by Jackson Kane
I didn’t know much about Bastien’s father except that he was a first sergeant in the Marines. I had no idea what that rank meant, but it sounded high up. Bastien rarely talked about it. I think he was bitter at the fact that he always had to switch schools when his father got new orders.
I didn’t know how any of that worked, and my father never bothered explaining it when I asked. He just told me it was all a waste of time and forbade me from joining any branch.
“Is Lori Kontos available?” Asked one of the men. They were rigid and professional, and had a sad grimness to them. They made me instantly feel anxious and uncomfortable.
“No. Mom bailed after the divorce two years ago. We haven’t heard from her since. I can take a message...” I'd never seen Bastien so hesitant; it really unnerved me for some reason. “I'm her son, Bastien.”
I had no idea why, but my stomach turned at what the men were about to say. It didn’t strike me that men like these made social calls.
This couldn't be good news.
The man who spoke earlier frowned deeply, then began, “Son, it is with great regret that we have to inform you—”
“My father... He's dead, isn't he?” Bastien asked. His tone was distant and hollow. He knew what this was, he'd probably run through this scenario a million times in his mind every time his dad was deployed.
“I'm sorry,” the man said, nodding.
But to have it actually come true...
My heart broke for Bastien.
Present.
His Rolls-Royce was insanely fast! There were a couple of times that I thought we'd fly off the road and never come down.
“Your dad said she was stable?” Bastien abruptly asked. His voice was so much sterner now than it was just a short time ago.
“Huh?” Dammit, Olivia, focus! I shook the cauldron of mixed emotions from my mind and cleared my throat. “Yes! Yes. He said she's beaten up a bit, but it wasn't life-threatening.” I looked at Bastien, but he was singularly focused on the road. “She's going to be alright, Bastien.”
He only nodded slightly in response. I could only imagine what was rushing through his head. First his dad, then— No. Trisha is going to be alright. She had to be.
Bastien and Trish were always extremely close. In many ways she was as close as a mother to him. The thought of losing her rattled Bastien.
Back in high school Trish kept a close eye on him. She’d cook him dinners and make sure he had everything he needed. After his father died Trish tried to adopt Bastien, but couldn’t being that his biological mother was still alive, albeit no one knew where exactly she was. Instead to keep him in school and not lost in the child services system, she covered for him and watched over him.
She was basically all the family Bastien had left.
It was a five hour drive to the hospital in NYC, but somehow Bastien made it in just over three.
When we got to Trisha's room, she was asleep and in stable condition. She was bruised and battered, and generally in rough shape. She had a broken arm and leg, but no internal bleeding. The constant whir and beeps of the various machines she was hooked up to painted a horribly real picture of what a car crash could do to someone.
And my father, her own husband, was nowhere to be found.
Bastien stepped out into the hallway and grabbed the arm of one of the passing nurses. “Where the hell is Delvin?”
“Beg your pardon?” The nurse was taken aback by Bastien's directness.
“Trisha Ward's husband.”
“Oh, Mr. Ward arrived shortly after she was brought in. He signed some paperwork, but didn't stay long.” An alarm in another room forced the nurse away before Bastien could ask her any more questions.
Bastien was livid; his knuckles flexed like he was just aching to hit something.
I called my father again, he still wasn't answering. From what he told me earlier, Trisha was being driven to a restaurant to meet him when her car was run off the road by some 'crazy person'.
It felt like there's more to this story, but I never knew with him.
He's an actor after all, and a frustratingly good one.
“It's going to be alright.” I told Bastien. I moved to touch his hand and then caught myself. There might be people watching.
He was lost in thought, but I had no idea what he was thinking. Seeing the pain on Bastien's face made me feel ashamed. I wanted to touch him, to hug and kiss him and tell him not to worry, but the nagging realization that we were back in public stopped me.
I guess my father taught me well.
That thought was immediately followed by a wave of nausea. Even in the wake of tragedy, I couldn't shake worrying about my public image.
Bastien just frowned and pulled away. He wasn't the type of person who asked for or allowed any emotional or physical help. He folded his arms and walked back into Trish’s room. I stayed in the hallway and watched him go, feeling heavy and horrible.
Now that I was back in the real world, I was paralyzed by the thought that someone might be watching or photographing me. I couldn't help it. Throughout the entirety of my whole life, my father drilled one concept into my head.
'You are whatever the public says you are. And as an actor, you live with the shadow of scandal looming over you at all times. Olivia, you are only one mistake away from ridicule, then obscurity.'
Hearing my father's voice in my head made me shiver with anger.
My phone mercifully lit up with a message from my friend, Marcy. She'd arrived at the hospital with some dry clothes for us. We were in such a rush earlier that Bastien hadn't stopped for a change of clothes.
Although it was nowhere near as cold as it was last time in November, we were both still damp from the Jacuzzi.
Marcy was flirting with the security guard in the lobby when I finally found her. She flipped back and twirled a strand of her luscious, dark brown hair, laughing. It wasn't even dawn yet, and Marcy looked amazing. Strapless dress, flawless makeup and hair, I could never tell if she was going to a party or coming from one. I guess it didn't matter, she always looked perfect.
