Bad Boy Brody

Home > Fiction > Bad Boy Brody > Page 4
Bad Boy Brody Page 4

by Tijan


  They weren’t my herd. It wasn’t like that.

  “Star?” That was who that guy was?

  “Yep. A goddamn A-list star. We got him because he needs a good movie for his public image. Couldn’t afford him otherwise.” He glanced over again. “He’s playing Peter. The script is mostly the love story that Peter and Karen had, the good parts, anyway. He’s playing the side of Peter we all wanted to have growing up.”

  The fairy tale.

  Matthew downed the rest of his champagne and picked up the bottle to pour himself some more. I finally felt a small ease in the air from him. “The script is getting award buzz already.”

  He was using words I didn’t understand, so I only nodded. I didn’t want to tell him that. I didn’t need to remind him how different I was from the rest of them, from him.

  Shiloh neighed again, this time the sound was closer. She was coming to look for me.

  “Shit.” Matthew glared in the direction the sound came from. “You gotta go to her. I can’t have a feral horse walking around on our property. We could get sued if she hurt anyone.”

  I threw him a look but started from the patio. “She wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

  “She wouldn’t hurt you, but she’d run someone over if she felt threatened, so yeah, she would.”

  Another whinny. She was growing more anxious.

  I avoided the last few steps and jumped over the barrier. I glanced back. Matthew was watching me from above, and I ignored the anger he didn’t know he was broadcasting. “I’ll come back.”

  Immediately, the anger waned, but only a bit.

  He held up his glass. “Be safe, Morgan.”

  I began running, moving soundlessly over the rocks. I was to the barn when I heard him add under his breath, “I love you.”

  I paused for just a second before I grabbed the post and launched myself over the fence.

  He never knew how much I could hear.

  Shiloh was waiting for me. There were two fence lines. She’d come all the way up to the end of the first field. It was the closest she’d ever been to the main house, and at the sight of me, she began moving around. Restless.

  I was halfway to her, far beyond what Matthew could’ve seen, but I felt eyes on me. Someone was watching me, and like a deer, I froze. My head cocked to the side as I tried to feel where the eyes were coming from.

  I turned, feeling my attention pulled toward one of the private cabins, and there he was. The star Matthew talked about. He was standing on his bedroom porch, a bottle in his hand. I could smell the booze despite the distance between us.

  He shouldn’t have been able to see me. It was dark, a black canvas to a normal human, but I knew he could. I felt it low in my belly. A different wave of awareness swept over me.

  It felt strange, alien.

  I picked up my pace and sprinted for Shiloh. She waited on the other side of the fence. Once I got there, I clambered up and threw a leg over her. She turned for the river the second I was settled astride her.

  I didn’t look back, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of him watching me.

  Brody

  Goddamn.

  I cursed when I woke the next day and glanced to the clock. If I got up, I’d make it for lunch. I was pretty sure I had a folder given to me with the itinerary, and they had times allotted for every meal. I shouldn’t have been able to eat. I drank an entire bottle of bourbon last night, but my looks hadn’t been the only other genes I inherited from my family—my stomach of steel had come from my uncle who had been a raging alcoholic. I could inhale an entire pizza with breakfast.

  “Brody.”

  Gayle knocked on the outside door.

  My voice, which was half-gurgle, half-shout was not made of steel. “Go the fuck away!” Pain ripped through my head. For further effect, I reached down, grabbed a shoe, and hurled it across the room. My bedroom was inside the small cabin, but I buried my head back into my pillow. If I heard them, I was hoping they heard me.

  She added, quieter, “I claimed jet lag for your absence this morning, but if you don’t get that million-dollar ass out here, I will personally book you a ticket back to Los Angeles.”

  I was at the front door in a flash, reaching for the knob. Pausing, I glanced down. Yes. I had underwear on, and then I ripped open that door. I held up my hands. “Gayle, I’m so sorry.” I would’ve gotten on my knees if I thought it would help. Real shame laced my veins. “I’m an asshole in recovery.”

