Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series (35 page)

Read Between Octobers Bk 1, Savor The Days Series Online

Authors: A.R. Rivera

Tags: #romance, #romantic suspense, #hollywood, #suspense, #tragedy, #family, #hen lit, #actor, #henlit, #rob pattinson

“You have crossed the line, Evan.” The anger
flowed freely as I stomped my feet. “I know you’re only trying to
help, but I don’t see it as helping. It looks like undermining to
me.”

“That’s not what it was at all. I’m on my
way down to the car.”

I wanted to scream. He was leaving for set
and would be busy all day long. “I knew you didn’t have time for
this. Call me later. I love you.”

“I love you, more than you know. I only ever
wanted to do the right thing by Noah and I’m sorry I upset
you.”

“Your definition of right is not the same as
mine.”

After a quick goodbye, I re-played the
conversation in my head. There was something unnerving about the
whole thing. I grabbed my cell from the night stand and texted
him:

-Just so you know, I did not hear an apology
for what you did, only that you’re sorry I’m upset. You don’t have
to agree with me, but you need to respect my methods.

A second later he answered:

-OK. Sorry. Again. Will call when I get the
chance. Too many bodies around.

The day slowly passes while I wait.

Sure, he sent a text or two, letting me know
he couldn’t call, and even had Sheri call a few times to try and
smooth things over. It irritated me all the more. Since when did we
need a go-between?

 

 

March
15
th

We’d been arguing. Evan remained adamant in
his opposition and I was not budging. But I could not let our
disagreement drive a wedge between us.

His hotel room was empty as I kicked my
shoes off by the bathroom door and set them on my carry-on bag. I
couldn’t stay long. I had to be at work the next morning, but it
was a much shorter flight from San Francisco. I was compelled to
come. The phone just wasn’t good enough for the type of
conversation we needed to have. I had some things I needed to say,
and I didn’t want him to take them the wrong way. He could be a bit
dramatic sometimes—getting angry at the drop of a hat—and I did not
want to fight with him. We were both at fault.

Evan and I never gave ourselves an
adjustment period. We were getting to know each other one day, and
the next we were a married couple. Then he had to leave. And the
slippery slope of a blended family was trickier to navigate than I
thought. It was hard for me to know when or where I should allow
him to step in and even more difficult when I disagreed with the
things he wanted to do. I didn’t want to make it any more
complicated for him than it already was, but I couldn’t compromise
my values, either.

The room was a jumbled mess of books,
scripts, laundry, and dirty ashtrays.

Evan didn’t like me picking up after him,
but he never did it, and that left me no choice. I took off my
sweater and rolled up my sleeves. First, I cracked open the door on
the balcony to counter the stifling warmth of the room. Then,
turned on the controlled air. The garbage was overflowing so I tied
up the bags and set them in the hall, stowed his toiletries in the
medicine cabinet and washed out the sink. Next, I hung up the damp
towels and separated the clean clothes from the dirty, placing them
in the plastic dry cleaning bags from in the closet. Clean laundry
got hung up and the dirty was stuffed into my carry-on. When I was
done with that, I sorted his numerous pairs of sneakers and made
the bed. Lastly, straightened up the cluttered pile of books and
scripts on the nightstand, and set them next to his laptop on the
dresser.

As I stepped back to admire a job well done,
my heart sank. I wanted to see him so badly, and when he got back,
we had to talk about Noah. It was a struggle to find a way to be
gentle. As upset as I’d been with his actions, I understood his
motivation came from a good place. But the audacity was offensive.
Anger knotted my stomach while I mulled over what to say.

The lock on the door beeped and the knob
twisted. My heart skipped the moment I saw his unkempt brown hair
peeping around the line of the door. The sight of him soothed me
and I was no longer nervous or upset—well, not enough to care about
anything but holding him.

“Gracie! You’re here?” His eyes bulged in
shock.

I threw my arms around him, practically
shoving him out the door with the force of my excited landing.

“I missed you,” he smelled my hair and neck,
clutching me to him as he made his way in and shut the door behind
us. His eyes were still wide with surprise. “I thought you were
cross with me?”

