I Saw You (20 page)

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Authors: Elena M. Reyes

BOOK: I Saw You
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Thirty

 

Ring.

Ring
.

Ring.

“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, eyes bleary and tired. Sunlight filtered in through a small corner of the drapes, just a smidge, but it stung like a motherfucker. As if my eyeballs had been tortured: hurt by the lack of sleep, moisture, and a bucket of sand had been dumped on them.

Why did I drink so much?

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

Motherfucking piece of shit contraption.

Reaching over blindly, I grasped the offending device and accepted the call. “What?”

“Good morning, sunshine.” Arianna’s voice came through the line. I had the same reaction as every other time, and I swelled beneath the white sheets. “Does it hurt?”

“Hey, babe,” I began, and then grimaced. Having a throbbing head and cock were not a good combination. “Can I call you a bit later? Head’s killing me.”

“No.” The malice in her tone caused me to sit up, and the world spun. Son of a bitch. “Don’t have much left to say.”

Rubbing my left temple, I willed the pain to go away. “Slim, none of this shit is making sense, and I feel like shit. Just try and understand…I’ll call you back a bit later.”

“You’re a dick,” she huffed a laugh, though there was no humor behind it. “Really thought you’d get away with it, didn’t you? Complete and utter dumbass.”

“Arianna, not
now
,” I hissed out and regretted it immediately. Exhaling a rough breath, I spoke lower. Tried to control the mounting annoyance this phone call brought. Between that and my pounding head, I was done for. Pissed. “Don’t know what the fuck is going on, but not now.”

The sound of glass shattering against a hard surface was heard a second before she spoke again. “Fuck you, Chester. Lose my number.”

Enough.

What had I done to be woken up this way?

“This is why I don’t do real relationships. Complicated as fuck, woman,” I mumbled, or so I thought. Another glass shattered and then silence, but I could hear her breathing. It reminded me of Ashley’s last night. As if my girl had been crying. “Listen, babe, I got home a couple hours ago, and I’m drunk. Won’t deny it. Cool the attitude, and we’ll talk when I get up,
please.
” Couldn’t stress the last word enough.

“Talking isn’t necessary when I have all the proof I need staring me in the face.”

“Fuck are you talking about?” God, I hurt. Leaning over caused a wave of nausea to hit, and I flopped back on the bed. Those aspirins would have to wait.

“Rock’s. Royal. Couple. Shows. A. United. Front.” Each word was spoken slowly, with venom. Enunciated.  As if each held a special meaning behind it.

I was clueless and grumpy.

“Later, babe. No time right now for riddles.” Then I hung up. Wrong move, and I knew that. I’d pay dearly.

Somewhere in the back of my mind shit was adding up, but it hurt to think, to breathe, and I closed my eyes once more. Just laid there, ignoring the constant ringing of my phone.

I Saw You...

The next time I opened my eyes, it was due to a harsh pounding on my door. Loud, obnoxious, and with the sole purpose of waking my ass up from the dead.

“Whoever’s down there better be dying,” I muttered and rolled over until reaching the edge of my bed. Sitting up this time wasn’t as bad as the last time, when…

Fuck. Slim was going to kill me.

Again, the pounding began. Desperation, or was it anger that drove the person outside to try and demolish the wooden structure they were abusing. Assholes.

“Coming.” Wasn’t loud enough, so I reached over to look at the front door’s camera through my phone. After Ashley walked in while Arianna was here, I thought it best to ramp up security.

Twenty calls.

Fifteen voice messages.

Fifty-six texts.

What the fuck happened?

Ignoring the hungover protest from my body, I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and stood. While the world didn’t spin this time, it shifted.

The doorbell rung, and my phone vibrated in my hands. My sister and mother were outside. Shit. Double shit for the state I was in.

“Chester, open this freaking door,” Heather fumed from the other side of the door. In her hand she held what looked to be magazines. “Swear I’ll break it down.”

Swiping my finger across the screen and past all the notifications, I pressed on the intercom. “Give me five minutes, sis,” I croaked, then cleared my throat. “I’ll be right down.”

“Hurry—” Didn’t let her finish.

Instead, I zombie walked myself across the room and into the bathroom. Splashed water on my face and sighed. It felt good. Beside me on the counter the phone buzzed, and a picture of Ashley and me flashed across the screen.

