Rogue Beast (The Rourkes, Book 12)

by Kylie Gilmore

  I wipe away tears. “Don’t do me any favors.”

  He steps closer, his tone gentling. “I’m sure you’ll find something soon. Hey, why don’t you come with me since you’re not working at the moment?”

  “They always keep the script and filming locked up tight because of the huge fan base. That means you’re going to be spending all your time on a closed set.” My gut churns, nausea rising in my throat. “You won’t have time for me. Besides, I told my grandmother I’d go home for Thanksgiving and Christmas. So you do your thing. Have fun.”

  “Do you not want me to take this job?” he barks, and I jump, my hand flying to my throat. “Am I supposed to choose to stay here with you and turn down the opportunity that takes me away? I said you could come with me!”

  I seriously feel like I’m going to be sick. “I’m not going with you.”

  “And you’re okay with me taking the job?”

  I breathe in deep, trying to keep the nausea at bay. “Garrett, you already told them yes. What does it matter what I say at this point? You’ve got the fabulous acting career you wanted. Enjoy it.”

  He scowls. “You know what? I thought we were past this bullshit. I thought you trusted me. I thought you loved me.”

  I suck in air. “I do love you.”

  “No,” he snaps. “If you really loved me, you’d support me. You’d be happy when I’m happy and root for me all the way.” He slices a hand through the air. “You’re too tangled up in your own ego and ambition to give me this. You’ll always resent that I have something the camera likes, that an audience will like.”

  “You’re twisting this all around. You’re the one who’s leaving me behind for better things. Just like everyone in my life.” I turn away. “I don’t know why I thought you’d be different.”

  He shifts, standing in front of me. “Maybe I got lucky, having the right look, being at the right place at the right time, but I know I also have good instincts. Everyone says I have huge potential.”

  I press my lips together, fighting tears, and nod.

  “Everyone but you.” He shakes his head. “Life’s hard enough without the person who’s supposed to be closest to you resenting your success.”

  “I don’t resent it. I’m hurt.”

  “Yeah, well, so am I.” He takes a step back. “I don’t want to be with someone who can’t root for me. Goodbye, Harper.”

  I gasp. “What?”

  “It’s over.”

  I can’t find my voice. I’m too shocked.

  He turns and walks out the door.

  I stumble back to the sofa, curl my knees up, and burst into tears. God, could things suck any worse? Here I was worried about my future job prospects and how to keep him in my life, and he just walked out for his own job. It was so easy for him too. He didn’t hesitate, just walked out. Another wrenching sob escapes. Everything that held me back from investing fully in this relationship was peeled away by his warmth and affection, and then he took it all away.

  I lost him.

  Oh God. Why did I say those hurtful things? I should’ve kept my cool. But I couldn’t. Even now, my emotions are overwhelming me, making me feel sick and shaky.

  I slap a hand over my mouth and run to the bathroom to puke up my guts. God, on top of everything else—my job ending, my relationship crumbling, and I’m still sick? I’m falling apart physically and emotionally, and I don’t have the strength to deal with it all. I’m so damn tired. I clean up and stumble to my bed, flopping down on it.

  What is wrong with me? I’ve always been sensitive, my emotions close to the surface, but I’ve never felt so out of control. I don’t even truly believe he used me. Not anymore. I lashed out with all those old fears when I should’ve pulled him in close. That’s all I wanted was for him to stay close. To put us first the way I was trying to do.

  I curl up on my side and let the tears fall. The best part of my life just walked out the door, and I have no idea how to get him back.

  20

  Harper

  It’s Thanksgiving Day, and I’m back in Summerdale at my grandmother’s house. I tried to get in touch with Garrett, but he won’t take my calls or respond to my texts. He’s ghosting me or maybe he’s just caught up in his exciting new work, but he’s going to have to deal with me when he gets home for Christmas because—

  I’m pregnant.

