Debt Collector

by Weston Parker

  There was no reason for me to go home and pace the floors all damn day. Deza was pissed at me, and rightly so, but I needed someone to talk to, which was always her. She was something like a best friend, mentor, mother, sister, hot-sexy agent to me.

  I smiled at the thought and let memory after memory of us together take me from my worries. The bliss lasted a few minutes more than usual, which was a nice break. Our conversation from the night before doused my arousal in ice water and woke me up from my nice walk down memory lane.

  Not only was I fighting against the shit from the club incident where I was drugged and most likely raped in a coat closet, but now someone was filing suit against me for being their baby-daddy. I couldn't make that shit up. No one could.

  Deza was going to kill me if I didn't get my shit together soon. I might as well pick out my casket, because behaving was a far worse death than dying.

  "Maybe if she'd let me have Riley." I snorted and brushed my hand down my face again, bringing my libido back to life. As if Deza or Frank, or anyone really, had the right to tell me who I could and couldn't have in my life. I gave them that control over me. I always had.

  "Here we are, Sir." The deep voice filled the console of the back seat where I sat, jolting me from my thoughts.

  "Thanks, man." I got out of the car and walked around to the driver's side window. "You take cards?"

  "It'll be charged in to the studio. No worries, Mr. Lewis."

  "No way. They'll have another reason to hang up a noose." I pulled out my wallet. "Sorry about last night. My girlfriend got a little tipsy and we passed out."

  "None of my business." The guy took my card and processed it as I stood in the cool early morning. It was beautiful. Peaceful. Deza chose her house most likely for those effects alone.

  "Thanks." I took my card and turned to walk toward the two-story white brick house.

  "Um, Sir?"

  I glanced back. "Yeah?"

  "Did we need to go get your girlfriend, or...?"

  "No. She's good with my brother." I slipped my hands into my pockets and thought through her reaction to waking up without me. "You know. On the other hand, how about you go back over there and grab her for me? Just take her wherever she wants to go. Bill that to the studio."

  "Yes, Sir." He looked unsure, but rolled up the window and drove back in the direction we came.

  "Shit," I mumbled under my breath and walked languidly to the door. It seemed like someone was always out to strangle me, and usually it was Deza. Now I was adding Riley to the list; however, her being a little pissy was far better than her having her feelings hurt.

  She wouldn't be hurt by me leaving, right?

  "No way." I reached up and knocked on the door before checking my watch. Saturday morning at eight... Deza was an early riser, right?

  The door opened and the look I got from my agent told me quickly that, no, the fuck she wasn't. Her long black hair was disheveled and her eyes swollen. The furry white robe she wore would have been sexy if she didn't look like she'd been crying all night.

  "Um... bad time?" I gave her a cute smile, praying that my usual bullshit would work.

  "What do you want? I'm not in the mood for you, and it's the weekend. This is my only break from you."

  "Your tits look good in that robe?"

  "Ugh. Don't start, Ethan. I give you room to be yourself and now you have a kid coming and your video at the club is viral." She turned and walked back into the house, leaving the door open behind her.

  "Why, yes, I'd love to come in for breakfast. What are you making this morning?" I closed the door behind me and ignored the angry grunt she gave.

  "You're seriously going to be the death of me." She walked into the kitchen and stopped by the coffee pot.

  I moved up behind her and wrapped her in a tight hug before leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "But what a fucking hot death it's going to be."

  "That makes little to no sense."

  "Right." I kissed her again and released her. "Forgive me. A few beers, some bad publicity, an unplanned baby with a chick I don't know and falling in love with my co-star have me a little off center."

  She turned as she poured a cup of coffee. "You're not in love with Riley."

  "That's the one you want to pick on? Of course." I walked to the pantry and got a big bag of Cheetos. "I didn't mean to fuck things up at the club. I was drugged. Remember?"

  "And the girl? Who is she?"

  "Tell me her name and let's see if you can jog my memory, because the last time I squirted in some girl’s snatch was when I turned fifteen." I pulled the bag open and shoved a handful of Cheetos in my mouth as my mood soured.

