Rage (18 page)

“Stephanie. Why don’t you come back inside?”

“Why don’t you fuck entirely off?”

He stopped. “Why do you insist on being like that?”

She glared sourly at him. “Why do you
insist
on following me? I thought the plan was to avoid each other, Pip! That was a

great idea you had; let’s stick to it.”

It was a completely legitimate point. While he searched for

a response, she turned away and continued toward the water.

“You pick the weirdest times to decide to ‘be there’ for

me.” It was a faint mumble, but he heard her anyhow.

“Whoa!” He shouted and she jumped and spun around. “I

was there for you, sweetheart! I seem to recall you sending me

away!”

She nearly tripped over a rock as she grew closer to the tide.

She stopped and struggled with her shoes, nearly flashing him in her nonexistent dress. “And you never came back. You didn’t

even try. You didn’t answer my calls. I called you and called

you. You were just fucking
gone
.”

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RAGE

“So you turn around and shag Clive Richards a month later?

It’s a good fucking thing you said no to my proposal, Stephanie.

That picture of his would have been worth a lot more to the tab-

loids if we’d been engaged, and I’m sure he would have sold it!”

“Clive Richards!” With an angry screech, Steph threw her

shoes at him, seemingly with all her strength. Fortunately, she

telegraphed her actions so dramatically he deflected them with

the sweep of one arm. “What picture?”

“Of you and Clive. He showed it to me on his cell phone.

I’m surprised it never went viral. It was pretty pornographic.”

“Clive Richards! You have got to be kidding me! That ass-

hole! I wouldn’t touch him with my assistant’s vag.”

The shock and outrage on her face gave him pause. “You

weren’t with Clive backstage in London?”

“Hell yeah, I was with him. I
took his picture
, Phillip. In case you didn’t notice, it’s what I do. But then he started acting like one of your fucking roadies. I punched him so hard in the

crotch. I think I popped a nut!”

Phillip felt like she’d kicked him in the chest. He was

speechless for what seemed like minutes. “You two didn’t

shag?”

Her features twisted indignantly, Steph had backed up all

the way to the surf. The tide rolled in, and the water slammed

into her legs, causing her to cry out in surprise.

“Do I look like a fucking groupie to you?” Steph shouted.

Then she stopped and glanced down at her skimpy wet dress. “I

mean…
usually
.”

Just then, Cheyenne appeared on the scene, closely fol-

lowed by Cedric.

“Come on, Steph. You’re soaked. Scot and I are going back

to the hotel. Come with us.” Cheyenne’s tone was calm and

soothing as she took Steph by the arm and led her away. Steph

was spouting off at the top of her lungs all the way back up to

the stairs about how Phillip thought she was a “groupie whore.”

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TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

He ran his hands through his hair and looked up at the stars. She hadn’t slept with Clive. In fact, she’d caused him bodily harm. A smile crept onto his face. Then he thought about all the unnecessary time he’d missed with Steph due to Clive’s atrocious lie.

The next time they crossed paths, Clive was going to need recon-

structive surgery.

He heard Steph screech and looked up to see the chauffer

he’d attacked holding the door of the Land Rover for Scot,

who’d picked Steph up and was forcing her into the back seat.

As Scot slammed the door, Steph stuck her head out of the win-

dow long enough to shout “Fuck you, Phillip, you fucking fuck!”

He exhaled loudly. As he headed back toward the bar, he

realized Cedric was still on the beach near the stairs. As Phillip headed in his direction, he realized that the priest was glaring at him.

“Something you’d like to say to me, Cedric?” he snapped,

tired of the judgmental scowls he’d been giving him since the

boat ride.

“I really thought you two would be good together. But it’s

very plain that I was mistaken.” He replied. Phillip felt his blood boil all over again.

“I thought we were great together. But she didn’t. She’s the

one who said no.”

Cedric stepped forward, and Phillip braced himself for some

sort of physical blow. Cedric grasped Phillip’s shoulder firmly, his eyes grim. Phillip’s eyes flicked down to Cedric’s hand in

surprise, then back up at the priest.

“She was afraid. Please try to dig a bit deeper for patience.

Losing the baby nearly killed Stephanie. I’ve never seen her that fragile. I hope to God I never do again.”

It took a long moment for those words to sink in. Once he

finally found a context to decipher them, Phillip felt his face contort from a mask of confusion to one of shock. He had no armor

to protect himself from it. An enormous boulder had been lifted

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RAGE

from on top of him, and the cavern it held up had collapsed. He

felt like he was suffocating. He sucked in air as his knees buckled, and he stumbled back, sitting down hard on the bottom step.

As he blinked slowly, searching his surroundings, his eyes

once again rested on Cedric. The priest looked as horrified as

Phillip felt.

“Dear Lord, Phillip. You mean you didn’t know?”

115

Cheyenne leaned her head against Scot’s shoulder as the

Land Rover bounced from side to side making her slightly sea-

sick. Once she was back on the solid streets of London, she’d

never complain about road construction again. Steph sat to her

left, glaring out the window.

“Clive?” She spat, her teeth chattering in her cold wet dress.

“Yep.” Scot responded, his dark eyes ominous by the dash-

board lights. “He told Phillip he’d ‘had you’ right before he got there. He said, ‘Sorry, didn’t know you were coming. Next time

I’ll wait and we can share.’ Phillip went mental and nearly got

himself arrested.”

“And it never occurred to you to mention any of this to

me?” Cheyenne snapped. Scot slowly turned to her. His eyes

shot to Steph, who didn’t even look in their direction.

