The Right Direction

by Kathy Coopmans

  She stands there on the verge of crying. Fake tears, I’m sure. Her hair is pulled back so tight it pulls at her slanty little eyes. Bitch is stupid as a rock standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, acting unruffled when she’s anything but. I can see the steam coming off her body like a fog. Bring your best game, Gwen.

  “I left a few things here. Came to pick them up. You would have known that if you’d answered me when I called out to you before you left the courthouse. Where’s your friend, or should I say girlfriend, being that you had the nerve to climb all over my shit and divorce me for cheating when you’ve been doing it all along.” What a lying bitch. She sure does know how to dig her claws in and draw blood. I’d give her credit if she were worth it.

  The muscles in my jaw tick. It takes the man I am, the love I have for Joslyn, to try and keep calm when all I want to do is knock her on her ass and squeeze the life out of her. Frighten the shit out of her the way the people she hired did to Joslyn. I’ve never raised my hand to a woman, but Gwen is coming into my house and tossing accusations around like she still owns the place. Knowing full well I didn’t do a thing to ruin our marriage, one that was doomed before it even began, flat out pisses me the fuck off. Keep your cool until it’s time to strike, Roman.

  I laugh and watch her grimace. Christ, it feels good to be able to shake the pedestal she has herself on. Can’t wait for the day to watch it crash to the ground on top of her. “Well, I’ve been trying to call you, too. For an entirely different reason. You didn’t leave a fucking thing here. And if you did, it’s in the trash right where you belong. You weren’t expecting me to be here, were you? You were hoping Joslyn was here. Why would that be, Gwen? Woman, you have lost what little is left of your mind if you think you can take her on. You come face-to-face with her, and it may be the last day you breathe. You fucked up messing with her. Joslyn has a backbone, and she will slice you open. You are fucking dumber than I thought you were, and trust me, I think you are really fucking dumb right about now. That’s okay, though. I’m glad you stopped by, actually. I was meaning to give you a call to thank you for being the one person responsible for putting Joslyn back into my life. You see, if you hadn’t been so hard up for attention all of these years, no one would have given a fuck about our divorce. I wouldn’t have popped some loud-mouthed fucker you probably paid off in the face. So, thank you, Gwen, for being a psycho jealous bitch who showed her true colors before it was too late for Joslyn and me. Now, get the fuck out and leave my stuff.” If she so much as takes one step, I will toss her out, and she can take that and tweet the fuck out of it.

  “Really? Why are you trying to reach me? So you can rub her in my face? I’m not afraid of you or her, Roman.”

  “You should be,” I threaten, ignoring her other questions. Let her sweat the answers out herself.

  “I never had a chance, did I? You’ve loved her all along, and yet you married me. Why?” For fuck’s sake. Not this shit again. The sound of her whiny voice is throbbing violently around my skull; it’s a miracle in itself my head isn’t cracking open.

  “Don’t have to answer to you. I’ll give you a piece of advice, though. You have to trust and love someone to make things work. Relationships are a two-way street, Gwen, not one-way, and you sure as fuck don’t try ramming someone up the fucking ass when you care about them. You’ve been doing that to me all along. Take your pathetic ass and go. I might have thought I loved you; I didn’t. Never loved anyone but the woman who sees me for who I am. We are over. Done. Not sure what kind of game you are playing by showing up here. If you're expecting to cause problems between Joslyn and me, it isn’t going to happen. Our relationship is built on trust, which you and I never had. You started a battle you can’t win. You crossed into my territory when you fed your followers lies, and I don't forget. You keep on, and I won't rest until you are beaten down. There isn't a place you’ll go where I won’t find you. You underestimate and miscalculate how much I hate your fucking guts. I’m done playing by your rules. You want a war, then keep this shit up.” And trust is the foundation to what Joslyn and I have. I trusted her before I knew what the word meant. Trust her more now than I ever have in my entire life.