  "Really?" The scowl on her pretty face said I'd gone too far.

  "What? You don't want to get real? Sounded like you did."

  "Stop being a dick and tell me if you remember sleeping with someone about three months ago."

  I spit Cheetos across the kitchen. "What? Three months? She's three months along?"

  "Yes, and don't say anything that will make me hate you more." She lifted her finger and her eyebrows as I started to respond. "I'm serious. Don't do it. Don't you dare."

  "Whatever." I shoved another big handful of chips into my mouth and moved to sit down at her table as she cleaned up my shit. Poor woman. She was always cleaning up my shit. "I hope they pay you enough to deal with me."

  She glanced up from the floor and shook her head. "You've got this all wrong. I'm not dogging you out here, Ethan. You're like a brother to me. I'm trying to wake you the hell up before you ruin everything we've worked so hard for. This isn't about me or Riley or whoever this baby momma chick is. It's about you."

  "What about me?" I licked at my fingers and got the taste of Riley somewhere along the way. The expression on my face must have changed by Deza's response.

  "Dude. Stop licking your fingers and look at me."

  "I am looking at you. What do you want from me, D? I fucked a girl? I went to a club and got drugged. You just told me that you were going to back the fuck off of me, and yet here you are, all over me like a fly on shit."

  "A fly on shit?" She stood as her eyebrows furrowed.

  "Never mind." I swallowed and got up, leaving the bag of chips on the counter. I couldn't be myself in front of her. She was dealing with all the negative publicity and Darren, her ex, being a cock. She wasn't the Deza that solely focused on me anymore. As messed up as it was... that was the woman I came to see. "I'll see you on Monday."

  "Ethan."

  I walked to the front door, opened it and walked out, ignoring her as she followed me and called after me, until she got obnoxious.

  "Ethan. Dammit. Stop. You don't even have a ride."

  I turned and shrugged as I continued to walk backward down the street. "I'm the great and almighty Ethan-effing-Lewis. I'll get a ride from someone, right? Wait... I'm not allowed to do that. Someone might take a video. Fuck this." I turned and continued down the street, acting like the fifteen-year-old cock I felt like.

  Riley might be upset about me leaving her at Liam's, but it would have been ten times worse for her to have to put up with me in the mood I was in.

  Deza gave up a few seconds later, and I hated myself even more before I turned the corner at the end of her block. She was trying to help me, to protect me, and I was crapping all over her efforts. It was me who was making her life hard.

  "What the hell am I supposed to do? Just sit at home and have the occasional whore over?" I yelled at the air around me. Several people looked up from yard work and stared as I continued to rant until I'd worn myself out.

  Half an hour later, I stopped by a gas station. I had to get a ride. No point in calling anyone who cared to come get me. As far as I was concerned, their care was loaded with their own selfish agendas.

  Fuck that. Maybe a cab would be good.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, tugging me from my train of thought. I pulled it out to see a text from Riley. 'Where are you?'

/>   I glanced around and put the phone back in my pocket without answering her.

  "No clue. I always seem to be lost in one place or the other, baby doll."

  Chapter 3

  Riley

  "Riley. Let me take you home." Liam opened the front door and leaned out. "You don't need to take the limo back. Those things are creepy, right? Who knows how many people have blown their load in the back seat."

  I tilted my head to the side and studied Ethan's brother for a few minutes. I'd grown up thinking that Jace, my best guy friend from childhood, had a horrible mouth, but Liam took the prize for sure.

  "I'm good, but thanks." I moved around him and walked down the front stairs. "Thanks for having us over."

  "Yeah, anytime. Hey..."

  I paused when I reached the bottom stair and glanced back. "Yeah?"

  "Did you and Ethan fuck?"

  "What?" I choked on my own spit. Just when I thought it couldn't get any more awkward...

  "No, I mean, I just wanted to know whether I needed to have the maid clean up the bed up there. It costs me-"

  I lifted my hand and pressed my other hand to my mouth. It wasn't that the thought of sleeping with Ethan was at all repulsing, but having his brother talk about dirty sheets and come-stained limos had my stomach turning again.

