Текст книги "Breaking Stars"
Автор книги: J. Sterling
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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Running Away
Paige
My insides felt like they were unraveling, every part of me untwisting and unfurling with abandon. Never in my life had I felt so out of control, so overwhelmed, so…angry.
I screamed into the emptiness of my car as tears of frustration spilled down my cheeks. Pressing the green Call button on my steering wheel, I directed my car to “Dial Quinn.”
The robotic voice announced she was calling Quinn’s mobile, and I fought the urge to pull the car over and head toward Quinn’s house. Shaking my head wildly, I dismissed that idea. This was something I needed to do on my own.
“Quinn.” I sniffed and wiped my face with the back of my hand.
“Paige? What’s wrong?” Her tone was cautious; she obviously immediately knew that I didn’t sound normal or okay.
“I just wanted you to know that I’m losing it,” I said, practically hiccupping as my words came out on a choke mixed with sobs.
“Losing it? Losing what? What’s going on?”
Another long sniff. “I got in a fight with Jayson and Corryn about my future.”
“That’s not surprising.” She breathed out, and my speakers crackled with her exhale.
“They’re trying to force me to do that stupid movie. I put my foot down, Quinn. I said no.”
She let out a whoop of approval. “You said no? That’s my girl!”
“I also flipped Jayson off on my way out the door,” I said, then hiccupped.
“You flipped someone off and I missed it? Damn it, Paige, you can’t do that sort of thing without me. If I didn’t see it, it didn’t happen.”
I managed a choked laugh as I turned onto my street. “I’m pulling into my place. I’ll call you back.”
“Hey!” she shouted. “I’m proud of you.”
I sniffed and sucked in a ragged breath before responding, “Thanks. I’ll talk to you in a bit.” Pressing the red button on my steering wheel to end the call, I pulled into the valet at my apartment.
Stepping into the lobby, I avoided eye contact with everyone I would normally talk to and headed straight toward the elevator doors. My thoughts raced, causing my head to feel like it was spinning off my shoulders. I should be able to decide whether or not I want to make a movie. It should be up to me what I want to do with my life. If I wanted to take a year off and visit the moon, I should be able to do just that. It was my prerogative.
But it’s not. I’m owned.
By my agent, my manager, and my publicist. Directors, producers, and screenwriters who depend on me. The public. And the damned press.
Pressing my back against the elevator wall, I sank to the floor and rested my head on my knees. Squeezing my eyes closed, I let out a few sobs as tears spilled down my legs. When the elevator dinged and came to a jerky stop, I pushed myself up and stumbled down the hallway to my door.
Once inside the confines of my own space, anger replaced all other emotions. I started pacing the hardwood floors, tugging at my hair in frustration. This was ridiculous. All of this was beyond flipping ridiculous.
No one owns me. I’m a person, a soul, a being. I can’t be enslaved to anyone else unless I allow it to happen. If everyone is the boss of me, it’s only because I let them.
That was when I felt it. Something inside me snapped, and if my essence had the ability to make audible sounds, I would have heard the crack. The realization hit me like a runaway train.
I didn’t have to be here.
I could leave.
Get the hell out of Dodge. And Los Angeles.
YES!
This was exactly what I needed!
A madness possessed me as I ran into my bedroom and searched for my oversized travel bag. I started stuffing clothes of all kinds inside it—pants, shorts, sundresses, T-shirts, dress tops—basically anything I could grab. I was laughing like a crazed lunatic as I found more things to toss inside—makeup, face wash, a fistful of bangles, necklaces, and earrings.
Adrenaline coursed through me, making my actions feel justified. I accepted the burst of energy as an indication that I was doing the right thing. It felt good to think of leaving, the very idea so freeing.
My head nodded to no one but my own thoughts as I entered my closet and eyed my shelves of shoes. I settled on five different pairs, all different types for different occasions. I stopped at the small painting between the rows of oak shelving and pulled it away from the wall. A small safe was tucked behind it, and I quickly spun the dial to the right and then to the left. When it clicked open, I reached for the envelope filled with cash that I kept inside, and counted out a few thousand dollars.
I wanted peace in my escape. And that meant no credit cards. My cards could be tracked, and they’d come get me and take me home before I even got away. I would pay in cash and use a fake name. And hopefully no one along the way would rat me out to the highest bidder. Knowing damn well I couldn’t leave town without letting someone know, I dialed Quinn again from my cell.
