Beyond Hereafter (The Movie Trilogy Book 3)

by Kimberly Adams

  He backed away slightly, accepting the bottle and nodding. “Thanks, Vivie. Come on, sunshine, let’s get you some lunch.”

  I smiled at his favorite nickname for Charlie. He carried her into the living room, and I followed after them, stopping just outside Keaton’s office.

  I considered going back in for a few seconds, but finally followed Luke and settled onto the couch next to them.

  “Cable working?” he asked, shifting Charlie into one arm and positioning the bottle as she suckled eagerly.

  “Not yet. We have Netflix, though,” I replied.

  “Awesome.”

  He aimed the remote at the television, and I tucked my chin into my knees, resting my head on the back of the couch to watch Charlie in his arms.

  Brothers

  K

  “You wouldn’t believe the A-list actresses that we have lined up for an audition,” Frank said, practically giggling over the folder in his hands. “How’s Vivian with this? I’d think she’s mature and professional enough to handle you doing love scenes with another woman, right? Did she read the script?”

  I leaned back in my leather chair, staring out over the Los Angeles skyline. My view was worth the hour commute home, and though I was anxious to hold Charlie, something kept me rooted in my office well after Max had left for the day.

  “Did she fuck him?”

  Frank was obviously taken aback as I turned his way. “She who? What’re you talking about?”

  “Vivian. Luke. Did she sleep with him while I was a rotting away in that hospital like a fucking vegetable?”

  “Jesus, Keaton. No. No fucking way. What’s wrong with you?”

  I turned back to the window, shrugging before I remembered that I couldn’t fucking shrug anymore without my shoulder screaming in pain. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that shit.”

  I sighed, leaning forward to press my forehead into my hands. “They’re close. Too goddamn close. I gave him my giant, penthouse apartment, and he needs to stay there. I don’t know how to say it without hurting either of them.”

  “He’s a good kid. Smart. Don’t know what I’d have done without him the past few months.” Frank shifted, lowering his voice. “You need to talk to someone, Keaton. I love you like my own son. You know I do. But you need to continue seeing the psychiatrist. Physical therapy isn’t enough.”

  “You think I’m making this up?” I asked, grabbing my phone from the desk. “I can log into my cameras right now. I guarantee they’re snuggled up on the couch with my daughter, or laughing about some fucking thing in the kitchen-”

  “Now you listen to me,” Frank snapped, pushing to his feet. I could tell when he was angry by the beads of sweat that covered the prominent vein in his forehead, and I knew then that he was pissed. “Get in your fucking car and drive home to Vivian. She is loyal, and faithful, and she’s been through hell and back waiting for you to wake up. You know Fowler tried to get her to go home with him? Right away, when she was most devastated and most vulnerable. And you know what she fucking told him? She told him that she’d rather be alone than not be with you. She would have rather raised Charlie by herself than be with any other man but you.”

  He slammed the folder in his hands down to my desk, clenching his fist at his side.

  “She said that to him?”

  “Yes she fucking said that to him. And your brother- the kid that you helped raise- has been there, supporting her, taking care of your family until you were healthy again. Don’t you hurt her, Keaton. I won’t let you.”

  “Calm down,” I bit, scraping my chair back to stand. “I asked a simple question.”

  “Don’t disrespect her by even asking me that question. No, she’s not fucking your brother. She’s living in that giant palace that you bought, caring for your infant daughter, and waiting for you to marry her.”

  My jaw tightened as I forced myself to stifle my combative words.

  I knew she wouldn’t do that to me, and I knew that Luke wouldn’t, either.

  Maybe I am going crazy. I reached for my keys, gesturing to the door.

  “Have a good night, Frank,” I told him coolly, crossing my office and shoving through the door.

  . . .

  The house was dark when I pulled into the oversized garage. It was nearly eleven, and I’d gotten a text from Vivian on my way home that she was going to sleep as soon as Charlie did.

