“Lisa!”
My mouth drops open and I stumble backwards in surprise. Marcus. He saw me. Shit. Fuck… oh god, I think I might vomit. What am I doing? Crap. I lean forward on my knees and breathe for a moment, convincing myself that I’m doing the right thing. He’ll hurt for a while, but he’ll throw himself into his music and write a series of massive hits. Then he’ll go on tour and fuck so many groupies he’ll forget all about me. I’ll go live my quiet life with my dog and all will be right with the world again.
But first, I need to get out of here.
My heart wedges itself in my throat as I travel down. My plan is to make it to the parking garage and escape through an emergency exit. I just have to hope that I don’t set off any alarms.
Fuck. I’m a total bitch. I hate the idea of Marcus hurting because of me. But I can’t let my hope of love and a happy ending get in the way of what the right thing is. This isn’t a movie. It’s real life. I need to be logical. I need to protect him from his own stubbornness.
Regaining my composure, I stand up fully and smooth my hand over my hair. The lift pings and comes to a stop on the third floor.
“No, no. Keep going. Shit.” Dropping, my head, I dig through my handbag to find my sunglasses and hide my face.
“Leisel.” I snap my head back up and curse the universe when I’m once again looking into the blue eyes of Jonathan Masters. “What a pleasant surprise.” He grins as he steps in next to me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
He grins and bounces a shoulder nonchalantly. “Just visiting a friend. A lot of press out there today. She feels like she can’t go outside.”
“And how does your fiancée feels about this friend?”
“She’s at a spa or something. As long as she has the ring and the Platinum Card, she doesn’t question anything I do.”
“Ah, true love,” I sigh mockingly. The lift opens in the car park and I step out in front of him. Pausing for a moment while I survey the area for a way to get out.
“Lost your car?” he asks.
“No, I’ve just lost my mind and my right to a quiet life, but as long as you’re happy…” I retort. Just seeing him again makes me so angry. I feel like running a car into his house all over again.
“Listen, Leisel. Despite everything that’s happened, I don’t hate you. I’m actually sorry the press are after you again. And if you need help sneaking out, I’ll help you.”
I respond with a suspicious look, which garners a laugh from him.
“Come on Leis, you know me. I may be a philanderer, but I’m not a vindictive person. I would never throw you to the wolves. You can hide in the back seat of my car and I’ll get you out of here. That’s what you want isn’t it? You’re trying to run off again?”
Meeting his eyes, I nod.
“Then let me help you. It’s the least I can do.”
I take a deep breath. I don’t want to trust him, but he seems like the best option for me at the moment. “OK”
Marcus
A loud metallic echo rings out through the cement garage as the door bangs against the wall and I step out into the cool air of the underground. The sound of a car going over the speed bumps draws my attention and I race toward it.
I catch it as it waits for the metal security gate to open and knock on the driver’s window.
“Shit. It’s you,” I say, slightly out of breath from running.
“It is me,” Jonathan Masters, Lisa’s ex-fiancé and the start of all this crap, replies, looking me up and down like I’m some kind of freak who’s wasting his time. “Is this about an autograph? Do you want one?” He’s a dick.
“Is she with you? Did you see her?” I ask, trying to get a look inside his car, but his window is barely down and I can’t see much more than his face.
“Is who with me?” He drives forward slightly when the gate’s alarm goes off because it’s been open for too long, and I walk beside his car, refusing to let him go without answering me.
“Who the fuck do you think? Leisel. Did you see her leave?”
“You know Leisel? Is she here?”
“Who the fuck do you think all this press is for?” And as if he doesn’t know me.
“Me. Obviously.” He chuckles before moving the car again and once again, I move with him, keeping my hand on the edge of his window.
“Even you can’t be that conceited. Did you see her or not?”
“Not. Now if you’ll let go of my car, I’d like to get out of here. Paparazzi tends to mess up my wax job.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
“Mate, I’m fucking in love with the woman you hurt. If you’re lying to me, the next time a car goes through the front of your house, it’ll be me behind the wheel. You feel me?”
“One hundred percent, mate,” he says, putting his car in gear and speeding off just as someone in the crowd shouts my name.
“It’s him. It’s Marcus Bailey.”
I turn to run back into the parking garage, but the fucking door has already closed, leaving me standing on the sidewalk in nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a plain T-shirt. No shoes. Nor do I have my keys so I can get back in.
Fuck.
Lisa
“You can sit up now. We’re clear,” Jonathan says after we’ve been driving for about ten minutes.
I pull the blanket off me and get up from the floor of the back seat, looking around cautiously.
“Leis, relax. I’m not lying to you. If you’ll remember, I never once threw you under the bus publicly. I never spoke out against you, and I dropped all the charges against you. I was pissed off, but I didn’t want your life turned upside down the way it was.”
Sliding onto the actual seat, I pull my seatbelt on and look out the window. “I know. I did it all to myself.”
He looks at me via the rear-view mirror. “You always did have a temper on you.”
“And look where it got me. I hate this fame game, Jonathan. I don’t know how you do it.”
