Текст книги "Child Star: Part 2 "
Автор книги: J. J. McAvoy
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 7 страниц)
Chapter Four
Amelia
“How many times do I have to tell you this?” I groaned, rubbing the side of my head. It had to be at least three in the morning now, and instead of sleeping in my bed, I was sitting in an interrogation room at a Chicago police department.
“So you were looking for the restroom when you entered Mr. Mallory’s study?” asked the officer—Officer Tomato, I had taken to calling him in my head, since his face was bright red and his waist was as round as a globe.
“Ms. London?” he pressed.
“Yes. I entered the study while I was looking for the restroom, because I saw butterflies. He tried to rape me. Look at the marks on my neck. My boyfriend pulled him off me and then beat the shit out of him like a rapist deserves,” I said once again.
“What butterflies?” the officer asked.
Dear Jesus in heaven…
“Ms. London, your lawyer is here.” Another cop, Officer String Bean—not even going to bother explaining—opened the door. In came a woman dressed in a black jacket and jeans, her blonde hair pulled into a ponytail.
“I’m sorry, is my client under arrest?”
“No, but she is a witness—”
“Ms. London, let’s go,” the woman cut him off, motioning for me to get up.
“We aren’t done here!” Officer Tomato said as he rose.
“If my client isn’t under arrest, then we are finished,” she said, pushing me toward the doors. I only made it about two feet before stopping. There was Noah, laying down and looking far more relaxed than he should have been, in a holding cell.
“Noah—” I tried to move to him, but the lawyer I still didn’t know the name of grabbed my arm.
“We can’t stay.”
“I’m fine. I’ll be out in no time.” Noah sat up. Now focused on me, he gave me a half-assed smile, nodding for me to follow her.
“You’re going to need this,” the woman beside me said, digging into her briefcase and pulling out a light jacket and sunglasses.
“Amelia!” Ollie ran up to me as we reached the last set of doors between the jail and the front steps. He patted my shoulders. “Are you alright? What happened?”
“Excuse me. Sorry, but this isn’t the time. We need to get you out before more of the press descends down here,” the lawyer stated.
I put on the sunglasses she gave me, and Ollie took the jacket, lifting it over my head to block me as we started to head out. The moment the door opened, my ears felt like they were going to explode.
Click.
Flash.
“Ms. London, is it true you’re dating Noah Sloan?”
“Is Noah back on drugs again?”
“Is that why he savagely beat Mr. Mallory?”
Flash.
Click.
“What condition is Noah in now?”
They wouldn’t stop and even pushed so close to me that my elbows bumped their cameras. The closer we got to the car, the more we rushed. When the doors opened, I jumped in so quickly my shoe fell off.
“Got it,” Ollie said, motioning for me to move further inside.
When the door slammed, I jumped, glancing up front at the blonde now glaring at me. “Rule one, Ms. London—never, ever, talk to a police officer without your lawyer, especially in Chicago. You would think with the infinite number of cop and lawyer TV shows out there today, you wouldn’t have to tell people this.”
I looked to Ollie, waiting for him to explain who the hell she was.
“Amelia, meet Keri Shaughnessy, your new lawyer.”
“What happened to Old Man Epps?” Since the day I was born, Mr. Epps was my lawyer. He handled all of my contracts and lawsuits against some of the biggest newspapers and media sites across the country.
“He retired three months ago, and I took over his practice. He said you were a no-problem client, and of course the moment you come to me, you pick a fight with Ray fucking Mallory,” she cut in, pissing me off.
“I’m sorry, picking a fight?” She had to be kidding me. “I went to his house, and he tried to rape me! That fact that he got the shit knocked out of him was his fault, not mine.”
“He what?” Ollie grabbed my arm, pulling my attention back to him.
Keri took a deep breath, tilting her head to the side and looking me in the eye. “I’m sorry, Ms. London. I’ve been told I don’t have a filter. What I was trying to say is, Ray Mallory has his hands in a lot of pockets in this city.”
“So what’s going to happen to Noah?”
Neither of them answered my question, so I sat up straighter, looking between them both. “As the person who pays you, I will ask again: what will happen to Noah Sloan?”
“If he’s lucky,” Keri started, and I was getting the feeling that she and I had different definitions of the word ‘lucky,’ “Ray will only drag him through the mud for a little bit before dropping the charges.”
“Who is Noah’s lawyer?” I wondered, already reaching for my phone.