“So I was just calling to let you know that I’m all right, okay?”
“Okay,” Quinn said warily, her tone slow and questioning.
“I’m going to get out of here for a while. I need to clear my head and think about what I want for once, and I can’t do that while I’m surrounded by everyone who’s trying to think for me.” As I explained, all my thoughts made perfect sense as they spilled from my mouth.
“Where are you going?”
“I have no idea and I don’t care. I need to get away before I completely break down and you all have to check me into a mental institution.”
“Do you really think this is a good idea? It’s not safe for you to travel alone. And I don’t mean because you’re a celebrity, but because you’re a girl,” she cautioned.
I clenched my teeth as I tried to ignore the practicality that Quinn was feeding me. I didn’t want to hear any of that right now. I didn’t want to think about anything that might stop me. For once in my life, I didn’t want to plan every moment; I simply wanted to feel my way through it.
“I have pepper spray.”
“Good. Don’t be afraid to use it.”
“I won’t,” I said, almost convincing myself.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
Waffling for a moment, I almost said yes. “No. This is something I need to do on my own.”
“Are you flying?”
I laughed. “No way. They’ll track my flight, show up there, and ruin my life.”
“Dramatic much?” Quinn laughed. “But you’re right. They will.” She sucked in a breath. “Hey, do me a favor, though, before you go, okay? Just send everyone a quick e-mail letting them know you’re out of town. If you don’t give them some sort of heads-up, they’ll put a freaking APB out on you. They’ll have every town in America searching for you, Paige. You have to at least try to keep the peace, or they’ll make it so you can’t go anywhere without the world knowing.”
My free hand balled into a fist as my nails dug into my palm. “You’re right. Okay. I’ll send an e-mail. And I’ll call you when I get to wherever I’m going.”
“Don’t forget that they can track your cell too. I don’t want you to fall off the grid completely, Paige, but if this is something you really need to do, then I support you.”
“Thank you, Quinn. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Just be safe, please. You’re too damn naive and trusting. Try to be more like me on this trip, okay?”
I could hear the smile in her voice as she gave me advice, knowing full well I could never be as tough as she was. I hung up without even saying good-bye, then opened up an app on my phone and composed an e-mail to my manager, publicist, and agent, making sure I’d copied my family and Quinn.
I’m sending you this e-mail to let you know that I’m all right. I need to get out of town for a little while, so I’ve left. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but please don’t come look for me. Please let me have this time to sort out my thoughts and find my footing. I need to be away from this town, this environment, and everyone in it until I can get my head right. Please understand.
I paused, feeling the desperation in my words, and knew I needed to end this e-mail with strength. Remembering that my agent, manager, and publicist worked for me—and not the other way around—I packed my closing punch.
If you come looking for me, you’ll only make this worse and I’ll stay away longer. Let me contact you when I’m ready, and not the other way around.
Before I could second-guess myself or change my mind, I clicked Send. Nerves fluttered down my spine, but I pretended not to acknowledge them, not wanting to give them any power over me or my actions. Grabbing my packed bag and wad of cash, I headed out the door as quickly as I came in it. If I wasted any more time, they’d show up here and stop me before I could get out of the area code.
After jumping into my car, I drove onto the nearest freeway on-ramp I could find. I knew that this particular road would take me all the way to Florida if I let it. And at that point, I didn’t care. Anywhere would be better than here.
Is It Hot Out Here?
Paige
I’d spent the last few days driving through multiple states, only stopping for gas, food, the bathroom, or sleep. My sporty black BMW did little to help me keep a low profile, so I made sure to tuck my hair up into a baseball hat and wear sunglasses constantly.
So far I’d been able to avoid prying eyes, and no one I’d come across even spared me a second glance. Most people would never think to look for me in their town, not to mention the fact that the majority of people I’d run into probably couldn’t care less about who I was. Consumed with only my own thoughts for company, I felt freer than I had in a long time, as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
My thoughts drifted as I drove aimlessly down a near desolate highway, the sun sinking into the horizon somewhere in my rearview mirror. I had no idea if I was still in Texas or if I’d crossed over into Louisiana at some point, since the landscape was virtually unchanged. Lush green trees and tall grasses filled my view in every direction. Houses were few and far between, separated by acres of farmland.
