Blurred Lines (Behind Closed Doors Book 2) (5 page)

Chapter Five

 

It's late Friday afternoon and my fiancé— it's been two months since Wayne proposed and I still love saying that; my fiancé— brings a courier parcel through to the bedroom and drops it on the bed. It's a large parcel, it's heavy and it's the third one I've received this week. The bizarre thing is I've had Mom on the phone these last few weeks. She's acting like nothing happened and we spoke every day for the last three years instead of not at all!

She's sent me a dozen brochures of what appears to be venues and wedding services across the entire state of California. How she's found out these things I have no idea, but she's made it clear that my parents think it's time Wayne and I set a date, and of course the Father of the Bride is paying for it. So I can have whatever I want.

I'm hesitant to open this new parcel. The last thing I want is another hint. I haven't quite got around to telling Wayne the full force of my parents' sudden change of heart. But as I unwrap the new parcel, I realize it's not from my mom after all. This is a square black folder and I'm curious to flick through it. It's a portfolio. It's my portfolio!

The accompanying note says just five words; I was a bitch. Sorry.

I know instantly where it’s come from and I want to wrap my portfolio around her over publicized face and mangle up her too hot to resist girl next door features. Ashleigh!

For three years she's claimed she had no idea what I was talking about whenever Sean has asked her about it. I never thought Ashleigh would lie to Sean. But evidently she has because Sean and I have this perpetual brick wall between us because she had a score to settle with me. Well, isn't she getting her just desserts now?! Karma was a bitch because she hates the idea of press attention the way us mere mortals hate the idea of the plague. But she’s been in the LA gossip columns every weekend since Justin left Mimi.

Honestly, she says they're chalk and cheese but as I flip through a decade of my work my mind won't let me see it. She's exactly like that uppity bitch twin sister who thinks she's better than everyone else and I hope she suffers long and hard because filling column inches dating stars like Dex Leighton is a real hardship, isn't it?

“I thought you'd be happy to get it back.”

Huh? I look up. He's noticed I'm pissed. Well, that must be a first for this week. He's been off his game. He's sullen. He keeps looking at the daily newspaper and tossing it to one side as he mutters. I think it's a work thing. He's usually restless when his job is on his mind. But he can't talk to me about what homicide cases he's investigating.

We're meant to go out for a walk along the beach tonight. I know he's not in the mood but I don't want to talk about Ashleigh either. I'd tried to fix it, hadn't I? I made the first move and called her two months ago. Did she call me back? No. Well she can go to hell. I'm done with worrying about this shit anymore. So instead I'm going to focus on whatever is bugging my future husband. “Are you okay?”

Whenever I ask this type of question and he shrugs I know he isn't going to tell me. “I'm fine.”

“No, you're not.” I close my portfolio and put it to one side. “Please, I hate to see you like this.”

He takes a deep breath through his nose and releases a long sigh before he admits, “I'm just not sure how I feel about Ash being all over the press like this, that's all.”

By this, I'm perplexed. But then it hits me. His ex is dating celebrities and it's like he never existed and that's one helping of a major ego blow dished up and served to my fiancé. He tries to be blasé about it, but what if this was my ex? I think I'd feel a little... okay, a lot like a green eyed monster. “Are you jealous?”

I think it's cute that he frowns at me like I've slapped him on the back of the head for no reason. I've thrown him off balance with the question. But he takes a second to consider it before he shakes his head. He has this tell-tale little boy innocence in his expression when he's genuine. So I believe him. “So what's this really about, Wayne?”

“I wasn't good enough for her, was I?” He sighs. “The reason I was never invited to meet the family is because she's practically royalty over here and has celebrities queuing up to date her. How could I ever compare?”

Wow. I think my heart just shattered into a million pieces. I wish I'd never asked because I didn't need to hear that. I pull away and he instantly reaches for me. I think he knows he's just done irreparable damage. I scramble to my feet. I don't believe it.

“I gave up my life for you.” My voice is nothing more than a gush of air. My lungs grasp for oxygen I'm not taking in anymore. “You're still hung up on her?” I don't believe it. This hurts so much I can't find any more words. It's not the pain though. It's the anger. I can't even look at him. I have to get out of here.

