Beyond Hereafter (The Movie Trilogy Book 3)

by Kimberly Adams

I remembered nodding eagerly. “I can’t take back what I did to Vivian.”

  “No, you can’t, but you can get better. You can work on the reasons why you were drowning in booze to begin with. Do you worry constantly that she’ll cheat on you? Even before she went back to stay with Luke?”

  “Yes,” I replied honestly. “I try to tell myself that I don’t fucking care, but I do. I can’t go through that again. Kelsey was one thing- we’d already grown apart, I had no respect for her any more, but she hurt me. Bad. Vivian could... she could destroy me.”

  “You’re stronger than that,” Dr. Fellenstein argued. “Vivian could walk out of your life right now and you’d survive. You’d focus and probably find someone else. Fast. Let’s work on you, Keaton.”

  I’d agreed. Confidence was something that I refused to believe that I had an issue with, but, as it turned out, I had the ability to act confident while my self-esteem constantly malfunctioned. Then, I became possessive, holding onto everything in my world with such controlling force that I threatened to destroy it.

  I would not destroy Vivian.

  In one of my last sessions with Dr. Fellenstein, we talked about Luke.

  “I was like a dad to him. I was always there for him. I can’t believe he could betray me like this-”

  “You can’t refuse to fall in love with someone. You can keep your hands to yourself, but emotions are not always within your control. Because you love Luke so much, and Vivian too, you need to work on compassion. Understand that your brother stepped in and cared for Vivian in your place during her pregnancy and after the traumatic kidnapping. Keaton, she killed a man. You were comatose, and she had no idea if you’d wake up. Luke being there for her was a godsend. Try to remember that.”

  Dr. Fellenstein reminded me a lot of Frank with a hint of Robin. Smart, no bullshit.

  I had no time for bullshit, not anymore.

  “You need to get to make-up.” Max gestured to the trailers. “And drink more coffee. Love scene’s today.”

  It was always my protocol to start off with the love scenes, and with Max accepting the open vacancy of assistant director in Luke’s place, he followed my procedure to a tee.

  I hadn’t made love to Vivian in so long, and the only time we’d been together since my recovery had been awful for her.

  Nodding, I turned toward the trailers, making it about five hundred feet before Vivian emerged from the trailer to my right.

  We locked gazes, and she automatically reached for a long, dark curl.

  God, she was stunning. Her costume was already in place, a blue gown with a white apron; her hair swept half-up with long, loose curls, and her blue eyes the color of the spring sky.

  I didn’t think, despite all the therapy and thinking and preparing for this moment. Instead, I crossed the road to her, stopping a couple feet from her. My eyes never left hers.

  “You look so good,” she began softly, and I could hear the burgeoning tears in her shaky voice. “Healthy. How is your shoulder?”

  “My shoulder?” I took another step toward her. Her skin was reddening, the tell-tale nervous hives threatening to erupt over her neck and chest. I’m doing this to her? “My shoulder is about six inches below my mouth. And you should ask how my mouth is.”

  She exhaled a tiny laugh, her long lashes batting against her cheeks. “How’s your... mouth?”

  “It’s missing yours.”

  I took another step toward her, and she yanked on her hair even more, swallowing hard as her eyes filled with tears.

  “Keaton, I kissed Luke.”

  There it was. The scene I’d prayed would never happen, the words I refused to believe were even in the script.

  “What...?” I replied, though it wasn’t a question, demand, or even a reply at all. I was struggling for a filter, for compassion, for all the tools I’d learned in therapy.

  Her brows knitted together worriedly, and she covered her lips with her fingertips. “It was once, only once, the morning after... the party... and I hate that I did it, I’m so sorry,” she poured. “But I refuse to lie to you, and no matter what has happened, you will always deserve my honesty.”

  “Do you love him?” I snapped, a little more harshly than I’d intended.

  She nodded once, to her credit still holding my gaze. “I do, but I love you differently. I-”

  “Then we’re done,” I heard myself say, without compassion, or meditation, or thought. “I’ll see you on the set in an hour.”

