by Jamie Howard
The window zipped back up as the car ground to a halt. It was a good fifteen minutes before we heard that tap-tap against the darkened glass. I hesitated, a small part of me dreading leaving the safety of the car.
Felix nudged my shoulder. “Let’s go, Jules. The suspense is killing me.”
Those last two words were like a shard of ice, lodging itself into my heart. It hadn’t occurred to me until that moment that being around me all the time put Felix on my stalker’s radar too. Jesus Christ, was just being with me putting him in danger?
I mentally shook myself. I had to stop doing this. I couldn’t keep letting him get inside my head. Especially if he was watching me. There was no way I wanted him to know how much he was affecting me.
With a confidence I definitely wasn’t feeling, I pushed open the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Bitter air skimmed across my cheeks, sneaking down into my coat to tease all the tiny pieces of my skin that weren’t covered. The security team had Felix’s wheelchair unfolded and ready to go immediately, and it was only a few seconds before he was back at my side.
He tilted his head back, his face lighting up. “Sweet. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve been to the movies?”
I wagged a finger at him. “Oh, but that’s not all.” I hurried inside, eager for some heat. I waited until Felix had caught up with me. I twirled around, holding my arms out at my sides. “The whole place is ours for the next couple of hours.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I shrugged out of my coat and draped it across my arm. “But that’s not all, my friend.” I hitched my thumb over my shoulder to the scrolling marquee above the theater door. The words The Girl in the Photograph blinked across it.
“Holy shit. That’s your movie.” He wheeled closer. “It’s not even out yet.”
“I know. But I was kinda sad that you wouldn’t be able to make the New York premiere, so I sweet-talked a few people and set up your very own private showing.”
He clapped his hands together. “I’m so pumped to see this.” He spun around. “Now I’ve only got one question for you.”
“And what’s that?”
“We’re totally getting popcorn, right?”
By the time we had to fight our way through the mass of reporters camped outside the hotel again, Felix was handling it like a pro. He even fired off a joke at one of the more insistent ones, topping it off with a grin. For my part, I just tried to act casual. Tried to pretend that for the first time in my life the crowd of people around me didn’t feel suffocating and that another prick of a needle wasn’t just hiding in the shadows.
Felix flew across the lobby floor. The copious amounts of salt and butter on the two bags of popcorn we’d demolished clearly gave him some kind of high. He swerved back around and coasted toward me. “Jules, you were fucking amazing. Incredible. Unbelievable. You’ve gotta win, like, every award for this movie. If you don’t, I’m one hundred percent calling bullshit.”
I fought back a laugh, pressing a finger to my lips. “Shhh.”
He huffed out an exaggerated sigh. “I can’t be proud of my girl?”
“Of course you can.” I tapped a knuckle under his chin. “Upstairs, in private, where you won’t continue to destroy the delicate sensibilities of children.” I motioned with my eyes to the two pint-sized kids huddling on the lobby couch, their handheld gaming devices practically dangling from their fingers.
“Sorry.” He grimaced. “Pretend you never heard that.”
Their stares followed us all the way to the elevator. The doors just barely managed to close before Felix burst out laughing. “Christ, if they go back to their rooms and repeat that to their parents . . .”
I rolled my eyes. “You are such a bad influence.”
“I am the best bad influence. And don’t you forget it.”
When the doors slid open again, Vince took the lead with a newer fill-in whose name I hadn’t managed to ask. A hand at their waist, they stalked down the hallway, clearing it before giving us the signal that it was good to go.
In front of our door, Vince dropped to one knee, standing back up with something grasped in his hands. I squinted. Were they flowers?
He handed them over to me once I got to his side. “Looks like some get-well flowers for you, Ms. St. Clair.”
The glass vase was cold as my fingers wrapped around it, the scent of the peonies almost sickly sweet as it tickled my nose. “Thank you.”
My first stop was at the dresser, gently setting the heavy bouquet down on it. Felix swiped a hand through his hair. “Those come with a card?” He nudged me with his elbow. “Should I be worried?”
My fingers sifted carefully through the pink blooms until they found the cream card stuck between them. I turned it over like the heavy cardstock was made of unstable dynamite, my heart only resuming its regular cadence when I saw my name scrawled across the front in a swirling, cursive font.
“It’s probably just from my dad or something.” Wedging a fingernail under the sealed flap, I ripped it open. I had to read it twice for the words to actually sink in. For the message to make sense when it was so wildly against my expectations.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Fame’s spotlight is bright,
A map straight to you.
Everything I’d eaten in the past few hours tried to make a hasty exit back the way it came, but I fought it down with a hand clamped over my mouth. This can’t be happening. I shook my head, slumping down on the bed, head in my hands, as Felix snatched the tiny card from my hand.
“What. The. Fuck.” The door ricocheted off the wall, Felix’s voice a violent whisper as he delivered this new piece of evidence to Vince and the rest of my security team. What was the point? What was the fucking point? The police already had a pile of evidence and it didn’t mean a goddamn thing.
Warm fingers pried my hands away from my face, folding them in calloused palms. Felix brought them to his lips, feathering light kisses over the tops of my hands. “It’s all right. It’s going to be all right.”
