“I’m sorry, Scar. So sorry. Seemed like if I was going in rehab anyway, what did it matter if I went in clean or not.”
Rationalization of an addict.
Although I had experimented and believed I’d done well in creating a natural detox, I knew nothing about the mental therapy that should have accompanied his treatment.
“I don’t care. Just fuck me, Gage. I’m going to miss this… miss you… so much.” When he stroked me with one long finger, I pushed at his wrist and my own twisted demons tumbled out. “Not yet… I want to watch you…”
Gage was happy to indulge as always, but took the game further when I decided that wasn’t how I wanted to play after all. When I reached for him, he pushed me away, all the while pinning those dark eyes to mine as he worked himself. At the last moment, he sank into me with one of his sexy groans. Unbelievably frustrated because I’d spent my time trying to lure him out of the show I’d requested instead of spending my time on myself, I heaved a sigh when his heartbeat began to slow against my chest. And then he whispered in my ear. “How do you want it, Scar, sweet darlin’?” Still connected with me, he lifted his head enough to stare into my face. “Because we’re going to do this all night, every way you want… Soon as I can move again.”
“If you fall asleep…” My warning was stern, but in actuality, I knew he hadn’t been sleeping and would give up sex to watch him at peace for a few hours.
“I won’t. Plenty of time for sleep in the days to come.”
It was almost morning when I fell asleep. I wasn’t sure Gage ever had. Waking to his phone alarm was hell for me, but he was already showered and dressed.
He wouldn’t allow me to ride to Shady Oasis with him.
Holding myself together, I enjoyed one last kiss before he drew apart with the saddest expression I’d ever seen him wear and motioned me into the taxi. The moment he shut the car door, closing me inside, my eyes brimmed. The first tear fell as the taxi pulled away.
I had never flown first class before this last couple of weeks—not that I remembered anyway—and I was already feeling spoiled to the spacy comfortable seats with a cushy pillow and the attentiveness of the flight attendants.
Minutes after taking off, I ate a grilled chicken sandwich and sipped a calming glass of wine. The moment the mess was cleared and the tray folded away, I began to doze.
An hour had passed when I awoke to voices in my section of the flight and with a smile of thanks, I accepted another wine spritz from the attendant. The empty seat next to me was a stark reminder of the days of aloneness ahead.
Would he be my same Gage when released from rehab? What if brainwashing against his addictions broke our relationship?
After the first week, we would be able to talk on the phone. After the first month, I’d be able to see him. But what if something changed with him and he didn’t want to pick up where we left off?
Chill, Scar Dar’. It’s gonna be fine. Did it make me a lunatic to pretend for a second I was hugged against the haven and heat of Gage’s chest while he whispered words of comfort?
I needed a better way to distract myself than what were possibly mentally unstable daydreams. Picking up my phone, I connected to the wireless on this flight.
Cautiously, remembering my last experience on a plane, I made sure my speakers were muted and although this time I didn’t have a seatmate, tilted my screen so only I could view it.
The website had been bookmarked in the deviant part of my mind since I had discovered it years ago. The Ivy and Bradley video was no longer top center. Thank goodness. Ignoring whatever new couple had this unfortunate honor of most views, I tapped the ‘new’ link.
The title of the most recently uploaded video was enough to almost bring my just eaten food back to the light of day.
Gage Remington and Mystery Beach Babe
I closed out the screen, unwilling to mar the memories of the last twenty-four hours while the soreness between my legs was still a pleasant reminder. Of all the times for his past to come back and bite me.
Taking deep breaths, I strived for an inner Zen. When that didn’t work, I ordered a crown and coke and swallowed it down. I was in the middle of another when I couldn’t stand it any longer. Pulling up the website, I sent a furtive glance around and jabbed with my thumb on the link.
It was Gage all right. His eyes alternately closed in ecstasy and open, either staring down at or beyond the woman in his arms.
Watching again, I was consumed by the beauty of him, of the two of them together.
The mystery beach babe?
Me.
Chapter 4
“What did she say?” Ivy dipped her toes into the pool before spreading a towel onto a chaise and plopping down.
I had come from a half hour video chat with a lawyer my publicist had referred. I had begun the process of getting the video removed the moment I’d returned to the privacy of Gage’s house, and continued to make and return calls from Big Sur. What I hadn’t done was call Gage.
“It’s exactly as you said. We were outside with no expectation of privacy. But since a zoom lens was used, there’s a possibility they will have to take it down.”
“Did she say anything about the person who uploaded it? About buying it? Making an offer?
“Yeah. She said if going this route, to get Gage to do it and do it before I’m identified.”
Ivy was in the motion of lying down, but she popped up. “Because if it is deemed legal to leave up, it’s going to be worth a lot. Holy cow.”
“I can’t talk to Gage for a week.”
“His lawyer can!” Ivy’s eyes flew open wide with that revelation. “They’ll put his lawyer right through to him.”
“But he’s in rehab… This sort of shit could be a setback to his health.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and ceased pacing to sit on the chaise near Ivy’s. “Besides. The documentary releases in theaters tonight. Somebody’s going to put a face to the random beach babe.” I forced a wry smile.
