Fix me when i fall, p.17
Fix Me When I Fall, page 17
He made gentle sweeps of my back—up and down. “Tonight’s been just you and me.”
“We might know what this is, but no one else will. This isn’t going anywhere.”
“I figured one of us would freak out, but expected it’d be me. I’m not good at relationships. We both know that.”
My sister had done a number on him. “That’s not true. You’re more relationship material than Kathy ever was. Kathy made you think you’re not. If we could’ve gotten her into rehab, maybe she’d have been different. You can do monogamy. The issue is that I can’t be the right one for you to test the waters of long-term.” I massaged my forehead before turning to face him. “You and I both know we can’t do this again.”
“Of course we can.” He sat up, the covers falling to his waist. My gaze fell down the expanse of skin.
I had to screw my eyelids closed to focus on what needed to be done. “Deep down, you know I’m right. This is a distraction from everything we have to do to get your career moving the right way. It’s what I’ve got to do.” I nodded more to convince myself it was the right move. “I need you to promise me you’ll do your part.”
“This wasn’t a mistake. Why is it me trying to convince you of this?”
“It was inevitable. What we have…” I covered my face. “I don’t know what it is about you. It’s not like this with anyone else. It’s nuts. Crazy. I don’t like not understanding this, but I can fix this.”
“You don’t like not having control,” he whispered.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand. New message from an A-list English producer I hadn’t heard from in a while. I scrolled the message. “It’s happening, Ryan. The fire is starting. Randolph Scott just messaged me that he wants you to audition for his project that starts shooting next year. Says he heard you’re doing the film with Jolinson. He’s interested because Jolinson kicked out Eckard to get you.”
“Randolph Scott?” He repeated with awe. “He only does a film once every five or six years.”
We stared at each other in silence. The weight of career needs and our personal lives teetered against each other on the scale.
I saw the hunger in his eyes.
“That, Ryan. Feed what you're feeling right now. Let me go. Let me be another one of your one-nighters.”
It hurt me to say that. A deep part of me wanted him to rebel and choose me. I was also pulled by a need to do right by him and what we’d set out to accomplish with his career.
“I ran from you for years. It didn’t make this go away. He traced my spine, sending tingles shooting all over my back.
“Jolinson’s offer tells me everything is going to work out for you. I want that for you. I have to be the advocate for you.” I hoped he’d understand. “I want to see you fly. I don’t want to hold you back.”
The house alarm chimed its alert that someone had opened an exterior door.
We both froze, eyes wide.
“Someone’s in the house.” He pulled on a pair of shorts flung over a chair near the bed. “I should’ve tuned on the alarm but I was distracted.”
“You think it’s Michael or Vin?”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s three-thirty. No.” He scrolled through screens on his smartwatch. “Police have been called. Vin and Michael are alerted.”
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I lunged across the bed to grab his arm. “What if whoever it is has a gun or something else?”
“Ryan, where the fuck are you? You’re going to give me my goddamned monthly payment!” The angry cry came from outside the bedroom.
“That’s your Dad. He sounds drunk.” I grabbed for his hand when he moved away. I whispered, “Please wait for the police. I don’t want you hurt.”
“Stay here.” He stormed to the door. “What the fuck are you doing breaking into my house in the middle of the night?”
I pulled on a t-shirt discarded by a laundry hamper before I tiptoed to the door to peek out.
Something glass hit and shattered against the wall near the bedroom door. I threw a hand over my mouth to hold back a scream. My entire body shook to the point my teeth chattered.
“You owe me this month’s payment.” William Brandt prowled toward Ryan. “You think you’re too good for me now that you’re fucking some slutty starlet and made a few lowsy films? You’re nothing without me. Nothing.” He picked up a vase and threw it.
Ryan ducked to avoid scattering shards.
His father hissed. “I’m the one who set you up with an agent. I’m the one who got you that part in the series. You owe me.”
“No. I’m done. If you need money, get a job.”
William moved fast to lock a hand around Ryan’s throat. He slammed his son against the wall. Ryan clawed at the hand cutting off his air.
Thought vacated my mind. I grabbed the first thing I saw, a water bottle and ran for William. I slammed the back of his head with the metal bottle.
William released Ryan to cradle his head. He whirled. I saw the hand arching to hit me and jumped back. It missed my face but collided with my shoulder. The impact threw me onto the floor.
Ryan roared. He charged his father.
William’s fist was faster and caught Ryan in the stomach. Ryan doubled over, coughing.
William closed in on him. Ryan held up his hands to fend him off.
Sirens paused all of us. Pounding on the door and then police charged inside. One of them pushed William to the floor and handcuffed him while reading him his rights.
Ryan got to his feet and massaged his throat. “He broke into the house. Attacked us.”
“He choked him,” I added. “Tried to kill him…us.”
An hour later we’d both told the story at least three times to two different officers. Michael had already cleaned up the glass and vase shards, and straightened the mess.
Now dressed, I sat next to Ryan on the sofa where he stared vacantly at the wall above the TV. “We’ll get a restraining order against him and press charges.”