I wished more than anything I could believe him.
“Vince is calling Detective Brackett. They’re going to be right over, and—”
“And what? They’re going to take another statement? Make another slew of false promises?” I shook off his hold on my hands and paced in front of the bed. “They’re not going to catch him.”
Felix cut in front of me, blocking my path. “He is going to slip up.”
“Will that be before or after he gets his hands on me again?” I held up my hands, my sleeves falling back to reveal the stark white bandages wrapped around my wrists. “Before or after I nearly bleed out on another bathroom floor?”
“Well then, maybe you need to take a step back.”
Heat curled through me, snaking through my veins like a wildfire. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“It means this asshole literally told you that being in the press is making it beyond easy for him to find you. If you dropped off the grid for a while—”
“Dropped off the grid.” I sucked in a deep breath. I wasn’t being reasonable or logical, I was giving in to the anger. Letting it take over so the sheer terror of the entire situation didn’t drown me. “So your answer is that I should just disappear. For how long?”
He inched a little closer, his hair falling back as he tilted his head back to look at me. “Until they catch the sick bastard.”
“Indefinitely then.” I gritted my teeth together. “Is that what you would do? If some guy was threatening you, blackmailing you, you’d just give in?”
“If it meant saving my life, hell yes I would!”
“This is my life. My career.”
“You alive means a hell of a lot more than any stupid role.”
I pressed a fist to my mouth, blinking back tears. Everything inside me was cracking, crumbling. Brick by brick, every single good thing in my life was tumbling down.
Felix
sighed. “Jules—”
A series of knocks echoed through the room.
“I have to get that.” I sidestepped around him, but his fingers clamped around my wrist.
“I just want you to be safe.”
I finally looked down at him, a pang hitting me straight in the chest from the worry that was flooding through his eyes. “I’m not sure I’ll ever feel safe again.”
Chapter 27: Felix
My arms trembled like paper-thin autumn leaves caught in the wind, and a whole river of sweat trickled down my spine, my neck, my chest. Every breath made my shirt cling a little tighter to my skin. Even my abs were aching.
And it was fucking glorious.
“You’re doing great, Felix.” Marge gently eased her way back, arms straight out in front of her, ready to catch me if I happened to topple over. I had at least a hundred pounds on her, so if I screwed this up I’d probably squash her like a bug. “Make it back to the chair and we can call it a day.”
“The chair? That’s it?” I gulped down a lungful of air, trying to leech the pure exhaustion out of my voice. “C’mon, Marge.” I grinned down at her—down at her. I had to because with my KAFO braces on my legs I towered over her. Standing had never felt so good.
She shook her head. “This is your first day up, and you’ve already far exceeded my expectations. But you don’t need to rush it. Give your muscles time to adjust. Practice with the braces every day, a little longer each time.”
I grunted as I swung one foot forward, propelling it with what muscles I still had working in my hips, ass, and stomach. My arm crutch followed up behind it, maintaining my balance. That last five feet to the chair took me ten minutes, drained whatever spare energy I had in my battery and left my arms feeling like my bones had been replaced with Jell-O.
Marge surveyed me with her hands on her hips. “I’m proud of you, kid.”
“Aw, Marge.” I laid a hand over my heart. “You’re making me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”
She gave me an eye roll of epic proportions. “I’m guessing this is the last time I’ll be seeing you for a little while?”
I flopped back into the chair, wiping my forehead with the back of my arm. “Until next month at least. Unless you wanna come on tour with us?”
“That would be a no.” She tossed me a towel. “But you can always give me a call if you need me. Just stick with the routine we worked out, and for the time being don’t get up on the crutches without a spotter.”
That was the one minor sticking point in this plan—the spotter. I knew Gavin would do it if I asked, I just hated that I had to ask. But if I had any hope of being able to crutch my way into Juliet’s fundraiser, swallowing my pride was the only way that was going to happen.
And that was only if she decided to speak to me again.
Like every day in the past four days, I glanced around for my phone. It wasn’t in here because I’d been smart enough to get rid of the distractions before attempting my first time up on the sticks. That didn’t mean my fingers weren’t itching to get it back in my hands.
It’s not like I could entirely blame her. She’d asked me if I would have given it up, if I would have walked away if I was in her position. I’d said yes, but the more I thought about it, the more my answer transformed into a solid no. There wasn’t anything in this world that would make me walk away from the guys and the band. Especially when walking away didn’t guarantee anything.
But fuck if those flowers showing up in our hotel room didn’t scare the shit out of me. Just one look at that note had an image of Juliet, broken and bleeding, flashing before my eyes. Every single atom inside of me had screamed at me to protect her, anyway I possibly could. Except the only thing I’d managed was to push her away.
“You still listening to me?” Marge quirked an eyebrow at me.
“Of course. A spotter. Got it.”
She scooped up her bag, hooking it over her shoulder. “I’m gonna head out then. You let me know when you’ll be back in town and then you can impress me again with your progress.”
“You’ve got a deal.” I stuck out my hand toward her and she shook it.