“But if they can pull it before someone does…”
“Yeah. But if they can’t, well…” I shrugged. “I’m not sure I care. It’s sexy. And even if I don’t get to keep Gage at the end of all of this, then at least there’s that.”
“Scarla Smythe!” Ivy feigned a properly shocked air.
“Scarlette Conterra,” I corrected, and curved my lips in a reflective smile. “I’m changing my name back. To what it is on my birth certificate. It’s in the works. With all the other legal work when I get back to L.A.”
Being with Ivy was like stepping a decade back in time. My friend was still the same silly, sarcastic, sweet best friend she’d always been. Except for the several years I had only thought she’d been. But it was easy to let the past go when the blender was constantly whirring out cocktails and the Pacific Ocean stretched into infinity.
The only non-blissful part of this trip had been my decision to bring Rascal. Gage had turned him loose at Arrowhead Lake with no problems of him straying. When I did the same here at Big Sur, the animal took off, sometimes down the steep hillside to the ocean and only after much coaxing returned. I wondered if he was searching for Gage and had begun bringing him out of the house on a leash only. This led to him howling from inside the house while we sunned, or pulling at the tied leash hard enough to drag our chairs around when I wasn’t walking him.
A package arrived by private courier on the morning of my birthday. The note inside from Gage had me choked with emotion by the time I read to the last line.
Happy Birthday Scar Dar
Inside the box was a wide silver bracelet with antiqued engraved etchings. A single rose was the prominent art piece and it was surrounded by swirls. Looking closer, I saw thorny vines with leaves.
Ivy kept the drinks flowing that afternoon, and lulled by the deceptive peace of the ocean waves far below the cliff, we discussed going into town for dinner as we had the night before.
I shrugged as I slurped the last of a margar
ita. “The town seems quiet enough.”
“It’s crazy to think how changed your world was the moment you opened your eyes this morning,” Ivy mused, twirling her straw.
Still unable to keep from looking at my bracelet for more than a minute, I gazed at it again while reaching for my phone. This is stupid. I clicked on the browser icon. So stupid. I stared at the blank search bar. But I have to know. I typed my name in. Hit search. Sipped, and then promptly coughed the sip up.
Scarlette Conterra… estimated billions… daughter of rock icon Tyler Conterra …only heir… of trust fund age…
In one form or fashion, heading after heading heralded the news of my birthday and what it meant. Because of the documentary, my part in it, and the publicity, there were current pictures of me to accompany the news pieces.
“I don’t think we should go out, Ivy.”
But we did. Ivy had a devil may care attitude. And I felt silly and paranoid.
Dinner at The Star Fish was fabulous.
Drinks and dancing at Ten Club was fun until I saw a cell phone aimed my way.
Paranoid.
Cell Phone Girl made eye contact and instead of putting the phone away, she nudged her date, motioned with her head, and the guy looked my way.
Not paranoid when they’re really after you!
I turned my back on the couple.
Rapping my fingers on the bar, I waited for Ivy to return from dancing with some guy who’d been buying us drinks.
“We need to go!” Grabbing my wallet, I slid from the stool.
“What? No. I like him!” Ivy took the tone of a five-year-old who was having her ice cream jacked.
“This girl took pictures of me.”
Ivy’s preschool pout disappeared. She listened to the description of the couple, looked over my shoulder, and confirmed with a nod. “You’re right. She’s staring right at you. So is the chick at the table next to her. I can’t believe it’s happening already.”
Ivy clamped her mouth closed when her man joined us. I politely refused another drink when he offered and frowned when Ivy ordered.
“I have a bad feeling.” I confessed to Ivy after dragging her to the ladies room. “We need to go.”
“I really like this guy…” Gone was Ivy’s earlier whine, but still she protested.
“Hiiii…” A woman about twenty two slurred the greeting while looking at the two of us reflected in the mirror. Next, she turned to address me in the flesh. “Some of the girls are saying you’re Scarlette Conterra.”
“Charlotte who?” Ivy jumped in front of me, her brows puckered into a confused frown. Less than a minute later, she had the drunken chick flustered and scurrying out the door.
The moment we were out of the club and closed in the taxi, Ivy groaned. “What is wrong with people? Why do they have to lose their shit just because…” She trailed off when I frowned at her and cut my eyes to the driver.
Ivy turned her attention to the window, likely still pouting over not getting the chance to bang her guy in some dark corner. I pulled up my phone’s recent search history.
Bad feeling validated.
Gage Remington’s ‘Mystery Beach Babe’ already had a name.
Gage Remington and Scarlette Conterra Hot Hot Hot!
Chapter 5
Back at the house yet?
Sent 8:33 PM
Scar
Can you call?
8:33 PM
Without taking the time to text back, he tapped a thumb to her picture and she picked up before it even rang on his end.
“Hey Scar. It’s getting dark. I was hoping you’re home.”
He knew her transportation to and from Big Sur was by chopper, not crowded highways, but knowing she was home before dusk would settle his mind before he crashed for the evening.
“Yep. Got in about an hour ago. I texted.”