Too early.

Too hungover to talk, I hit ignore and brushed my teeth instead.

On my way out the room, I heard the unmistakable sound of the door being kicked. My current mood was shit, and Heather’s crap was making it worse.

“Going!” I yelled out and then paused at the bottom of the step. I needed to get an aspirin into me, and quick. My stomach rumbled, and I also remembered it’d been about twenty-four hours since I’d eaten. The last thing I ate was around this time yesterday when my girl sent breakfast over to the studio. “Shit,” I cringed and looked at my phone. Scrolled through the missed calls, and not one was from her.

It stung.

Just the one call where I’d hung up.

All because I was a semi-drunken prick who didn’t want to deal with an upset girlfriend.

Opening the door, I was faced with two very pissed off women. “Come in,” I hedged and moved out of their way. Mom walked in without saying a word, while Heather shoulder checked me in her ridiculous high heels. Almost toppled herself over.

No one spoke while we made our way into the kitchen. Two barstools were pulled out from beneath my island, a synchronized act. A small hop, legs crossed and arms folded across their chest. They eyed me shrewdly. Not a peep from either, just watched while the sweat began to form on my forehead and I grew agitated.

“Why are you here?” Didn’t mean for it to come out so gruff, but it did. An annoyed grunt which, by the purse of my mother’s lips, she didn’t appreciate. “Sorry, Mom, but with the death glares being sent my way, what did you expect? A welcome wagon?”

“You’re an idiot, son,” she deadpanned before looking over at my sister and nodding. “Show him.”

“Show me what? Fuck’s going on?” It was more than obvious now that my day had gone to shit. Fucking Murphy’s Law; everything that could go wrong will. Turning her way, I set my glower on her. “Talk.”

“Read.” Rolling her eyes, she pushed what looked to be printed tabloid news in front of me. Same popular sites that paid people like the asshole taking me to court big money to follow celebrities.

Then it clicked, and my brows furrowed. “Is this about the pap trying to sue me?” Giving them my back, I turned the coffeemaker on and opened the cabinet above for mugs. Reaching in, I pulled mine out and paused. “You guys want coffee?”

The loud thwack that followed had me dropping my cup to the floor where it shattered. Something else to add to the list of
crap
that’d pissed me off today. Was my favorite mug, too.

Heather was breathing hard, nostrils flaring, while my mother shook her head. “Read.”

“Watch yourself, sis,” I finally snapped, pointing a finger at her. “My patience is running thin. Not in the goddamned mood for your shit. Have something to say, spit it out already, or get the fuck out.”

“Chester!” my mother chided, but I’d had enough. People needed to get off my back. My situation with Ash and Slim was more than I wanted to bear. “Don’t speak to your sister that way. We’re here to help—”

“Or meddle?” She didn’t like my interruption and perceptive truth. “Why don’t we talk about you and my producer instead? Huh? When were you going to tell me?”

Her face softened, and a small smile played on her lips. “Today. Now.”

“Is that why you are here, then?” Mom shook her head while Heather tapped her fingers on the marble countertop. “Okay, but we will revisit that topic. Understood.”

“At dinner on Thursday sound good?” she asked.

“Invite him over and I’ll be there.”

“Can we get back to the shit that matters here? How he screwed up with Arianna?” My head snapped back so fast toward my sister that the resounding crack was heard. Loud and clear.

“What did you just say? Screwed up?”

Heather’s face softened, and the ire from before vanished all together. “You don’t know, do you?”

Shaking my head, I walked around the island and grabbed the papers her eyes kept flicking to.
Fuck. Double
,
fuck.

Had this been what she’d been talking about? What stared back at me was incriminating. No doubt or argument from me, but nothing happened. Slim had to know that I’d never…

Rock’s royal couple shows a united front.

That was the headline spread across three of the biggest entertainment news websites. Below the headline was a picture of Ashley and me, in various stages throughout the night.

In the hallway facing each other and talking intimately.

Her in my arms with my lips pressed to her head.

How I carried her out of the hall and toward the bar over my shoulder.

Sources claiming to have witnessed our intimate touches and kisses.

They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. Completely in love.