She gave the absolutely smitten security guard a final wink and sauntered over to me.
I'd known Marcy since high school, although she didn't actually go to my school. She toyed at the idea of becoming an actor, but decided to go the modeling route instead. Modeling fit her showy personality well; she wore the lifestyle like a sexy bikini.
“Oh, my dear, Livy!” Marcy hugged me, kissing the air to either side of my face.
I rolled my eyes at the horrible nickname she made for me ages ago, but she was helping me out so I didn't want to scold her for it.
“You look simply atrocious.” She looked me over with meticulous care.
I was insulted, but she was right. I felt like an absolute mess. I was still in my now ruined party dress. My hair was flattened, frizzy, and pulled back. I wasn't even wearing underwear anymore, which, although I was still covered, made me feel super exposed.
“Thanks, Marcy,” I said, dryly. I took a breath, letting my annoyance drain away, then smiled at her. It was nice of her to interrupt her probably fabulous plans to come to the hospital for me. “You're a lifesaver.”
“Of course! Is your stepmom ok? It's all over the news.”
“She'll be alright,” I said. “She just needs to rest.”
“Ok, so, here's the clothes for you.” Marcy handed me a shopping bag. How she was able to go shopping at this time of the morning, I'll never know. Then she handed me a second bag. “And these, I assume, are for your crazy-hot bodyguard.” Her practiced, flirty smile bubbled its way to her lips. “Is he single yet?”
“No.” The word vomited out of me.
What the hell was that? Am still I jealous?
“I mean, I don't know. Maybe?” I shrugged. “We keep it purely professional.” It was hard delivering that line when I had absolutely no idea where my underwear ended up. “I doubt he has time for anything with what’s going on with my
family.”
“Livy, I'm totes angry at you for keeping him all to yourself.”
“What?” My eyes flared and I began to flush. What had Marcy heard? It was impossible for her to know about what happened at my apartment or the hot tub. Wasn’t it?
“I know, I know. He's your bodyguard, but have you seen his cock yet? Y'know by accident, or whatever?” She shrugged and smiled, then licked her lips. “I'm just saying I bet it's probably huge.”
“Marcy...” I sighed, feeling relieved. Marcy was the queen of gossip. If anyone knew about Bastien and me, it’d be her. She was just being her pervy self.
For a moment I thought I was busted.
I liked Marcy well enough, but we weren’t all that close. We’d developed this weird friendship that played well for both our public images. She was the wild girl always dragging me into trouble and I was supposedly her moral center, keeping her from going completely off the rails.
“Sweet Olivia wouldn't dream of such a vile act.” Marcy put the back of her hand to her forehead and feigned squeamishness. “A body like his and I wouldn't care if he was my brother, I'd let him fuck me into a wheelchair. I'm wet just thinking about him,” Marcy fanned herself. “Is that weird?”
“Oh my God!” My eyes shot wide in disbelief as I scanned around for people who could be listening. “Why am I friends with you?”
“Seriously, Livy. You'd better give him my number or our BFF status on Facebook becomes 'it's complicated,' real quick.”
“Marcy!” It was completely selfish, but there was no way in hell that I would ever let Bastien near her.
I couldn't shake the vivid image of him and me in the Jacuzzi earlier. What he said to me raised my skin with goose bumps. 'How many times do I have to tell you, Olivia? You belong to me.'
“It's—it’s just not a good time right now.” I swallowed, hoping that the heat flushing to my face wasn't too visible. “Marcy, we're in a hospital.”
“Yeah, the stepmom thing, super sorry! I just figured it wasn't a huge deal. Your dad already did a YouTube press conference about it. Just a fender-bender, right?”
“He did what?” Is that why he wasn't here or answering my calls? He was too busy addressing his fans than concerning himself with his family. And that was no 'fender-bender,’ Trisha was really hurt!
My father could be such a fucking monster sometimes.
“Delvin said you'd be talking about it during your late night talk show interview tomorrow.” Marcy paused and did some math in her head. “Well technically the interview is tonight, because right now is tomorrow.
“He said what!” I was beginning to sound like a broken record.
“My sense of timing gets all weird after the clubs let out.” Marcy giggled. “Once I come down off the ecstasy I’m definitely hitting the sack.” She glanced back at the security guard who was hanging on her every lingering glance. “Then after that, straight to sleep.”
I'd completely forgotten about that stupid interview!
I checked the time on my phone. That talk show was fifteen hours from now! Not even a day away and my father was already making promises on my behalf. I couldn't believe it.
Now that he said that, I might not even be able to cancel it.
I couldn't care less about promoting my latest movie. All I wanted to do was to stay here with Trisha and Bastien.
They're the ones that needed me, not the talk show or the production company. It's either being there for my family, and whatever Bastien was to me now, or damaging my career.
Chapter 11
Bastien
Past
“There you are!” I hear Olivia's voice getting closer. I'd been hiding from her for the last few weeks. She's the one person I couldn't bear to talk to.
And she finally found me.
I ignored her, and whipped another beer bottle at the side of the abandoned mill. It smashed out a window on the second floor.