  “You want to talk about trust after what she did to you? She didn’t even have the decency to come to you after she lost your baby. She disappeared. Went on with her life for years while you secretly wished for her to return, and the minute she does, you have her in our bed, in our house. The ink isn’t even dry on our divorce papers, Roman. The two of you make me sick. I’ll end you and your precious band. You know I have the power to do it. I will not be humiliated like this, Roman. I won’t.”

  I snap. Every cell in my body locks up tight. I can hear the bones in my neck crack. My head splits right down the middle. Memories of just how evil she is hit me deeper than the hole I’d love to push her in and shovel the dirt over her myself. A gust of wind coming in through the open French doors knocks all sense of reasoning out of me. Gwen’s death flickers through my mind faster than the speed of light. Years of pent-up anger threaten to spill over for trying to just survive in this fucked-up life that’s consumed me. Hatred so fierce on one side and the determination to save the woman I love from the clutches of this venomous snake on the other. My body shakes, and my stomach churns by the time I make it to her.

  I cage her in without touching her. Gwen’s face washes blank with fright. Her body freezes, and I’ll bet her brain is freaking the fuck out. Good, my reasoning with her is gone.

  I snatch her purse from her hands, dump the contents on the floor, kicking them all over the place to make sure she isn’t trying to trap me with recording this in order to start another Goddamn scandal that plays her as the victim.

  “What the hell are you doing, Roman? Have you lost your mind?” Fuck, yes, I have. You made sure I did. Panic strains her voice and anger warps my already mucked-up mind. I want to cause actual physical harm to this woman, which is not a good sign for a man who has reined in his temper more times than I can count.

  The one piece of thread that exerted itself trying to hold me together over the past few years breaks and frays. I’m on the edge of becoming deranged.

  “I’m going to say this once, Gwen. One motherfucking time. If you ever talk about her again, I’ll bury you alive. I’ve kept quiet long enough because that’s who I am. You don’t get to speak her name. You don’t get to talk about my past. And you sure as fuck don’t mention the word ‘trust.’ You know nothing about her and me, and you won’t go near her. She’ll crush you and enjoy it. Your hatred for me is nothing but a mutiny of insecurities for yourself. It’s the hate you have for your own misery, for the people in this town who see you for the person you really are that has you so fucking blind to how life works, yet you lack the brains to understand. It’s so much easier for you to blame someone else for your uncertainties than to leave things alone and move on with your life. Why is it so hard for you to suck up the truth and swallow it? You pegged me to the wall, cheated on me. Which I’m grateful for because it made me realize that you were nothing to me. What the fuck did she ever do to you? I’m not giving you the power this time to talk anymore. You’ll shut the fuck up and slither back to your boyfriend, or I’ll wreck you and tell the world how much of a gold-digging slut you are.” I clench my jaw, tighten the hold I have on my fist resting next to her head, and stare at her long and hard. What in the fuck did I ever see in this woman standing before me?

  “You have no control over me. Giving me the power to speak my mind was your biggest mistake. I’m going to talk. I have so much more left to say, Roman. If you had paid attention to me instead of spending every chance you got with Marcus and your band, you would know I’m not dating anyone. All men are the same. Out for one thing and one thing only. I’ve tried calling you for over a month so we could talk this out. I never wanted anything from you except your love, and it’s her fault you couldn’t see me standing in front of you even when I was. Mister high a
nd mighty Roman Nixon, the man every woman wants, is nothing but a lying cheat. My husband drove me into another man’s arms. He neglected and abused me. Hurt me both physically and mentally. I’ll make you and her pay for making me look like a fool, and as far as your threats go, you don’t have the balls to talk to the press. You're scared of them.” The only thing I’m comprehending from the vile spitting out of her mouth is the sly innuendo she’s trying to pull on me. She knows better than to threaten me with saying a Goddamn word about something she knows would shatter more people than just me. Fucking bitch is gone off the deep end of crazy.