It took a few minutes to get the braces off, and I sighed in relief as I set them on the floor. I barely had the strength left to hoist myself into my chair. When I wheeled into the living room, I found the guys scattered across it—Ben in the recliner, Ian and Gavin on the adjacent love seat.
“What’s up, man?” Ian offered me his knuckles as I passed by and bumped mine against his.
“You good?” Gavin gave me a once-over, scanning every sweat-drenched inch of me.
“Never better.” I hefted myself onto the couch with an oof, elbow crawling across it so I could snag my phone off the end table. My breath caught in my throat as I powered on the screen, then whooshed out in a sigh when there wasn’t anything new from Jules.
I pulled up our text messages, quadruple-checking that my apology text had actually sent the day she left. It had. It was still hanging out at the bottom of our conversation, unanswered.
I should call her. My thumb hesitated over the call button. Or maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I should give her a little more time to get back to me. A day? Another two? Was that too long? Not long enough?
“Felix?” Ben shuffled through his stack of papers on the coffee table. “Care to weigh in?”
“Uhh . . . nope.”
Gavin pitifully tried to cover his laugh with a cough.
“So you’re good with the vegan meal plan?” Ian scraped a hand over his jaw.
“Wait, what?” I shot a glare at Ben. “Who the fuck suggested that?”
“No one, jackass.” Ben reciprocated my glare. “We’re firming up our publicity spots while we’re on the road.”
“Well then I really don’t care.” I waved a hand at him. “Just tell me when to show and where and I’m good.”
“That’s it? Just when and where?” Gavin’s head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing.
“Yup.” My gaze snuck back to my phone as I silently sent call me vibes out into the universe.
“You realize that everyone and their mother is going to want to talk about what happened, right?” Ben asked.
“And I’m assuming you and the PR team have already drafted the go-to response. I’ll memorize that shit and spit it back out at them.”
“What the hell happened to you, man?” Ian barked out a laugh. “And where the hell can we get that kind of attitude adjustment for Ben?”
Ben’s only response was to give us all a hearty middle finger.
“Well, I’d tell you, but Benny boy would probably rip my head off.”
Gavin leaned forward, chin in hand. “Your answer involves the R word, doesn’t it?”
A muscle twitched in Ben’s cheek. “Don’t go there.”
I completely ignored him. “The R word and the L word.”
Ben practically snarled at us. “I do not love Rachel.”
“Chill.” I held up my hands, palm-first. “The only L word I was referring to was laid. But good to know where your head’s at.”
Ian cleared his throat, jumping into the conversation before Ben really did rip my head off. “Speaking of the L word—yours, not Ben’s—how is your actress?”
My answer got eaten up by the leather as I buried my face into the cushion. “Let’s not talk about the J word either.”
Chapter 28: Juliet
Foggy. Everywhere I looked, the clouds hung low in the sky, practically scraping against the sidewalk. All the drizzle and grayness was a gloomy thing. I would’ve thought my mood was influencing the weather if it weren’t for the fact that the scene outside my hotel room was just typical London weather.
A knock blended with the sound of the door opening, and there was only one person who’d be that nonchalant about bursting in my room. “How’s it going in here, Jules?” Ally asked.
“Fine.” I gestured to my head. “Hair’s all done, makeup’s on. Just have to put on the dre
ss.”
She frowned. “You don’t sound fine.”
I peered through the haziness, just able to pick out London’s famous clock tower. “Did you know that it’s not really called Big Ben?”
She sidled up to the window next to me, gaze turned in the same direction. “All right, I’ll bite. What’s it really called then?”
“Elizabeth Tower.”
“Then why do they call it Big Ben?”
“Well, according to the book I read on the plane, it’s entirely possible that it’s named after Sir Benjamin Hall. His name’s inscribed on one of the bells.”
Ally laid a hand on my arm, not at all fooled by my inane trivia. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I just . . .” I went to run a hand through my hair, but froze inches before encountering the bobby pin filled, hairspray encrusted hairstyle. “I hate the way I left things with Felix.”
“Well, have you heard from him at all?”
I gnawed on my lip as I shook my head. “Not a word. I actually haven’t checked today though.” I did a brief sweep of the desk next to me. “Have you seen my phone anywhere?”
“Hmmm.” She sifted through the thin layer of clutter on the desk, then shifted her focus to the coffee table. “Ah, here it is.”
She held the phone out to me, but I shook my head. “You check.”
“All right, umm let’s see.” She pursed her lips. “There’s nothing. I’m sorry, Jules.” She shrugged. “Maybe you should just call him.”
For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t called. Or hell, even texted. Was he really that upset with me for refusing to bow down to the wishes of my stalker? I’d thought about it the entire flight over here, replaying the conversation in my mind over and over and over.
My conclusion: he hadn’t been wrong. But neither had I. My life was more important than my job—true. Except no matter how true it was, I couldn’t back out of my commitments. It wasn’t who I was.
Now, was it entirely reasonable that after this movie was out in the world I could fade into the background for a while, take some time off? Sure it was. But I still wasn’t convinced that doing so would really be any solution at all. I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my career permanently. Which meant that the minute I stepped back in the limelight he’d be after me again.