“Nothing happened,” I hissed out between clenched teeth, body shaking with rage. Sheets of spewed garbage clenched tight in my fist, I placed both hands atop the granite and hung my head down. “Everyone met there last night…they…fuck, I never have.”

“Big brother, it doesn’t look that way.” Heather wrapped her small arms around my waist while I tried to calm down. I had to talk to Arianna and explain. Shit looked bad, but like everything else in Hollywood, it was staged to seem that way.

“I’ll be back.” Pushing off the counter, I stepped out of my sister’s embrace and faced mom. “Need to make a phone call. Make yourselves at home.”

“You love her.” Not a question, but an astute observation from my mother.

“Getting there.” No point in lying when it was more than likely written all over my face.

“Go make it right, son. We’ll cook an early dinner and catch up…seems there’s a lot to celebrate.”

Celebrate or mourn. Slim wouldn’t be convinced so easily this time.

My foot had not touched the stairs’ first landing when I pressed her name on my phone. “Pick up, babe,” I muttered low, a mantra or hope—willed for her to listen. Three rings and then her voicemail. I didn’t expect any different. “Come on, dammit.” Once upstairs, I walked through my room and into the small balcony that overlooked my pool.

Again, I called. Same result.

Every time the answering machine advised me on what to do, I’d hang up and start all over again.

“Give her a few minutes and use mine.” Heather kneeled in front of where I’d taken a seat. Gone was the anger from earlier. In its place was understanding and patience. “It still has the Arizona area code…too lazy to call the company and have them change it.”

“Thanks.” Any other time I would’ve laughed at her admission to having sloth-like behavior, but not now. Instead, I asked the one question that’d been sitting on the tip of my tongue since she came in all bitchy and demanding. “Still don’t understand why you’re getting involved.”

“Why?” Laying her forehead against my own, she smiled. “Because my larger than life brother found the one thing he needed….his Slim. His other half. And while I know you don’t believe in soul mates and fairy tales, I do. With her, if the way you’ve been these past months is anything to go by, you could come pretty fucking close to having it all.”

“Just wish all this would be simpler. It’s not fair to us.”

“Then make it so. You and Ashley need to rip that fucking Band-Aid off and move on. It’s not real and shouldn’t be made into a huge production. The need for her to play a part that doesn’t belong to her is over.” Kissing my cheek, she stood back up and ruffled my still semi-styled hair. “Call your girl and make it right.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too, butt face.” She was out of my room and rushing down the stairs before I could react. Brat.

Punching Ari’s number in, I let out a long exhale. “Dammit, pick—”

“Hello?”

Thirty One

 

“Hello?”

“Slim, I…shit.”

“What are you doing in Arizona?” Her tone was monotone, sounded almost bored.

“It’s my sister’s phone. You wouldn’t pick up—”

“And that didn’t clue you into the fact that I didn’t want to talk? What part of ‘lose my number’ didn’t you quite understand?” Slim laughed, the sound fake. “Or is that your norm? Acting stupid on purpose is your thing?”

Didn’t that shit sound familiar—was something I told one of my boys in the past. Stupidity in the world ran deep; problem was that people ignored reality and did as they pleased anyways. Not caring who they hurt.

That wasn’t me.

Never would be.

“All I want is a few minutes to explain, babe. Not everything is as it seems.” Agitation settling in once more, I grew angry. My voice carried that ire through the phone in the harsh tone of my voice. “Why are you acting like this? Fuck, Slim, you knew we were together.”

“No, I didn’t. Not like that…you embarrassed me. I’m the idiot that fell for the ‘we are just friends’ bullshit.” The crack in her voice at the end made me pause. Was she implying that I was fucking them both?

“Are you calling me a liar? That I slept with you while, in your words, I’m with her?” The realization that she thought I cheated made me see red. My attitude turned sour. “This bullshit right here was why I avoided relationships like the plague. Women are too much work.”

“So you said earlier,” she spat, “yet you come looking for me again. Why? Are you a masochist?”

“Don’t misunderstand—”

“Fear was always there, you know,” Slim continued, both interrupting and ignoring what I was trying to say. “Your arrangement with her makes no sense.”

“Dammit, Ari,” I hissed into the phone, the plastic in my hand protesting under the crushing hold I held it in. “I. Don’t. Cheat.”