I shook my head, confirming his suspicions
and ignoring mine. “We’ll talk later.”

He didn’t notice any of the changes to the
room—as he was attentively focused on undressing me. His phone
sounded several times but he ignored that, too. There was nothing
but us.

His hold was tight, molding our forms
together. My breath caught as he whispered in my ear, speaking
words I’d never heard him say; coarse words that felt tender. He
begged me to never leave. My mind swirled, wondering at the intense
change in him.

The air was raw, manifesting in poignant
rhythms that carried me to new heights as the low sound of jazz
carried up from the street below. It added to the ambiance and our
shameless adoration. My pulse raced as I struggled to contain all
he gave.

As he hovered above me, I noted the enormity
of his pupils, dilated in the dark.

An unwelcome knock interrupted us.

Evan jumped from the bed. “Don’t move.” He
smiled wickedly as I covered myself. “I said, ‘don’t move.’” He
yanked the sheet from my hands and tossed it to the floor.

The humorous tone, combined with his
cruel grin, made me laugh. He hopped into a pair of sweats on his
way to the door. Once he was out of sight, I heard the jiggle of
the knob and felt the
whoosh
of controlled air as he greeted, who I guessed was, a friend.
I snatched the corner of the covers between my toes and pulled them
up to my hand, and slid underneath.

“Wait here,” Evan said. Then his voice
sounded closer to me. “I thought I told you to stay still. Am I
going to have to spank you?” The resounding humor made me chuckle.
“Do you have any cash on you?” He peeked under the blanket.

“In my purse; it’s on my bag by the
bathroom.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Because I’m naked.”

He wriggled his eyebrows. “I left him in the
hall and I’m getting rid of him. Right now.”

“Hurry,” I whispered.

A moment later, the covers were gone. Evan
stood at the foot of the bed, yelling. “That’s the last time you
disobey me!”

I was shocked as he took me by the waist,
flung me over his shoulder, and smacked me on the behind before
trotting off to the bathroom. When he hit the lights, I
instinctively squinted, eyes adjusting to the sudden bright. He
pulled back the shower door and set me inside.

“You’re filthy,” he wriggled his brows
again, “I’m going to clean you up.” He turned on the water and
closed the door, leaving me alone in the empty tub. “Turn on the
shower, eh? I’ve gotta piss.”

His call came through the smoky glass while
I watched his misshapen figure open the medicine cabinet. I saw him
hesitate, perhaps, shocked to find something in it? I tested the
water, making the necessary adjustments—Evan liked it hot—and
pulled the small lever on top of the faucet. Icy cold water sprayed
for a brief second before going hot and steamy. Then he was
stirring beside me.

“We’ll have to go to sleep soon. I’ve got to
be there at six.” His hands caressed my sides, working the welcome
warmth of water over me.

As I looked into his waiting eyes, his
pupils were noticeably dilated. No different than they had been in
the dark of his room. Here in the bright light, they should have
shrunk, like mine. I set my finger tips below his bulging eyes.
Though he looked like he could use some rest, he didn’t look
tired.

“What was the money for?”

His eyebrows pulled together. “Hm? Oh yeah,
I borrowed some from Stevie the other day. I meant to get some cash
before he stopped by,” his lips stretched to a grin, “but you
distracted me.”

“Are you tired?”

“I guess,” he shrugged.

“Because your eyelids look like they’re
glued open and your pupils are huge.” He was silent, still moving
his hands along my back. “What did you take?”

“About a hundred, well, whatever you had in
there.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Why don’t you elaborate?” As he spoke, his
eyelids slightly relaxed.

A controlled movement that created a more
natural, relaxed appearance. If I weren’t trained to know what to
look for, to see the subtle signs, if he wasn’t acting so strange,
I may have easily believed him. But I was trained and I did know.
He knew it, too. I studied his face as he stared back. He didn’t
seem nervous. His features painted the epitome of innocence.

“Please, tell me what you took.”

“I would if I knew what you meant.” He was
still gazing, eyes full of love and confusion.

I wanted to hit him but settled for
shoving.

“Where are you going?”

The water turned off as I grabbed my clothes
strewn across the bedroom floor.