  I need her out of here so I can think. “I don’t care who you are or aren’t seeing. Caring about what you do, who you get your claws into next doesn’t mean a thing to me. You’ve lost your mind if you think I give a shit what you do with your time. The only thing I care about is her. You talk all you want, Gwen, about her and me. There won’t be a thing you say or do that will make either one of us walk away from each other. What the hell part of that isn’t registering for you? I’m onto you. I know it was you who had her hurt, and you are going to rot in a jail cell for it. One more thing, you try messing with the band, and it isn’t just me who will destroy you. You might want to reconsider that threat, or you’ll wind up at the bottom of the ocean. You need to understand the meaning of sacrifice. It means you, Gwen, will keep your fucking mouth shut about things concerning my friends, or you’ll have more people out to ruin you than me. They won’t stop until they have demolished you. Messing with me is one thing. Messing with them puts you on a level you won’t be able to compete with. You talk and see what happens. I have connections much higher than the lowly paparazzi. They will stomp you flat. Beat you down. And you’ll never want to show your face in this town again. I will make sure of it.” A flare of hostility flits across her features as her hand comes up and slaps me across the face. I clench my teeth just as tightly as I try reaching for that broken piece of thread. This bitch is goading me, daring me to strike out at her. Violence runs through my veins, and fuck all if that’s not exactly what I want to do.

  “I don’t know what you're talking about. I never hired anyone.” She’s lying. I’ve said what I needed to say. She knows I’m onto her. Let her squirm.

  “I think I’ll call my lawyer and press charges for that. Trust me; she’ll love standing in court and putting you in your place while you're shackled in cuffs. You talk and see what happens. Not warning you again, bitch. Christ, I have to be the dumbest man alive to have fallen for your charade. Knew your type before I met you. All of you the same, spreading your dose of sweetness all around, opening your legs in hopes you’ll snag some rich bastard without lifting a finger to work. Thinking the world owes you everything when no one owes you a Goddamn thing, and somehow I still let you in. Funny thing that I was just telling Joslyn how bad of an actress you are when the truth is, you’re good. Too bad the producers in this town don’t think so.” I know my words push her over the edge and drive a knife straight into her heart. The craving she has to be on the big screen is bigger than her hunger to try and damage me.

  The pleased grin glistening in her eyes wears out when I lift a brow, step back, and point to the floor. I’ve had enough. “Pick up your shit and get out.”

  An hour later, I’m tearing through the streets of this fucked-up town. My voice is booming through the speakers in my SUV as I holler out my frustrations to Jennifer. I need to see Joslyn. Hear her voice, touch her. Give her the news I was planning on calling her about before Gwen showed up. Anything to take my mind off this. This day is all kinds of fucked up. Hell, this whole situation is.

  “Roman, you need to calm down. You can’t go to this press conference on Monday all heated up. Your fans need to see the real you, not some pissed-off version she’s created. You’ll feed right into her hands if you do.”

  She’s right. If I didn’t want to fight this on my own, I would spill my guts out to the world.

  “I will once something is done about her. She can’t just walk into my house and threaten the band and me. And Joslyn has too much going on, or I’d beg her to press charges against the tabloid who took her picture. Luckily, the bastard who did isn’t the one I decked, or he’d be dead by now. You need to apply some pressure and get this bitch to stop. Jesus, Jen, when I came home from running some errands, I was feeling good in spite of what happened to Joslyn. Had Gwen out of my life even though she’s still trying to be a thorn in my side. But this is crossing the line even for her. I won’t sit back and wait for her or anyone to pull the rug out from underneath Joslyn or any of us. A person can only take so much. You and I know why I won’t ever talk.” Gwen does, too. That reason alone is why no matter how far I’m pushed, I won’t speak my mind. Gwen and I may not have been together when all the shit went down with Dean and his family, but I couldn’t live with myself if people brought it up again. The bitch has me tied up tight. Knows what this would cost if someone were to find out. It will cause pain to hearts that will always remain raw. There’s no way I’ll be responsible for opening those wounds back up.

  “Fuck. See what you can find out. I want to know what she’s up to.” I disconnect, weave my way through traffic, and will myself to calm down.

