Able left before Penny got a chance to see him, again. She went back and forth as to, if, she was happy about that fact. Part of her knew, that it was for the best but part of her, also wanted to spend some more time with the mystery of a man, known as Able Holden Grace. He was so, two-sided. Trying to figure out which one was the real him, kept her intrigued. Was he really the playful, kinda shy guy or was he actually, the sex demon that had invaded her body, and now, had her willing to give up her seat in Heaven, just for him to do it again.
With the miles between them, once again, they went back to their phone affair, or more like addiction. Conversations were getting deeper as the weeks passed by. They stopped being filled with flirting and sneaking around and started being about thing’s that were, much more, real. It started to be about childhood memories and current daily frustrations. They began to help one another figure out life’s annoying issues, all while, forgetting why it was, that they couldn’t really be together.
On Able’s end, he was a man torn in half. Slit down the center, between the love he felt for Penny and the loyalty he still felt toward, Cole. The guilt ate at him but never enough, to make him want to call the whole thing off. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to stop falling, further and further in love with Penny Lane. He simply had no self-control when it came to her. She was a drug and he was already a junkie for her. The thought of this, one-day ending, had his skin itchy and his body on edge.
As for Penny, she stayed confused. The problem with doing what made her happy, was that doing so, seemed to make her very, very freaking unhappy. Now, not only was she still in love with Cole, but she was also, head over soul for Able as well. It made her feel dirty, going back and forth between the two men, but it didn’t feel like giving, either up, was an option. No promises had been given to anyone, but she still felt as if she was breaking them, just the same, on both sides of the triangle.
All in all, it left her feeling twisted up, just trying to sort it all out in her head, forget about her heart. That organ was of no use to her at the moment. It was too busy, either hurting like hell or feeling like butterflies had taken over the beat. It all seemed so impossible. How was she supposed to choose between a man, that she had always been in love with and a man, who she just might be able to love for the rest of her life?
Really, there never was a choice. She couldn’t, actually, have either of them. Not unless she wanted to take on their fame as well and she had no interest in that. She had tried before and failed, she had no doubt, that the exact same thing, would happen all over again. She was just one woman, she couldn’t compete with the lives they each led. Even knowing that, did little to stop her from wanting both of them, though.
Chapter 23
A ble smiled, looking over the floor to ceiling prints, featuring he and Penny’s , last heated encounter. The gallery showing of the prints would be opening in a week. It was set to feature the collection, he had appropriately dubbed, ‘Guilty Love’. The images had all been blown up, filtered, and edited with heavy black and white shades. No faces could be picked out, just body parts. No one would ever be able to tell that they were of Penny or him, for that matter. To the world, they would just be abstract bodies, captured with the click of a flash.
They were breathtaking, maybe, some of his best work, ever. He knew they would be, but never could he have imagined that they would come out like... there wasn't even a word that could describe them properly. The pictures, where a lot like Penny, in that way.
Everyone who had viewed the collection, so far, had been blown away. He had no doubt that they would bring in a hefty penny when he put them up for auction.
A witchy smile was pasted to Able’s lips, as he ran his fingers through the scruffy whiskers that set on his chin. He had a strong feeling that Penny wouldn’t like her pictures being on display for strangers to see, but really, no one was ever gonna know it was her. Even so, normally, he still wouldn't have released them, but he had a plan in mind, that in his head, made it all okay.
He was sick of Penny’s struggles, sick of her having to live in that pit of an apartment, on the shit side of town, and most of all, he was sick of her working in that, shady ass, strip club. She was better than all that, at least in his eyes, she was.
He knew she wouldn’t just, take the money if he offered. But he thought, just maybe, she might agree to take the money that was made off the sales of her pictures. It was pretty legit cash. She was the model for the prints, and models, get paid for their services. Penny loved art and had said, time and again, that she loved his photographs. Hopefully, that would allow her to accept the cash, after all, it’s not every day that you get turned into a work of art.
