Elias (New Adult Romance) (West Bend Saints Book 1) (20 page)

 

“Dare to live the life you have dreamed for yourself. Go forward and make your dreams come true.”

 

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

 

 

 

 

"You've been moping around here for the past two weeks now," Silas said.  "Showing up at the bar and shit.  You don't even fucking drink anything, just scare people off with your motherfucking depression."

"Fuck you," I said.  "You're a fucking bouncer.  Scaring people off is a good thing."

"You even going to tell me what she fucking said?" he asked.  "You're so goddamn cryptic about it.  You don't say anything about it.  I have to find out on one of those gossip sites that she even dumped your fucking ass."

"Nothing to tell," I said.  "It happened like you said it would."

"Well, fuck that bitch, then," Silas said.  "I mean, I wouldn't want to look at your ugly mug, but still, fuck her."

"I don't want to fucking talk about it anymore," I said.  "You gone out to mom's lately?  Got anymore conspiracy theories about what's going on in this town?"

"I still fucking maintain that shit wasn't an accident," Silas said.  "But I'm leaving it alone.  If mom whacked the asshole over the head with a rock, more power to her.  He deserved it."

"Glad to hear you're finally being reasonable," I said.  "Now if you can just convince mom to be reasonable."

"About what?"

"I don't know," I said.  "She's got some kind of offer on the land.  Wouldn't show me the paperwork.  I told her she needed to show it to a lawyer, see if it's a fair deal."

"This is what I'm talking about," Silas said.  "He dies, and she gets an offer on the property?"

I sighed.  "They're not related, you moron," I said.  "That developer is trying to buy up lots of property around here, some mining company or shit.  Don't you read the shit they put out- the notices and bullshit?"

"Fuck, no."

"You want to go by mom's this weekend?"  I asked.  "See if maybe you can talk some sense into her, get her to at least consider whatever they're offering her for the property.  I'm worried she's going to miss the opportunity to cash that hellhole in for what she can get, and then she'll have nothing.  I'm sure she's got nothing."

A dark look crossed Silas' face.  "Can't this weekend," he said.

"What, you got some better shit going on?" I asked.  "Don't even try to bullshit me, I already asked Roger and he said you're not bouncing this weekend."

"I just can't," Silas said.  "Mind your own goddamn business, all right?"

"Fine," I said, standing up to leave.  "But see if you can talk some fucking sense into her too.  I'm going to go see her this afternoon.  You're her fucking favorite.  I'm bad cop.  You go play good cop."

"I'll talk to her when I get back," Silas said.

"Good."

I didn't know what the fuck Silas had going on, but whatever it was, it couldn't be good.  He looked like he was burning the candle at both ends, more so the past two weeks.  The skin under his eyes was dark, and he looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

It better not be his fucking conspiracy theories keeping him awake
, I thought.

Of course, I doubted I looked much better either.  Looking at him was like looking in the mirror.

Instead of sleeping, I found myself keeping fucking tabs on River like some kind of celebrity stalker.  At first, I'd tried to ignore everything that went between us, pretend like it never happened.  But then I went home to my new house, the place I was renting, and all the fucking silence got to me. 

I should have gone to stay with my mom, but the thought of going back to that hellhole was too fucking depressing, so I'd rented a place.  And then, with too much time on my hands, I couldn't get my mind off of River, thinking about what she was doing now, what she was wearing, how she smelled...how she tasted when I put my mouth between her legs.

I couldn't get her out of my fucking head.  She'd taken up residence there, and wouldn't let me go.

She was on a movie set, some romantic comedy about a small-town girl and a famous guy.  Ironic, that. 
Small Town Love
was the name of it.  Her movie studio had issued a statement - she was here in West Bend doing in-depth research for her film.

Real fucking in-depth.

I wondered if that's really all it was, between her and me.  Research.

The gossip sites said she'd gotten a new place, cut her mom off financially.  I was pissed as hell at her for leaving like she did, but I couldn't help but feel secretly proud of her for jettisoning her toxic mother from her life.

And then there was the speculation about her recently-divorced costar, apparently one of Hollywood's most eligible bachelors.  They'd been photographed outside the set, his hand on her arm.

If I ever met the guy in person, I'd fucking throttle him.

She hadn't issued a statement about anything.  I wanted to know what the fuck she would say.

 

 

Brandon reached for my hand, covering it with his.  "Why don't you come by tonight," he said.  "You can cry on my shoulder."

I pulled my hand back like I'd been electrocuted.  "I'm not really looking for anything more than friends," I said.  Brandon, my co-star, seemed nice enough at first, all sympathetic after I'd gotten back from West Bend and was just pissed off at having to be on set. 
No offense taken,
he'd said, grinning, when I told him I just didn't have it in me to be here.

He was recently divorced himself, and said he understood the feeling.  Sitting in his trailer right now, though, I was definitely getting a creep vibe from him.

I was regretting going to his trailer to read over lines, and I was regretting talking to him about Elias. Brandon laughed.  "I wasn't suggesting we'd be anything more than friends," he said.  "But friends can still fuck, can't they?

"Thanks but no thanks," I said, turning to leave.  "I'm all right with my lines, actually.  We can read on set."

He smirked.  "What, you only got a thing for guys with one leg now?" he said, reaching for my wrist.  I tried to pull it from his grip, but he squeezed it tightly.

"Let go of my wrist."

"Come on, River," he said.  "Don't be such a bitch.  Viper was right.  He said you were frigid."

"Don't you fucking say shit about me."  I slapped him across the face with my free hand, and watched his expression change to one of rage.

He pushed me up against the wall, and the only thing I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears, my breath short.

"Fuck you, Brandon."  I spit out the words.  "Get the fuck away from me."

Brandon ran his hand over my breast, and I tried to push it away, but he pinned my arms above my head.  "Maybe the problem is you need a real man to warm you up," he said, reaching between my legs.

I struggled, trying to move his hand away with my leg, but he shoved his fingers inside my panties.

"Definitely frigid," he said.  "But I can make you wet."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I screamed, but he covered my mouth with his, forcing his tongue inside mine.

"You like it a little rough too," he whispered.  "That's what Viper said."

There was a knock at the door, and it flew open.  "Roger said River was in here reading lines with -" she stopped, backing up.  "Oh, sorry to interrupt!"

I screamed, this time at the top of my lungs, and Brandon looked stunned for a moment, letting go of me.

The crew member, someone I didn't know, stood there, staring, unmoving.  But her presence was enough.

I kneed Brandon in the balls as hard as I could.  Then I grabbed the nearest thing to me, this vase of flowers on a table, and threw it at his head.

He ducked.  "You bitch," he yelled, doubled over as he lunged for me, still clutching his balls.  "You better be fucking glad that didn't hit me."

The crew member's eyes were wide, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door.

"
He
was the one who fucking assaulted
me
."  My words came in gasps, my breath short.  I couldn't get enough air.

I held her arm, feeling dizzy.

"I don't want to be here," I said, before I collapsed onto the pavement.

 

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