  "Hey, just forget that I-"

  I grunted and shook my head.

  He lifted his hands as if in surrender and backed into the house and closed the door.

  "Unbelievable." I swallowed the bile lodged in the top of my throat and turned to walk down to the limo.

  The handsome older gentleman from the night before got out and opened the door for me.

  "Morning, Miss Phillips." He smiled warmly. "Where am I taking you today?"

  I pointed toward the back seat. "You guys clean these seats, right?"

  He gave a soft laugh through his nose. "Of course. Why?"

  "Never mind." I got in the car and rolled my eyes. "I'm in the Wayland Hills apartments."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. This movie thing is my big breakthrough. I haven't adjusted my lifestyle just yet." I gave him a sheepish grin.

  "Oh yeah, of course. None of my business. Just surprised me." He closed the door and got in the car, leaving the privacy window up. I was extremely grateful.

  I let my head fall back and closed my eyes as the car pulled away from the curb. What a messed up night. Where I might have an occasional beer or a shot from time to time, I never drank wine and there was a good reason for it. It left me drunk after a glass or two, which was rarely a good thing.

  Bits and pieces of the night flashed before my closed eyes. Did we have dinner? I couldn't remember eating after helping Liam get the grilled meats on the big white platter he handed me. I'd gone upstairs to find Ethan and he caught me like he did at the funeral home.

  I forced down the sadness that accompanied my visual of my mom's death. I'd have to deal with it soon, but it wasn't happening then.

  "Did we make love?" I whispered and crossed my arms over my chest as I worked through the rest of the events. He held me, put me on the bed and... Nothing. "Damn."

  I pulled out my phone and shot him a quick text to ask where he was. Nothing more. Where I should have been comfortable with him at that point, I wasn't. Maybe if we had slept together I would have been, or maybe I would have been hurt or furious with him for leaving me there.

  It seemed like such a typical move for him. Maybe he wasn't the man I wanted him to be. Maybe the real him was the asshole that left me at his brother's house and ran off with his tail tucked between his legs.

  I got some bad news tonight.

  The memory of his voice racing through my mind caused me to sit up, my eyes to open. He'd gotten bad news. What was it? Deza? His parents?

  Maybe that's why he ran off. I was slightly aggravated at myself for wanting to chalk his actions up to something out of his control, but that's what love did. It made excuse after excuse for the object of affection so that the last thing anyone would have to do is give up the idea of that love, no matter how much of a crock it really was.

  "We're here. You need help with anything else?" The driver's voice filled up the car around me.

  "No. How much do I owe you?" I glanced around for my purse and realized I'd either left it with Liam, at school or at the house. I couldn't remember to save my life.

  "The studio will pick it up. Have a great day, Miss Phillips."

  "Thank you. You too." I got out of the car and walked quickly up toward Charlotte's apartment. I needed to give her a chunk of money and then look at getting my own place, though it seemed like a drag to not have someone to come home to or hang out with.

  I knocked on the door, hoping like hell that someone would be home. I didn't have my purse, which meant no keys either.

  The door opened, and I was a little taken aback to see Jace standing there. He had on a pair of torn up jeans and nothing else. The swell of his chest and shoulders were always welcomed around me. His abs looked good enough to lick, and the dark hair that disappeared into his pants led to a very, very happy place.

  "Hey." I moved into the apartment around him. "What are you doing here? Where's Charlotte?"

  "She's at work. My stupid apartment got condemned last night. I'm staying for a couple of days and then I'll be out of your hair." He closed the door. "Long night?"

  The jealousy in his voice stung me. The last thing in the world I wanted to do was hurt him. We'd been taking care of each other in and out of the bedroom and out of it for the last ten years. He was everything to me before I met Ethan. Funny how that moment changed everything. My determination to not be sucked into the aura of the greatest young actor of my time was a joke. One look and I was lost to the bastard. Everyone was.