“Oh. Yeah. I see it now.” He paused a second, eyeing his surroundings to ensure his semi-privacy. “Listen. I got a voicemail from my lawyer about the video. They are issuing a new cease and desist because their expert is saying the angle of the recording looks like a drone.”
“A drone? Will that make a difference?”
The hope in her question was evident and he wanted more than anything to make it a reality. Scar had been calm and matter of fact when telling him of the video’s existence the first day he could take phone calls. Her legal firm had already been on it. She had texted him the link, and he had shamelessly watched it too many times in a row.
“I don’t know, darlin’. There would be a lot of things that matter. Like where the drone was when it got that clip. But since the laws are really blurry right now, they think it’s worth a try.”
“Have you had any reaction from your label about it?” Her voice was breathy and scuffling noises bled through the phone.
“Not from the label. But Colt said they’re trying to figure out the best way to spin it.” Another thud from her side. He picked at the sticker on his water bottle and joked, “Not even in the band and still giving them hell.”
“Good. Screw them. Karma’s a bitch.” Something scraped, and she spoke over it.
He loved it when she talked like that. Loved her more for taking his side when he had brought his problems on himself. Loved her again seconds later when being the sweet, fair person she was, she retracted her vicious outburst.
“Shit. I shouldn’t say that. I don’t wish bad on Colt and the rest. Just the talking heads.” Another bump.
“What’re you doing?”
“Housekeeping brought down some stuff that was stored in the apartment. I didn’t even know there was an apartment. Any other secret rooms in this house you want to tell me about?”
A chuckle vibrated his throat. “Nope. I want to keep them all secret. I may need to hide you away one day.” Now that they were past the stressful subject, he kicked out his feet and settled more comfortably in the cushy chair he’d commandeered. “You knew though,” he insisted of the roomy apartment over the garage. Remember, you asked about the windows that day when we were pulling in the garage.”
“And you said storage. Not two-bedroom apartment with a gym off of it.” A smile sounded in her retort. “About the storage, I just stacked the boxes in your hookup room.”
“It’s not a hookup room.”
“No? ’Cause a box of this many condoms could only belong in―”
“Scar…” He knew she was playing with him, but there were times he didn’t want to remember life before her, and this was one of them.
“Okay. Sorry. I was just messing with you. I miss you here. Seeing that frown between your eyes when you get all huffy like this…”
“And I miss shutting you up.”
“Mmh hmm. How do you like shutting me up best? With your tongue in my mouth, or your―”
“Damn, I’m not where I can have this conversation…” He eyed his fellow rehabbers. At this time, he could only use his phone while in the common room.
“You could just listen. And I could whisper dirty things―”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Fine.” The scuffling and dragging noises resumed. “So what’s happening there?”
“This evening’s entertainment choices are an action packed game of spades, a gazillion piece puzzle…” He let his eyes drift around the room again and blew out a bored breath. “Or TV in my room.”
“What about swimming?”
“Pool is closed for the night. The cleaner thing floats in it. I went trail riding earlier.”
“As in horses?”
“Yeah.” The throb of his sore butt had been all but gone until he thought about it again. Now he shifted in the overstuffed chair. “Logan get you registered for your classes?”
“Mmh, hmm. I start day after tomorrow. Listen, about that. The security—his name is Mike—he’s just driving me, right? Because he thinks he’s going with me to classes.”
“He is. Where you go, he goes.”
“
No. Not to classes. There’s no place for him to be. He’d stick out and everyone would know―”
“Everyone needs to know. That’s what he’s there for. Deterrent is a big part of protection.”
“No! I’ve done everything you said. I agreed to him moving into the apartment over the garage, as weird as it is to have someone here. So let me have my say in this. He can drive me and pick me up―”
“And go anywhere you go. End of discussion.” The phone was so quiet, he believed she might have hung up. “Scar?”
“What?”
“Please?” Her light breaths barely reached his ears, and closing his eyes, he imagined the angry flecks of gray that appeared in her eyes like storm clouds in a blue sky. “We don’t know what’s going to happen yet. You’re all over the internet with everything that’s going on. So you’ve got the possibility of paparazzi, the public, and who knows what crazies that video will bring out. I wouldn’t have to worry about you so much if the bodyguard is always with you.”
“Okay.”
“Love you.” Lowering his voice to a whisper, he breathed the vow into the phone and soaked the sound into his soul when she repeated it. “You gonna be able to sleep?” Although the trust had become hers the day of her birthday, she was signing the documents the next morning. It eased his mind to know it would be done at his house, and his father would be there with her. Afterward, she was flying to New York for her last scheduled talk show appearance.
“Probably not.” A laugh accompanied that honest answer, and on his end, he smiled along with her. “I’m going to try though. A long bath and a big glass of wine. You been sleeping okay?”
“Usually. But tonight I’m sure I’ll be awake all night. Thinking of you in a bath.” His flirtation came natural, but the truth was different.
Gnawing at the inside of his lip, he considered the last few times he’d tried solo in the shower. His horror when nothing happened. He’d since learned some of the temporary natural supplements in his daily regimen to boost certain hormonal and chemical levels enough that his body didn’t crave outside chemicals were the cause of getting up to the plate and not being able to swing.
Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance Page 3