  I went directly to my office and poured a drink, downing the bourbon quickly before pouring a second. My shoulder was on fire, and I chased two pain pills with the biting liquid. I knew that I had exactly two Cuban cigars left, and I retrieved one from my desk drawer.

  I stared at the live surveillance of our bedroom for ten minutes watching Vivian’s chest rise and fall as she slept.

  Even with the combination of pills and booze, my erection pressed uncomfortably against my jeans. The sheet had fallen away, and her long, bare legs were highlighted by the silvery shadows of the moonlight.

  The thought of her wrapping those legs around anyone else but me, even if she was acting, nearly sent me into a rage.

  I tried to remember the breathing techniques that I’d been taught, and cringed at the thought of my brochure on Possessive Personality Disorder. It felt like only yesterday that I’d been in the Ferrari with Vivian, laughing about the diagnosis.

  I stood with my fists clenched as I watched a live streaming video of my own fiancée, working myself up into a wrath just imagining her fucking someone else.

  Frank was right. I needed help.

  I knew that she was loyal, and loving, and so goddamn patient with me. I trusted her and I trusted Luke, and there was no reason for me to even consider that they’d fuck around behind my back.

  Still, I stalked through the empty mansion, climbing two stairs at a time to get to our room. Charlie’s nursery was adjacent to our bedroom, and I could hear the steady hum of the monitor coming from the bedside table next to Vivian.

  My mind was swimming, finally muted to the pain in my shoulder. I stopped at the dresser before stripping my clothes off and climbing over her.

  She gave a soft sigh, her arms moving to pull me closer. “I missed you. Stop working so hard,” she whispered.

  I answered her by gripping the sides of her panties, tearing them away.

  She gasped, her eyes opening wide as I sat back on my knees to fumble with the condom. The alcohol and pills were creating a pleasant buzz in my brain, and I gave up caring about trying to roll the rubber all the way over my dick.

  She tried to sit up, and I pushed her back, locking her wrists above her head.

  “Keaton,” she protested softly, wriggling beneath me. “You smell like you were drinking.”

  I ignored her soft words, plunging into her warmth. She gasped and lifted her hips, and I could tell that she was trying to avoid holding onto my shoulders.

  My fucking shoulder.

  “Wait, I’m not ready,” she tried, but all I could focus on was the way that she tightened around me.

  God, it had been so long.

  I was shaky, weak from holding myself over her and disoriented from the narcotics. I came almost immediately, somehow managing to back away and pull out before rolling off of her and passing out.

  . . .

  When I opened my eyes again, the sun was streaming through the windows.

  I was sprawled across the bed on my stomach, naked, and my shoulder felt like it was being torn apart by wolves. I groaned, turning over to my back and cringing at the used condom hanging from my limp dick.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  “Vivian!” I called, forcing myself to sit up on the side of the bed. Narrowing my eyes, I flinched at the dark bloodstains on our white sheets.

  Did I do that? Had she gotten her period? I shook my head disgustedly, moving to the room. I could tell that she’d already showered, and her floral scent lingered behind in the enormous bathroom.

  I stood in the shower for a few minutes
, alternating between drinking the water and wanting to puke from the pain.

  “Hey,” she called from the doorway.

  I punched the faucet, turning off the water and reaching for a towel. She wrapped her sweater tightly around her body, taking a step backwards.

  “V, come here. I can’t believe I just mauled you and passed out like that. I’m so sorry.”

  “I just got Charlie down for a nap. She’s been up since four AM,” she replied, completely avoiding my apology. “How are you feeling?”

  I tucked the towel around my hips, crossing to her. She frowned, letting me cup her face in my hands.

  “You’re tired.”

  “Yeah,” she managed quietly.

  “I’ll clean up the bed and stay home with Charlie today. You get some rest, okay?” I urged.

  She sighed, glancing back at the bed before lifting her eyes to mine. “That’s tempting. But I know you have a lot of work to do, and you have physical therapy at one.”

  “I can miss it. I’ll reschedule.”

