by Cecilia Lane
Her heart thudded against her breastbone and her hands shook as picture after picture of her was linked and spread across websites. Her mother had undoubtedly seen them since she had alerts to monitor for any news. Contacts. Friends. Fans. Her agent. She was on display for everyone to see.
Becca snapped her fingers. “Oh, that’s nice. She’s not even paying attention to my explanation anymore.”
“Becks, something’s wrong,” Leah muttered.
With a strangled sound, she threw her phone to the table. Rylee reached for it first and her eyes turned sad. “Meghan…”
“I need to go,” she said blindly. She pushed away from the table and glanced around. Purse, that was what she needed. Phone. Keys. “Sorry.”
Bentley. It had to be him. There was no other explanation. He was the only person she’d posed nude for and he was pissed enough to release the photos. It was just another parting shot.
Meghan wasn’t sure how she made it back to her cabin. Her phone started ringing as soon as she walked through the door. Her mother. Gray. Her mother again. Bentley. She let everything go to voicemail.
Between rejecting the calls and ignoring the text messages, she read through more headlines. She couldn’t help herself. She’d seen the same scandals break over friends and coworkers and swore she would be careful. And she had. The man she’d been convinced to marry was the only one in possession of nude photos. She should have been able to trust him and he was the one who betrayed her.
Meghan froze when her agent’s number flashed across the screen. Several hours had passed by that point. She still didn’t have the courage to answer. While she’d ignored all the other messages, it was with trepidation that she let that one play.
“Meghan,” her agent began with a soft tone, “by now you’ve probably seen what’s running loose on the internet. I need you to give me a call so we can make a statement. Paper Report also would like a word. I don’t know how to break this to you, but they’re rescinding the contract offer due to a morality clause violation.”
Meghan didn’t hear the rest. She simply powered down her phone and crawled into bed.
No job. Probably no serious prospects for at least a year, if not more. She’d maintained an approachable and wholesome reputation and that was shot to pieces by one man’s actions. Everything she worked for, all the extra time while on set, the late nights when she finally made it to a college campus, all of it was for nothing.
And everyone in the world had seen her naked.
It was unfair. She’d done nothing wrong. She left him and tried to make herself invisible. She didn’t announce their separation or rub his face in it. She tried to keep out of his way and he was the one who stirred the pot with the security team retrieval and his continued needling of Gray. When that, unsurprisingly, didn’t win her back, she had to suffer. Bentley’s dick wasn’t plastered all over gossip and porn sites. It was her face and her body on display.
She didn’t know she wanted to cry or scream. A blank sort of in between settled over her.
Anger came first. She drummed her heels against the mattress and balled her hands in the sheets. She pretended her pillows were Bentley’s face and threw hard punches at them, over and over. She kicked and threw them around the room until the hurt arrived.
She didn’t know how long she cried. Her stomach and sides hurt. She collapsed into emotionally exhausted sleep and when she woke to a pounding on the door, the sky was black with night.
Meghan dragged herself out of bed and made her way to the door without turning on any lights. She couldn’t see anything through the peephole. When she cracked open the door, a basket rested on the ground. She glanced around, but she couldn’t see anything in the night and the only thing she could hear was the rustling of leaves in the trees.
She carried the basket inside and flicked on the light. Sandwiched between a stack of to-go boxes was a bottle of wine. A note was wrapped around the neck and secured with a rubber band.
The girls told me what happened and also said you might want to be alone. If you give me a name, I’ll beat up whoever did this.
I got you a bottle of wine since you don’t like real drinks and a selection of food from the diner and the barbecue place. You can ride out the storm, Hollywood. You can do anything.
I’ll be around when you want to talk or need a hug. No pressure. (The girls made me write that.)
-Gray
Meghan swallowed the lump in her throat. He may have been told to stay away, but she was sure the idea to leave her something was all his. He was noisy and inappropriate, but Gray had a heart of gold. And after the worst day of her life, with her head pounding and eyes feeling like sandpaper, she did want that hug.
It took her several minutes to find her phone and several deep breaths for courage before she powered it back on. She was bombarded by a frightening number of missed messages. But those weren’t what she concerned herself with. She wanted the support of somebody who cared and wouldn’t put all the blame on her. She wanted to feel safe and secure in the arms of a man who rescued her and fought for her and brought her a basket of food so she had no reason to venture out before she was ready.
Just as she was about to go through her contacts and call Gray, her screen buzzed with new activity. Her mother’s name filled up the screen.
Meghan thought about sending it straight to voicemail or allowing it to ring and ring and ring. But Gray had been kind to her. She wanted comfort. She wanted her mother.
“Meghan? Meghan, oh thank God. I was worried sick about you. I had no way to reach you. I was scared that you’d done— Honey, are you all right?”
The worry sounded genuine and Meghan collected herself before she answered. “I’m fine. I mean, as far as I can be. Mom… I lost the job at Paper Report.”
“I know, honey. I know. We’ll make this right. Are you safe? Do you need anything?” Mimsy paused and Meghan heard her let go of a low breath. “Can I… Can I come to you? If that’s what you want.”