“It doesn’t matter,” Keri said.
“You know, I’m not liking you very much at this moment,” I shot back.
She smiled. “I get that a lot. Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter how good of a lawyer Noah gets. Within the Chicago court system, they’re useless. You thinking otherwise is just naïve.”
Leaning back against the seat, I rubbed the side of my head and tried to think of how the hell everything went so bad so fucking quickly. One moment, we were fine. The next, the world was opening up underneath me.
“Amelia?” Ollie handed me a bottle of water and two tablets of what I could only guess was Advil.
“Thank you,” I muttered, accepting them.
“Amelia, why were you in Mr. Mallory’s study anyway?” Keri questioned, and I froze, my head retracing the steps that had gotten me into this state in reverse.
I was in Ray Malloy’s study because I was looking for a bathroom. The bathroom on the first floor was occupied, just like my mother warned me about, and she told me where to go instead. Why the hell was I in Ray Mallory’s house? Because my mother invited me. And Noah.
No. It was just coincidence. It was all just a series of unfortunate events. I was getting ahead of myself, she wouldn’t…but what wouldn’t a murderer do?
“Amelia!” Ollie shouted as the water battle slipped through from my shaking hand.
Once again, I felt that tug on my heart like someone was trying to pull it from my chest, and my throat began to close.
No matter what, no mother would ever put her daughter in that position, right? She couldn’t be that diabolical…that cold-hearted. Even though I thought that, I still had to hug myself to keep from shaking.
It was her, my head kept saying, even though my heart refused to believe that. It felt like I was being split in half.
It was her. She wanted to separate Noah and I again. She pretended to be okay with it because she had this up her sleeve.
“Amelia, it’s okay,” Ollie whispered, wrapping his arm around me. I didn’t realize I was crying until that very moment. “You’re safe now. It’s okay.”
No, I wasn’t okay or safe.
Just then, it felt like the last thread that connected my mother to me was cut, and there was no mending it.
I hated her—no, it was more than hate.
Noah
“Assault. Aggravated assault with a deadly weapon—”
“Assault with a deadly weapon?” My lawyer, Henry Fordman, sat up just as confused as I was.
“Witnesses claim they saw Mr. Sloan here beating Mr. Mallory with his cane.”
At that, I snickered. Henry’s head shot toward me, internally screaming at me to shut up. However, I couldn’t. This whole thing reeked of absolute bullshit. The police, these so-called witnesses, this prosecutor sitting in front of me with his ugly patterned tie, and even Mr. Mallory his goddamned self—all of it was bullshit.
“Given those witnesses, plus the obvious damages to Mr. Mallory’s face, it would be in your best interest to accept this deal,” the prosecutor said, sliding the paper over to Henry, who glanced down at it and then back up, his face emotionless.
“I wouldn’t allow my dog to agree to this deal,” Henry replied.
“Henry—” the prosecutor began.
“It’s Mr. Fordman, and we have a witness who will testify to the fact that my client was defending her from a vicious attack. So you can take your deal and shove it, because I will see you in court.”
The prosecutor shook his head, rising from the table. “I threw you a bone here, Mr. Fordman, but this isn’t California. You will lose, and you will lose badly. Chicago will eat you alive.”
“Thank you for the warning, but we will still take our chances,” he said, and I simply waved as the guards opened the door for him.
“How bad is this?” I asked him when we were alone.
“Normally, this would have been a breeze. However, this Mallory guy is throwing around a lot of weight. They had me jumping through hoops just to get in here and will most likely not get you a court date until Monday, which means you can’t make bail and will be stuck here over the weekend.”
“Great. Fucking perfect,” I sighed, running my hands through my hair. “What do we do?”
“Right now, I’m going to head over to a board meeting with Midnight Empire Studios…” Henry said.
I couldn’t catch a fucking break.
“They want to kick me off the movie, don’t they?”
He didn’t answer, just packed up his things. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle it. Just keep your head down until I can get you out of here,” Henry reassured me.
It had been less than seven hours since I was arrested, yet I was already all over the news, and the studio wanted me off their movie. This had Esther London written all over it.
I didn’t know how she did it, but there was no doubt in my mind that the snake had struck when I least expected it. But if she thought I was giving up now, she had another thing coming.
“Oh, Ms. London wanted me to pass on a message to you,” Henry said.
Now he brings it up. “What is it?”
“If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? That’s all she said. What did she mean?” He paused, staring at me in confusion.