Cole was excited, more than excited, even. It was convention time. Seven cities, in seven days. Able and he could finally get back to the way they used to be. All it would take was a few whiskey bottles, and some good old-fashioned male bonding, and then, they would be back together and better than ever.
The first convention went great, the fans were wild, booze was allowed, and by the end of the night, Cole and Able found themselves in a hotel bathtub together. Thank goodness, it was one of those large, oversized numbers, or no way, could both of their muscled frames, fit. Either way, it was a tight squeeze.
Bubbles popped and water splashed as they passed a bottle of Jack back and forth.
"I freaking missed you, man, I missed you so freaking much!" Able slurred, looking at his friend from across the tub.
"I missed you too, fuck head. Next time, don’t hold onto your grudge for so fucking long!" Cole offered, tipping the bottle back to his lips.
"I wasn't, I just…," Able, started and stopped, before sucking in a sad breath.
He was too drunk for this shit. He needed to get the fuck out of here before he said something, he shouldn’t. He had no interest in letting the cat out of the bag when it came to him being the worst friend ever.
"Bullshit man, I know you’ve been all butt hurt over the whole Penny thing. Listen, I know I fucked up on that, but you man, you were a fucking trooper. You took it like a man and in doing so, you really proved why you’re my best friend, ever. I know how hard it is to try to let her go, but you did it, and you did that shit, for me! Hell, for us man, me and Penny Lane. I’ll never be able to repay you for that shit, brother, never! I owe you my world, I really do.”
“Stop, don’t even mention it, really, please don’t.”
Able was feeling every bit the piece of shit that he was. As Cole gushed, on and on, about how great of a friend he was. It had him feeling sick to his stomach. Well, it was that or the Jack Daniels.
“No, for real, you walking away, it gave me back my life, it really did. You gave me, one more chance with her. I can’t even tell you how much I love you for that, brother.” Cole praised, sloshing around in the water.
The booze, really had them by the balls, tonight. That's what happens though, when you bring a bunch of groupies back up to the hotel room after a convention. Two rules, never play ‘I’ve never’ with a groupie, and whatever you do, don’t ever believe them when they say they just wanna ‘hang out’ for a while. All in all, though, it had been one crazy, and illegal in a few states, kinda night. Now, though, it was just the two of them, sitting in a bathtub, filled with more bubbles than water, as way too many truths started coming out.
Able’s' eyes felt heavy as he took in his friend. Cole looked fucked, his eyes red, his smile too goofy, too big. Making Able, feel like an asshole, the lowest of the low. He wondered how it was possible, for Cole not to feel all the knives he had sticking out of his back. The mental image of it, was just too much, it had Able opening his mouth, unable to keep the betrayal inside, one-second longer.
"Listen, man, I gotta tell ya something and you're not gonna like it." Able said, in one raced breath. His soul had decided to spill and nothing his brain could say was gonna be able to stop it. He watched, as Cole’s face took on a look of confusion, but before another word co
uld be said, by either, the bathroom door flew open. Five, naked fan-girls stood, with arms crossed over their ample chests.
“We wanna play truth or dare, you boys game?” The tallest blonde questioned, holding out a bottle of tequila with a naughty smirk on her lips.
"God damn, you girls are insatiable! I love it, don’t ever change! But, how about you ladies, give us just a few more minutes to regroup. My friend Able here had something he wanted to tell me.” Cole said, eyeing the girls with a devilish grin. Being famous did have its perks. "So what was it?" Cole pressed on, with the raise of his brow.
"Um…, I don’t even know, anymore. I’m drunk man, just ignore me.” Able back pedaled, hating himself for being such a coward.
Cole woke a few hours later to find the room trashed, and Able nowhere to me seen. That wasn’t a surprise, though. Both men, had one on one interviews with local entertainment shows. They would catch up a little later at the signing, no doubt.