  “I can tell you’re in pain.”

  “I’m always in pain,” I snapped, more harshly than I’d intended.

  She tightened her hold on her arms, hugging herself protectively. “I’ll be okay. Robin has to go home to your mom, and after Luke takes her to the airport, he’ll-”

  “He’ll what?” I asked sarcastically, turning away from her to move to the sink. My mouth tasted like bourbon and cigars, and I grabbed my toothbrush, ignoring the holder as it fell over to the countertop. “He’ll come back here and play house? Feed my daughter? Take care of you?”

  I could see her entire body stiffen at my words through the reflection in the mirror.

  I knew her temper well enough to know that she wasn’t one to cower, but rather than fire back at me, she only lowered her eyes to the floor. “I’m going downstairs.”

  “Vivian.” I threw my toothbrush at the sink, turning to follow her. She almost made it across the bedroom before I caught her in my arms, pulling her to my chest. “Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

  “I know you’re in pain,” she repeated, the waver in her voice telling me that she was near tears. “I know you’re not even close to strong enough to be diving back into work, and this house. It’s overwhelming for me, and I didn’t just spend months in a coma and in therapy. You need to slow down, Keaton.”

  “I will,” I promised, and she broke down, her tearful pleas muffled against my bare chest.

  “I love you and Charlie so much. We don’t need this giant house. You know that, right? If we take time away and just live simply for a while, that’s okay. We don’t have to make a movie right now.”

  “Hollywood is fickle, V. They don’t wait long. This is the time. I can do this,” I promised her. “We can do this. I’ll stop drinking with the pills. That was stupid. That was so fucking stupid and I hurt you last night,” I soothed, brushing my hand over her back lovingly.

  “You didn’t hurt me. I just started my period, it was fine.” She sniffed, hugging me with all of her strength. “But please don’t. You’re not the same person when you drink. I know that you... you enjoy drinking, but you can’t combine it with the pills. Okay?”

  “You got it,” I promised. “And I mean it. Today, I’m Mr. Mom. Staying home. I’ll reschedule therapy for first thing in the morning, I swear.”

  As though she was listening, Charlie’s cries filled the room, and Vivian sighed tiredly, backing away and brushing at her tears.

  “I’ll change the sheets. Don’t let me sleep for too long,” she warned, already moving to the new linen closet.

  “Sleep for as long as you want to,” I replied, pressing my lips to her forehead before turning for Charlie’s nursery.

  I couldn’t believe the amount of work she’d done while I was at my office the day before. She’d decided on an amusement park theme in the nursery, consciously choosing to remember the wonderful parts of our first trip to Idlewild, where Charlie was conceived.

  Three large, beautifully painted canvases were hung on the walls, and the mint green and candy pink created the perfect, feminine touch for our daughter’s first room.

  Charlie whined softly from her crib, and I smiled down at her, gathering her into my arms and kissing her silken hair. “There’s my girl. Mommy needs some rest. It’s you and me today. I’m thinking formula, diapers, and Eastwood. Agreed?”

  She cooed in response, kicking and moving her arms animatedly as I changed her diaper. Minutes later, I carried her back into our bedroom.

  Vivian had already crawled into the freshly made bed and was sound asleep.

  I grabbed the baby monitor and pulled the door closed quietly behind me.

  Forgive and Forget

  V

  “Beauty and the Beast is the working title. I want something that is transparent enough to tell the audience what the movie will be about. Beastly has already been done.”

  Keaton’s voice carried down the hall from the conference room outside his office, and I stopped just outside the door.

  I remembered my audition with him for Round-Up, and the nervousness that had taken over and threatened my ability.

  I was frozen in place, unable to turn the handle.

  I was hurting, and I couldn’t put into words the anxiety that kept me from ever feeling settled. Keaton had spent the day with Charlie, and I’d woken to find them snuggled on the couch watching Every Which Way But Loose.

