Hard Focus (BAE Book 1)

by Vic Tyler

  We had spent the entire day in his bedroom, wrapped up in each other and several blankets. The room looked more lived in with the boxes of Chinese food and finished tubs of gelato scattered on the floor, all the blankets and pillows ruffled in a constant post-sex mess.

  Benji slept soundly, sprawled naked on his large bed. His face looked so peaceful and young, unlike the usual hardened expression he had on. With the sunlight streaming in through the window, he looked like a marble statue. The intricate auburn waves on his head glowed golden. The light illuminating his smooth, tan skin, his toned chest, muscular arms, long legs.

  I wanted to take a picture. I scrambled quietly through his camera bag and took out the heavy black body. Benji demanded I practice shooting photos to familiarize myself with how each setting affected the picture so that I could better understand how the external elements factored in. But there wasn’t much that inspired me to take photos of anything. Except this.

  Benji stirred at the sound of the shutter, and I quickly turned it off and put it down on his dresser. His eyes blearily fluttered open, and he sat up, stretching. He motioned to the bottle as I was drinking from it, so I offered it to him. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him. I stumbled over, my chest colliding against his face.

  He burrowed his face between my breasts, hugging me tightly. My heart soared overwhelmingly with adoration, with the lingering fear that it would be shot down at any moment. How much longer could we keep this up?

  Benji took the bottle and poured it into my mouth, before using his hand to tilt my chin down. His tongue plunged through my lips, and he drank greedily. He pulled away and smirked, finishing the bottle, and then grabbed my waist and pulled me down to the bed.

  “Morning,” he said, his voice husky with sleep. The warmth from his body and the sunlight wrapped my body in a sleepy embrace.

  I couldn’t help thinking that this is how I wanted to wake up in the mornings. If I believed that I was trying to control my feelings for this man, I was kidding myself. I was already deeply in love with him. I had been for a long time.

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost 7. We have to head over to the studio soon.”

  “That’s enough time,” he murmured, brushing his lips against mine. His morning wood got even stiffer against my belly.

  My head was dizzy with all my blood pooling down to my lower body. “For what?”

  “A morning workout.”

  The schedule for the next few days were packed. Benji and Sam spent nearly the entire time together going out and meeting clients, contacts, and Grant. Sometimes they started outside right away, not stopping by the office. And they didn’t get back in time for closing any of the days, so I closed up and left everyday — a strange unfamiliar feeling.

  I texted Brie to ask her what she was up to since I normally spent Friday nights with Benji when he was around, and he didn’t make it back to the studio today either. I had just finished locking the door when Sam stumbled out of a cab.

  “Sorry about that,” Sam said sheepishly as I unlocked the door. “I forgot my backpack in the studio. Good thing I ran into you though.”

  “It’s no problem,” I said, walking with him to the office. “Wow, you and Benji must be tired from running around the past few days.”

  Sam tilted his head at me and nodded thoughtfully. “I guess so. It hasn’t been too bad since it’s mostly been lunch and dinner appointments. I can’t complain about free food, right?” He laughed.

  Did I hear that right? I frowned. “What about the mornings? And evenings? Aren’t you out from 8 AM to 9 PM?”

  Sam looked confused. “No, Benji and I always met on location for lunch and split right after dinner.”

  Oh. A nauseating feeling grew in the pit of my stomach.

  Sam walked over to Benji’s desk to grab the backpack leaning against it.

  “Oh, is this yours?” Sam asked me, as he picked something up from floor. He held out a necklace.

  Gold chain. Shell. Pearl.

  My stomach threatened to lurch the contents up my throat. I grabbed the necklace and examined it carefully, my mind panicked. No, no, no, no. It can’t be. But it was, every bit of it familiar as I remembered from seeing it often the past decade. But why? Why was this here? There were no recent shoots she had with Benji. Why had she taken it off?

  “Um.” Sam shifted uncomfortably. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I breathed. I put the necklace on the desk. Benji’s desk. “It’s not my necklace. Got everything you need?”

  We left the building in silence, my head swimming with questions and dread. Sam said goodbye and left hurriedly.

  Ping.

  Brie

  Grant and I are going back home for the weekend. Our families insisted... What about you? Don’t lock up the studio too late! Be careful when you walk home <3

  No. No, no, no, no. I picked up my phone, barely conscientious when I dialed a number I never thought I’d call.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi Grant,” I said, trying to hide the shakiness in my voice. “This is Maria.”

  “Hello Maria.” Grant sounded like his usual cheerful self. “This is certainly unusual. What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing much,” I said, clearing my throat. “Um, is Brie there?”

  “Brie?”

  “Um, yeah, she told me you two are going back to the family estate for the weekend.”

  “Oh, we’ll be leaving tomorrow afternoon,” Grant said. “Brie should be at her apartment. Everything alright?”