A request, not a demand. And Mimsy’s tone hadn’t changed. There was no judgment or harshness. Only worry coated her words. It broke through Meghan’s wariness.
“Yeah, Mom,” she sniffled. “You can come.”
Chapter 19
Meghan opened the door and was immediately enveloped in a bony hug. Her mother’s bag banged against her arm and her signature perfume filled her nose. It was too strong, like always, but it was home.
“Oh, Meghan, it’s good to see you. Let me get a good look.” Her mother pulled out of the hug and pushed her back a full foot. She tapped her finger against her lips and Meghan had the sinking, familiar feeling of being appraised.
Maybe it had been a mistake to invite her mother. She’d felt like a failure the night before and she let that insidious emotion trick her into feeling weak. She chewed on her lower lip and waited for the other shoe to drop.
Mimsy didn’t say a word. She put an arm around Meghan’s waist and twisted them into the cabin and shut the world firmly outside.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, Meghan hoped. She just wanted someone to lean on and understand.
Gray had done his best, but his response was layered with wanting to take action. He held her and didn’t push her to speak once, but there was still something between them. It wasn’t blame, he made that clear. She had trouble pinpointing it exactly and finally settled on him wanting to solve the problem instead of just letting her sit with it. It was like she was deep in a well and he was at the top calling down solutions and words to make her feel better when she wanted him in the well with her.
Mimsy’s eyes darted around the space, from the small kitchenette to the couch, and the feeling of judgment returned. “This is… cozy.”
Meghan smiled brightly. “It is. And it has a great view out the back. Very private and beautiful.”
She went to draw back the curtains and cut her mother’s disapproval off at the pass, but she should have known better. Mimsy couldn’t keep her
opinions to herself.
“If you wanted views and privacy, you didn’t need to come all the way up here. There are safer places.”
“Yes, Mother,” she said with a sigh and sank into the couch.
Mimsy looked around at the sparse furniture and discarded every possible chair. “Now, Meghan, we need to deal with the elephant in the room. Do you want to make a statement or do you want to hope this all blows over? Lord knows there are others out there just flaunting their photos. The tabloids should latch on to them in a few days.”
Meghan dropped her face into her hands. “I don’t want to talk about it to anyone. I hope it blows over, but this is going to have serious repercussions on what I really want to be doing.”
“Well,” Mimsy tsked, “You should’ve thought about that before you took pictures in the first place.”
Meghan’s mouth set in a hard line. “They weren’t meant to be released to the public. I took them for Bentley, not so he could use them to hurt me.”
Mimsy waved a hand in dismissal. “Bentley would never do such a thing. He called me last night to ask how you were doing with all this scandal.”
“Then who did it? Because I know when I took those pictures, I know who took them. Bentley did this, Mother.” She shoved to her feet and paced away, turning her back on her mother to stare out onto the deck. She was lucky that no photographers lingered outside, trying to get a picture of her. She wanted to fall off the face of the planet.
And Bentley… The jerk just wanted her pain. It wasn’t enough to ruin her burgeoning career or threaten the town where she stayed or personally go after a man she liked. No, he had to drag her mother into it just to hear how she was taking her punishment.
So much had gone wrong since she made the decision to leave Bentley. She tried to be a positive person but found it increasingly harder to remember all the good she experienced in just the last couple weeks. Bentley ensured that he poisoned her happiness.
“I’ve talked with your agent,” Mimsy spoke again.
Work was the last thing on her mind. “Mother—” she started.
Mimsy raised her hand to stop her, then opened her purse and dragged out a stack of papers. “If you insist on being in this wretched part of the world, you should at least think of your career.”
Meghan chewed on her cheeks to keep from saying words she would later regret. She had thought of her career. It went down the toilet with the release of her pictures. She’d need to dig through the wreckage to build herself back up.
“There is a lot of curiosity about what goes on in these enclaves,” Mimsy dumped a whole load of derision into the last word. “You could do some good by shedding light on them. No one has been granted filming access rights and certainly, no one here has your clout. This could make us a whole lot of money, Meghan.”
Mimsy held out the contract and Meghan refused to take it. Not until she caught sight of the name at the top. Real Shifters of Montana.
Meghan snatched the stack from her mother and flipped through. It was a standard reality television contract. She’d seen more than a handful over the years and refused them all. It wasn’t anything she was interested in doing.
But with everything crashing down around her, did she have any options? Her degree would be useless for most serious programs. Any producer or hiring agent would know her morality clause violations with a single search of her name.
Bentley showed no signs of giving up. If she did a show that highlighted the challenges in life inside an enclave, maybe she could combat some of his pro-human propaganda.
Maybe her life would be easier if she just gave in and stopped fighting against the flow.
Then she reached the final page that outlined an overarching conflict between the main couple of the show. One half would be set up as a sympathetic supporter of supernatural citizens, and their partner would play the opposite role demanding stricter laws and regulations.
Meghan stabbed a finger against the paper. “What the fuck is this?”