“I know.” He took my hand and kissed the palm. “I’m sorry you had to be in that. I always tried to keep you away from it. Thank you for stopping him.”
“I won’t let him hurt you anymore.” I leaned forward to pull his mouth to mine and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Before he showed up, tonight was about us. He can’t ruin that. But I meant it when I said this has to be a one-time thing. I have to leave.”
“Why?”
My chest squeezed at the pain and rejection in his gaze.
“I love you so much. I always have.” I knew what would drive the wedge between us. “If you don’t get rid of me on a personal level, you’ll fail.”
“I don’t see why I have to choose between you and my career.”
“That’s the thing, though. I do see. It’s my job to make sure you succeed. That means we can’t be together. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t chase after me when I got in the car and Vin drove me away.
Chapter Twenty-Five
MACKENZIE
* * *
I waved off the six paparazzi cameras and reporters lobbing questions my way outside the restaurant after a midafternoon meeting.
“Mackenzie, did you see Angie’s Insta post about having a medical procedure saying she was lucky to have a doctor to sleep through the night with her? There are pictures of her at the doctor's house. What does Ryan say about her cheating on him?”
“No comment.” Blank face. Don’t take the bait.
My gut churned with a mixture of jealousy for the actress simply for being associated with him and horror that she might be fucking up the positive PR we threw into her lap.
The reporter gave a cursory glance to my client, who was at the end phase of her career overhaul and was usually more popular in the press than Ryan. The reporter chased me all the way to my client’s car where a bodyguard held off the reporters.
My client leaned in, gave me a goodbye cheek kiss, and whispered, “Good luck with Ryan. He’s a cutie.”
Before I could ask if she meant luck with his overhaul or if she knew he and I slept together, her car drove away.
I pushed off reporters to get to my car. If it persisted like this, I’d need to hire my own protection.
How in the world was I supposed to face Ryan after last night? But I had to do just that in forty-five minutes for a whirlwind logistics organization session before he left on his drive to San Francisco.
RYAN
* * *
Why wasn’t she here?
My gut needed more than a couple Pepto tablets two hours ago to recover from this morning. The nausea wasn’t only from meth withdrawal, but also my disappointment at Kenzie for giving up on us mixed with humiliation over Dad’s arrest.
I craved the supplement every fucking moment. The thought of it and the jolt it could give me…sweat beaded on my face. I shot out of the conference room chair to stroll to the drink station at the side, not that Vin or Michael wouldn’t realize I was crawling out of my skin.
Mackenzie pushed through the door with Suze on her heels. Her eyes slid to mine. For a moment they softened. A small smile curved her lips. Then the cool, closed-off look of professional Mackenzie, the one I despised, took over. I ran through every curse word I knew. Maybe she hadn’t seen the social posts today. First about Angie and some plastics doctor she was likely screwing. Then there were some bullshit pictures of me and some girl I’d never met. It seemed as if the press was trying to put Angie and I at war when we weren’t even dating.
Not that it mattered.
I didn’t want to forget last night. I didn’t want to move on, and I was going to fight for Kenzie.
She didn’t trust I could be a one-woman man. She probably wanted me to fail and fall into bed with a random girl like I’d been doing for years, maybe to confirm she had good reason to distrust me.
Tough shit for her. Other women weren’t an issue for me. I’d lost the desire to be with anyone else the moment Kenzie reappeared in my life. No, maybe not at that precise moment. It was the moment she called me a soon-to-be dance show contestant.
Michael frowned at me. I must be projecting my less-than-professional intent toward Mackenzie a bit too loud. She’d care, but I didn’t.
She took a seat at the head of the table and flipped through a few screens on her phone. “Let’s talk about San Francisco. Where are we with Ryan’s housing while there? Vin?”
Vin cleared his throat. “They’re filming in different locations in the city and then a few locations way out of town. We could stay at the hotel where many of the other crewmembers are staying, but I don’t like the security there. I looked into a condo rental, but in the end, Michael and I decided a yacht with a gated, private dock would be safer. We’ll have our own guys running security. Invitation only to board. The yacht is out of Long Beach. It comes fully staffed, even a chef. They’re discreet and have all been vetted. They’ve signed confidentiality agreements.”
“Nice. I like it. Great idea.” She smiled at Vin, who beamed back at her. I wanted that kind of recognition from her.
“Ryan, we secured you a spot hosting Saturday Night Live in a few months. I also just got a call from a car manufacturer. They want you for an ad that will air during the Super Bowl. Suze has a few promo ops she’s arranging for you next week while in San Francisco. You’ll have three magazine interviews as well.” Mackenzie said all this without glancing up from her phone.
Look at me.
Her eyes darted up as if she’d heard me, but they didn’t remain locked on me for long enough to communicate anything meaningful. I wanted to hit the table to keep her attention. Instead, I balled my fists beneath the table.
She’d rocked my world last night and now she refused to acknowledge me, like a high schooler determined to ignore the guy she’d been caught blowing in the bathroom.
“I can’t go up there myself.” Suze made a face. “I’m actually in the last phases of getting U.S. citizenship. I’m Canadian. Was Canadian. I’ve got an immigration interview, but they won’t tell me on what day next week. I’ll send one of my assistants to work local logistics.”