  She came inside, shutting the door. “You’re a grieving brother. I don’t care about whatever you threw at the door. I care that you missed a breakfast meeting we had scheduled with the producers.”

  “Producers?” I scratched behind my ear. “I thought I met them last night.”

  “Not the Kellermans. I meant the production company they’re working with on this.”

  “What?” I was searching my memory. I had faults, but forgetting meetings was not one of them. “I had no idea. Really.”

  “Oh.” Her forehead wrinkled again. “Maybe I forgot to tell you.” Then she waved it all away, shooing me. “You’re too young for me to ogle anymore. Take a shower and be up in the main house in twenty minutes. Got it? The director will be there, and you better not miss that meeting.”

  The director. Fuck. I nodded, my hand twitching at my side ready with a salute too. “Got it.”

  She started to leave, but turned back. “Oh, hey.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Kara Toilley is arriving today. Don’t fuck the lead actress. Got it?”

  I smirked but bit my tongue. “Not a problem.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You’re smirking. Why are you smirking?”

  “Huh?”

  Comprehension dawned, and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. “Are you kidding me, Brody? You already screwed her, didn’t you?”

  Three times, in fact.

  I lifted a shoulder. “We did a commercial together. It was momentous.”

  “Is she going to be a problem? Who haven’t you slept with on this movie?”

  I raised an eyebrow, giving her a pointed look.

  She started laughing as she shook her head. “Don’t start fluttering those long eyelashes at me. You’re a boy in my opinion.” She waved a hand up and down toward me. “Your body might be all man, but I view you like one of my kids. That pecker better never harden for me. Got that?” She ended with a bark.

  I did salute her this time. “Yes, ma’am.” But I was grinning. She said I was all man. It shouldn’t matter one bit, but my ego felt a bit stroked. Or maybe it was hearing that she viewed me as one of hers.

  I scratched the side of my neck. “I’ll be good. I promise, and don’t worry about Kara. She’s a hit-it-quit-it type, so I’m sure I was a notch on her bedpost.”

  “Aren’t you to everyone?” She held a hand up, moving through the door. “Just keep the pants on, Brody, and you have fifteen minutes!”

  The shower was quick. Getting ready was even quicker. I put some gel in my hair, letting it dry messy. The look tended to work on anyone who liked guys. Jeans and a shirt were next. I didn’t put on anything super trendy, just simple. When I left the cabin, I knew I was the vision of a celebrity. It was what they hired me to be, so it was the mask I wore for them.

  “Brody.” Kellerman approached when I stepped inside the house.

  “Matthew.” I shook his hand and, recognizing the woman next to him, I nodded. “Shanna Michaels. Hello. It’s great to see you.”

  The director was in her forties, had sandy-colored hair, alert blue eyes, and the same attitude I felt from Gayle. She was no-nonsense and whip-smart—at least that was her reputation. She seemed it in person too.

  She shook my hand, a slight grin tugging at her mouth as if she thought I was being funny. “We’ve met before, Brody. Have you forgotten?”

  Did I sleep with her?

  No. I would’ve remembered. Then I did. “The audition! Yes.”

  “Before that as well.”


  Maybe I had slept with her.

  She said, “You hit on me at a premiere party.”

  I stilled.

  Not good. Not good at all.

  “Shit.” I held up my hands. “I’m sorry. I—”

  She laughed. “Don’t worry. It didn’t go further than that. I knew I’d want you on one of my movies one day.” She caught my hand in a surprisingly strong grip and leaned in close before she murmured in my ear so no one could hear. “But if you weren’t such a damned gifted actor, I would’ve taken you up on that weekend offer.”

  Great.

  Fuck.

  I used to be professional . . . at some point. “I’ll take that as a compliment then.”

  She leaned back, her eyes twinkling in amusement. “You should, and we should get down to business. We have the table read scheduled for today. Kara will be arriving shortly.”