  “Yeah.” Oh no, I was speaking in a falsetto. I cleared my throat again. “I just couldn’t reach her, so I thought you might be with her. She’s probably just in the shower. I’ll give her another call.”

  “Anything I can do to help?” Grant’s voice took a dangerously curious edge. “Calling me because you can’t reach Brie is a first.”

  “No, no,” I squeaked. Dammit. “I just saw Olivia Wilde and wanted to fangirl about it. So embarrassing. Please don’t mention it. To anyone. Going to call Brie again. Or maybe it can wait. Sorry, just got excited. Bye Grant.”

  I slammed my finger on the red button, hanging up before Grant could get another word in.

  Oh, god. I started walking. I wasn’t even sure where. I wasn’t registering anything I saw or heard.

  Brie. Benji.

  Brie’s necklace. Benji’s absences.

  Why did she lie? What other reason could she have lied for?

  I tried pushing the worst conclusion out of my mind.

  Brie. Benji.

  Brie. Benji.

  Brie and Benji.

  Benji and Brie.

  The heavy pit in my belly felt like it was punching my stomach, and I ran to the nearest alleyway, splattering the cement with the remnants of my digested dinner.

  My best friend and the man I love.

  I stood, coughing out the spit in my mouth and fighting back tears. When I got my head together, I still felt nauseous. There was no conclusive evidence. There was no definitive conclusion. I couldn’t lose my best friend and a man I deeply admired and cared about because I was jumping to conclusions.

  But I love him. I wasn’t allowed to, but I did. No matter what was actually happening, the heartache was going to kill me. If not now, then later. I couldn’t do this anymore.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Maria - Christina Aguilera

  The party was already in full swing when I arrived. Earlier at work, I offered to pick Maria up so we could go to the party together. The past week had been frantic, juggling work, transitioning Sam, planning for the Nat Geo assignment, and whatnot.

  I didn’t realize Maria was being distant and avoidant when I thought we were both just busy. But she looked cornered when I stopped her to ask if I could give her a ride, and the look in her eyes bothered me since. She hastened away and said she’d just see me at the party.

  I sighed, tugging on my tie. I never liked suits — they were so suffocatin
g. But Grant insisted that I dress up today since the venue required more formal wear.

  As soon as I entered through the double doors, my eyes were drawn to Maria, elegantly dressed in a slim black dress with her long hair loosely curled. I started heading towards her when I saw her relaxed, laughing expression directed to the man in front of her.

  “Even mice look delicious when you dress them right,” a disgustingly familiar voice purred next to me.

  “Keep talking, Cooper, and pest control is going to be cleaning up the cockroaches feeding on your remains tonight.”

  “I’ll make sure that mouse feeds on my cum when I shove my cock down her skinny little throat.”

  “You go anywhere near her, and I’ll rip off that tiny little nub between your legs and stick it in your fat hemorrhoidal ass.”

  “Always the empty threats, Reed,” Cooper snarled, shoving his boiling red face into mine. “Give it a try. Put your hand on me, and see yourself get chased out of New York.”

  “I’ll leave dragging your lifeless carcass with me.”

  “Benji.” Grant smoothly slid between Cooper and me, firmly pushing us away from each other. “You made it. Good to see you, Cooper, as always.”

  Cooper straightened up. “If it isn’t Brie’s knight in shining armor.”

  Grant’s million-dollar smile shined at the fat lard next to him. “I do my best to ensure nothing sleazy, vile, and over 200 pounds defiles the air of the fairer sex.”

  “Hah!” Cooper’s belly jiggled as he laughed. He raised his wine glass mockingly and started waddling away. “Can you really call it your best when you’re playing businessman with Daddy Bayer’s credit card?”

  “Did he just admit to being sleazy and vile?”

  “And about not being able to see his toes.”

  “Don’t know how I’m going to survive staying in the same room as Cooper all night.”

  “Thought you were going to bail.”

  “I still might,” I said sourly, my eyes still following Maria.

  Grant followed my gaze and smirked, clicking his tongue as he looked back at me. “Should’ve glued down that mangy nest on your head.”

  “I put on the suit, so deal with it.”

  “I should’ve put it in the contract: mandatory bimonthly haircuts and using at least a whole bottle of gel for scheduled events.”

  “Pretty sure I would’ve noticed something that crazy.”

  “Maybe. If you actually read the contract.” Grant looked at me, curiously. “Is there a reason you look like you’re pining over some lost love? I hope this story hasn’t ended already.”

  I scowled. Grant raised a brow.

  “Are you serious about her?”

  Like I was fucking telling him that.

  Suddenly, the man Maria was talking to reached out and stroked her cheek. She flinched slightly in surprise, and then said something, smiling warmly at him. What the hell?

