Wrecked (23 page)

She almost ignored it, but then she remembered. With almost savage glee, she thought about goal number two on her list. It involved Roger. Up until a few hours ago, she hadn’t been too concerned about it, but just then, the idea of venting some of that fury inside her sounded really, really good.

“Item number two . . . Tell Roger off.”

Snatching up the phone, she took the call and flipped it over to speaker before dropping it back down in the cup holder.

“What in the hell do you want?” she demanded as she checked the rearview mirror. Shooting over into the fast lane, she edged around a semi and checked the upcoming exits. She had about another twenty minutes before she’d be at the hotel.

Twenty minutes, then she could collapse and cry. In between now and then, she had the welcome distraction of giving her ex an earful.

“Hello, Abigale.”

“I asked you what you wanted,” she said flatly. “I didn’t ask for conversation.”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Roger said, his voice cool and detached. Modulated, even.

She wondered then if she had ever really talked to anybody who could be described as speaking in
modulated
tones. She was pretty certain she hadn’t.

“I’m so delighted you’re concerned about me,” she said, sounding like a bitch and not giving a damn.

“Zach Barnes called . . . he . . . well.” Roger paused, and when he spoke again, his voice wasn’t quite so
modulated
. “He called and asked if I’d heard from you. I’m not sure why he’d think you’d call me, but it had me concerned.”

“I can’t tell you how much I’m touched by your concern.” Something twisted inside her heart even as she sneered a little at Roger’s
concern
. Zach had called
Roger
? She must really have Zach worried if he was calling a shit like Roger. “Oh, I’m just peachy, Rog. Was there something else?”

Seconds ticked away and then he said, “Rog?”

“I’m sorry. Roger. Was there something else,
Roger
?”

“Abigale, are you certain you’re well?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”
I mean, other than the fact that I figured out that I’m in love with my best friend. Then I figured out that he’s in love with me . . . or at least I
thought
he was. Then I see him kissing that bitch, Keelie? Oh, yeah. I’m just fine
.

A near-hysterical laugh rose in her throat, but she swallowed it back down.

“You don’t sound like yourself,” he said, his voice taking on a note of caution.

“Don’t I? I think I sound just like myself, especially when I’m pissed off. But what do you know?” She tapped her fingers on the door, keeping an eye on the speed because the angrier she got, the faster she wanted to drive. “You seem to think you know me when you don’t know jack shit.”

“Abigale, there’s hardly any cause to be rude,” he said. “I was just concerned. I’ll call back when you’re—”

“Don’t bother . . . you know what? I’m actually rather glad you called, because I’ve been meaning to call
you
. I kept getting distracted but there are things I need to say to you and those things need to be said. You’re a fucking moron,
Rog
,” she said, smiling at how good it felt to
say
that. It felt
damn
good, she realized.
Very
damn good. “You don’t know anything about the life you
think
I want . . . a life where I’m up before dawn, where I’d have to starve myself to fit somebody else’s ideal, a life where I’m constantly being judged, where I can’t leave the house without makeup unless I want everybody to think I’m having a personal crisis—”

“Abigale—”

“Shut
up
,” she snarled. “You think that’s the life I miss? How about the two years I had to spend hours getting my hair dyed because it started getting darker and my mom didn’t approve? I hated it but it didn’t matter. Because I didn’t suit my
part
and I had to
change
to fit it. You think I
miss
that? Trying out for every two-bit part that doesn’t suit me just so I can get my name back out there? I know . . . maybe I should have taken that offer to act in a plus-size porno or I can start doing the
Dancing with the Stars
thing even though I’m just as likely to break an ankle as anything else.”

“You’re a serious actress, Abigale. That’s where your heart is. I know you have doubts, but I—”

“I’m not done,” she said quietly. She shot another glance at the mirror, checked her speed, and saw that she was edging up on nearly ninety. Letting up on the gas, she sucked in a deep, steadying breath. “I hated that life. I couldn’t get away from it fast enough but you are determined to push me back into it. What in the hell do you know about where my heart lies?”

He didn’t answer right away, but finally, he asked, “Isn’t there anything about it that you miss, darling? Wasn’t there
anything
about it that made you happy?”