  She would need more than an hour with the way that I left her crying. Her make-up was ruined, and I slammed the trailer door so hard that it rocked the hinges.

  “Mr. Thane?”

  “Get out,” I hissed at everyone in the trailer, watching them all file out the door behind me.

  Seething, I turned to the make-up counter, raising my arm to smash everything to the ground. As I did, the twinge of pain in my shoulder sobered me, urging me to remember all that I’d worked so hard on over the last few months.

  I flattened my palms on the desk, breathing deeply for a few minutes before turning and opening the door. The make-up artists stood awkwardly just outside the trailer, and I managed an uneven smile.

  “Come back in. Sorry for the outburst.”

  They peered at me as though I had horns, gingerly making their way back up the stairs.

  I sat through make-up for an hour, turning to the mirror to their final product. Unlike other Beauty and the Beast versions, I was to look menacing. Admittedly, they’d done a great job, the shadows around my eyes and the facial hair leaving me rugged and haggard.

  When I made my way from the trailer to the castle, the sun was setting. I noticed a few members of the press snapping photos along the barricades. Though I’d requested a closed set, it was next to impossible to deter all cameras from the area. Inside the castle would be another story; the castle was closed to all visitors during the filming.

  The tower was already set up, and I found Vivian as soon as I entered the room. She was dabbing at her eyes, and I crossed to her without stopping to talk to Max.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Don’t cry,” I whispered, feeling her entire body stiffen as my hands landed on her upper arms. She lifted her eyes to mine, holding her breath as my gaze moved to her mouth. “Thank you for your honesty. That’s more than I deserve after what I did to you and our family.”

  She crumbled then, falling forward into my arms.

  I held her, letting her cry, breathing in deeply the scent of her hair.

  I wished I’d had gone slower with her. I’d never in a million years regret Charlie, but I’d rushed everything between us that could have been cultivated and refined and rooted deeply. She was only human, and so was I, and we’d both been through more in our young lives than most people had their entire existence.

  “Alright Keaton, Vivian- I’m rolling,” Max called softly from the shadows. I felt Vivian tense in my arms.

  “No, don’t pull away,” I hushed, sliding my hand through her hair. I gripped the long curls harder than she expected, and her sharp breath was audible in the dark castle tower. I knew the filming process going on behind me; the microphone was extended by the long boom arm, and one hot light cast shadows behind us.

  I turned her slightly in my arms, knowing the better angle would be with her full profile exposed. She looked up at me, a combination of fear and emotion clouding her beautiful eyes.

  “You’re my prisoner,” I managed to deliver, my scripted lines gravelly from the depths of my throat.

  Recognition dawned on her face, and she narrowed her eyes. I could only assume that she was judging me, estimating that my apology was only driven by our filming schedule. When the inevitable flashes of anger burned her cheeks to bright pink, I slid my other hand into her hair, holding her head roughly in my hands.

  “No,” she breathed as I nearly lifted her to her toes, demanding her mouth meet mine.

  “You will stay here. With me. Your life for your father’s
. Decide.”

  She lifted her hands to grip my forearms, trying to push me away, but I held her steady.

  “You’re a monster,” she managed, her tears catching in her voice as she directed a vehemence at me that I loathed.

  That I deserved.

  “I can be,” I agreed, turning her around so quickly that she tripped over the gown of her dress. The four-poster bed behind her served as a brace for her to grip, and by the time she had her hands around the cherry-wood post, I shoved her body into mine.

  Having her in my arms again sent my blood pumping and my heart slammed into my chest in erratic beats. I pressed my hardened erection against her ass as I dropped my mouth to her ear.

  “No,” she cried again, this time more fearfully.

  But she backed up on me.

  I knew then that she was acting. She’d come so far since the last time I’d directed her. Her movement was so subtle, so personal, that only I knew she’d accepted my direction.