“No, of course I'm not!” Wayne comes after me and that's the problem with our apartment. By stepping out of the bedroom I'm in the kitchen, the living room and the dining area all at once. I can't get away from the fight I've started. “I've just found out in the past few weeks the woman I was dating for six months was a child star. She was one of the hottest stars in the mid-nineties. I was dating someone I had pinned on my bedroom wall when I was seventeen and I had no idea!”

What?

I stop and turn around. Of course he knew. He must have at least suspected something, surely? But then I think back to when she appeared in my dorm room on the first day of college and so didn't look anything like her character from the sitcom she'd just quit. The character had a rock chick blonde hair cut, she was super tall and always wore some form of figure hugging leather or lace. But not Ashleigh. She had chocolate brown hair, barely any makeup and always wore jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt. She went out of her way to blend in and draw as little attention to herself as possible.

She didn't tell me who she was until she turned up at my mom's New Year's Eve party looking like she belonged on the front cover of a magazine I had volunteered at the summer before college. I thought it was obvious. So maybe Wayne hadn't recognized her after all?

“I didn't know who her mom is,” he shouts at me like Ashleigh's lies were my fault. “Her name's not Valentina and she never let me meet them so how was I supposed to connect the dots from 'they're kind of well known.' But it just proves to you, doesn't it? No matter what she said about not being fair to me and wanting to give our relationship a real shot, Ash was just stringing me along. I was never good enough for her.”

How dare he? How can he stand there and say all this stuff about not being adequate when he didn't want her? He wanted me.

“What's wrong, babe?” I hiss. “Have you just realized you picked the wrong friend after all?”

The back of a hand whips across my face so fast I don't see it coming. Pain screams through the side of my cheek as the force throws me back. I hit the wooden floor with a thud.

Did that really just happen?

No. It couldn't have. I close my eyes for a second. When I open them I'm still sat on the floor. My ass is smarting from the shock of landing with a thump. My cheek starts to throb. It did. He'd just hit me!

I have to leave.

I have to get out of here. I scramble to my feet. I need to get somewhere so I can think about what's just happened. I turn my back on whatever he's saying. I'm so confused I can't really hear him. Without so much as looking at him I grab my bag, my keys and I head for the door.

“Jules.” He's quick as he steps around me. He blocks my path.

“Move!”

“Where are you going?”

“Just move!”

“Please.” He grabs my arm and I look at his hand and then at him. He lets go like my eyes have invisible lasers that burn him. “I'm sorry. Please let's talk about this.”

“Get out of my way.”

“It's been hard at work,” he admits in little louder than a whisper. As though that's an excuse for hitting me. It's not. “And I can't talk to you. You know I can't but... I love you. Please don't leave me. I'm sorry.”

“Fucking move!”

I can't believe he hit me. I run out of the apartment and climb into the car so fast. The tires screech against the asphalt as I swing the vehicle backwards from our parking space. There's only one person I know who can make me feel like this really isn't as bad as I think it is. So I drive towards the Valentina's house in Bel Air.

The roads are deserted so the drive should be relatively quick. But my car starts to pull to one side. The wheels feel unbalanced. I pull over and the brand new tire's flat. I check my bag and realize I haven't got my cell phone. Damn it! My palms slam against the steering wheel. I will not cry. But I'm stranded on an empty road... and I don't know how to change a tire. I've never done it before... And my fiancé's just hit me... tears well up in my eyes. This day really sucks!

Out of nowhere a car pulls up behind me. The driver's alone. He's tall, well over six feet and well built. Something about him raises the hairs on my arms. He's got those jaded dark eyes like the e-fit of the Homicide Highway Murderer. My heart rate quickens as I realize that somehow I'm on the highway. “Need a hand?”

Boy his voice is creepy! I shake the thought from my head. My fiancé caught the serial killer and now he's locked up. Wayne caught the murderer and he celebrated by making our engagement official. He bought me a ring and everything! So if this isn't a genuine offer of assistance then the Homicide Highway Murderer has escaped from prison and I'm his next victim, obviously.

