Killian Read online

  hesitate to enforce our contract. The studio's position is that you were sent here to do more in-depth research for your role. You did not flee the film set."

  I crossed my arms over my chest. "Screw you both."

  "Unfortunately, River," my manager said, "You're the one who's going to be screwed if you don't show up for filming. Don't forget, I'm well aware you don't have the financial resources to afford a huge lawsuit."

  She straightened the collar on her shirt, her face screwed up in distaste as she turned to leave. "I hope he's worth being bankrupted over."

  The door closed behind them, the house enveloped in silence.

  My head was spinning. Was he worth risking everything?

  He's just a fling.

  You know nothing about him.

  This isn't worth it.

  Is it?

  I slid open the screen on the cell phone and looked at Elias' last text, with the address of the bar where he'd apparently gone.

  I knew what I had to do.

  30

  Elias

  "Look, I know it sounds crazy," Silas said.

  "Yeah, Silas, it does," I said. "Are you high or something?" Silas had a history of goddamned problems, and I knew he'd done his fair share of boozing and drugging. It was one of the reasons he'd lost everything in college- his whole damn scholarship. I thought that part of things was past, that he was far gone from that bullshit.

  But, hell, I'd never seen him paranoid, ranting like some crazy person with fucking conspiracy theories and shit.

  "I'm just saying, I got curious, is all," he said. "It just didn't make any sense he would be blasting away at the hill anymore. That mine hasn't been used in years. Why the hell would he go out there blasting it?"

  I sighed. "Who the hell cares, Silas? Who knows what the asshole was doing?" I was willing to cut Silas some slack, but this bullshit about our fucking father's death not being an accident - it was over the line.

  "You going to do something or just stand there and look pretty?" Silas' boss, Roger, yelled from across the room.

  "The hell do you want from me, Roger?" Silas called, letting out a heavy sigh. "I'm a bouncer, not one of your big titty bartenders."

  "Christ on a cracker, cut me some fucking slack with the lip," Roger said, throwing a rag across the room. "Just wipe something down while you're standing around. I'm short-staffed and we open in a couple hours. Unless your brother over there's too good for that shit now, screwing a movie star and all."

  I shot him a look and he turned around, laughing. "Yeah, yeah," Roger said, picking up a bucket. "I'll mind my own fucking business. I've got to go get ice."

  Silas turned to me. "Look, it just doesn't make any sense. That's all I'm saying."

  "And all I'm saying to you is, why the hell is it relevant to my life?" I asked. "I don't give a shit how he died, if he got accidentally killed by a rock landing on his head because his drunk ass thought it would be fun to blast off the side of that hill. I don't give a shit if he died because a fucking UFO flew overhead and knocked him on the skull. I'm glad he's dead."

  "I'm sure mom is, too," Silas said.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "It means that maybe mom did something," he said.

  I shrugged. "Like whacked him on the top of the head with a rock?" I asked. "Can you really see her doing something like that - our mother? The same one who gets headaches at the slightest mention of something that might raise her blood pressure? She practically has fainting spells, Silas. She can barely handle life. If you think she killed our father, maybe you're the one who's delusional."

  "She could have," Silas said. "Why is Old Man Easton visiting her?"

  "I don't know," I said. "Why does anything in this town happen? What, do you think the goddamned mayor killed our father now?"

  Silas shook his head. "No. Maybe. I don't know, is the point. I'm just saying that the way it supposedly happened doesn't make any sense. Not when you go out and look at the scene."

  "Yeah," I said. "You're a real goddamned crime scene investigator or some shit now, huh?"

  "Fuck," he said. "I knew you wouldn't take it seriously."

  "No, I'm not going to take it seriously, some wild hair you've got up your ass about him being murdered. Someone could have bashed his skull in with a rock. Hell, I hope it was our mother who finally got fed up and beat him to death. I'd have some damned respect for her for once. It would show us she's got a little backbone in there. But he's dead. It's all that matters."

  "But don't you want to know why someone would be interested in him being out of the picture?" Silas' blue eyes were wide. I watched him, ranting about his theory, half-thinking he might really be on drugs or something.

  "I'm not going to talk about this anymore," I said. "I have to take a leak."

  "Going to go grab a smoke," Silas said.

  "Thought you quit that shit," I said, over my shoulder.

  "Hey, gimme one of those, will you?" Silas' boss yelled across the room as he walked outside with him.

  Fuck Silas and his crazy bullshit theories. What the hell would anyone want with murdering my father? Sure, plenty of people hated the asshole - I couldn't fucking think of a single person, other than my lunatic mother, who liked him, other than his drinking buddies at the bar. But people who hated him would cop to it. Covering something up implied there was something to cover up.

  My father had nothing in his life worth murdering over.

  On the other hand, my mother and the mayor... She had been cagey when I'd asked about that.

  31

  River

  My head was spinning. I would have to come clean with Elias about the movie. I needed to tell him. He would understand. I was contractually obligated.

  I would have to go back to Hollywood.

  It wouldn't be that long.

  It was the only reasonable thing, I told myself as I drove to the address he'd given me.

  I needed to do what was practical.

  What did I really know about me and Elias, anyway? I knew how I felt when he touched me, how he made me feel when he held me. But that didn't tell me shit about shit, right?

  It wasn't enough to make a decision about someone, was it? Two weeks of knowing a person did not count for anything.

  It didn't mean this was something.

  It could just as easily be nothing. A fling.

  The reasonable part of me said it was a fling. By definition, it was a rebound.

  Don't make life-altering decisions in the middle of stressful situations, my therapist had advised me.

  Picking someone up and deciding it was a relationship when you were on the run from your wedding...that was probably one of those things I wasn't supposed to do.

  It wasn't healthy.

  What Elias and I had...it wasn't real, then.

  The smart thing to do would be to head back to Hollywood, alone, and do my movie.

  On the other hand...Elias could come with me.

  I could ask him to come. I could tell him how I felt, being with him here. I could tell him I wanted more.

  I could take the risk, tell him that it was crazy, that I'd never felt like this about anyone before, that the thought of leaving here without him was just...bleak.

  When I saw his Mustang in the parking lot of the bar, my heart skipped a beat. I steeled myself, taking a deep breath.

  I was going to do it.

  He might completely laugh at me, say I was crazy.

  I smoothed my hair on the edges, the stray pieces that kept flying out over my ears, wondering why the hell I didn't get a proper haircut while I was here instead of this hack job. My hands trembled.

  I walked down the sidewalk toward the entrance, and almost turned in, until I saw Elias talking to some guy around the corner. They were...smoking.

  Elias didn't smoke.

  Or, he didn't tell me he smoked.

  I stopped, mid-motion in a wave, and dropped my hand. They were laughing and joking,