laughed but it was empty. I couldn’t bring myself to explain to him my mind’s inner workings. I couldn’t yet find the courage in myself to share my weak self with my friends. It was funny and sad as shit. I wasn’t able to be the real me around the men I’d been friends with since I finished high school.
What could I say?
I was still having a hard time dealing with my sobriety and my own thoughts. Digging into my pocket, I pulled out a perfectly rolled blunt. A man had to enjoy the simple things in life.
I’d flushed the blue pills down the drain. Shit was the main reason I’d been avoiding Jazz and had finally called Deacon.
“Listen, what if I told you I didn’t try to off myself?” I asked, grabbing my lighter out of the basket on my desk and lighting the end of my blunt. I set the delicate thing between my lips and took a deep inhale before taking it out and continued to talk.
“I’d say explain.”
I took another hit. “Here’s the thing. I was chasing some fucker who decided my car was his.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope,” I said. “And during chasing this damn thief down—somewhere in there—I got knocked out and ended up back at my hotel room with slit wrists. Luckily, I was saved by the EMTs.”
“Tak,” he drew out my name in a quiet hiss that made me aware I’d pushed him to the edge. We all knew in our crew that sound meant pain for others. “I’m really starting to regret not kicking your door open.”
“Wait, it gets even better,” I said, the lovely high making me chuckle. “Someone tried to smash my head in with a stage light. The perpetrator was released on bail and has disappeared.”
“Son of a bitch. When I get there, I’m ripping you a new one,” he threatened.
“Stand in line,” I said, exhaling a perfect string of smoke. “Anyway, can you look into it for me? I can’t get the legal routes to get me the information I need. Honestly, I
’ve been thinking of calling for a while.”
“Why didn’t you?” Deacon asked.
I shrugged. “Didn’t feel like it.”
“Tak.”
“I’ll see you later.”
I hung up the phone, knowing the following two dings were from Deacon, telling me off. I leaned back against my chair and stared at the wall blankly.
“That was one,” I said aloud before taking another hit. “Now on to the next task.”
This time I decided to text Pit and Skittles that I needed their help. I figured it would save me going through the same shit I’d gone through with Deacon.
A few minutes later Skittles texted back.
Skittles: Who am I about to fuck up?
Followed by Pit’s.
Pit: Deacon called. You fucked up, kid. You should have come straight to me. I’ve got this.
Chapter 30
Let’s Talk
Tak
* * *
Jazz sat across from me in my living room. It had been a few hours since the end of the photo shoot and since I’d told her we’d talk. The air between us buzzed with something I couldn’t put my finger on.
Even with the stress of speaking to her about that night, I couldn’t stop my mind from thinking about fucking her. I had a thing for sweets. From the few times I’d stolen kisses from her, each one had been sweeter then the last.
Her eyes were filled with determination as she met my gaze head-on. I couldn’t help thinking about my attraction to her. She was shorter than me, I liked them taller.
She was curvy and while I was never a man who denied himself variety, the women who normally ended up in my bed weren’t curvy. However, every curve on her caused my hands to itch with the desire to touch them.
She had an almost pixie look about her. Where you first thought she was weak and easy to bend, you soon learned there was a fiery passion that ran in her and it was as hard as steel. She tilted her head.