  Grant grimaced at the scene we both witnessed. “Let’s get something to drink, Benj.”

  He led the way to the bar, occasionally pausing to say hello to random people. Grant had just ordered two whiskeys when Cheddar slapped us on the back. Some of the models she worked with waved as they walked away.

  “How are things going?” Cheddar beamed at me.

  I grunted. “Been seeing your face more often than I’d like to.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Likewise. But —” She emphasized the last word, smiling as she grabbed a glass of wine from the counter. “Seeing you like this makes me happy.”

  She cursed a complaint as I ruffled her perfectly styled hair. Cheddar had always been a good friend. In a weird way, I imagined having a sister around would be a lot like dealing with Cheddar all the time.

  “Cheddar, we’re getting too familiar if I’m making you happy,” I chuckled, sipping my whiskey.

  “Familiar enough to beg apparently.” She winked.

  “You fucking wish. I wouldn’t beg you even if I was tossed out on the streets and homeless.”

  “Well, you’re at my place all the time anyway. At this point, we might as well move in together,” Cheddar chirped, ducking my hand as I tried to cover her mouth.

  Oh, shit. Grant raised a brow at me, his gaze threatening.

  Cheddar stumbled back unceremoniously before Grant and I could catch her. Two large hands firmly held her shoulders up, and Maria’s companion smiled down as he gently set her on her feet.

  Maria’s face popped out from behind him. She looked ecstatic as she greeted us and introduced us to the man.

  “This is Johan,” she explained. “He’s an executive music producer in the area. His company’s doing some really cool work with films. Their latest one was with Wes Anderson. They’re expanding the project right now, and he offered to let me go in and take a look.”

  Maria’s eyes shone brightly, her face lit with enthusiasm. Grant went into business mode, engaging Johan in some conversation about investments or something. Cheddar tapped out, mumbling that she drank too much and needed to go to the bathroom. Maria and I stood together in awkward silence.

  “You two looked cozy together,” I said to Maria, sipping my glass.

  She frowned at me. “We were talking about music applications. He seemed pretty interested in my background in music and photography, so he wanted to hear about my experience with them.”

  “Are you sure that’s all he’s interested in?”

  Maria’s face darkened. She was about to say something when my phone rang. Grant paused to give me an annoyed look. Oops.

  I scrambled to take my phone out.

  “Cheddar?”

  Clatter and unintelligible noises.

  “Hello? What do you want, Cheddar?”

  “Help,” screamed her voice.

  Then a heavy thud and her muffled cry echoed into the phone.

  “You bitch.”

  My skin crawled at the grotesque voice that growled at her. The line went dead.

  When I looked at Grant, the panic buzzing through my body, his face darkened. Maria grabbed my arm as Grant sprinted out.

  “Cooper’s got her,” I said before running after him.

  We ran up the stairs to a dark hallway full of closed doors, frantically opening and kicking down each one. Maria and Johan followed us up shortly after.

  Grant’s angry roar boomed from the far end, the echo ringing sharply in the cold, dark hall. A cold chill ran down my spine. He disappeared into the room, and I ran after him.

  Brie was on the ground, unmoving with her clothes ripped and a dark bruise forming on her cheek. Grant was on top of a large mass of a body, his fists pounding furiously into it.

  I yanked Grant off and saw a bloodied Cooper coughing and spurting blood.

  “I’m going to kill you, you fucking brat,” he gargled, spitting out blood and a couple teeth.

  “Let me go,” Grant said, his voice low and lethal. His pristine white dress shirt was rumpled and splattered crimson. I tightened my grip.

  “Leave him to me,” I said, moving into Grant’s line of sight. “You need to help Brie.”

  Grant didn’t move. Then his tense body loosened, turning his death glare from Cooper to look at Brie. He ran to her, where Maria and Johan were already sitting, Maria speaking in a panicked tone to a 911 operator. Grant took his jacket off and put it over Brie as he carefully picked her head up and held her. I turned to Cooper, his face drenched in bloody drool.

  “Can you walk?” I asked.

  He glared angrily at me but winced in pain. He nodded.

  “Good, follow me,” I said, walking out the door.

  He slowly followed, eager to leave the scene.

  There isn’t really anything I want to say about what happened next. I’ve had my history of violence. And I wasn’t proud of any of it. Including this. But needless to say, Cooper didn’t get to leave. And after I was through with him, he was in need of intensive medical attention, maybe even more than Brie. Even though I didn’t ne
ed to tie his unconscious body, I grabbed a loose tassel and tied him up, just barely cutting off the circulation in his hands and feet.

  Time was agonizingly slow as we waited, and I was scared that Grant was going to cry as he held Brie in his arms, raw devastation and fury mixed on his face. She hadn’t moved at all, but she was alive. After what felt like forever, the paramedics and police poured it, the scene quickly turning chaotic.