I enjoyed taking in the scenery around me until his voice came over the radio and filled the empty space inside my car. Slamming the power button off on the stereo, I opted for the blissful sound of silence instead. I’d grown tired of listening to the same songs over and over again. Tired of hearing Colin’s latest hit mock me from my own speakers.
Colin.
My heart ached in the rare moments I allowed myself to think of him and remember that we had shared some good times together. It wasn’t all bad. Actually, it was rarely bad. The majority of our relationship had been happy and filled with understanding. At least, that was what I’d always thought it was.
No.
Colin made a fool out of me and continued to do so to better his public image, and I was determined to hate him for that. Or at least try.
But this wasn’t even about him. Not entirely. Leaving Los Angeles was about so much more than just the public spectacle Colin created when the photos of his cheating hit every media outlet. And even though the public had taken my side, I still felt like a stupid girl. Like I should have known he was a complete cheating scumbag who lacked the ability to keep it in his pants.
But I didn’t. Because I was too trusting. And so in a single moment, ten months of dating was flushed down the toilet and swept out to sea. Being this trusting made it hard for someone like me to stay in control of my own boat in the waters of Hollywood. Somewhere in all this fame and celebrity, I’d completely lost control of my life. I was no longer the captain of my own destiny.
My thoughts drifted to the hotel last night and my mistake at turning on the tiny television. Colin’s face appeared on a sit-down interview on an entertainment show.
“Paige knows this is all a big misunderstanding,” he’d claimed, and my stomach churned.
“The pictures and video look pretty damning, Colin,” the interviewer had said.
Colin nodded. “They do. But you know everything can be faked these days. You know it and Paige knows it.”
“So you’ve talked to her then?”
“Of course I’ve talked to her, Sandy. She’s my girlfriend.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, it’s just that we were under the impression that Paige wasn’t speaking to you, and that you two were definitely over. At least, that’s what we’d heard from one of our sources.”
“Can’t believe everything you hear. You should know that by now.”
“So the pictures were faked, the video was faked, and you and Paige are perfectly fine?”
Colin nodded and grinned. “I didn’t do anything, Sandy. I would never cheat on Paige. She’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”
“Then where is she and why isn’t she speaking out? Our sources say she left town to get away from you.”
I’d flipped the TV off at that point, my desire to shove it from the cabinet and onto the floor growing stronger with each lie that spilled from Colin’s stupid lips. If I was on the fence about what a jerk he was before, I certainly wasn’t after seeing that interview. Dating him had been a mistake to begin with. I knew that now.
After watching everything he’d said during that interview, I knew immediately the only reason he said everything he did was to better his public image. He’d been all but vilified since cheating on me, and he was in damage-control mode. Thankfully, I’d never had to spin lies like that for publicity purposes, but I’d seen it done many times. I knew the attempt to save face when I saw it. It sucked that he pulled me into it and I wasn’t there to defend myself, which was why he probably did it in the first place. A hundred bucks said Colin knew I was off the grid.
When I made the mistake of using a computer in the hotel’s business center, I caught sight of an online report that had the audacity to claim that this was all a publicity stunt coordinated by me since my newest movie was due out later this year. But I didn’t give a damn about the publicity. This wasn’t a stunt. My life wasn’t a press release.
At least, it never used to be. I didn’t even know what it was anymore.
Focusing my thoughts back on the road in front of me, I listened to the sound of each piece of stray gravel crunching and popping as I drove along the deserted highway. It soothed me in an odd sort of way. Searching the recesses of my mind, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been alone like this. The last seven years of my life had been scripted, scheduled, and planned out for me. At first it had all seemed so glamorous, my new life on movie sets around the world, the parties, the money, the lifestyle. But once all my friends from high school started going to college, I started craving what they had. Seeing their pictures on social media filled me with envy, and I longed to have one thing in my life be normal, or relatable to others my own age.
Lost in thought, a sudden hissing sound followed immediately by a hard jerking motion to the right pulled me into the present. I steadied the wheel and guided my now limping BMW to the side of the road. Ungluing myself from the black leather seat, I stepped out of the car as the sweltering humidity almost pushed me right back in.
Wherever I was, it sure was hot. Don’t get me wrong, it was hot in Los Angeles, but it was a dry heat. This felt more like a blanket soaked in warm water and tossed across your shoulders. It wasn’t comforting. And it wasn’t refreshing.