  Matthew was rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. Khaki shorts. Loafer sandals. A slightly pink buttoned-down shirt. He looked like the epitome of every Harvard jackass.

  “Did you sleep well, Brody?”

  Once I passed out. “Yes, I did. You?”

  He hesitated before clipping his head in a nod. “Of course. This mountain air tends to calm me. Always has.”

  Interest stirred in me. “You lived here when you were a kid?”

  “No.” He began scanning the room. “When I was a teenager, and even then, it was only for a few years. When Karen . . . when Karen died, we mostly all moved away.”

  Mostly?

  The image of that girl running away flashed in my mind again.

  I’d been sitting on the second floor patio last night, toasting Kyle, when a flash of movement had drawn my attention as it streaked across the field in front of me. It was only after I watched her run to the fence that I realized a horse was there. I was starting to wonder if the girl was a ghost. Maybe Kyle was messing with me, making me see shit lately.

  “Who’s the ‘we’?”

  He stopped scanning, freezing a moment before looking back at me. His eyes were clearer than before. “What?”

  “You said ‘we mostly.’ Who else was here?”

  He held my gaze steady, unblinking. He kept it tight to the vest, more so than others, but I knew this guy was close to shitting his pants.

  An unnatural smile broke over his face, giving him a plastic look. “My siblings and I. Peter kept the house, but we all moved back to Livingston and then to L.A. later.”

  Not Dad. Peter. That was interesting. “How old were you when . . . it happened?” It. What did they say when they referred to their stepmother’s murder?

  Matthew waited a beat. “I was sixteen when Karen was murdered.” His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. He coughed, clearing his throat. “The twins were fourteen then. And—” He stopped himself.

  I found myself leaning toward him. He was about to say something else, maybe add someone else to the equation. That girl? There was a story there. She was someone to him, someone to this place.

  I didn’t think I was seeing a ghost.

  Or hell, maybe I was. I’d already gotten called out for hitting on my director. I was pretty sure I’d been wasted at that party. Play along? Keep my trap shut? Make sure I didn’t land myself in another heap of trouble.

  Looking over, I saw Gayle watching us as she ignored Abby and a girl from the crew who were talking next to her.

  As if knowing what I was thinking, she moved her head from side to side. It was so slow the girls with her didn’t notice, but I did. And I knew what she was saying.

  Yep. Got it.

  Keep my fucking mouth shut.

  So, I smiled and said the most generic thing I could think of, “How about that weather you guys have here, huh?”

  Morgan

  One week later

  I was stretched out on my back on top of Shiloh.

  The sun beat down on us, but there was a slight breeze that broke up the heat. The sky was bright blue with cotton-candy-like clouds.

  Shiloh’s head was bent so she could graze. Her mane was half my pillow, the bottom of her neck the other. My feet were crossed over each other, resting on top of her back end as the rest of the horses were around us.

  This was a favorite pastime of mine.

  I slept while Shiloh ate, and if I weren’t sleeping, I’d let my mind wander as I watched the clouds.

  Yes, I was usually content if I was with Shiloh or Shoal, but sometimes I got bored. Those were the days I’d venture to the neighbors’ house seven miles away, or even farther down to see what was going on in the local small town. The trip there and back would usually take a few days. There were other times when I’d lay high above the highway. I could feel the breeze against my hair and skin and watch the birds fly below me. Every once in a while, tourists would come along, see the eagles or a bear or even a moose. They’d stop and take pictures, their excited shouts ricocheting up to me. They never saw me. They never looked high enough, and if they had, I would pull back beyond their eyesight.

  The best days were spent at a nearby watering hole. It was shallow enough that it warmed quickly. I loved being there.

  And other days, if I was more bored than usual, I’d go to the house. I’d try to pretend to be human, but then weird feelings would move up inside me, feelings that I didn’t know how to handle. So, once that happened, I’d go back to Shiloh.