“I didn’t come here to be lied to.” The calm
of my voice sounded unnatural, almost indifferent.

“You think I’m lying?”

I could not believe he was carrying on with
the charade. As I turned back to express my shock, he was holding
out a towel for me. I stalked back and snatched it as I passed him,
heading back into the bathroom. He was behind me in a flash,
anxiously watching as I opened the cabinet over the sink.

Scanning the shelves for something that
wasn’t there before, I began to doubt. Maybe he was telling me the
truth. Maybe I was overreacting. Disappointment set in when I saw a
case for contact lenses setting on the bottom shelf, new and out of
place. Evan’s vision was 20/20.

“What’s this?” I grabbed the small case and
opened one side.

He was frozen for a fraction of a second.
“It’s a sleeping pill.”

“Odd place for it, don’t you think?” I
examined the small, blue pill. The oval shape, the line down the
center, the numbers engraved into the top. “This is for narcolepsy.
It’s not going to help you sleep.”

“That’s not what I was told.”

My head filled with hundreds of questions,
none of which I could voice as they were all clouded by tremendous
fury. He was lying to me. I felt it in his cold, quick responses. I
overlooked it momentarily and opened the other side of the
container. A small oblong pill fell into my hand. I could tell
right away, that one really was a sleeping pill.

“Have you taken any of these?”

“What’s that?”

“Tell me!” I stomped my foot.

“Just one,” he closed his eyes and pinched
at his eyebrow.

“The blue or the white?” I assumed the blue,
being that it was an amphetamine and he looked wired.

“A blue one this morning. I told you I can’t
sleep when you’re not with me. If you would stay I wouldn’t have to
take them.”

I tossed the pills into the toilet and the
lens case at him. “Seriously!”

I wanted to curse, tell him how dangerous it
was to take prescription meds, how much it hurt that he would lie
to my face, but my head was spinning. I could barely breathe. The
cool air was stifling. I threw my shirt on without a bra and yanked
my jeans up.

“Don’t do this, Gracie.” He held my arm.

“Get away from me,” I shrieked. The volume
was surprising. My ears buzzed. “I can’t trust you!”

“Yes you can,” he argued. “I love y—”

“Liar!” I picked up my flats and threw the
rest of my things out into the hall.

“You won’t even talk to me?”

I ran into the hall and slipped my feet into
my shoes. “Why should I? All you do is lie. You gave my son condoms
without talking to me. You knew I would hate it! I know you’re on
something—and you lie to my face!”

As I said the words, I felt ashamed. It was
no one’s business what we argued about. Yet there I was, screaming
at him—louder than I ever had—in the middle of the hotel hallway as
he sank into shadows behind the door.

“You can’t leave when you’re angry with
me.”

“I can’t believe you lied to me. I feel like
. . . like I don’t even know who you are.”

His face tore into a devastating expression.
“You know me better than anyone.”

I snatched my things from the floor.
“Knowing about someone is not the same as knowing them.”

He called after me, begged me to stay and
talk, but I had nothing to say and was incapable of listening.

 

I plopped down on
the seat in the terminal. My leg unconsciously shifted,
knocking my carry-on and purse to the floor. Gum wrappers and
makeup pencil shavings scattered amid my receipts and personal
items. Until I saw the mess, I didn’t realize how much trash I’d
accumulated. It was the perfect outward display. My purse was like
me, cluttered and full of crap. I stooped to the floor, shoveling
my junk back into the abyss it spewed from, and came across a round
red ball. Remembering, I picked up Noah’s clown nose, the one I’d
kept from his old Halloween costume. I clutched the foam ball in my
hand and continued with the clean-up. I’d forgotten it was in
there. Originally, I was going to give it back to him, but
something about the silly thing made me feel sentimental. I wanted
to hold onto it.

My phone kept ringing. I ignored it, tears
flowing while I picked up my personal items. The plane ride, though
very short, was going to be long. I was not looking forward to
it.

Before the airline agent called for first
class boarding, I begged to be let on the plane because I was
terrified Evan would show up. The man took pity and let me board. I
thanked him profusely, rushing to my seat in the back.

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