by Jodie Becker
Bridget pressed her lips together even as a whimper broke free.
A chill washed over his flesh and hot anger settled in his chest at the futility of the situation. “Katrina,” he said sharply, pulling her attention away from Bridget. “Tell me, what can I do to make this up to you.”
“Tell her. Tell her you don’t love her. You love me.”
“She doesn’t compare to you, you know that.”
Her nostrils flared. “But you wanted to protect her. From me?”
He turned his attention to Bridget, hoping she saw all that he truly felt in his eyes. He loved her and would do anything to see her safe. “Come on, she can’t touch what you and I have. No one can.”
Katrina straightened, her eyes lightening with hope before suspicion narrowed them. “She wouldn’t love you knowing that you have sex with women for a living. I accept that about you and I love you still.”
“I know.”
“I’m loyal.”
“You are. It was stupid of me to let you go. Forget about her. We can start over.”
Katrina nibbled her lower lip, her gaze flickered about the room. “Yes. We can do that, but first we’ve got to tie up loose ends.”
Max edged closer, watching the knife slide farther away from Bridget. Relief threatened to take his legs out from under him, but he had to remain strong. He couldn’t give up his game. Not yet. “Then we can leave this all behind.”
Bridget’s eyes widened as Max glanced at her then tipped his chin to the side, mouthing “move”.
Katrina’s focus sharpened on him, just as he turned his attention back to her. A crazed gleam entered her eyes. “You’re tricking me. She has brainwashed you.”
He knew he’d stepped over some invisible line. Adrenaline and terror coalesced and he lunged for the knife even as Katrina raised it to deliver a killing blow. Tackling her, he brought Katrina to the ground. Burning filled his arm and he looked down at the angry slice along his biceps. They battled for the knife. Spittle hit him in the face as she screamed all types of hate at him. Sweat made his palms slick as he struggled to bring her under control. The knife slipped out of her grip and skidded away.
Katrina kneed him in the nuts. Air exploded from his lungs, agony hitting him like a freight train. He rolled off her, his mind screaming at him to grab her. She scrambled for the knife as Max forced himself to his feet. Half bent over he grabbed the first thing available, a heavy vase filled with flowers. He straightened and hurled it at Katrina’s back. It hit her head with a solid clunk and she went down like a sack of bricks. He hobbled up to her and kicked away the knife. She didn’t even move. She was either unconscious or dead.
He hurried over to Bridget and found her hands held together by handcuffs. Quickly searching for the key on Katrina, he returned to unlock Bridget and hauled her into his arms, holding her close, relief rocking his frame. Bridget shuddered once. Twice. Then burst into tears. It stabbed him right through the chest and made his heart bleed. He patted her hair and whispered words of reassurance and love.
He looked down at the woman who’d threatened Bridget and silently promised she’d never do so again.
* * * * *
The next hour was spent giving statements. Cathy was arrested and Bridget felt as if she was living in a horrible dream. Snatches of music filled with tragedy and misery resounded in her ears. She wanted to block it out. Of its own volition, her gaze sought out Max as he was seen to by a paramedic, his features earnest as he spoke to the officer. As though sensing her stare, he paused and turned toward her. She caught his look of despair before she snapped her head away. Her heart hurt and she pressed her hand over it.
The words that’d once been foreign to her came back into focus. Max was a porn actor. It explained the odd hours he worked and with that knowledge brought a sense of betrayal. Agony pounded behind her eyes and she pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. She tried to hold back the tears. Sucking in a ragged breath she tapped her fingers, attempting to keep her herself from falling into a black abyss of sadness. Desperately she focused on notes of Bach. Her fingers running over them on her thigh. The notes turned to a composition filled with loss and anger. Energy poured from her fingers and she wanted to write it down, to remind herself of what she felt. Then and now.
Something moved in her peripheral and she turned her head to find Max had settled across from her, his features worn and wary. Bridget felt both a surge of happiness and sorrow at the sight of his beautiful face. The bandage stood stark against his tan skin, reminding her how dangerous their situation had been. Notes drifted away.
“It was never Gillian and you knew that.”
Max’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yes.”
Fire burned her lungs. “You would’ve let me charge Gillian for harassment knowing it was Cathy-Katrina.”
Max held out a hand and she reared back. “No. I wouldn’t have let it get that far.”
Her lips stiffened, a snarl hiding deep within. “You let me think this stuff was because of me when it was you. You and your lies.”
Max’s chest expanded slowly and held, a pale wash touching his skin.
“Well?”
He spread his hands as if he had nothing to hide. “I didn’t want to worry you.”
“She tried to kill me.”
His lips whitened at the corners. “Yeah and I’m sorry as hell I ever met her.”
“Is she your ex-girlfriend?”
“No. No, never. She was just some girl I had a one-nighter with,” he said on a grimace.
Bridget licked her lips and gathered her courage to utter the next question. “Is it true? Are you a porn actor?”
Max’s features dropped and her heart followed suit.
She lurched to her feet, even as he did so. He reached for her and she waved him off, backing away as if his very touch would make her shatter. Broken glass filled her lungs and a deathly chill raced over her skin.