“Bastien, Trish and I have been looking all over for you.” Olivia looked around at the decaying mill district, mildly disgusted. A girl like her, who’s lived in the nicer areas of Boston all her life, didn't belong in places like this. “Is this where you've been staying?”
Only for the last week. I'd been traveling around since I ran away, sleeping wherever I could and fighting for whatever I could get.
Olivia was all bundled up in her nice new winter clothes. She may have been an outsider at school but, her family was still loaded. She always had expensive clothing. In the poorer parts of South Boston, she stuck out like an easy target.
This was a dangerous place; I had to get her out of her as quickly as possible.
“You shouldn't be here.” I threw another bottle. It shattered on a crumbling brick wall. The cops barely came to this area in Southie, so I could be as destructive as I wanted and no one would say shit.
“How long are you going to do this for?” She didn't seem concerned about her own safety at all, probably because she didn't know the area well.
For such a smart girl she could be pretty stupid sometimes.
“Until the bottles run out, I guess.” I shrugged.
“You know that's not what I mean.”
“What the fuck do you want from me, Olivia?” I finally turned and looked at her; it was something I was hoping to avoid. I was angry all the time now. It was the only thing that kept me going anymore. The compassion and concern in her soft blue eyes ripped me to shreds. “My father's dead!”
Please just leave me alone, Olivia.
“You don't have to go through this alone, Bastien. Ms. Lane is worried sick about you.” Olivia's voice was a thick blanket in the bitter cold, soft, warm and comforting. All she wanted was to help me. I had fallen overboard and she had thrown me a life preserver. “It's alright to grieve. Please, just come home.”
“Home... I guess that's what Boston is now, huh? You don't have to worry about me going very far now.” The words rose in my throat like bile, there was no stopping them. It was like the end of a sad movie that you'd seen a hundred times. You'd give anything to change the outcome, but all you could do was watch the events unfold. I lashed out at her, saying the worst thing I could think of. “Looks like you got what you wanted.”
Immediately my eyes snapped away.
I couldn't bear to see the look on her face. I couldn't bear to hurt the person I cared about the most, but I had to. I was too damaged now; I'd only drag her down. I knew she cared about me, but it was better for her if she just gave up on me and moved on.
It’d be better for me if I stopped hoping things could be different.
I never looked back at Olivia after that. All I heard was muted crying and the snowy crunch of footsteps walking away.
I was truly alone now.
Present.
“You're seriously leaving?” Of all people, I didn't think she'd be the one to bail on me.
“I'm sorry. I’ve spent the last twelve hours trying to get out of it. I'm under contract to appear on that talk show, they could sue me if I don't show up.” Olivia tried to explain, but I wasn’t hearing any of it.
All it sounded like to me were excuses.
“So, what? Your stepmom is in the hospital. She needs you.” I gave Olivia a hard look. I was pissed at Trisha's driver for letting that happen and at Delvin for abandoning her and not telling us what really happened.
“If they sue me, Bastien—” Olivia’s brows were turned up in a pleading expression. “I’m ruined.”
“Y'know what, Olivia? Go.” I felt that too familiar rage take over and couldn’t stop it if I wanted to. Olivia hesitated, but I was already too angry to stop. “Go be your father's daughter.”
Olivia was stunned. She started to retort, to attack me back, but ultimately decided against it. A part of her felt the truth in my words, and knew how much she had changed over the years.
“I might’ve changed, but you sure as hell haven’t.” Olivia narrowed her eyes at me, touched Trish’s knee one last time, then
left.
I stewed there for a few minutes. When my anger finally diffused, I began to feel guilty. She still shouldn't have left, but I shouldn't have been so damn hard on her either.
I blew out my air and rubbed my face.
Why couldn’t I control my damn anger? I didn’t want to be mean to her. It's just when my anger gets going, I lose control.
“You don't know what that poor girl's been through, Bastien.” Trish’s voice was weak, but still stern.
“You’re awake?” I pulled up a chair next to her so she wouldn't have to talk so loud.
“She broke into acting all by herself. Delvin didn't help her in any way.”
“What?” That was insane! Delvin was a callous prick to those around him, but Olivia's his own daughter. “Why the hell not? With all the connections he had, it'd have been nothing to get her into a few good roles.”
Why was he always so hard on her? It never made any sense.
“I asked him the same thing. He told me that he had done it on his own so she should too. I didn’t agree with him. But I don’t agree with him about a lot of things.”
“Why are you still with him? Delvin—” I began, but she cut me off. I didn't blame her for that; the doctors had her on a cocktail of pain meds.
“That first day when you came back to be Olivia's bodyguard, I whispered something to her.” She took a moment. Even breathing was difficult for her. When she regained her breath, the concern in her face made me feel like I was the one in the car accident. “I told her that you needed her as much as she needed you. I told her that you were still lost. I hoped Olivia could bring you back to us. Frankly, I don't know how you're still alive. I miss you, Bastien. Olivia misses you too.”
Misses? She made it sound like I was still gone.
I sighed. It was really great to reconnect with Olivia, but part of me was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was like I always had one foot out the door, and was just waiting for another reason to abandon her again.
I hated thinking that way.