Walking around my car, I noticed the shredded remains of what once was a fully functioning front tire. I crouched down, allowing my fingers to run along the rubbery edges, noting how eerie a tire looks when it was torn apart. The frayed pieces lay on the ground in different shapes and lengths, like a giant had ripped them in a fit of fury. Remembering I no longer had a spare, since I’d already used it and never replaced it, I plopped down with a defeated huff and allowed the hot summer sun to bake my uncovered arms. A light breeze blew past, and I was thankful as my hair moved with it, allowing my back and shoulders to breathe.
In my haste to leave town, I hadn’t really thought this whole thing through. I simply wanted to get away. My entire thought process went something like this: (1) drive, (2) figure the rest out later.
So I wasn’t that great at planning.
My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a loud muffler coming my way. I pushed up from the ground, wiped at the back of my tan shorts, and walked back around the front of the car toward the driver’s seat. A beat-up old green Chevy truck slowed to a stop behind my BMW.
Too late, I realized that my purse was sitting on the passenger seat with my pepper spray tucked safely inside. Not the best place for my only weapon right now. Shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I waited anxiously for the driver to emerge and for my survival instincts to tell me how to react.
The door creaked open and out hopped a freaking god in perfectly worn-in blue jeans and a fitted white shirt. The man was young, not much older than me, with a baseball cap pulled low, nearly covering his eyes. He had a muscular frame that wasn’t overly done, but begged to be noticed.
Forget the pepper spray, I wanted to spray this guy with love potion, or attraction potion, or come-here-and-put-your-lips-on-mine-forever potion.
Whoa.
Where did that come from?
“Afternoon, miss,” he said in a sexy Southern drawl.
I found myself instantly attracted to the sound of his voice. Could you be attracted to something as simple as that? In an industry filled with fakes—fake accents, fake boobs, fake tans, fake hair color, fake personalities, fake everything—when something as genuine as this stood in front of me, I tended to take notice. There was nothing fake about this guy.
“Uh…uh,” I stammered, which surprised me because I was never at a loss for words. “Afternoon.”
As he cocked his head to the side and stared at me, it never occurred to me until that second that he might know who I was. Then he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the notion, and glanced back at my car.
“What seems to be the problem?”
“I got a flat.”
He walked around the front of the car and stopped at the sight of the ruined tire, a frown twisting his perfect lips as he glanced back at me. “This needs to be replaced. Do you have the spare?”
I shook my head. “I don’t. I already used it and never replaced it. Stupid, I know.”
A slight grin appeared before disappearing just as quickly. “I’ll get it towed for you to my shop.”
“You have a shop?” I asked, assuming this guy couldn’t be more than a year older than me.
“It’s my dad’s. I’ll tow it there, but I won’t be able to get you the tire until tomorrow. Do you have someplace to stay or someone you can call?”
“I don’t know anyone here,” I admitted, feeling vulnerable and stupid. “Or even where I am exactly.”
“I’ll drop you off at the local bed and breakfast. It’s the only one in town. And then I’ll come back for your car.”
“Um…” I paused as nervousness surged through my veins. “How do I know you’re not a serial killer or something?”
He gave me a look that was part amusement, part irritation. “Do I look like a serial killer?”
Lord help me if this guy didn’t look like a dang model, but there had been hot murderers before. Ted Bundy had used his good looks to lure women to their deaths.
“I don’t know,” I said slowly, “but how do I know you really own a shop? Do you have a business card?”
“Because serial killers don’t carry business cards, right?” he said, mocking me as he fumbled around inside his truck. “I don’t have any cards because I don’t normally need them in this town, but here’s the paperwork for some parts I just dropped off.” He handed me the paper with the shop’s name and number, and some signatures at the bottom.
“Just please don’t murder me,” I said seriously before walking around to the passenger side of his truck.
“I’ll do my best,” he said dryly.
“Do you think my car’s safe out here?” I glanced back at my pride and joy.
His Holy Hotness looked around at the desolate landscape surrounding us before pinning me with an annoyed glare. “Looks pretty dangerous out here. Better lock it up after you get your things.”
I shook my head, feeling like an idiot. Reaching for my cell phone, I grabbed it and tucked it into my front pocket. Pulling my purse and duffel bag free from the front seat, I tossed my pepper spray in and gripped the handle of it tightly before locking the car doors and hopping into his truck where he waited.