  I bent forward enough to grip her calf, pinching as I drug my hand along her skin and under her long skirt. She gasped, trying to squirm away, but when I reached the apex of her thighs, I slipped my hand between her legs.

  We both knew the camera was rolling. We knew her dress covered what was happening underneath.

  I knew this was the moment of truth.

  The actors and actresses in Dominance were artists, fully prepared to have sex in front of the camera with no inhibitions.

  Vivian had a choice to make, and I was going to make one option as difficult as possible for her to resist.

  She cried out as my finger slid inside of her, gripping the post with all her strength.

  “I’ll stay,” she wept, jerking beneath my touch. “Please let him go. I’ll stay, just don’t touch me,” she pleaded.

  I released her, and she lunged forward, scrambling across the bed to back against the castle wall.

  The surprise on my face was genuine as she swiped the lit candlestick from the bedside table, trusting it in my direction.

  “I’ll kill you in your sleep! I’ll set this entire castle on fire if you ever touch me again!” she shouted, bravely holding back her tears.

  Pride swelled in my chest. She was acting.

  And she was doing a fantastic job of it.

  “Next time I’m in your chamber, you’ll beg me to stay. Mark my words,” I drawled, backing toward the door.

  “Cut. Whoa.”

  I turned to Max, rocked from the enchantment that she’d cast over the entire tower. Slowly I became aware of the lights around us, the microphone, the set design, and the minimal crew as Max crossed the stone floor to where I stood.

  “Did that angle work with the windows behind us?” I fired, hurrying to the camera.

  Max grabbed my arm, shaking his head. “Stop, Keaton. It worked. It worked in one take, if you ask me.”

  I nodded efficiently, trying to move to the camera again, but he tightened his grip.

  “What?” I demanded.

  He gestured toward the bed with a nod. “Go to her.”

  I turned to the bed.

  Vivian sat stiffly on the edge, staring out the window. Her make-up was streaked from crying, an effect that I was sure Max had capitalized on while filming. The emptiness in her gaze was palpable, and her hands were shaking in her lap.

  Hives had broken out all over her neck, and I knew that she was doing her best to calm herself to make them go away.

  I sighed, glancing back at Max. “Can you all give us a little while?”

  Max nodded immediately, pointing at the few crew members and gesturing toward the doors.

  I crossed the room to her, kneeling before her. The bed was high, and my chin rested just over on her knees.

  She lowered her gaze to mine, unflinching. Those blue eyes narrowed.

  “Did you apologize because we were filming?”

  I answered without hesitation. “No.”

  “And you’re willing to forgive me for kissing your brother.”

  “No.”

  She blinked at my quick answer, her mouth falling open a bit.

  “No?”

  “No. I can never forgive either of you. I’m not capable.”

  She lowered her eyes.

  “I get it.”

  “Give me the details. Was it quick? Passionate? Were you in bed together?”

  She sighed.

  “Yes.”

  With her quiet affirmation, my temper flared. I called upon all of the anger management and coping skills I’d learned, tightening my fists until my fingernails dug into the palms of my hands.

  “And you love us both.”

  “No. Yes, in different ways. I’m confused by you, by him, by every man in my life. I just need to be alone.”

  “And what about Charlie?”

  She sighed again, meeting my eyes. “You’re her father. That won’t change. But I’m no good to her when I’m constantly trying to work through my own issues.”

  “You have a lot of issues.”

  “Back at you, Maverick.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at her quip.

  “You probably have more acronyms than me now. Because I’ve abused you.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes. Because you hit me, you fucking asshole.”

  I sat back on my ankles, taken aback by her brutal honesty.

  “Yes, I hit you. It was the worst mistake of my life.”

  “That’s what they all say,” she replied callously, shrugging. “But you know who doesn’t hit me, and never would?”

  “Luke?” I spat, baited.

  “No. The answer is- I don’t know. Because of you, I don’t know if Luke would ever put his hands on me, or if any man would ever hurt me. So yes, I have some new acronyms. I have a lot of new fucking acronyms. PTSD tops the list. So thanks.”