By all accounts, last night had gone awesome. Able, for the most part, seemed to really be getting over the Penny bullshit. All it had really taken, was enough booze to kill a horse and a bunch of overly eager fangirls. Cole wasn’t too proud about that part. He had been such a good boy, until last night. He tried to believe that it had to be done, in order to connect with Able again, but even, he, wasn’t fully buying into that. It had worked, though, pussy just has a way of bringing dudes closer together. It’s fucked up, but it’s true. The same way pussy has a tendency of ripping dudes apart. It’s a bit of a double-edged sword like that. It had almost happened with he and Able, but, Cole refused to allow it. He had six more conventions to attend with his bestie and by the end, all would be back to normal between the pair.
"So, who do you think it is?" Clark, both Able and Cole’s manager, questioned as he held his phone in his hand, turning it from side to side. Rocco, another actor, and client of Clark’s, leaned over, watching as Clark swiped his finger across the screen, making one picture, turn into the next.
"I don’t know exactly, but damn that's… that's… um…" Rocco noted, getting caught up on his words as he took in the graphic art.
"What the fuck, are you two fuck sticks, going on about?” Cole questioned, making his way out of one of the back rooms of the convention center. It was a little place set up for the celebs to chill and munch out between signings and photo ops. It was off limits to fans and set back away from all the commotion of the crowds that flocked the huge building.
"Able’s new photo exhibit opened last night. Twitter, is blowing the fuck up about it. Haven't you seen?" Clark questioned.
"Nope, haven't even been on my phone, yet. Are they any good or just more close up pics of roadkill? I love him but I don’t understand him, sometimes. Fucking weirdo.” Cole laughed, popping a few grapes into his mouth that he had snagged from the crafts table.
"Well, it’s definitely not roadkill, that’s for sure. Here, check it out. We've been takin’ bets all morning on who the chick is." Clark snickered, passing his phone over to Cole.
As Cole’s eyes locked on the image, his brows narrowed. He scanned first one, then another, then another. His finger, steady swiping left as his heart began to beat heavy and hard in his chest. All at once, he forgot to breathe. He knew that collar bone, that thigh, that dip in her hip. He knew that scar, that stretched just above her pubic bone. He knew that dimple on her back, knew that spot of cheek, that curve, that edge. He knew that body, better than he knew his own. Every inch he had touched, every inch he had licked. Every inch was all his, yet those hands holding her tight, where not his own. Cole’s head spun, as he instantly felt sick. Disgust and betrayal where hard things to choke down, but somehow he managed, just barely, though.
"Where the fuck is he?!" Cole’s tone was a low growl that vibrated through his chest as his eyes locked with Clark’s.
“Where’s who?”
“Able, that little fucking mutt!”
"Whoa, is everything okay, man?" Clark questioned, taking in Cole's sudden change of energy.
"NO! Where the fuck, is he at?!" Cole barked, making both, Rocco and Clark, jump in their skin.
"Jesus, he's at his freaking booth, straight down and to the right!" Rocco confessed, earning him a glare from Clark. Something was definitely not right. Clark just wasn't sure
what that something was. All that he did know, was that he had never seen Cole’s eyes turn the shade of black they did, right before he stormed out of the room. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.
Chapter 24
C ole was running fast and hard as his muscles tensed and his heart pounded out of his chest. He was covering ground pretty fast, but not fast enough for his liking. The convention center was large, the crowd's thick. His name was being screamed from all directions as he darted, in and out, of the crowd of fans. He dodged, weaved, and shoved to get around anyone that stood in his path. He had no thoughts of reason or of trying to calm himself. No will or want, to think rationally, whatsoever.
He felt no twinge of loyalty, trying to hold him back. What the fuck was loyalty, anyway? Obviously, Able didn't count it as a real thing, so why should he? It was right up there with friendship and respect. They no longer existed between the pair. His best fucking friend had stabbed him in the back, lying straight to his face like it wasn’t nothing, but it was something, it was something huge. This was ultimate sin kind of shit, in Cole’s book. Able had fucked his girl, and, put it on blast for all the world to see. Whatever they were before was no more.