  I found out two weeks ago. I finally went to the doctor because I just didn’t seem to be getting better, and that’s when I got the big news. In hindsight, the symptoms were all there, but I was fooled by the fact that I’d taken an early pregnancy test that came out negative. I’d noticed I was three days late and still hadn’t bounced back from the stomach virus. With the negative results, I’d figured my cycle was just off from being sick.

  Turns out things did get screwed up from my stomach virus. I missed a day of taking the pill when I first got sick, and the next night I took it and then threw it up a few minutes later when Garrett threw up. So two nights without the pill gave my body a brief window of opportunity for conception. I was so caught up in a roller coaster of emotions with the show ending and then Garrett ending us, plus hormones, that, well, it wasn’t easy to think clearly for a while there.

  Now I am. I’m keeping this baby, already very much in love with the life stirring inside me. I’m twenty-eight with the means to care for a child. I’ll do everything I can for Garrett to be part of the baby’s life, even if he doesn’t want to be part of mine. I plan to tell him in person when he returns.

  I still haven’t told anyone. My secret joy is mixed with shame and fear. I was an accidental pregnancy. I swore I would never do that to my child. My grandmother never bothered to disguise her disappointment in my mother. How can I tell her I’ve done the same thing? She’ll judge me, maybe even tell me never to come back the way she told my mother.

  I’ll be a disappointment to my grandmother all over again. The only mother I’ve ever known.

  I blink back tears as I baste the small Cornish hen in the oven. Grandmom is too practical to waste a big turkey on the two of us. I break off part of a roll and chew. Bland food is my friend now, keeping the nausea at bay. I glance over to where she’s sitting at the small Formica-topped kitchen table, peeling potatoes.

  “How’s your Gary?” she asks. “Thought he might come with you today.”

  I turn, my jaw tight. “It’s Garrett.”

  She nods. “That was a reference to Gary Cooper.”

  “He’s in LA filming a movie.”

  She peels more furiously. “I see.”

  I join her at the table. “He broke up with me. I wasn’t too happy with him leaving me for better things, and I said some things I regret. Now he won’t talk to me.”

  “Have I taught you nothing?”

  “I know. Life’s unfair.”

  She gives me a sideways look. “If you regret what you said, you should go to him and say so. Chin up. Use that strength I drilled into you.”

  “I wanted to be here for Thanksgiving with you.”

  “Hogwash.” She picks up another potato, peeling efficiently.

  “I did. You’re getting up there in maturity.”

  She eyes me. “You resent him.”

  I sigh. “I don’t. Not anymore. It was the heat of the moment, and I didn’t know…” I stop myself and stand, not ready to share my big news yet. “I had a lot of stuff going on at the time.”

  She grabs my arm in a tight grip. “I thought he was more than a user.”

  “You did?”

  She looks up at me. “How many young men do chores for their girlfriend’s grandmother? None of your past boyfriends gave me the time of day, let alone offered to do work for me.”

  My eyes sting with hot tears. “I don’t know what to tell you. He doesn’t want to be with me. He left, and I haven’t heard from him since. He doesn’t respond to my calls or texts.”

  “So go to him.”

  “You don’t understand. It’s a closed s
et. He wouldn’t have time for me.” And I’m not ready. I pull away and get the cranberries out, rinsing them at the sink. She doesn’t say another word. My thoughts tumble over each other, replaying the last time I saw Garrett, and all my worries and fears about the future for me and my baby. I can manage on my own if I have to. I know I can. But it won’t be easy. I have to tell him, and I have to tell my grandmother too. No one else needs to know the particulars.

  Once we’re settled for Thanksgiving dinner, my grandmother asks me about my future job prospects.

  “I don’t know. I might have a lead on directing something.” I still need to set up a meeting with Claire Jordan. Hopefully, something will come through. It’s been difficult to think of anything beyond my pregnancy. It was such a shock. And now a secret joy.

  “What about movies? I know you want to do them.”

  “My agent takes care of that. If something comes up I’m right for, he’ll let me know.”

  She sets her fork down and wipes her mouth with a napkin. “So no more Princess Harper, huh?”