Mackenzie tapped a few times on her screen. “Great. Can you send me the exact details of those events? I’ll share them with Michael and Vin. Perhaps, they can check out the sites before they happen. Make sure everything is legit. I’ll visit next weekend to ensure everything is running smoothly.” Now she glanced up and focused on me.
“How long will you be in town?” My brain buzzed at the idea of her alone on a yacht with me. Still a paparazzi risk, but at least it’d be secluded.
“In on Friday and out on Monday morning. I’ve got to return for a client event on Tuesday.” Her eyes narrowed on me, silently communicating it would be all business while in San Francisco.
Two days. I could work with that.
Mackenzie grabbed her phone off the table when it dinged. As she glanced at the message, her composure crumbled.
“I’m sorry. I’ve got to go. I think we’re good, aren’t we?” She didn’t glance around to receive confirmation before she hustled out.
Chapter Twenty-Six
MACKENZIE
* * *
With my phone to my ear, I dashed to my car.
Come on, answer.
“I’m okay. I swear. I just thought it might be smart to have you come by and make sure,” Bryan said the moment he answered. “Please, don’t stress.”
“You said you’re having chills. I’m stressed and on my way now.”
“Yeah, got the shakes.”
“Anything else? Did you pass out?”
“I woke up on the bathroom floor a little bit ago.”
The air whooshed out of my lungs. He’d fallen. Oh, God. I paused my fast walk to suck in a breath. “Did you hurt yourself when you passed out?”
“I don’t think so. Nah. I’m the same. Just so fucking tired.”
“You’re crashing again. I wish you’d let me stay with you, or you could stay with me for a while. I’m on my way. I’m taking you to the hospital.” I resumed my trek to the car, using my free hand to find the keys in my purse.
“You’re busy. I can tell it in your tone.”
“Don’t stress about my schedule.”
“I can handle getting myself to the hospital again.” There was a commotion.
“What was that? Bryan?”
A few curses came through the phone.
“Bryan? Bryan! Did you just fall again? I’m on my way. Sit down and stay put.” I sped up.
“Will do.” Bryan hung up.
“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked behind me.
I jumped. “What’re you…”
He was so close. “I’m going with you.”
“No. I don’t need you for this. I have something I have to go deal with. Something personal.” I paused by my car and crossed my arms.
Damn it, he wasn't going away.
“Your hands are shaking. Is it Bryan?” How great it’d be to lean into him, to have his arms around me, and to have him tell me Bryan would make it through this.
“This is for me to deal with. You have meetings this afternoon.” I clicked on my home screen to see the time. “In two hours.”
He took my keys and opened the passenger door, holding it for me. “Get in. I’m driving.”
I put out my hand to get my keys back. “I got this. It’s not the first time Bryan has had trouble after a chemo treatment.”
“Kenzie, you’re a mess. Let me drive you. I’ll help you get him to the hospital. Vin can pick me up there. There’s plenty of time for everything.”
“You’re going to be an ass about this if I say no, aren’t you?”
“Probably.” He scooted around to the driver’s side. After a seat adjustment, he turned on the car.
I harrumphed and slid into the passenger seat. “I’m going to call ahead and see if his doctor is on call today.”
By the time I got off the phone, Ryan had parked on Bryan’s street. “Stay out here,” I ordered. “I’m not sure he’d want you to see him like this. Let me get him cleaned up and put together.”
“Okay. Wave out the front door if you need me.”
“Bryan?” I called as I unlocked his front door.
Nothing.
Miz Z ran circles around me while I searched the ranch house.
“You reek of skunk,” I scolded the little dog.
Bryan’s years of makeup work made for some interesting art. Mannequins featuring elaborate masks he’d designed for sci-fi and horror productions forced me to flip on the lights to make sure they were fake and not real people. The Elvis look-alike in the hallway, as always, startled me as I rounded the corner. How I hated this one’s cheesy grin.
The Pomeranian disappeared and barked from the bedroom. Inside, I found Bryan sprawled on his bed, face down, still in his PJs.
“Good girl.” I petted the dog before approaching the bed.
“Bryan?” I shook him, but he didn’t wake up. He breathed as if asleep. His clothes were drenched from sweat. I shook him harder.
He groaned and rolled himself to a sit and grabbed my hand. “Mackenzie…need help.”
“Let’s get you in some clothes. Then we’ll go to the car.”
He sat as if preparing to stand, but folded inward and rolled to the floor.
“Bryan?” I shook him, getting no response. His chest wasn’t moving. Bile rose in my throat. “Don’t you dare die.”
I texted Ryan: 911. You call ambulance. Starting CPR.
One. Two. Three. Four.
I counted chest compressions in my head until reaching thirty. Two breaths. Then back to focus on compressions. It’d been so long since that CPR course in Girl Scouts as a kid. In the back of my head, I remembered hearing something saying the breaths weren't recommended anymore. I didn't know for sure. Couldn't think. Just did it the way I was taught.
“They’ll be here in two minutes,” Ryan announced from the doorway.