Smirking, I nodded, but I didn’t reply.
Shall we not revenge? She knew. Even without us speaking, she had already guessed her mother was behind this, and just like in the Merchant of Venice, she would get her pound of flesh.
How or when I wasn’t sure. But I trusted her with my life.
Amelia
I was quaking with rage.
The medicine Ollie had given me in the morning had relaxed me enough that I could fall asleep on the plane ride to New York City. When I awoke, all I could feel was anger. The pain and shock I went through all faded to the wayside. I had two goals now: get Noah out of jail with his reputation intact, and pay my mother back tenfold. I didn’t feel like myself. I felt like a hurricane willing to destroy anything in my path.
“Welcome back to MKLM 97.5. As many of you know, former child star Noah Sloan was arrested last night—”
The driver immediately turned the radio off.
“Put it back,” I said, and his eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “Now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.
“How dumb can he be? He just got cast in this huge, huge movie, and then he goes and attacks one of Chicago’s most beloved old-school cats. He’s an idiot.”
“Is it wrong that I still love him? Yeah, it was shithead move, especially with the timing of Sinners Like Us, but it’s Noah Sloan, bad boy till he dies. When you have that rap, people do try to test your limits though.”
“Come on, Rachel. It’s Ray Mallory—”
“So the old guy could have made the wrong joke! Plus, with him just coming out of rehab, he could have snapped. Not that it’s an excuse, but you gotta know who you’re messing with.”
“All I know is I hope they throw the book at him. I’m sick of all these stars thinking they can do whatever they want.”
“Former child stars are the worst—”
“Turn it off!” I snapped, wanting to reach through the radio and strangle the morons talking as if they knew him, as if they knew anything.
“Ms. London, we are here. I’ve taken the back way,” the driver said. We were back at the hotel, where a last-minute board meeting was taking place. I had heard Ollie talk about it on the phone before I drifted off. Slipping out while he was out dealing with the press, I called for the driver to bring me here personally.
Stepping out, I put my glasses on, checking both ways before walking toward the service elevator.
Resting against the walls, I thought about the speech I wanted to give them. The very fact that they called a meeting so quickly meant they wanted to clean up shop before things got worse. Production was already on a tight schedule as it was. Each day we missed shooting was money coming out of their pockets.
“Hello,” I answered my phone as the doors opened.
“Amelia, where are you?” Ollie asked on the other side of the phone.
“I’m about to walk into a board meeting. I’ll talk to you later,” I said quickly, hanging up before he could reply.
Without knocking, I opened the door to see a whole bunch of older white-haired men dressed in dark suits and sitting around a long wooden table with water and cookies.
“Ms. London? What are you doing here?” Director Zane sat up from the left corner of the table.
“I heard the board was meeting today. I’m guessing this is about Mr. Sloan?”
“Ms. London—”
“Are you or are you not dropping him?”
They didn’t say anything as they glanced at each other and sat up on the edges of their seats.
“It’s very complicated.”
I walked to the front of the table to see them all perfectly. “Fine, I’ll make it simple. If Noah goes, I go, and I promise you, I will not go quietly. After all the work we’ve done it’s ridiculous you would even hold this meeting.”
“Are you threatening us, Ms. London?” One of them snapped at me.
“Take it as risk assessment. You’ll need to redo everything—promotional shoots, studio times, all the scenes, buy out new actors. The amount of money you think you will be saving by not waiting until Monday, will be null and void.” The only person of color in the room, with a fresh buzz cut and brown eyes, stood up in my corner. “Gentlemen, I understand that you wish to be proactive. However, this is still all premature. I promise you I will get Mr. Sloan bail on Monday, and he will be able to get back to work.”
They huffed, a few of them shifting in their seats.
“Zane, I heard rumors that you were having trouble with both of these actors on set?” someone questioned, and all their heads turned toward the director, who was wearing his favorite round violet shades.
“There are always rumors, but honestly, I haven’t worked with a better, more passionate pair of actors in the last decade. I’m sure that when you see the movie you will agree with me,” he replied. For a brief second, I felt nothing but absolute gratitude and pride.
“Fine. We will reconvene on Monday evening,” said the chairman.
“Thank you, gentlemen,” said the man who had spoken up in Noah’s defense. He then focused on me. “Ms. London, can I get a word?”
Nodding, I followed him back into the brightly lit hallway.
“Ms. London, I’m Henry Fordman. We spoke on the phone.” He offered his hand.