  "I had a few glasses of wine and fell asleep on some guy’s bed. Nothing happened." I reached up and put my hair into a ponytail.

  He laughed. "Right."

  "I'm serious." I walked to the kitchen and worked on getting a pot of coffee made.

  "Then why were you on his bed, and better yet, does Ethan know?"

  I glanced over my shoulder. "Ethan was there. It was his brother's house. You're not upset, right? You sound upset."

  "I don't know what I am." Jace ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and shrugged. "One minute you're letting me take care of you more than the usual fuck, and the next... I'm just a friend."

  "You've always been a friend, Jace. We agreed on that a long time ago." I turned and finished my job on the coffee pot before pulling my phone from my pocket. Why I thought there would be a returned response from Ethan was beyond me. The bastard obviously had better things to do than check up on the girl he left stranded at his brother's house.

  "You left ten minutes ago and the needy fucker is already texting you? Could be love." Jace turned and walked toward the living room.

  I ignored the need to return his sarcasm and answered Deza's call instead. "Hey. What's up?"

  "Lots of stuff, but I just wanted to reach out to let you know that Frank has us booked to go down to San Diego on Tuesday. We're going to be filming at the Hotel del Coronado. Do you feel like you're ready to join us, or-"

  "I'm ready."

  "You sure?"

  I shouldn't have been, but I needed a distraction. That, and being closer to Ethan would help me get a better reading on what to make of him leaving me stranded after our second failed attempt at sleeping together.

  "Yeah. I'm more than sure. Where do I need to be and when?"

  "Tuesday morning at seven. Just be up here."

  "I usually train with Clay on Tuesdays."

  Clayton Welms. One of the best Broadway actors I'd ever seen. The man was a legend, and yet Deza had somehow scored him as my acting coach for the next few weeks. Though there was bad blood between him and Ethan, I loved the guy. He was like coming home - warm, thoughtful and comforting to me.

  "Right, so he's coming with us. Just pull him asid
e and have your session there in San Diego on site. I'm sure he's going to reach out to you though. Clayton is extremely professional."

  "Great. I'll see you on Tuesday then." I put my phone back in my pocket and glanced up to find Jace standing at the edge of the kitchen, watching me.

  "Do you love him?"

  "Who? Clayton? No. He's my acting coach." I turned and opened the cabinet above me to get a mug for my coffee. "He's really good looking, but quite a bit older than me, and not really my-"

  "Ethan, Riley. You knew who I was talking about." Jace was much closer from what I could tell. In the past he would have reached out and touched me, but those days were over.

  "I don't know." I turned to face him and took a sip of my coffee. "You want a cup?"

  "No. I want an answer."

  "Why?" I took another drink and put the cup down. "You know I love you."

  "Not the way I want you to."

  "When did this start?" I moved toward him and pressed my hands to his chest. Nothing hurt me more than watching the strong, handsome man in front of me struggle. He was my past and my present. The pain was due to him most likely not being my future.

  "I don't know." He reached out and touched the side of my face. "I guess when you lost your job. Then your mother died, and I just wanted to take care of you. A switch flipped inside of me."

  I wanted to kiss him, to wrap my arms around his narrow waist and lean against him for comfort and warmth, but it would send the wrong message.

  "Then flip it back." I patted his chest and smiled. "I don't need anyone to take care of me." I moved around him and walked toward the living room. "But, if you need me to help take care of you, I have some money. I got paid."

  "I don't want your money, Ri."

  "Then what do you want?" I glanced over my shoulder and nodded toward the kitchen. "Can you grab my coffee for me?"

  He walked into the kitchen and appeared with my coffee. "I want us, but you're moving on with Ethan. I can feel it."

  "I don't know what I'm doing with Ethan." Why was this so damn hard?

  "Well... figure it out. For me?" He handed me the coffee and ran his hand over the back of my hair before walking toward the hall. "I'll support whatever you decide, but don't leave me hanging. That's not the way to treat a friend of any kind, especially not one that's been at your beck and call for ten years."