“Babe, please.”
“Don’t. You don’t get to call me that.”
She didn’t want to look at the agony on his face. He lied to her. But she had to know how deeply those lies went. “Did you make love to other women while you were w-with me?”
He hesitated and she felt something tear apart in her chest.
“Oh my God.”
Max’s face tightened, his eyes pleading with her. “Since Bryce OD’d I haven’t been with anyone else but you.”
“But before that you had?”
“It was just work.”
“You had sex with other women while you kissed me. Touched me?”
He rubbed the back of his hair and inhaled unsteadily. She wasn’t going to feel sorry for him. “I’ve been faithful since we made love. That must mean something?”
“But for how long, Max?”
His gaze darkened and she knew even he didn’t know.
“How long?” she whispered.
“For as long as I could.”
An ice spear stabbed her right through the chest. The air grew thick with acrid emotions. “For as long as you could? You would’ve done things with other women and left me none the wiser?”
Anger raced across his face. “No. I didn’t know what to do. It’s my job.”
“It’s your job? Was having sex with me work too?”
He glowered. “No. Being with you has been more than just sex. You know that.”
“Do I?” A thought occurred to her and she cupped her mouth, dismay dropping her stomach. “You had unprotected sex with me.”
“It broke. I didn’t intend for it to happen. I wouldn’t willingly put you at risk.”
“But you have, haven’t you?” Her stomach roiled.
His skin paled. “I don’t know.”
Bridget wanted to slap him. To rage at his callous actions, but she remembered him stopping to ensure they were protected even when her drunken mind wanted to feel him naked inside her. How could she have been so stupid? “How could you lie to me? To expose me to things
without my knowing all the details?”
“I wanted you, but I knew you wouldn’t have someone like me. I was going to cross the bridge when I got there.”
“Well the bridge has burned down. What are you going to do now?”
He rocked back as if she’d hit him. “Don’t say that.”
Bridget ignored the tears that crawled up her throat. “What do you want me to say?”
“That you forgive me. Bridget, I know I fucked up. But give me a chance, I love you and—”
“Don’t you say that. You don’t ever get to say that. You don’t even know what love is.”
“I know what I feel for you is real. I know you’re the best thing that ever happened to me and I’m only truly at peace when I’m with you.”
“It’s all about you isn’t it? If I was the best thing that ever happened to you, you wouldn’t have lied to me. You wouldn’t have put me in danger. You…you wouldn’t have let me slip through your fingers.”
Music shrieked in her head and she twisted around and stormed away from him. She stumbled back to her house, the music in her ears sharpening to a composition of betrayal. Leaning against the front door, she swallowed hard. Tears glazed her vision as she was eviscerated by desolation. One leaked past her control and she covered her face with both her hands and wept as silently as possible.
Chapter Sixteen
Max’s stomach ached with hunger but couldn’t stomach the idea of eating. Nothing he ate would stay down and he knew it was because of Bridget. He couldn’t sleep at night and he ran until he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d lost pounds and people noticed. He hadn’t seen Bridget in the weeks since they’d broken up, the only thing that comforted him were her gnomes in the front yard. She was around and that meant he still had a chance. His first day back at work made him feel a level of self-disgust he’d hadn’t felt in years. He refused to perform, much to Vane’s annoyance. Another shoot was set up, and Max stood in the set room, watching them angle the lights and shift furniture.
Demi sat on a velvet settee, her gaze shrewd. She wore nothing but a corset that cinched her waist, her red pumps catching the light. After a moment she approached him and Max stiffened. He didn’t want her to touch him. Hell, he didn’t want to touch any of the women here. He wanted only one and she wouldn’t speak to him.
“Looking a bit pale there, Max,” she said by way of greeting.
Max merely grunted.
Demi dropped her hands onto her waist. “You know, something about you is different. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were lovesick.”
He wanted to snarl at her and instead brought his acrid emotions under control. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just trying to get back into the routine of it all.”
A brow tipped up knowingly. “Viagra will solve those erection issues you’re having.”
“I don’t want fucking Viagra,” he growled.
Demi laughed and Max glowered. “Who is she?”
“No one you know.”
“I didn’t think she would be. Found out what you do, huh?”
“Yeah.”
She hissed. “Tough break. It’s never easy doing what we do. But I guess it’s over now then.”
Max’s eyes narrowed on her, hating the feeling of despair she pulled to the surface. That sickening churn in his gut returned to full force and made the thought of being with another even more unpalatable. He didn’t think he could do this, but now he knew. It was over. He couldn’t fuck another woman when his heart belonged to Bridget. He twisted away from her and stormed from the room.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from here,” he threw over his shoulder.
He marched into Vane’s office and slammed the door. Vane jerked upright at the sound, his eyes narrowing as he took one sweep of Max. “Make it quick, I’m on a business call.”
“I quit.”
Vane didn’t reveal his thoughts by sound or action. He spoke into his cell. “I’ll call you back.”