“Don’t call me darling. You gave up that right.”

“You’re avoiding the question. That proves I’m not wrong about this,” he said, triumph coloring his words. “If you’d just stop being so worried, you could go back to it. I’ll be there. I’ll—”

“
You
will be there? First, you’re so wrong about this, it’s sad. And second?
You
are no longer part of my life. Even if for some bizarre reason I
did
go back to that life? My life no longer involves you. As for your question . . .” She didn’t have to think about it. “There’s nothing I
miss
about it. The things that didn’t piss me off I can have whenever I want them or need them. As to what made me happy . . .”

A face flashed through her mind and pain wracked her as she thought about him. Zach. Yeah. He made her happy. He’d
always
made her happy.

“Zach,” she whispered.

“Abigale, I can’t hear you.”

She licked her lips and cleared her throat before she tried again. “You probably don’t want to,
darling
,” she said mockingly. “But you asked if anything about that life made me happy and the answer is yes. It’s Zach. So . . . there you go. And I don’t have to go back to Hollywood to have him.”

She never seemed to notice that I was staring at her when she walked into the room.

“Zach . . .” Anger edged into his voice. “You actually think
he
can make you happy?”

“He already does.” Ice crept through her as she thought about what had happened over the past few hours. But even
aside
from that, Zach had always made her happy.

“You’re not serious about this,” Roger said, his voice cool. “You need somebody at your side who will
support
you. That’s all I ever wanted to do.”

“Support?” She snorted. “I think you just wanted to be along for the ride if I ever
did
go back to Hollywood. You wanted it for yourself . . . not me.”

He waited just a second too long to respond. “That’s insane, Abigale. We were together because we were a good fit. And I just wanted—”

“I don’t care. Whatever
you
wanted wasn’t what was right for me. Now, I think I’ve said everything to you that I needed to say. I don’t think you need to call me anymore,” she said softly. Without waiting for a response, she disconnected the phone.

Then she focused on the road.

There. She’d accomplished the second goal. She still needed to flip off a photographer but once that was done, she’d have done everything on her new
plan
.

The torrid affair . . .

Her throat ached, even thinking about it.

“Not now.” She rubbed her temple. She needed to get off the road, get to the hotel.

Screw the liquor store.

She needed a clear head because she had serious, hard thinking to do.

* * *

“You haven’t seen Abby, have you?”

“Huh?”

Zach shoved a hand through his hair and glared at the clock. It was nearly midnight. Zane lived in Albuquerque. She’d just driven away from his shop in a fury a few hours ago. No. It wasn’t likely that Zane had seen her, but neither had anybody else and he was worried.

Hell, he was so desperate, he’d even called Roger. If he could talk to that asshole, then there was no reason he couldn’t call his brother and wake him up at midnight . . . although . . .

“Hey, why in the hell are you in bed at midnight? You’re a fucking bartender.”

Zane grunted. “Night off and I’m tired. What’s this about Abby? No, I haven’t seen her unless she just up and relocated.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Zach tipped his head back. “I meant have you talked to her. She just . . . hell. I saw her a few hours ago, but . . . we kind of had a fight. I can’t get her to talk to me and I’m worried.”

“Ah . . . shit.” Zane’s voice was low and groggy and a few moments of silence stretched out, as well as a mumbled curse, followed by a grunt. “Fuck. No, I haven’t talked to her. What’s going on? What are you two fighting about?”

With his heart twisting, Zach said, “I don’t want to get into it.”

“Can’t believe you two are fighting already,” Zane said, his sigh coming across the phone loud and clear, and grating on Zach’s nerves.

“Oh, fuck off.” He started to hang up.

“Hell, Zach. Ease up,” Zane said. “Look . . . hell. Okay. I just— I can listen if you need to talk. I’m definitely the best bet if you gotta vent, you know that. Unless you want to give Seb a ring.”

“I’d like to wring his fucking neck.” Blowing out a sigh, Zach leaned against the car and continued to stare up at Abby’s dark, quiet house. He wouldn’t be able to loiter much longer. If he hung around here indefinitely, somebody was likely to call the cops and wouldn’t
that
just cap his night off nicely? He’d thought about going inside, but he didn’t think that was the right way to handle it. Of course, waiting in her driveway like a stalker wasn’t exactly ideal, either, he thought.