“And say what? Trash talk Steph? I also didn’t want to be-

tray Phillip. He was completely devastated. Cheyenne, I figured

since you were there, and you hadn’t told me about her ‘back

stage hook up’ that it wasn’t’ something you felt like discuss-

ing.” Scot sounded rational and reasonable and a bit condescend-

ing, like when he told Liam he couldn’t have fudge for breakfast.

Cheyenne felt like she was being handled, and even though it all made sense, it rubbed her the wrong way.

“Phillip was coming to talk to you that night,” Cheyenne of-

fered, unsure how Steph would take the news. Steph turned to

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RAGE

her, obviously chewing over the information. They pulled into

the driveway, and Steph was out of the Rover before the driver

put the vehicle in park.

“Steph, wait!” Cheyenne called and made for the door. Scot

held her arm.

“Just leave her alone. Give her some time to think.”

“She’s had months by herself to think, Scot,” she shot back.

She scrambled out of the Rover and darting a building over,

climbed the stairs to Steph and Kara’s room. She tapped gently

on the door. Kara answered the door looking a bit freaked out

with Liam perched on her hip. She could see Steph rifling

through her suitcase.

“Kara, can you excuse us?” Cheyenne held out her arms for

Liam, never taking her eyes off of Steph. Kara left without a

word. Steph stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

As Steph pulled bobby pins from her upswept hair, Cheyenne

stepped in behind her and leaned against the door.

“Stephanie…we’ve been through a lot of shit together
. A

lot.
And you were there for me when I floundering. Jacking up my career and my private life, and you tried to help. Now I’m

trying to help you.”

“No one can help me.” Steph’s dark reply gave Cheyenne

the chills. She pulled Liam closer to her chest instinctively.

Steph had always had a detached air about her, but after the ba-

by, she’d been bleak and extremely depressed. Cheyenne and

Cedric had staged a private intervention, and though she’d re-

fused professional counseling (“who needs a shrink when I have

the two of you?”), she’d agreed to antidepressants.

“You need to talk to me. I’ll come back when you’re so-

ber.”

Steph scoffed. “That scene on the beach was pretty damn

sobering.”

“Then let’s talk.” Cheyenne gestured with her free hand.

Liam felt like dead weight against her, and she realized he’d fall-117

TAMMY COONS & MICHELLE PACE

en asleep.

“Alright.” Steph murmured, the steam from the hot water

already fogging up the mirror. “Can I get the sand and saltwater off of me first?”

“Sure.” Cheyenne stepped out, and Steph shut the door in

her face. Cheyenne went and lay Liam down on Steph’s bed,

curling up beside him. She stroked his soft cheek and remem-

bered how she used to stare at him for hours when he was a

newborn. It was unimaginable that she’d considered aborting

him as she had. She kissed the top of his head and wandered to

the mini-bar. The look in Steph’s eyes in the bathroom reminded

Cheyenne way too much of Italy. She didn’t even like to think

about that week, but after rushing to Steph’s aid with Cedric tonight, it was bringing it all back.

Scot had been shooting a video and came home looking ra-

ther sheepish. At first Cheyenne had thought he was just tired.

When he had finally raised his eyes to hers, he oozed regret.

“What?” Leery, she wasn’t sure she was ready for him to

answer her.

“Honey…don’t get mad. Please.” Scot started, and Chey-

enne braced herself.

“I need to show you the rough cut of the video.” He contin-

ued. Cheyenne wondered what he’d done in the video that he

was so worried about her seeing. They weren’t even half-way

through the video before she was stalking back and forth across

the room.

“How the hell could you let this happen?” She was shaking,

pissed. and her voice had dropped an octave. Scot looked at the

floor.

“I know.”

Cheyenne pulled out her phone and texted Steph.

Cheyenne:
Where are you?

Stephanie:
Milan.

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RAGE

Cheyenne caught the first flight to Milan. When Stephanie

opened her front door, she gawked at Cheyenne. Cheyenne

gawked back at Steph. She hadn’t seen her since the Toxicity

concert. She looked like she hadn’t showered and was abnormal-

ly pale with dark circles under her eyes. Take-out boxes littered her stunning ultra-modern apartment, and Cheyenne nearly faint-ed when she noticed a grey tabby cat lounging on Steph’s white

couch. To Cheyenne’s surprise, a large canvas of Phillip still

hung over the mantle. Steph picked the cat up and sat down with

it on her lap. Steph had never been remotely interested in ani-

mals. Cheyenne looked over her shoulder as if looking for the

fourth horseman of the apocalypse.

“So…it’s good to see you. Where’s the baby?”

Cheyenne paused. Something was terribly wrong with

Stephanie, and for a moment, she was afraid of making things

worse.

Steph dropped the cat, which scurried away. “Is everything

okay with Liam?”

Cheyenne cleared her throat. She knew things would be

worse if Steph stumbled across the video on her own. “He’s fine.

I have something that you need to see.”

As the video played, Steph’s face turned a deeper shade of

purple. The images of Phillip and the girl who looked too much

like her on the screen seemed to mesmerize her. Her dull eyes

watered, and the hurt and betrayal on her face forced Cheyenne

to look away.

When Cheyenne turned back, Steph was wringing her hands

and shaking her head with a menacing expression. Cheyenne was

sure Steph might vomit, when instead a psychotic chuckle tum-

bled from her lips.

The tirade that followed was legendary even by Steph’s

standards. It culminated with Steph ripping the picture of Phillip off of the wall from over her mantle and flinging it off the side of her terrace on the sixth floor. Cheyenne gasped and bent over the 119