  I stare at the table. “No.”

  “Didn’t suit you anyway. You’re much stronger than any wimpy princess flaunting their silly gowns.”

  I’m not so strong. I’m afraid to tell you about the baby. My eyes get hot, and I will myself not to cry. Grandmom could never stand the sight of tears.

  “If you miss him so much, call him.” She jabs her finger toward the phone on the wall. “Go ahead and use my phone. I’ll pay for the long distance.” She must sense I’m near tears if she’s willing to cover the long distance.

  I want to laugh and cry at the same time. As if everything could be fixed with a phone call. He’d probably answer, thinking it was my grandmother, and then hang up on me. I know our next conversation has to be face-to-face. “It’s complicated.”

  She harrumphs. “Doesn’t have to be. Tell him what’s what. You want him back. You can both be actors. The world is big enough for the two of you.”

  I take a deep breath and blurt it out. “The three of us.”

  “What?”

  I look down at my stomach. “I’m pregnant.” I risk a look at her, expecting judgment. Instead she just looks shocked, her hand over her mouth.

  My gut churns. “I know my mother sprang the same news on you in the same stupid accidental way—”

  She drops her hand. “This is nothing like your mom. She was a rebellious teen. You’re nothing like her.” She takes my hand. “I’ll help you raise the child. You’ll stay here.”

  Tears leak out. “I thought you’d be mad or disappointed or something.”

  “Honey, this is a much different situation. You’re mature with a good head on your shoulders. You can handle this. Your mother, well, that was my fault. I failed her.”

  “What?”

  She shakes her head, her lips twisting. “She was the last of my four kids, a surprise baby at forty, and my only girl. I spoiled her, we all did. She became ungrateful and entitled. And when she was a teen, rebellious. We let her think she could do no wrong. But then she did. She got together with an older man she met at a bar, getting in with a fake ID.” She exhales sharply. “When I think of what could’ve happened to her going around bars. Turned out she’d been doing that since she was seventeen. No matter what your grandfather and I did, we couldn’t get her under control. Anyway, your father never knew about you. I tried off and on over the years to track him down based on the information she gave me, and finally found out he died when you were five. That was the year your grandfather died, and I was too caught up in mourning to say anything about it. Ultimately, I decided it was better if you thought he had another family and that’s why he couldn’t be in your life.”

  My jaw drops. “My dad never knew about me?” That’s so much better than thinking he didn’t care. Not that it matters now since he died.

  “I’m sorry, Harper. I did what I thought was best at the time. I should’ve told you the truth.”

  That makes me wonder if she lied about my mom too. “You always said my mom dropped me off after she had me and took off. Is that true? Why wouldn’t she come back to visit? Did you tell her not to?”

  She closes her eyes for a moment, a pained expression on her face. “She planned to give you up for adoption. When I found out, I pressed her for the details. Her plan was to leave you bundled on the doorstep of a childless couple in town. Like a present. Well, I was having none of that. You’re my granddaughter. I told her I’d adopt you and that was the end of it. I was fifty-nine at the time, and my only goal was to stay alive long enough to see you launched into the world. And here we are. Who knew I’d live this long?”

  I stare at her, my mind whirling at all this unexpected news. Everything is so different than I thought it was growing up.

  “I never told her not to visit,” she says. “That was her choice.”

  I nod, my throat tight. After meeting my biological mother briefly when she asked me for money, well, I can’t say I missed out on much. She never loved me, not like my grandmother did.

  I give her a watery smile. “It’s hard to imagine you spoiling your daughter. You’ve always been so strict.”

  She takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. “With you it was only because I was trying not to make the same mistake I made with her. I was tough because I wanted you to be strong and sure of yourself. I wanted you to stand on your own two feet. She got too much outside validation. It made her weak and susceptible to others.”

  I press my lips together. “You were too hard on me.”

  “Because I loved you, dear girl.” Tears shine in her eyes.

  And now I’m crying. “I always felt like I couldn’t live up to your standards. I’m not naturally tough. I’m sensitive.”