“Oh, yes. Did you see Noah this morning? Is he alright?”
“Yeah, alright given the charges against him. You wouldn’t happen to have visible proof of what transpired, would you?”
“I’m sorry, no.” I didn’t have anything but my own testimony.
“No, it’s fine. You’ve already done so much. I might be calling on you again, if that’s alright,” he said.
“Anything you need.”
“Thank you. Let’s hope this get resolved quickly. Excuse me,” he said, digging into the side pocket of his jacket to grab his ringing phone.
When he was gone, I took a deep breath.
Noah still had job. At least he did if we could get him bail by Monday.
I was only an actress. I didn’t understand law, nor was I a genius. However, I had money and a lot of it. I didn’t need to be the smartest person in the room—I just needed to be able to pay them off.
And I knew just who to call.
There was no way in hell I was going to allow my mother, Ray Mallory, or anyone else to keep fucking with Noah. He’d protected me for years, and now I was going to help him no matter what it took.
They were fucking with the wrong goddamn people this time.
Chapter Five
Amelia
Pausing, I glanced down at the unknown number on my screen before answering. “Hello?”
“Amelia, it’s Ray Mallory.” Not only was this man a disgusting pig, he also had no sense of decorum, either.
“I’m just calling to apologize for last night. I obviously had too much to drink.”
“Really? And what is your excuse for the charges against Noah?” I questioned, resting back against the leather seat.
He snickered. “Look, Amelia—”
“Ms. London, we aren’t close.”
“Well, look who grew up.”
“Mr. Mallory, I’m busy at the moment—”
“Amelia, don’t stress too much about Noah. I’m sure this will be cleared up in no time. We were both drinking and—”
“One of you tried to rape me, and other saved me. I’m not sure what else needs to be cleared up here,” I said sternly.
There was pause on the other end.
“I’m not sure what you are talking about. However, I will warn you about baseless accusations against upstanding members of society, Ms. London. You’re aware that this incident happened in my city, in my house. You do not want to make an enemy of me. It would be like a bird trying to fight a lion. A lion will only tolerate it flying around until he smacks it down to Earth with ease. You and your little boyfriend are out of your league.”
“Funny, I think they said that same thing to Jackie Robinson. Anyhow, my main focus right now is helping my boyfriend. I’m sure we’ll be talking again very soon,” I replied, hanging up before I was forced to go through any more of that torture. I’m sure he meant to intimidate with that phone call, but it only pushed me further.
Ring.
Ring.
It was Esther—her twelfth call already, and it wasn’t even 3:00 p.m. yet.
Silencing the phone, I threw it into my purse and watched the scenery pass by me, the New York City yellow taxis lined up near hotels and bars, already waiting desperately for fare. Meanwhile, others either biked or ran by. Most people on the Upper East Side, such as myself, used private cars or the occasional Uber.
“How long are you staying, ma’am?” my driver questioned.
“One day. I’ll be down shortly,” I responded as he pulled to a stop up in front of a tan-colored brick townhouse on the corner of Mayor and 3rd Street.
As I stepped out, a gust of wind scattered my hair. I slipped my hands into the pockets of my fitted gray coat. After pushing open the gate and climbing the stairs, I pressed the doorbell.
“Coming!” I heard a man’s voice yell alongside a dog’s barking. A few seconds later, the door peeled open, and I smiled when he stared at me, perplexed.
“Amelia?”
“Hey there. Mind if I come in?”
He stepped to the side, and the very first thing I saw on his floor was a tall white robotic dog with blue eyes that tilted its head down upon seeing me.
“He recognizes you as friend and wants you to pet him,” Sheldon said from behind me.
“What happened to Rosy?” I asked, placing the palm of my hand on the top of the dog’s head.
“She died three years ago,” he stated, leading me to his living room. It was covered in robotics, wires, and tools. He quickly tried to clean off a seat for me. “Sorry for the mess.”
“No, it’s fine. Your trailer was like this, too, when we were young.” I didn’t sit, instead moving to the fireplace. On either side of it, his walls were littered with degrees.
Master of Science in Robotics Technology
Doctor of Philosophy (Ph.D.) in Robotics
Doctor of Computer Engineering Technology
Master of Technology Software Development
All from, of course, M.I.T, and he was only thirty. Sheldon Worcester was the smartest man I knew.
“What brings you to my neck of the woods?”