“Language, Meghan—”
“Oh, no. You don’t get to shame me into silence. What does this mean? Who do you have planned to set up as my partner?”
Mimsy pursed her lips in disapproval. “Your husband, of course. Bentley has already agreed.”
Meghan threw the stack of papers into the air and screeched in frustration. It had been a mistake to invite her mother back into her life. The woman was incapable of thinking of anyone but herself.
“You have to marry him.” Mimsy licked her lips in a nervous expression that Meghan didn’t expect to see. “There is no money, Meghan.”
That gave her pause. “What you mean? I have my trust. It reverts to me in just a couple weeks.”
“There is no money,” Mimsy repeated.
“How? What happened to everything I earned from the diaper commercials and Family Promises? There should be years worth in the account.” Her mouth dropped open in realization. “You spent it all?”
“Oh, yes, get upset over the care I provided. I guess I should have sent you to the set teacher instead of paying for a private tutor. All the lessons, the trips, the clothes, making sure you were seen by the best people, none of that means anything to you. I put a roof over our heads. I worked hard for your career, Meghan. That money was just as much mine.”
Meghan bit off her harsh laugh. “Yours? You were the one under scrutiny your entire life? I wish you had sent me to the teacher on set rather than giving me a private tutor. At least then the other kids wouldn’t have hated me. It was my income from my paychecks and you blew it all?”
“You need to marry up in this world so we can continue our lifestyle. Do you want to see your mother sent to the poorhouse?”
“Why don’t you just marry him yourself, Mother? You obviously like him more than I do. I think you like him more than you like me.” She ignored the aching the ball in her stomach and marched right for the door. Yanking it open, she focused furious eyes on Mimsy. “Out,” she ordered.
“You’re making a mistake, Meghan.”
Meghan shook her head. “My biggest mistake was trusting that you ever had my best wishes in mind. Go find someone else to leech off of, Mother. You won’t get a damned cent from me again.”
That anger didn’t subside even when her mother’s eyes wet with tears. The slumped and shaking shoulders did nothing to sway her. She tried calculating the price of Mimsy’s purse and clothes and jewelry and felt sick when she factored in the cars and home. She’d been assured her trust was in place and everything else was Mimsy’s own money from acting as an agent during her early years and taking on new clients after Meghan. It’d all been a lie so her mother could live the lifestyle she wanted.
Meghan raised her hands to ward off a last minute attempt to drag her into an unwanted hug. She closed her ears to the cries outside her door. She had to take a cue from her mother and think about herself for once.
Chapter 20
Leah slid a bottle of his favorite beer across the bar. “That’s for telling Meghan I’m the best bartender in town.”
Gray took a swig and flashed Leah his best smile. About time that paid off. “It’s only the truth.”
His alpha’s mate squinted at him. “You’re just getting the one.”
“Don’t be like that, Leah. It’s my big day.” It wasn’t every day the SEA was forced to drop two investigations on someone. He wasn’t sure of the details, but something had lit a fire under Meghan. She’d called and threatened the local office and then the staties when Agent Haskell wouldn’t help her. Everyone seemed willing to sit on their asses and wait for Gray to screw up a third time and she was having none of it when all evidence went against their narrative. Only a few days after she threatened to go to the media did he receive word that his name was cleared.
And the best part? She agreed to go out in public again. Becca had done her damnedest to ensure no one would sneak into Bearden with the sole purpose of snapping pictures of Meghan Wilcox, but his mat
e was understandably nervous. The night was too important to stay in, though. He no longer had a sword dangling over his head and it was all thanks to her.
“And I’m sure the others will have you drowning in alcohol as soon as they get here.”
“They could take forever. They have another half hour on their shift and I’m here all alone.”
“It must really suck to have your life,” Leah said with zero sympathy. “Just like it really sucks that I have to be here listening to this instead of getting pampered with the other girls.”
“So you understand. Keep the drinks coming.” Gray swallowed down his disappointment with a long draw of his beer as Leah rolled her eyes and moved down the bar. Hopefully, the others wouldn’t have a late call and Becca and Rylee would deliver Meghan to him shortly.
A man slid into the seat next to him in a cloud of cologne. Gray turned, planning to offer the human a word of advice to lay off the strong stenches in a shifter establishment. Instead, his eyes fell on Bentley fucking Moore.
His bear surged to life inside him. The man was nothing but trouble. He’d hurt Meghan, fucked with his own life and that of his sister, and was a general pestilence on society. Gray thought about slamming his fist right into the man’s smiling face and maybe knocking out a tooth or two. The marks on his record had been removed. It’d be worth adding one back if it meant laying Bentley fucking Moore out on the floor.
The only thing that kept his fists to himself was the thought of how Meghan would handle it. He spooked her the last time he got into a fist fight with someone, even if they deserved it. She was having a rough time of it and he wouldn’t add to her plate of problems.
Gray pointed at the man and smirked. “You have some balls to come in here.”
“I’m simply trying to be the bigger man.” Bentley held out his hand. “She’s made her choice. You won. Now you get to live with that ambitious wretch of a woman.”