  “She likes the monkey,” he assured me, sitting up and holding his arm out for me. I lowered to the couch and cuddled in next to him, reaching for Charlie as he turned to kiss me softly. “Feeling better?”

  “I slept finally. I needed it. Thank you.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for taking care of our baby.”

  “Well, you stayed home from the office. You didn’t have to.”

  “I worked from my phone. Less distractions anyway.”

  “Less distractions with a three-month-old?” I asked wryly, and he grinned.

  “She’s the best distraction.”

  “Keaton,” I began, “I don’t like what you said in the bathroom about Luke. If him being here upsets you in any way, no matter what the reason, then I’m sure he’ll understand.”

  He stiffened, pulling his arm away and holding his shoulder. “I already apologized. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

  “But if you feel that way-”

  “I don’t. Drop it, okay?” he ordered, glancing at his phone. “If you’re up, I’m going to go into the office for a little while. Just a couple of things to discuss on the title. I have a meeting at five and I’ll be home for dinner by seven.”

  “Sure,” I answered softly, meeting his kiss.

  He climbed to his feet and headed for the stairs.

  There was so much left unsaid. The old me wouldn’t have hesitated to dissect his tone, over-analyze, and demand more from him.

  Why am I so careful now?

  After he’d left, Luke stopped by, meeting me at the front door with my keys in hand and Charlie in her car seat. “I need to talk to Keaton. I was going to drive into LA-”

  “I can keep Charlie here,” Luke offered.

  I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temple to try center myself. He tugged on my ponytail lightly, reaching for her car seat.

  “I should just take her with me,” I thought out-loud.

  “What’s going on? Talk to me,” he urged.

  I reached for my purse, sighing. “Keaton. He needs help, Luke. He’s struggling with the pain in his shoulder, but I feel like it’s more than that. Things are... different.”

  Different didn’t adequately describe the way our relationship had changed. I wasn’t sure that I really knew Keaton anymore, but I couldn’t admit that to Luke without admitting that to myself.

  Luke nodded, squatting to unstrap Charlie from her seat. “Go talk to him. Be careful. Stay out as long as you want to. I got sunshine...” he began, breaking into The Temptation’s �
��My Girl” and coaxing a smile to Charlie’s face.

  I watched the two of them together, realizing how close Luke had become to both me and Charlie over the past year. Keaton had no reason to be upset, but I understood his jealousy. I could feel how robbed he felt of his time with me and Charlie, and I needed to make him understand that we had all the time in the world.

  “Thanks,” I said finally. “Call me if you need me.”

  He waved, carrying Charlie into the kitchen with him.

  I took a steadying breath as I stood outside of Keaton’s conference room, deciding finally to wait for him in his office.

  Kathy stood from behind her desk as I walked back into the waiting area, and before she could open her mouth to speak, I saw the woman sitting in the chair outside of Keaton’s office.

  I’d only met Kelsey once. I’d been on the set of the movie, looking thin and glamorous, with Keaton at my side protectively.

  My belly was still far from being as toned as it had been, and my curves had brought me closer to a size bigger than I wanted to be. As much as I had worked to follow the plan that the nutritionist had given me and do the daily workouts that the personal trainer had instructed, I immediately felt insecure standing across from Kelsey.

  She was perfect. There wasn’t a hair out of place, and I hadn’t even bothered to pull my hair into my messy ponytail. Charlie had spit up on my shoulder earlier, and though I’d changed my top, I was pretty sure I had at least one lock of concrete-stiff hair somewhere near my ear.

  I had put on some makeup, but didn’t bother with lipstick anymore to avoid spreading it all over Charlie with my kisses. Kelsey’s eyes brushed over me from head to toe, non-judgmental and definitely nervous.

  “Vivian, right?” she asked, and I almost laughed at the inane formality of her greeting.

  She knew my name, just as I knew hers.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked evenly, feeling a little more confident knowing that Kathy was standing behind me.

  She batted her eyes, gesturing helplessly to Keaton’s office. “I made an appointment to see him.”