Max waited tensely as Vane dropped the cell onto his glass desk and folded his arms. “You quit?” Vane repeated dubiously.
“Yes. I can’t do this anymore.”
“You have a year left on your current contract.”
Skeletal fingers skated down his spine. “Then I want to pay it out.”
Vane’s eyes widened then he laughed. “You’re not going to pay it out. You still have to make up the cost for what’s her name,” he said, clicking his fingers.
“Her name was Venus,” Max bit off.
“A bit on edge there aren’t we? I don’t care what her name was or of your magnanimous act to ‘save’ her,” he said using finger quotes. “The issue here is your performance. You’ll get over it.”
“I’m not going to get over it. I’ve run my course and I’m done.”
Vane’s lips thinned. “You’re not done until I say so.”
“I am done and you’re just going to have to accept it.”
“I can sue you—”
“Then sue me! I don’t fucking care. I am sick of being your puppet. I want a real life now and not this endless parade of pussy. I had something before this and I’m not going to let the best thing that ever happened to me slip away because I didn’t have the balls to let this shit go.”
He turned away and stalked to the door, his hand was on the knob when Vane spoke softly, “You’ve already lost her.”
It punched him square in the chest and he shook his head. “I might’ve, but I can be a better person because of her.”
The door clicked shut behind him and he made his way to the car. He sat in his vehicle and stared at the building that’d been his work for almost a decade. As he started the engine, he silently said goodbye and drove away. He thought of the words he needed to say to earn Bridget’s forgiveness. He knew the step to leave his career was the right one and it left him without a parachute, but he didn’t have an option. His love for Bridget surpassed his fear and he was willing to battle for her. To prove to her he could be the man she wanted. Needed.
As he turned into his street, his heart began to race. He felt like a teen about to ask the popular girl at school for a date. Anxiety built and along with that a frisson of hope. Nothing could stand in his way of winning her back. As he neared his house, something didn’t seem quite right. His heart shriveled in his chest and his lungs ceased to draw air. The gnomes. They were gone.
He pulled into his drive and got out on unsteady legs. Every lungful of air tasted bitter. Walking into her yard, he turned about in silent dismay. This couldn’t be right. A sign stood by the letterbox and dread weakened his muscles. He knew before he even looked at the writing what it was. The words “For Sale” robbed him of breath and cut him through with such intensity he had to press a hand over the pain in his gut. Swallowing back the roar that wanted release, he stumbled back a few steps and twisted away.
Looking at the sky, he commanded for calm even as hope snuffed out, never to come to life again. He trudged back to his house, a surreal sense overcoming him. He’d quit and the woman he wanted most was gone from his life. Everything had changed and he could only follow with it. He swallowed at the ball of despair and sucked in a ragged breath. He would go on. He’d said she made him a better man, and he meant it. Even if she was never going to witness the change.
* * * * *
Bridget shut the door to her apartment and threw her keys on the side table. Alex leaned out from the kitchen, the smell of pasta sauce filling the air. “Hey.”
Bridget smiled. “Hey.”
“You got some mail today.”
Wandering farther into the apartment, she leaned against the partition and scooped up the letters Alex indicated. Passing some small talk, she flipped through the envelopes containing bills and paused over one clearly written as a personal note. She instantly recognized the writing and a tremor rocked through her.
“Are you all right?”
Bridget looked up and
blinked. “What?”
“You look a bit upset,” Alex said with a concerned inflection.
“No. It’s okay. I’m just going to read these in my room.”
Alex shrugged nonchalantly and returned to his cooking while she wandered into her bedroom. The room barely fit the double bed it housed and she settled on the mattress, the old iron frame creaking in protest. She missed her stuff, but until she found another place, it would remain in storage. Contemplating the letter, she was torn between self-preservation and yearning. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out a single note.
Dear Bridget,
Over the months of knowing you, you have taught me that some things are worth more than money. You reminded me what it felt like to be in love. I had fooled myself into thinking what I did as a profession was just like any other career. But deep down I knew it was something you wouldn’t forgive easily. Perhaps that is why I kept it from you. I was falling in love and wanted you to love me enough to see who I truly am when the time came to reveal it. But by doing that I was betraying the trust you had in me.
You taught me how to laugh and brought happiness into my life and all I gave you in return was misery. I am deeply sorry for that. I want to be the man you need in life. The man who gives you and only you his whole self, body and soul. And if you can’t find it in yourself to forgive my careless and selfish actions, then I take away with me the knowledge that knowing you has irreversibly changed me. I will forever be indebted to you and will carry you always in my heart.
All my love.
Max
Lungs hurting, Bridget reread the words so carefully written on paper. Each word was like a heartbeat. Stark with honesty and accepting of a future without her. Prickles chased over her skin and music drifted through her mind. She couldn’t see herself forgiving such a big betrayal but his earnest words made her think and she couldn’t have that.
The letter fluttered to the ground and she stood. Pacing the room, she couldn’t shake the music of sorrow and hope flying through her head. She snatched up her cello, settled onto the bed and began to exorcise the notes from her head. Just as she wished to exorcise Max from her heart.