  Trying to remain calm is far from easy when you’re holding on to bits and pieces of the people’s lives you care about. I need to take my time, set about doing this the right way. There are innocent people involved when it comes to the secret Dean holds. Not just adults but kids. Kids who have no idea what really happened that frightful night.

  My chest constricts, anger stirring up memories of something we all tried to hide. I can’t take the chance of letting the one thing Dean’s kept hidden in order to protect his family from what happened to slip out. He buried that shit deep, but it still festers inside of him, and it will for the rest of his life.

  Those little fingers called regret and guilt creep out again. Jagged edges are scratching at my throat.

  I might have fucked up when I pushed her over that edge. She could tell someone the truth about what happened to Dean and his family out of spite to pay me back. Damn it.

  I need to be better than her. Think long and hard about how to get better than she ever thought of being. I’m going to scare the ever-loving shit out of her before this is over.

  My mind drifts. Fucker can’t stay on one subject long enough to figure out what to do. Hell, there are too many things going on in my life that I don’t know which one to handle first.

  I flick the blinker and pull into the parking lot. Rest my arms on the steering wheel and let my darkened thoughts take over.

  My ex-wife is plotting something big. I know she is. She isn’t smart enough to be doing it alone either. It makes me wonder how long she’s known about Joslyn and me. Plotting away at some sick, twisted revenge. And for what? The need to know for sure drives a fist in my gut.

  I climb out of my vehicle, take a deep breath, and focus on the task at hand. Get this shit done and continue on with what I had planned.

  There’s nothing I can do about what happens with Gwen until I catch her in the act, but there’s something that needs to be done about seeing that Joslyn is happy, and this news is the place to start.

  Chapter 12

  Joslyn

  It’s been a couple of days of non-stop work and an unfocused mind since I last saw Roman. My bruises are healing on the outside, and thanks to makeup they are barely visible anymore. On the inside of my worn-down body, it’s a whole other story.

  Roman believes it’s Gwen and someone else behind what happened. I can’t for the life of me fathom how a person could be so evil. If this is true, then everyone involved needs help, and I’ll gladly give it to them by making sure they go to jail. I’m sure that would hurt her more than anything else. God, I hate her.

  I've often prided myself in ignoring my internal aches and pains created by the hand life dealt me and just carrying on regardless. It’s an impossible task to do anymore. It
possesses me, rules every thought, controls every action, and it’s affecting me in an unthinkable way I’m not comfortable with at all.

  A part of me wants to find out what she’s up to, while the other part knows to leave it in Roman’s hands, to let him figure it out while I fight with my own personal issue of trying to find my brother. Several more days lost of possibly building a relationship with him. I could have tried to find him after I began to heal back then, but every time I started, I lost my nerve. I had no idea where he was or if he’d heard about me, and I sure wasn’t able to travel to see him. I was a mess. Hurting and in pain. Both my heart and my body.

  I fiddle with the papers as I sit at my desk in my office, admiring the sky. It’s stunningly beautiful. It’s an endless picture where at times it turns an uncontaminated, uninterrupted lightest of blue that stretches seamlessly beyond our wildest imagination, yet at others, it’s dark and gray. Cloudy, hazy, and matching the thoughts roaming through my mind.

  When the sun rises with its bright pinks and oranges bleeding into each other, we all wake to pray for another clear day. When it storms, the demanding brightness of lightning lights the low heavy, darkened clouds that are cascading angrily overhead in an attempt to bring you down, and then darkness falls. The moon and the stars are hidden behind the clouds, giving off no light, no guidance, not a damn thing to help you register through the recognition that you’ve somehow managed to make it through another day.

  Days used to bleed together for me just like the colors of the sky. I woke, got ready for work, weaved my way through the crazy LA traffic, and busted my ass to prove I wasn’t just a woman in a fancy suit and my brains were actually in my head and not attached to my breast or between my legs. This high-powered job in a city like Los Angeles isn’t an easy task for a woman who wants to climb to the top unless she shows her grit and determination to match the best. I do. That’s why I’ve proven myself time and time again that I can wrestle and win with the toughest of them.