“I guess that’s because you’ve always been famous. When you come up from nothing, it makes it a little more rewarding.”
“I don’t want to be known for anything. I just want to be left alone,” I reply, looking down at my hands.
“What are you going to do about Marcus Bailey? Are you leaving that behind too?”
I close my eyes, squeezing my emotions back before they flow out of me again.
‘I’m fucking in love with the woman you hurt’
The comment, and the distress in his voice keep replaying in my mind. There’s this intense heaviness in the centre of my chest that aches and nags at it. It wants me to go back to him.
I swallow against it, wishing it would go away. “Yeah. I have to leave it behind. He’s just like you. It won’t end well if I stay.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“What do you mean?”
“No offence, but after you broke up with me, I wasn’t chasing after you like he just did.”
“It doesn’t matter. Every way I look at this, I can’t see it working without one of us giving up on something that’s important to us. For me, it’s my privacy, and for Marcus, it’s his career. One of us would be forced into unhappiness. How can that work?”
Marcus
“Oh my god! It’s Marcus!” Someone screams and all of a sudden, I’m being pawed by many sets of hands, grabbing at my shirt, my arms. The cops immediately come to my aid and push the grabby people back. My shirt is in tatters.
Flashes are going off everywhere, making it hard to see what’s happening. The yelling and the questions are this cacophony that makes absolutely no sense. I’m thrust through the front door of my apartment building, almost tripping from the momentum.
I keep moving forward, feeling awful that all of this is happening because I’m living here. The other residents must hate my guts right now. No one knew I was here until yesterday. I had hoped I could come back to Australia and have some sort of a ho
me for a while instead of living out of hotels. I guess that’s just not going to happen.
“Hey Serge,” I say as I walk barefoot towards him.
“Mr Bailey,” he replies with a nod, acting completely professional despite my appearance.
“Do you think you could give me a hand to get back upstairs? I didn’t bring my keys.”
“Certainly, sir.”
As I ride up in the lift, I seriously have to fight with myself to keep from bursting into fucking tears. Why did she have to take off? Why couldn’t she stay, talk to me and sort this out? I get that she’s scared. Hell, I’m scared too. But she ran. She fucking ran. Without me.
“Fuck,” I yell, slamming both hands into the side of the lift. “Fuck.” I do it again and again before dropping my head against the cool of the metal. “Fuck,” I whisper, just breathing to calm myself until the lift reaches my floor.
The moment I make it inside my apartment, Theo and Naomi are on me. “What happened? You’re on the fucking news again.”
“She took off,” I reply, zero emotion in my voice. I’m numb. I’m fucking numb.
“She what?” Naomi gasps. “Oh no.”
Moving with purpose, I collect my keys, wallet and put on a pair of shoes and a new shirt.
“I feel like this is my fault,” Naomi says, watching me in the doorway.
“How is it your fault?”
“Because I asked her to consider what she was doing to you,” she squeaks. “I only meant for her to think about sticking around so you didn’t have to leave. I never meant…”
“Fuck,” I yell, pegging my torn shirt across the room. “Fuck. When are you people going to realise that I’m doing this because it’s what I want? Can you seriously tell me that either of you wouldn’t do the same if it meant you could be together?”
They look at each other and Theo nods. “You’re right, brother. I’d go to the ends of the earth for her.”
“Well, me too. And now I have to go back out there and try to find her before this shit storm gets even worse.”
“I’m sorry, Marcus. I really didn’t—”
“I know.” Standing in front of her, I pull her into my arms and hug her tight. “And I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through. I’ve been an arsehole, and you didn’t deserve it.” I release her and turn to Theo. “Neither did you,” I say, holding out my hand.
He takes it and pulls me into a hug. “Water under the bridge. Now, let’s go out there and find your girl.”
“What?” Naomi looks between us.
Theo stands up and grabs his keys. “We need to take him. They’ll follow his car.”
“Oh shit. Yes,” Naomi says. “Let’s go.”
I place my hands on top of my head and blow out my breath. “Yeah. OK. We can take the van.”
Lisa
“I can’t see any reporters,” Jonathan remarks as we turn into my street.
“They’re probably all camped out at Marcus’s. They still think I’m there.” I crane my neck, trying to see if there are any cars I don’t recognise in the street. Everything seems clear.
I point out my house and he pulls into the driveway. “Do you need me to come in?”
“I’ll be fine,” I say as I open the door to get out. “I just need to pack a bag and get my dog then this whole thing can be put behind me.”
“OK. Well, good luck.”
I get out of the car and smile back at him. “Thanks. And thanks for the lift. I really appreciate the help.” His lips curve in a soft smile he reserves for those in his life for whom he has a true affection for. It’s a brief reminder of a time when I was out of my head in love with him. It feels like another life. “Goodbye, Jon.”
His expression drops. “Shit, Leis. Look out!”
God only knows where they were hiding, but a whole group of reporters have appeared and are coming towards me. At first, I freeze, shocked as I stare at them wide-eyed, trying to decide whether I should dive back into the car or run for my house.