“I’m Paige,” I said as I offered my hand.
He stared at it like it might bite him, as if my hand might literally jump right off of my arm and eat his face. Which was something my lips sort of wanted to do. Then his gaze flicked up to mine before he put the truck into gear and pulled out onto the highway.
“I know who you are. What I don’t know is why on earth you’re all the way out here alone. Are you filming a movie or something?” He chewed on his bottom lip, and I fought off the urge to run my thumb across it.
I shook my head to clear the inappropriate thoughts and wondered who had taken over my body. “No, not filming. I just needed to get away.”
“And you picked here? In the middle of nowhere to get away to?” His voice was thick with sarcasm and something else I couldn’t quite place, but it certainly wasn’t Southern hospitality.
Instantly I turned defensive, a side I rarely showed. “I didn’t pick here. My car got a flat tire, remember?” This guy irked me no end, and I’d known him for all of two seconds. “So do you have a name, or do I get to make one up for you?”
He grunted. “Tatum.”
“Like Channing?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“No,” he snapped back. “Like Montgomery.”
“Oh.” I frowned, unsure which name was his first and which was his last.
As if reading my mind, he said gruffly, “It’s Tatum Montgomery,” his tone beyond annoyed at this point.
I fumbled to recover, and tried to play nice. “I’ve never met anyone with the first name Tatum before.”
“Obviously.”
Wondering why he seemed so angry at me, I asked, “Did I do something wrong? Maybe you didn’t like my last movie or something?” I tried to lighten the mood by cracking a slight smile.
Keeping his focus intensely in front of him, he mumbled, “I don’t watch chick flicks. And I’m named after my grandfather, not that it’s any of your business.”
I sucked in a breath. “You can just let me out here. Give me directions to the bed and breakfast and I’ll walk there.” I didn’t care how good-looking this guy was, I refused to sit in a car with him any longer.
Tatum blew out a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I’m not the best at making small talk.”
“Obviously,” I said tartly, mimicking his earlier response, and he smirked before straightening his face again. “I saw that.”
“You saw nothing,” he replied, but his tone had softened and I relaxed slightly.
We drove in silence through what I assumed was the town. I smiled to myself as we neared a bowling alley with an attached café. The last time I’d been bowling was with my family a few years ago on Christmas Eve. We spent part of the evening competing with each other for top score, but my dad won, just like he always did.
Tatum slowed his truck to a stop, and I looked around to see a grocery mart, the post office, a church, and not much else. A gas station and a mechanic’s shop caught my eye across the street, and I assumed that was where Tatum’s dad worked. It was quite possibly the smallest town I’d ever seen, but it was also maybe the most charming, each building filled with more character than what I was used to.
He picked up speed once the town was behind us and turned right onto another road. As we passed a small school, I asked, “Does everyone go to school in one place?”
He glanced at me, his eyes barely visible beneath the bill of the ball cap. “Yeah. It’s three separate schools, but they’re housed in the same place.”
“I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
“You mean you’ve never seen anything so small and boring?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” I didn’t know how to put my feelings into words, so I stayed silent, not wanting to upset him anymore.
Tatum pulled his beat-up truck to the right once more and turned onto a gravel road lined with green trees and land as far as the eye could see. His speed slowed until he stopped in front of the most charming ranch-style house I’d ever seen. Wooden rocking chairs lined the large porch on each side of the front door. The closest I’d ever seen to a house that looked like this was on a movie set.
There were no homes like this in LA, and I think the sight of it made me swoon. Out loud. Apparently I made a sound when the aged yellow house came into view, because Tatum shot a concerned glance my way.
“This is it. Miss Em rents out the converted barn in the back, and some of the rooms in the main home as well, if she needs to. I know for a fact that all the rooms are available right now,” he added as he turned the truck off and opened the door. His cowboy boots hit the side of the truck with a bang before his feet landed in a pile of mud, sending a splash of the brown goo into the air.
I was definitely not dressed for walking around in mud. Surveying the area around my feet, I looked for the least soggy area and made a jump for it. “So, how do you know so much about the house?” I asked as he headed for the front porch.
“It’s my mama’s,” he said over his shoulder before the screen door slammed shut and he disappeared inside.
His mom’s?
Oh crap.