“Enough…” she paused and took in a deep breath, a small sniffle coming through the line “…hearing it was one thing, but the truth hurts more when it smacks you in the face. When you wake up to your phone ringing and the person on the other side tells you to get your computer. My fucking best friend calling me at the ass crack of dawn, worried about me, trying to open my eyes.”

“We talked about this while you were here. You knew that I had to maintain a certain public image with her…now more than ever.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She huffed; the sound of keys tapping was heard. With the three-hour difference, I could surmise that she was at the club this afternoon working, trying to put me out of her mind.

I’d never allow that.

“I’m being sued.”

“And?” Didn’t ask the why. No, she said “and.” In other words, “I don’t care.”

“Is that all you’re going to say? And?” Getting up from my seat, I walked the few steps over to the railing and leaned my elbows on it. Looked out across the land surrounding my home and grimaced. What was the point of having so much when I had no one to share it with? For the first time, I realized just how alone I was.

The waves crashing against the cliffs brought a small sense of peace to my chaotic mind. Anger was a horrible emotion, one you couldn’t contain. Not really. It festered and ate at you until what was left was bitterness.

“I know why you’re being sued, Chester.” The clink of a keyboard stopped, and the squeak of a chair being leaned on followed. She muttered something under her breath, too low for me to hear before addressing me once more. “That, too, has been trending all over social media. You assaulted a photog and threatened him. There’s a video of the event circulating. Of him calling me a whore among other things…how you reacted was, and I hate to admit this, hot.”

That caused me to chuckle. “Even pissed, you want me.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped into the phone. “I’m not going back there again.”

“We’re not over.” Out of her goddamned mind if she thought we were.

“Yes, we are.” The conviction in her voice made me laugh, something she didn’t appreciate. “Nothing you can do or say will change that…nothing. I’ll never play second, not for you or anyone else. Not worth it.”

“Ashley and me—”

“Can go fuck yourselves,” Ariana interrupted. “Do you have any idea how it felt to see those pictures? For a minute, stop and think with your head and not your dick. Seeing her wrapped in your embrace hurt. I’ll never be okay with that—with another woman being thrown over your shoulder or your lips kissing her affectionately.”

While I felt bad about the situation we were in, I was pissed. Pissed at the way each woman pulled me in a different direction.

One with tears.

The other with telling me we were through.

Pulling the phone from my ear, I took a second to compose myself. Things could go two ways.

“Fuck.” Loud, I yelled it out into the afternoon’s sky while the phone in my hand began to weigh. Too much. After a few minutes, I brought it back to my ear. “Let me call you back a little later. You’re mad, and my head’s not on straight. The last thing I want to do is say something and ruin what we have.”

“Too late.” Low, so low I almost didn’t catch it. “While I told you I’d give you the time needed to end things for the public’s sake, I can’t. Respecting me should’ve been important, and you failed. Go back to her and leave me be.”

“Never. That’s not an option for me,” I vowed.

“Then I’ll apologize ahead of time for your incoming disappointment.” And then she hung up.

I Saw You...

Two days.

Forty-eight hours.

God fucking knows how many minutes because I refused to keep counting after the first hour. No, I’d go insane. Mad. Become desperate enough to board the first flight out and show up at her door.

And that’s one thing I’d never fucking become for any woman.

Bullshit. You already have.

Arianna has somehow ingrained herself deep within my DNA. Merged with a part of me that no one else had ever reached. Fucking bewitched me to the point I saw no one but her.

Because I do. I see her.

Every inch—every part of what made up
her
persona.

Even if that made me sound like a pussy, I’d wear the taunt with a badge of honor. I’d do anything for that woman, even if that meant taking the world down with me.
She’d be mine once more.

Again I called: call number one hundred and eight in the past forty-eight hours. Just like the ones prior, she refused it. Two rings and then straight to voicemail.

“Motherfucker!” I yelled out and slumped against the padded wall behind me. We were in the studio, recording the song I’d written for her. I wanted it to make the final cut into the album and be the first single released. If anything, it’d prove just how important she was. “What’s it going to take?”