“Did you know that . . .” Blood crept up his neck. He could feel it, the red crawl of it, leaving his flesh stinging hot. “Ah. Well.”

“Just get it out, kid,” Zane said, his voice a little clearer now. “I’m having one of those moments where I’m wondering why in the hell I stopped smoking.”

“Because Mom was going to kick your ass if you didn’t after Dad had that cancer scare.” He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “Keelie kissed me.”

Silence dropped like a ten-ton weight, crashing down heavy and destructive, smashing everything into oblivion.

He could hear the call and chirp of the night creatures but nothing else. It was like Zane had even forgotten to breathe.

And then finally, in a low, rough voice, the other man said, “What?”

Something sick moved inside him as he remembered something. Zane chased after hundreds of women, it seemed. Chased them, but it didn’t really matter if he caught them. With Keelie, though . . . with Keelie, it was different.

Now as that sickness spread, he could have kicked his own ass. “Look, I need to—”

“Say that again, Zach,” Zane said quietly. “Just say it again.”

“She kissed me. I’m sorry . . . I think I . . . you got a thing for her, don’t you?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Zane said softly. “What’s going on with Abby?”

“She walked in. I was pulling away and . . .
shit
.” He shoved away from the car and started to pace, fighting to hold the words inside him. He needed to talk, but he couldn’t hurt his brother, either.

“Zach. Just talk okay?” Zane said tiredly. “Maybe I . . . fuck. Screw maybe. Yeah, I thought maybe there was something with Keelie, but I guess it’s not ever going to work out so it doesn’t matter. You and Abby, though . . . that’s a different story. What’s going on there, Zach?”

“She walked in,” Zach said again, an ache spreading through him as he remembered the look on her face. “I was pulling away and I swear, Zane, there isn’t
anything
between me and Keelie. I was pulling away, but I know that’s not how it looked and—”

“You don’t need to explain it to me,” his brother said. “Look, you’re so gone over Abby, there’s no room left inside you for another woman. I
know
that. Anybody with a functioning brain stem should be able to see that, if they bothered to look. Abby excluded because she doesn’t see it. That’s because you always worked
damned
hard not to let her. But you’re not as careful with the rest of the world as you are with her. You don’t hide it and you never hid it from Keelie . . . so why in the hell did she kiss you?”

“She said . . .” He groaned and shoved a hand through his hair, staring down the road like that might make her car magically appear. It didn’t work. It hadn’t worked for the past few hours, but he wasn’t giving up hope. If he just kept watching, if he just kept waiting, if he just kept hoping, that car of hers would show up.

“Keelie . . .” He blew out a ragged breath and then made himself continue. “She’s got this fucked-up idea that she’s in love with me. It’s not real. It can’t be. But—”

“Don’t speak for her, Zach.” Zane sounded even more tired now. Tired. Resigned. “She’s a big girl and I’m pretty sure she knows her feelings better than anybody else does. And again, this isn’t about Keelie . . . or me. I appreciate the concern, but it’s not about that. This is about you and Abby, okay? Let’s keep it about you and Abby. Have you talked to her?”

“No. She won’t answer the damn phone. It’s almost midnight and she’s not home and . . .” He trailed off as his imagination started to supply him with all sorts of nasty scenarios.

“Well, it’s not surprising that she hasn’t called. She’s pissed off. She saw you in a liplock with another girl.”

“I wasn’t kissing her, damn it!” he snarled.

“No.
She
was kissing you . . . and that will count for something, once Abby isn’t so angry, when she gets past the hurt, but for now? She’s hurt. Okay? She needs to get past that. Once she does, it will be okay.”

Zach drove the heel of his hand against his eye socket. “Okay. Shit. It will be okay. Zane, what in the hell does that mean?”

A few seconds ticked by and then Zane said, “It means it will be okay. Look, I’ll call her. Hopefully she can at least let me know she’s fine. You’ll feel better and maybe you can get some sleep and figure out where to go from here.”