  “We’re not ready,” I realized, the anger and hurt in her voice pushing every button I’d vowed to never press again.

  “No, we’re not ready. We’re not ready to be a family. You’re not ready to marry me. You’re not ready to be the hero I thought you were. To protect me from hurting. To save me from the worst parts of my life. What you did to me became just another thing in my big, fucking suitcase of things that I have to drag behind me forever. For the rest of my life.”

  I knew I didn’t deserve her. I knew she was right. I knew that every word that she fired at me hit its mark with such swift accuracy that there was no disputing their aim.

  I knew that I wanted to fight for her but I didn’t know how, and I knew I had no right.

  Not anymore.

  “Can I please see Charlie?” I finally managed.

  She nodded, turning her gaze back to the window. “Yes. We’ll work out something. I’ll have my lawyer contact yours.”

  The coldness in her tone knocked the wind out of me.

  I nodded, standing to look down at her. “We have to film this movie, Vivian.”

  She lifted her chin, arching one eyebrow. “I know.”

  I nodded once, swallowing hard and turning toward the door.

  Fatal Attraction

  V

  I thought that I’d come so far.

  I thought that I was ready for anything, that I could emotionlessly handle any scene with Keaton despite where, why, or how he was touching me.

  I was wrong.

  Max was intent on filming the love scenes right away per Keaton’s direction. Keaton felt that he would get the most out of the actors and actresses before they really got to know each other, however it became instantly clear that Keaton and I were too familiar with each other.

  Naturally.

  “You like this,” Keaton growled, clenching my hair in his hands as he mounted me from behind. I threw an elbow at him at the sharp pain in my scalp, and he caught my arm, twisting it cruelly behind my back. “Don’t deny it.”

  “You’re a demon,” I cried, meaning it. “You’re hurting me, stop-”

  He flew off me so fas
t that Max groaned. “Cut. Keaton, what the…?”

  Keaton shook his head, running his hand through his hair in frustration. “She said I was hurting her.”

  “I was acting, but you kind of were,” I protested, pulling the bodice of my gown back together. “Just take it easy on my hair, okay?”

  “Okay. Again. One take,” Keaton vowed. I sighed and nodded, turning around to get on my hands and knees on the bed again.

  Max shrugged, returning to the camera. “Okay. Vivian, remember, you give in. You know he has a gentle side. You know he’s only angry because you disobeyed him, and the wolves almost killed you. When he flips you over, give in.”

  “I know,” I managed, clearing my throat nervously.

  What would give in mean? I was wearing this ridiculous padding in my crotch area and Keaton had committed to keeping it as technical as possible, but I’d never done a full sex scene.

  “I want shots from three angles, so I’m going to stop you and start over a couple times, okay?” Max added.

  “Yes,” I nodded, staring down at the sheets.

  “Don’t bother with third angle we talked about- it won’t work,” Keaton added. I exhaled nervously as I felt him on his knees behind me again, his arm slipping around my waist.

  He tugged me against his groin and I cringed, pissed at myself for the instant arousal he always seemed to awaken in me.

  I heard Max say “action” as Keaton’s mouth landed on my neck. He thrust himself against me, gathering handfuls of my skirt to bunch at my lower back.

  “You defied me. Do you know what I’m capable of?” Keaton demanded. “You like this. Don’t deny it.”

  I could feel his hardened erection against my thigh, and I squirmed beneath him.

  “You’re a demon,” I managed.

  He flipped me over so suddenly I shrieked, holding my arms across my face to protect myself.

  Keaton stilled, panting above me. He was in full make-up, his dark face menacing and almost unrecognizable.

  He was truly a beast at that moment.

  “You could have been killed. This castle is surrounded by wolves. They aren’t as kind as I am.”

  “If this is your kindness, I’d rather spend the night in the woods with the wolves,” I delivered my line tearfully, still bracing for whatever he was about to do to me.