I don’t get the chance to make the decision myself. Jonathan throws the blanket and his arm around me, shielding me from the cameras as he ushers me towards the house as the press descends on us, yelling questions.
“Jonathan, does this mean you and Ms Marx are reconciling?”
“Leisel, can you comment on your relationship with Marcus Bailey?”
“Where is Marcus Bailey?”
“Where have you been Leisel?”
“Can you respond to the rumours that you’ve been living in a mental institution for the past eighteen months?”
“Have you spoken to your father?”
“Now that you’ve come out of hiding will you be trying to reconcile with your parents and will you do that on live tv?”
“What do you have to say about the public referring to you as the Honey Badger?”
As we get in the house, Jonathan stands in the doorway and turns to them. “Leisel wants nothing more than to live a quiet life. Please respect that and leave.”
“Are you worried she’s going to lose her mind and stab you if you go in there?” one reporter yells. He shuts and locks the door.
“OK. I guess they were hiding,” he says when he turns to me.
“Thank you… again. Seems like you’re my rescuer today.”
He shrugs. “If I’d been a better person in the beginning, I wouldn’t need to save you now. Consider it all a long overdue gesture.”
“Lisa, is that you?” I hear from in the back of the house.
“Sandra?”
Her voice gets louder as she approaches. “Yeah, the press were everywhere when I got here and I couldn’t get out with Perry so I just stayed. He’s in the backyard.” She appears in the archway and freezes when she sees Jonathan. “You…you’re… oh wow. I’m sorry for yelling at you last night.”
He chuckles. “Seems I bring it out in a woman.”
She grins, her cheeks going a little pink before she tears her eyes away from him and they land on me. “You have a lot of explaining to do, young lady.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I promise to tell you everything as soon as we’ve gotten out of this.”
“The inside scoop?”
I nod. “You’ll be the only one I talk to.”
“Wait. What?” Jonathan asks, leaning forward like he didn’t hear right.
“Jonathan, this is Sandra. She’s a reporter, so be careful what you say.” I give her a wink and she waves me away.
“I’m not that kind of reporter. I don’t print anything without permission.”
Jonathan laughs. “Are you serious? You’re running from reporters and there’s one staying in your house. I hope the irony isn’t lost on you here.”
“No, it’s not. But Sandra is my best friend.”
“Whories over stories,” she says, tapping her fist to her heart and then giving the peace sign with her fingers as she nods.
I look at her and laugh. “Since when is that a saying?”
“Since just now. Ho’s before Bro’s didn’t fit, so I made one up. I think it might catch on,” she tells me matter-of-factly.
“OK,” Jonathan interrupts. “So what’s the plan now that you’re home? Are you just hunkering down or are you moving on?”
“I’m moving on,” I state.
“There’s a lot of press out there, Leis. They’ll just follow you,” Sandra points out.
“I know. We’re going to need a distraction. Which is where you two will come in.”
“OK. What do you need?”
“I need you to leave.” I look between them. “Together.”
The plan is simple. Jonathan covers Sandra with the same blanket he covered me with when we came in. She can carry a suitcase and Jonathan will lead her to his car. The press will naturally assume she’s me and follow them. Giving me a window to escape.
“Here goes,” Sandra says, standing by the door with Jonathan. “Wish us luck and call me when you get to wherever you’re going.�
�
“Thank you,” I say. “Both of you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jonathan teases. “Don’t go getting all emotional on me.” He leans down and drops a kiss on the side of my head. “Take care of you, kid.”
With a heavy heart, I watch from a small gap in my blinds as they leave and the press follows. I give it a few moments to be sure they’re all gone, then I go to the back door and get Perry inside, thankful that I don’t get attacked by a flashbulb to the eyes out there.
The moment I call him in, he’s jumping up and down and swiping his tail from side to side so fast it’s a blur of golden fur. I kneel down and scratch his ears, telling him what a good dog he is as I wrap my arms around him and allow myself to have this one moment of comfort, with the one male in my life who will always be here for me.
“You ready to go on a trip?” I ask him. He responds by licking my face, so I’ll take that as a yes.
When you’ve remade your life, you’re forever afraid the carefully woven strings in the fabric of your new world will fray and come undone, so I’ve always been prepared. Today is the real reason I have a LandCruiser; it was to aid in my escape when the shit finally hit the fan.
Moving around the house, I collect as many essential items as I can and load them in the back of the four-wheel drive then secure Perry safely in the backseat. I leave everything else behind. My house, my friends, my love… I shake the thought out of my mind before I start crying again. I can’t think like that. I can’t ask myself the ‘what ifs’ of this world. I’m doing the right thing. For both of us. I know I’m doing the right thing.
I just wish that painful void in my chest would quit with its incessant aching. It’s making this so much harder.
Eighteen
Marcus
“There. Her house is there,” I direct from the back seat of Theo and Naomi’s car.
“The one with the little step in front of the door?” Naomi asks.
“Yes.”
Without waiting for Theo to turn the engine off, I’m out of the car and racing up to the front door, knocking loudly against the painted white wood.
Beautiful Series Boxset, books 1-4 Page 139