  I knew it didn’t make sense to others, but it was my life. It was my world. It was the way I made sense of the senseless.

  But today, I did none of those things.

  Today, I thought of him.

  As the days wore on, as they continued to make their movie, he kept showing up in my thoughts. I’d gone back a few times just to watch. One time, I left the barn to sneak into his cabin to watch him sleep.

  He’d been restless, tossing and turning. A bottle of alcohol on the floor next to his bed, within reaching distance. Every time I watched him, he had one of those bottles keeping him company, but no one else. Feeling a stirring in my chest, I always thought I would find a woman with him, but I never did.

  I tried telling myself I didn’t care.

  I thought he had caught me the time I snuck in. His eyes had fluttered open, and he had lifted his head, a sleepy groan escaping his parted lips. “Wha—” He had shaken his head, but the alcohol took control over him again, and his eyelids weighed heavy. His deep breathing told me he fell asleep the next instant.

  I smiled to myself, remembering that night.

  Alcohol and sweat filled the room, but there was another smell. It was manly, somewhat pine-scented, but it was him. I’d been around enough people to know each person had their own smell, and I liked it.

  I liked him.

  I might be only half from his world, and Matthew said he was the star, but he was different. He wasn’t like the others. He was more. He commanded more. He demanded more. There was a sizzle in the air around him. It wasn’t just me that he affected. I watched the females. He affected all of them, too, even the older ones. It might not have been in the same way, but he still drew them to him. One grey-haired lady looked after him like a mother; another female who was always barking at people, pointing around as she stood by the cameras, had a fondness for him. Her voice was softer, more patient with him.

  I lifted my hands, holding his shirt as I buried my head in it. I breathed him in again. I’d have to take it back and swipe another. His smell was fading, being replaced with Shiloh’s and mine. But until then, I draped it over my chest.

  It had come to be my favorite blanket.

  The stallion whinnied at that moment, and everyone looked at him.

  Grazing was over.

  Brody

  “Cut!”

  We were filming on the back of the river in a valley between the Kellerman’s mountain and the other. There was a clearing on our side, giving us enough space to comfortably set everything up, but trees and vegetation filled the other bank. Higher on the adjac
ent mountain was a clearing like ours. I found myself looking up every now and then, wondering if I’d catch a glimpse of the girl. Then again, that’d been the theme for me over the last two weeks.

  Everywhere we went on the Kellerman’s lands, I always wondered if she was out there. If she was watching. If she was with her horse. If I’d get another glimpse of her.

  A hand fell down, grazing over my groin, and I stiffened.

  “Oh. Sorry.” Kara laughed, but her hand came back for another rub.

  She didn’t sound sorry.

  We’d been filming the last scene for the twentieth time, and Kara kept forgetting her words. Normally, I wouldn’t care. This was part of the job, but it was a scene where I had to keep shoving my tongue down her throat. Every time she slipped up, her hand fell to my ass, and she’d squeeze, pressing against me.

  I was half-grinding against a woman. My dick was up, but it wasn’t her in my head when we were kissing. It wasn’t her body rubbing against mine. It was the damned ghost that had been plaguing my dreams and thoughts since I’d gotten to this place. I could’ve sworn she had been in my room one night, but when I woke, there’d been no evidence she’d been there. The doors were all locked and no window was left open.

  Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling she’d been there.

  Shanna’s hands cupped around her mouth as she yelled, “That’s a wrap. Start taking everything down. We move locations tonight.”

  “Thank God.” Kara pretended to pout, her slim body leaning into mine. Her hand traced down my arm. “If you want, we could take this back to your place?”

  The diva was given her own cabin like me. They thought she’d want privacy. Apparently, it’d been too far away for her to walk every day. She demanded to be moved, and she’d been given the master bedroom instead.

  I grinned down at her. “Not a chance in hell.” My hands went to her arms, and I shoved her away, one clean push to get her body off mine.

 

‹ Prev