  “I saw that in you, and I tried to make you more, to protect you. It seems I screwed up both my daughters.”

  I laugh through my tears. “You did. But I don’t think I could have the job I do now without that strength and toughness, so I guess I owe you a thank-you for that.”

  She gestures me over and hugs me. “I’m sorry I was hard on you. I love you. I know I don’t say it much, but I do.”

  I kiss her papery thin cheek. “I love you too.”

  She pushes me away. “Now eat. You have to keep up your strength for the baby. I’m going to get you some prenatal vitamins, and I want you to make an appointment with a doctor right away.”

  I sniffle and take my seat. “I am taking vitamins, and I already found a doctor.”

  “My girl.” She pats my hand. “You have to tell him, you know.”

  “I know but not yet. When he gets back, I will, face-to-face.”

  “You do what you think is right.”

  I slice a piece of chicken, my appetite returning. “Always do.”

  She laughs. “You’re a lot more like me than you realize. We’re both badass women.”

  My head jerks up. “Grandmom!” She never uses foul language.

  “Own it,” she says.

  I laugh. “Always.”

  Garrett

  I’m back from LA after six weeks and three days away, and I’m man enough to admit it—cutting ties with Harper was a huge mistake. I couldn’t enjoy myself in LA because I missed her too much. I get that she’s sensitive about being used for her celebrity, and I should’ve stuck it out. Instead, my own sensitivity kicked in, making me defensive and cut ties. And for what? Who knows if I’ll get another job again in the movie industry. It depends if the movie takes off, if casting directors like what they saw from me, on so many factors out of my control.

  I don’t kid myself that I’m a great talent like Harper, though my acting coach is pleased with my progress and says if I keep working at it, I can get to a professional level. Right now, let’s face it, I’m mostly eye candy with a bonus of having royal blood. Audiences like that. I’m like a curious exhibit at the zoo, and that’s not something you can build a career on. I guess my own ego got in the way this time.
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br />   Pride held me back from getting in touch with her. Stupid, I know. Now that I’m back home, it feels urgent to see her. It’s Christmas Eve. She’s not home, and she’s not answering my texts. My calls went to voicemail. I can only hope she’s at her grandmother’s house. I want to spend Christmas with her. My family is in Villroy again to celebrate the holidays, and I had to miss it because of my work schedule. I miss everybody, but mostly I miss Harper.

  Only one way to find out. I call her grandmother. She actually called me the day after Thanksgiving to ask when I’d be back because she needed some boxes moved out of the attic. And then she gave me her number so I’d let her know. She must really like me. Harper said she has a handyman on retainer to do any odd jobs her grandmother needs, so it’s not like I’m the only one who could help her move boxes.

  The phone rings five times before she picks up. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Mrs. Ellis. It’s Garrett. I’m back in town. Is Harper with you?”

  “Yes.” The phone sounds muffled. “Harper! Go check the mailbox for me. I’m waiting on some Christmas cards to make sure my cousins haven’t kicked the bucket.”

  I hear Harper muttering something in the background. My love.

  “Ma’am—” I start.

  “Tsk,” she says, then a moment later, “She’s gone to get the mail. How soon can you get here?”

  Hope fires through me. “Hour and a half, two tops.”

  “Okay, I know she’s anxious to visit her friends, but I’ll keep her here for you. She has something to tell you.”

  My mind races. Did she meet someone else? Is she moving to LA for a job? London? “What?”

  “Not for me to say. Now don’t go speeding to get here. I know how to keep the girl busy.”

  “I’m sure you do. Thank you, ma’am.”

  “See you soon but not too soon. Bye.”

  Thankfully, the roads are clear as I ride my Harley to her grandmother’s house. It was too hard to rent a car at the last minute around the holidays, and I don’t like to ride my bike on icy roads. I take this as a good sign. I was meant to get to her today. I really hope it’s not bad news. If she met someone, I’ll win her back. If she’s working thousands of miles away, I’ll visit. As long as we don’t have to completely end.