“My tire's flat,” I choke on my sobs as I explain, “and I've left my cell at home.” He probably thinks I'm a total freak. Well I am, aren't I? Crying over a flat tire. I mean c'mon, Julia, get a grip! “S'pose I should check the spare.” I lean into the car to get my keys.

A strong hand wraps around my throat. What the fuck? Panic balls in my stomach as my lungs begin to burn. No air is getting past his fingers. I try to remember some of the self-defense moves Ash taught me in college but I'm just too stunned to react and getting weaker by the second. But this guy was locked up! Wayne had caught him.

“Do you know where you are?” he asks in the creepy voice all television and movie villains have. Of course, I know where I am. I'm on Homicide Highway and a flat tire was the murderer's calling card. “Soon, your future husband is going to learn he has the wrong man, Miss Anderson.”

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

 

My head hurts. My ribs hurt. I'm sore in places I didn't know existed. I'm vaguely aware of the people around me but everything just seems a little bit fuzzy. Everything still feels a little woolly. I don't really want to open my eyes. I know it will hurt more the second I do.

I am okay really, a few bumps and bruises...and... and oh yeah, there’s something else... and actually... I'm not okay.

I don't have any more tears left to cry. I want everyone to just go away and leave me alone. But I don't want to be alone. What if he comes back for me? But I know that's crazy. He's locked up. The Homicide Highway Murder is never going to be released from prison. And yet, I still feel the shivers up my spine as though he's watching me lie here, recovering from what he did to me.

“Why is she still sleeping so much?” Maybe I should open my eyes. Wayne's really worried. I can hear it in his voice. “The doctor said she would be okay after a few days.”

I don't think I could sleep anymore anyway. The sleeping pills are wearing off and I just see his face all the time. Those spooky hollow eyes that make me want to scream out loud in the dead of night.

It's just that, right now, I don't want to open my eyes. I don't want to face the reality he's left for me. I don't want to talk to the police again. They made me give thorough statements time and time again. I have no idea how long ago that was. Or how long it's been since Wayne brought me home from the hospital. But now I know I'm taking too long with my recovery. Wayne's on the edge of despair.

“You need to give her some time.” Sean? Why is Sean here? “She needs to rest. This guy really went to town on her before the highway patrol caught him.”

Yeah, I should consider myself super lucky the highway patrol came by when they did but somehow my heart doesn't seem to be getting the message. All I do is cry and I cry for the future we’ll never have and the promises Wayne made to me that he can’t keep anymore. Those future sunset strolls on the beach as we watched our children play in the sand, because there'll be no children for us and that’s my fault. I accepted help from the creepy looking stranger who strangled me and then beat me and was caught fulfilling his sexual needs with my unconscious body. I shudder.

“Julia!” Wayne's callous hand tightens around mine.

“Shush,” I whisper without opening my eyes. “You two can stop worrying about me now. I'm awake.” Even though I don't feel like smiling I show them the upwards tug of my lips. I make an effort for Wayne because I know he's on the edge of despair. “I want a shower and a toothbrush.” I let my eyes flutter open. My first view is not as bad as I think. I can see nothing but the man I love casting a painfully worried and remorseful look down on me. “But first, a kiss from my fiancé would be nice.”

“Julia.” The unexpected breathless gasp drags my eyes toward the door, panic stirring in the pit of my stomach because who else can be here?

Ashleigh shoves two steaming cups at Sean and he winces but she's already left him holding them handle end sticking outwards. She runs towards me. She leaps, her knees bounce on the bed throwing her forward and she wraps her arms around me. “I love you. Please let's never ever fight ever again. Ever!”

A laugh bursts from my lips. It hurts. But she sounds like my best friend from middle school, which conjures up this image of Ashleigh with braids and braces and thick rimmed glasses and a geeky school uniform and I laugh even harder. I don't think she's ever been that unfortunate. “What are you, like five?”

“Yes,” she says with all the seriousness of a fully grown adult as she clings to me. “Promise you'll never scare me like that again.”

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