Clark, was trying like hell, to keep up with Cole as he gave track stars a run for their money. Walkie Talkie in hand, he had no way of knowing exactly what in the hell was going on. He knew one thing, though, something bad was about to pop off.
"Standby, something big’s about to go down! Security, head for zone six, immediately! I repeat, immediately! Stand by, until further notice!” He called out over his security radio, his eyes darting to keep up as Cole zig-zagged through the crowd.
Cole’s eyes, were not darting, they were focused with deadly aim on one thing, one lowly, slimy little mongrel mutt. Able.
Cole growled low in his chest as his eyes locked on his worst enemy. He was standing behind a fold-up table, pen in hand, smiling and signing autographs. Instead of slowing, Cole sped up. His cowboy boots, clashing with the hard floor, with every step he took. At thirty feet away, he ripped off his button-down shirt leaving him only in a skin-tight black wife beater.
"Grace!" He screamed out, with a bear’s growl, right before everything went dead silent. For a moment, it seemed as if time just stopped in its place. Everyone around Cole, stilled as they took note. A clear path through the crowd, sat between he and the, soon to be, dead man, now.
Able glanced up to find Cole, on a dead run, in his direction. His eyes were locked, his orbs more black than green, his face cast in a mask of ‘kill a man’.
There was no time to even react, it all happened so fast, like something out of a movie. Able’s eyes grew wide. It was like a sea parting, as fans pushed back, and Cole came running through. He didn’t bother going around the table Able stood behind, instead, he took a flying leap over it. It was a graceful move that had him looking like Superman in flight.
The tackle that followed, was such a hard hit that the entire crowd winced out, as the two men made contact. Major league football players would have given a standing ovation for the hit. It took Able clear off his feet, sending him tumbling to the ground under the weight of Cole’s body.
Cole quickly, straddled Able’s waist, gripping his collar with one hand, before slamming his other hand's knuckles into his cheek.
"You piece of shit! I fucking trusted you!" Cole snarled, raising his fist before slamming it back down across Ables' face.
Out of nowhere, two large men, dressed in all black appeared, ripping Cole off, from his former, best friend.
"Come on man, get the fuck up!" Clark yelled as he reached down to help pull Able off the floor.
"Get your fucking hands, off him!" He screamed, trying to pull away from Clark.
"Oh, fuck you, Able! You cock sucking, son of a bitch! One on one; man to lying piece of shit. I'm gonna kick your ass straight old school, mother fucker!"
Completing, three moves, with absolute perfection, he dropped both of the security guards to their knees.
“Okay, that was fucking cool, oh shit!” Able noted, losing track of what was happening before quickly, being reminded of the dangerous situation at hand. Free from the guards, Cole was once again, on the attack.
"I need security and you better come in hot! Emergency in zone six. Cole Conners is losing his fucking shit! He is highly trained and dangerous, I repeat trained and dangerous!" Clark screamed into the radio just as Cole made another run at Able, landing a shoulder, dead center to his gut.
With what looked like ease, Cole took Able off his feet, before slamming his back through the cheap fold up table, he had just been signing autographs at. Fans watched on in horror as it played out. Half, wondering if it was real while the other half, stood convinced that it was a stunt. The pair were known, worldwide as being the best of friends and had been for years. No one quite knew what to make of the bazaar events as they unfolded.
Able moved his head, just in time to have Cole’s fist, come down on the broken table beneath him, instead of through his face. Cole, might not have been using his, trained fighting skills, but the man, sure as hell, was throwing hay-makers like a redneck on the 4th of July.
Able took his chance, using all his weight to roll Cole off his body. He knew, that he was a lucky man, that Cole, was sticking to bar room brawling. If he went black belt on his ass, Able would have already been a bleeding, crying, mess on the floor. Either way, he knew he didn’t stand a chance of winning this fight, nor did he want to. He deserved to have his ass handed to him. He wasn’t sure how Cole had found out, truthfully, it didn't even matter. What mattered, now, was that he knew. It was out there, no turning back.
Between a Rock and a Hard Place Page 38