“I need your help,” I said turning to face him. His brown eyes were glued to me. It was hard to describe Sheldon because he was always changing. When we were younger, he was truthfully annoying as fuck, always having to prove he knew it all. But as the years went by, he mellowed out slightly. He had wavy, honey brown shoulder-length hair and a short beard over his pronounced jaw that, added to his height, made him looked like he belonged on the cover of GQ.
“You need my help?” he repeated, sitting on the arm of his chair.
Sighing, I nodded. “Noah was arrested.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he scoffed bitterly. “The first time we see each other in what, five years? And you’re here for none other than Noah fucking Sloan.”
Apparently he still wasn’t over the fact that I could never love him the way he wanted me to. Instead, I had told him that I saw him as a brother. After that, we tried to keep in touch, but he told me he couldn’t, not when I saw him that way. He said he would wait for me. That when I got over Noah, to come and find him. I hated doing this to him now, but I had no other choice.
“Don’t think of it as a favor for Noah,” I said.
“But it is. What did I hear this morning? He got arrested after going crazy and beating some big wig—”
“He didn’t go crazy.” At least not in the sense that he was talking about. “That big wig, Ray Mallory, tried to rape me. Noah stopped him before he got that far.”
“He did what?” he said, standing up slowly.
“I’m not sure which ‘he’ you are referring to,” I said.
“You were almost assaulted last night in Chicago, and now you’re here for Noah? Did you even go to the hospital, Amelia?” He reached for me, but I took a step back.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Noah is the one in jail.”
His hand balled into a fist, dropping before it reached me. “If it was self-defense, he’ll get out—”
“If?” I snapped, my eyes narrowing at him. “In all the years you have known me, Sheldon, with all the creeps, stalkers, and perverts I’ve met, have I ever cried wolf when there wasn’t a wolf?”
“Shit, no. I didn’t mean that way,” he backpedaled.
I could feel the headache coming backing. Reaching up, I pressed on my temple.
“Why don’t you sit down—”
“Sheldon,” I cut him off, standing tall again. “I came here because you are the only person I know who can help me with this, as quickly as possible. Apparently Chicago is as corrupt as the movies make it seem. Noah isn’t being treated fairly, because the man he went up against is a Mallory. I always thought Ray was just a former rock star, but what I didn’t know is that he comes from old money. Most of his family are either judges, politicians, or CEOs that make up the Chicago elite. There is a wall around this son of a bitch. He assaulted me, and then had the balls to call me this morning, explaining how I’m out of my league for trying to go up against him. He may be right. But I’m not going to stop trying. I know there is bad blood between you and Noah. I’m sorry I couldn’t love you the way that you loved me, but hope I’m still someone important enough for you to help.”
Reaching up, I wiped away my tears quickly.
“What do you need?” he whispered.
“Thank you,” I said, taking a deep breath.
He nodded, getting up and grabbing his laptop from the coffee table. “I’m guessing you need me to hack into something, but that’s pretty much all I can do.”
“Yes. Everyone has dirt, Ray included. If you can dig it up, I could use it as leverage.”
“Someone like him most likely has a person covering up for him.”
I had thought so, too. But as I said, “Whoever he has is no match for you.”
Noah
Revenge.
It was the plot device for the best works in all of literature. In Shakespeare’s work, he displays the wickedness of revenge, how it blinds the bearer and causes greater misfortune for those seeking it, in the end. Just like in The Merchant of Venice, Hamlet, Richard II, King Lear…the list goes on.
I often wondered what would become of us all if we never sought vengeance? Wouldn’t we all just become victims, cursing our own lives till we died? I couldn’t live that life. There was rage growing within me for every injustice.
Just like this one.
“Lunchtime, Mr. Sloan,” the guard said as he slipped me a tray of what had to be dog food with a cup of Jell-O and a water bottle on the side. He pushed it through the slot so hard that it crashed to the floor in a disgusting mess. “Sorry about that. We ain’t the Four Seasons, so you’ll have to wait until we can whip up something else.”
“Thanks,” I said, picking up the water bottle as it rolled to me. “I appreciate it.”
The guard snickered, his chest puffed up as he walked away, muttering something to the effect of how he almost pitied a poor fuck like me.
I wanted to tell him to keep his pity. Sitting up, I drank slowly, the only words coming to my mind being, “Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind, and makes it fearful and degenerate; Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep.”
The people Amelia and I were turning into…it was their fault, and there was no undoing it.