The guys had stepped out to grab a smoke—take a break while I stayed put. Alone, looking like a pathetic fool inside the sound booth. Phone in hand, I stared out into the room. Put into perspective the last few days.

I was man enough to admit my faults.

Angry at myself for not having the patience I should’ve had with her. For not understanding, or giving her feelings any credit.

In this instance, she was right. I’d never accept her being with another: hugging, touching...a pair of lips not my own touching her skin. I’d kill the motherfucker first.

Couldn’t be a hypocrite anymore. I saw the pictures, and after the residual effects of the alcohol subsided, I cringed. Fucked up, I made a mess of things.

Once more I pressed the green button and brought the phone to my ear. My foot tapped against the floor, a nervous tick.

This time there was a click and then the soft sound of breathing. My own hitched.  Seconds, minutes ticked by, and we remained silent.

Then a low sigh I’d know anywhere. “What?” Defeated, she sounded as tired as I felt. With this mess. With the Ashley situation. All of it.

“Can we talk?” Holding the phone between my shoulder and ear, I flexed my hands out. Cracked each finger to ease some of the discomfort. “Please.”

“Do I have a choice? Because quite frankly, it was either pick up or slam my precious phone against the floor.” Gabriel wasn’t kidding when he expressed just how much she loved the tiny contraption. Slept with it beside her, checked it first thing after waking up.

“I’ll never stop coming for you.” The weight of my words made her gasp. Soft and low, but the reaction was there.

“We’re done.” There was no weight behind it.

“I’m sorry, Slim,” I began, then paused. Licking my dry lips, I took a second to choose my words correctly. “There’s no way for me to justify what happened. I didn’t touch her romantically, but I can admit that the pictures were incriminating. We were all at the bar that night, baby, Ash included.”  I didn’t miss the growl that erupted at the mere mention of my best friend’s name. That made me smile if only for a second before it dropped, the seriousness of it all hitting me once more. “We were in the middle of discussing the court case with Brian when she walked off crying.”

“Her smile was blinding in those pictures.” She cut in, anger tinged her tone. “All smiles and dreamy eyes—not the typical facial expression of a woman who’s upset.”

“What do I do, babe? Tell me?” I begged, not giving a shit how that made me look. Arianna was about to slip through my fingers; I felt it. “Was I supposed to let her cry? Treat her like shit? That’s just not the kind of man I am. She’s my best friend.”

“Let me go.”

“What?”

“You asked what you’re supposed to do. Let me go.” Pain exploded in my chest once more. This time stronger.

“Can’t do that.” I’d never been more truthful in my life. Rubbing the spot with my hand, I looked up as the boys and Chaz walked in. Cris raised a brow in question, but I shook my head. They all eyed me with worry, but I shrugged it off.

There was no way I’d leave the conversation as it was, disjointed and wrong.

“I can’t be with you, Cheesy,” she spoke on a pained whisper. Her sweet voice calling me by my nickname felt like a painful dagger to the chest. “You belong to another, Chester. Even if you don’t see it yet, you’ll never cease the past to become my future.”

I Saw You...

“Yo,” I answered, surprised by just whose name flashed across the screen of my phone. Gabriel wasn’t a friend. “What’s up?” Then it hit me. What if… “Is Arianna okay?”

“You’re an idiot,” Gabriel deadpanned, his tone angry. Accusatory. “Didn’t I tell you not to hurt her? And worse, you haven’t shown your face around here yet. What are you waiting for? For that asshole ex—”

“What asshole ex?” Gone was my calm demeanor. Ire blinded me. “Fuck’s going on?” For the last seven days I’d given her room to breathe, to let go of some of the anger. Never had I envisioned a scenario where she’d be moving on.

“City’s golden boy is back. Sniffing around,” he grumbled while an angry growl erupted from deep within. “For the last three days he’s stopped at the club every single night. The media—sports entertainment section of the Miami Herald is talking about reconciliation. Fucker is persistent.”

“What are you trying to tell me? Spit it the fuck out.” My heart pounded inside my chest while the blood flowing through my veins throbbed in anger. “Where is she?”

Gabriel let out a long and tired sigh. “Arianna agreed to have dinner with him tomorrow.”

“I’ll be on the next flight out,” I snarled before hanging up. Slim had no idea the mistake she just made. God help her.

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