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 hell she would say.
***
RIVER
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 screw, 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 hell 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 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 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.
***
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ELIAS
I was working on this piece in the garage, music turned up so loud I could barely think. That was one of the perks with this rental place - I had a garage I could work in, and I'd spent every waking moment since River had left turning this place into a workshop.
It gave me something to be obsessed with.
The problem was, even with this stuff to work on, it was too quiet. Just me and my thoughts.
I was having a hell of a time. And not in a good way.
Me and my thoughts...alone...weren't a good combination lately.
At least I wasn't thinking about Afghanistan. River had fucking replaced those dreams, had set up shop in my head, occupying my brain, her image replaying the horrific ones.
I wasn't sure it was a good thing.
I was so distracted by thoughts of her that I didn't hear the car pull up, or notice when Silas opened the door.
It wasn't until he yelled that I finally jumped. "Shit, Silas!"
I turned down the music, and set down the acetylene torch I was working with, pulled off my welding goggles. "What the hell, man?" I said. "You're like a fucking ghost or something. You ever heard of calling first?"
"Elias," he said. His face was pale. "It's mom."
"I just saw her yesterday," I said. "What's wrong?"
"I've been calling you non-stop for the past hour," he said. "You need to get in the car."
"What's going on?"
"Hurry up," he said, his voice clipped.
"Yeah, let me just go put something clean on," I said.
He shook his head. "Just get in the car, Elias."
"What the hell is going on, Silas?"
"Mom's in the hospital," he said. "I went to see her, found her in the bedroom. She tried to kill herself."
"No," I said, following him to the car.
"Come on," he said. "She's in the hospital. I called Luke. They set a Red Cross message to Killian."
"She was fine yesterday." I couldn't wrap my head around it.
Silas' face looked grim.
***
RIVER
"I'm not finishing the rest of the movie with that asshole." I heard myself yelling, the words coming out more like a screech. "I don't care about my fucking contract. I will press assault charges. There's no way the studio is going to make me finish the movie with him on set."
"No one wants to force the two of you to work together." The suit, one of the team the studio had sent down to pacify me, spoke. "Your feelings are justified. All of us want to put this behind us."
"But what?" I asked. "There's always a but." I didn't trust the studio, whatever bullshit they were about to try to sell me.
"The last thing the studio wants is negative publicity for the film," he said. "And I don't think you want that either, at this point, what with all the media attention you've had recently."
"Is that a threat?" I asked. "It sounds like a threat." That same familiar feeling of panic returned.
He waved dismissively. "Of course not, River," he said, his voice soothing. Patronizing. "But the film is nearly complete. Your scenes are essentially finished. The two that are left to film can be done are minor and can be done with a stand-in. It's possible for the movie to be finished without you even being on set."
"You mean I could be done," I said.
"Finished," he said.
"What's the catch?" I asked.
"No catch," he said. "You're free and clear. Done. There's an additional bonus for early completion."
"Hush money," I said.
He tsk-tsked me. "That's a tawdry way of thinking about it," he said. "It's simply a bonus for being so flexible, willing to complete the film ahead of schedule...and for your understanding of the importance of not drawing any more negative attention to the film."
It was hush money.
My head was spinning. I was done. Free and clear. I could go somewhere else. Do something else. Not this.
Take a vacation.
See the world.
Whatever the hell I wanted to do.
The problem was, the person I really wanted to see didn't want to see me.
"Where do I sign?" I asked.
***
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ELIAS
"Are they going to tell us an
ything?"
Silas shook his head. "They weren't saying anything. That's why I came and got you."
He left the rest of it unspoken. What he really meant to say was that he came and got me in case she died.
"I don't understand it," I said. "She was fine yesterday when I talked to her."
"What did you talk about?" Silas' face was white.
"Nothing," I said. "I swear to God, nothing. I didn't even press her on the property sale. Nothing stressful."
"You had to have said something," Silas said.
"Are you fucking saying it's my fault? I caused this?"
Silas shook his head. "Sorry. No. I'm not. It's just...not something she would do. It doesn't make any sense."
"We talked about the soaps she was watching," I said. "Just like the time before that, and the time before that. Her romance novels she was reading. Her friend Rhonda. Gossip. I don't know. It was all normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. You know how she is."
"She wasn't depressed?"
"No," I said, racking my brain for any sign that something had been off. More off than usual. "I mean, she said dad loved her - not last time, when I sent to see her before- she seemed...wistful, like she was reminiscing."
"Jesus Christ," Silas said. "You don't think she would have killed herself because of the asshole dying, do you?"
"No," I said. Then, less certain. "I don't know."
That was the truth. I didn't know anything anymore.
***
RIVER
"Tonight, we have an exclusive interview with Donna Gilstead, River Andrews' mother, who will open up to us about her upcoming book, Living with River." The entertainment journalist flashed her bright smile at the camera, then turned toward her equally perfect-looking co-host. "It promises to be a very interesting interview, doesn't it, Dave?"
"It does, Samantha," he said. "Particularly since River Andrews has gone radio silent since her split from Viper Gabriel."
"Stay tuned," Samantha said. "Donna Gilstead is next on Entertainment News Lately."
"Shit." I clicked off the remote, my apartment, the new one I'd rented when I'd gotten back here, one with no ties to my past, to Viper, was suddenly silent. It was quiet, too quiet.
Of all the things for my mother to do, this was one of the worst. A tell-all book? I didn't put much past her, but cashing in on my unhappiness was just too much.
I sat there, in the emptiness of my new place, my thoughts churning. And my mind went to cutting. I thought about the cold of the steel blade against my skin, the rush of relief it would bring.
I sat there, frozen, my arms resting on the sides of the armchair, paralyzed with indecision, mulling over the possibilities in my mind.
But I didn't cut. Instead, I called my manager.
"It's River," I said. "I want you to get me an interview with Deborah Ames. I'm ready to go public."
***
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
ELIAS
"What the hell happened?" Killian blew into the waiting area like he owned the fucking place. He was unshaven, boots smeared with grease and dust, jeans torn, wearing a leather jacket and still holding his motorcycle helmet. A couple of the other people waiting moved to the other side of the room, and Killian tossed them a dirty look. Then they up and left. If the circumstances were any different, it would have been funny.
Hell, it was fucking funny. Killian wasn't exactly a slight guy - he was a roughneck and intimidating as hell to most people.
Of course, the four of us together probably were pretty intimidating.
"Glad you're here, man," Silas said, clapping an arm around Killian's back. "Not like this, but still, good to see you."
"You too, shithead," he said.
"You just fly in?" he asked Luke.
Luke nodded, his jaw clenched. Luke was real easy-going, didn't let much get to him - adrenaline junkie, but when he wasn't jumping out of planes or boarding down the side of a mountain, he was pretty mellow. You could always tell when he was upset, though- he clenched his jaw, ground his teeth. When we were kids he cracked one of them, grinding so bad at night. Our father had found out, said he was going to beat his teeth out of him so he wouldn't need the dentist to remove it, and mom had thrown herself on Luke, taken the beating for him.
"Yeah, been here since last night," Luke said.
"Well, give me the details, then," Killian said. "These fucking doctors tell you anything that's going on?"
"She's still in the ICU," I said. "Overdose. Looks like Tylenol and booze."
"She doesn't even drink," Killian said.
I shook my head. "They don't think it was much booze."
"Doesn't make sense," Silas said. "The whole fucking thing doesn't make sense at all."
"What do you mean?" Killian asked.