Stone Promises (A Stone Brothers Novel)

by Samantha Christy

  Stone Promises

  samantha christy

  Saint Augustine, FL 32092

  Copyright © 2017 by Samantha Christy

  All rights reserved, including the rights to reproduce this book or any portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design © Sarah Hansen, Okay Creations

  ISBN-13: 978-1542579568

  ISBN-10: 1542579562

  This book is dedicated to all the readers who have reached out to me. I will never tire of hearing from you.

  Books by Samantha Christy

  Be My Reason

  Abstract Love

  Finding Mikayla

  Purple Orchids (The Mitchell Sisters Book One)

  White Lilies (The Mitchell Sisters Book Two)

  Black Roses (The Mitchell Sisters Book Three)

  Stone Rules (The Stone Brothers Book One)

  Stone Promises (The Stone Brothers Book Two)

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Chad

  “Is it true you only have one testicle?” someone shouts.

  I look up, only to be blinded by dozens of camera flashes. Damn it!

  Even with the private entrance, secure hallways, and VIP lounges, we still have to go through TSA security like everyone else. And now pictures of me removing my belt while Courtney was conveniently draped over me like a cheap fucking suit will be tabloid fodder for days.

  I look over my shoulder at my publicist. “Kendra?”

  She nods knowingly. “I’m on it,” she says, depositing her phone into a security bin. “As soon as we get through the line.”

  Kendra has proven to be worth her weight in gold. She probably works harder than most publicists out there considering my less-than-ideal past. She’s only been with me for a few months, since the pre-release screenings of Defcon One started last December. That was when the studio pretty much told me if this film doesn’t shoot me straight to A-list, nothing would.

  As soon as we’re on the other side, being escorted to our private lounge in LAX, she’s chatting away on her phone trying to do damage control on what the press will surely twist into some kind of torrid ongoing affair between Courtney and me. And that’s exactly how Courtney would like it. Ever since I tossed her to the curb when I found out she was using, she’s tried her best to be connected with me every chance she gets.

  Not that anyone seems to mind except Kendra and me. Hell, the studio and even my own manager drool over it. Everyone wants to see the leading man and woman get together. Sex sells. And off-screen sex sells even more.

  After being secretly boarded through a side door into our first-class seats, I snag a seat by the window, wanting to get some shuteye on the five-hour flight to New York. Courtney sits down next to me and I roll my eyes and let my head fall back onto the seat as I reach for my earbuds.

  “Courtney,” Kendra says, coming up to stand beside her, “I really need to borrow Thad for a while. I have tons of interviews to prepare him for. Would you mind?” The two women participate in a stare down.

  Courtney huffs and picks up the small bag she had tucked under the seat in front of her. “Fine.” She looks around for an empty seat, finally taking the one next to Hayden, the actor who portrayed my arch enemy in the movie, but who is probably the closest thing I have to a true friend at this point. With the exception of Kendra maybe, but I’m paying her so she doesn’t really count.

  I think back to the last time in my life I had genuine friends. Friends who liked Chad Stone, the kid who liked to play basketball. The kid who shaved the neighbor’s cat as a practical joke one Halloween. The kid who didn’t have an eight-figure bank account thanks not only to a random discovery by a talent scout in a shopping mall of all places, but also to inheriting a shitload of money from his grandparents.

  Nine years. That’s how long it’s been since I haven’t had to question the motives of anyone who speaks to me. That’s how long it’s been since I’ve had a best friend who doesn’t share my last name. Ethan and Kyle, my two brothers, became my best friends when I was sixteen, after I left the only two people I’d never be able to replace when my parents moved me across the country. But my brothers both reside back in New York City now which makes it hard to see them as much as I’d like. And knowing I’m on my way there, that the Manhattan premiere of Defcon One will allow me to hang out with them for two straight weeks, almost makes having to put up with that bitch, Courtney, worth it.

  Every time I think of my brothers, I long for the normalcy they have. The practicality of a nine-to-five job that doesn’t hang in the balance if they say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, or put on a few pounds. A job that allows them to go to the goddamn grocery store without being mobbed by paparazzi and psychotic fans. Don’t get me wrong, I love the fans—most of them. It’s the fans who have put me where I am today, and it’s the fans who will decide if I stay here. But some of them just go too far and ruin it for everyone.

  I love acting. It’s a job I never dreamed of pursuing. Hell, I’d only ever acted one time in a sappy play back in high school. For all I knew, I was going to teach high school history. Or maybe college. I hadn’t decided yet. But acting? No, that was Mallory’s dream—not mine.

  Mallory. I close my eyes and sigh. I try not to think about her anymore. She represents everything that was ever normal in my life. Everything that is the opposite of who I’ve become. The man who is Thad Stone. Sometimes the line between Thad and Chad becomes blurred. Sometimes I wish I could just become that history teacher who goes home to his wife and kids at the end of every day. But I know it’s not possible. First, because I do enjoy my profession—if you take away the rabid fans, the overbearing press, and the general upheaval of normal existence. And second, because there is only one person I could ever see myself coming home to and she wrote me off years ago. Who can blame her after all the things I’ve done? After the mess I’ve made of my life.

  “You okay, Thad?” Kendra asks, touching my forearm in a motherly way even though she’s only five years my senior.

  “Yeah,” I say, shaking off unproductive thoughts of the past. “Thanks for saving me from the queen bitch of the universe again. Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

  “Ha! I wish,” she says.

  I laugh off her comment. “You do not. I think Todd would have something to say about that.”

  She shakes her head in amusement, her beautiful short auburn hair bounc
ing around her chin.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Do you know you’re the only one of my clients who even knows my husband’s name?”

  “Get the fuck out of here,” I say.

  “Really,” she says, nodding.

  I ponder it for a second before saying, “Do you know you’re the only publicist who would give me the time of day last December?”

  “Actually, I did know that,” she says, shrugging. “But I’d been following your career since Malibu 310 and saw great potential there. I also saw a kid thrust into the public eye who didn’t have the first clue about how to deal with it. People make bad choices, Thad, but that doesn’t make them bad people.”

  I nod, pretending to agree with her. But I know better. The things I’ve done follow me around like stink on shit, and Kendra is a saint to deal with all of it. She took a chance on me. I know that. And I don’t plan on letting her down. I’m different now. I know the studio and the fans see Thad Stone as the ultimate bad boy of Hollywood, but that hasn’t been who I am for a long time now. And they will all have to fucking deal with it.

  “So, you’re not staying at The Waldorf with the rest of us?” she asks. “Paul said you’d be staying with your brother, Ethan. You know the ramifications, right?”

  “You can bet Paul made sure I knew the studio would only provide security if I followed their strict guidelines. Don’t worry, Cole is flying in later today. He’ll be here in time for the premiere.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

  “Hear what? That my manager tore into me—again. Or that I hired my own bodyguard?”

  She laughs. “Thad, Paul tearing into you is nothing new. If he went one day without reading you the riot act, I would think he had developed a fever or something. I’m glad you decided to hire Cole. He’s good. Better than studio security for sure. Are you going to make it permanent?”

  “I’m not sure yet. This is still all so new to me. I mean, back when I did Malibu, everything was different. The fans were different. Not so goddamn scary.”

  “That’s because they were all adolescent girls,” she jokes. “And that’s the difference between the small screen and the silver screen.”

  I nod. “I guess I’m not quite ready to completely give up my independence. This could be a one-time thing, you know.”

  Kendra looks at me like I’m crazy. “Thad, you saw what happened at the L.A. premiere. And the London one. And you’ve already signed on for the sequel, and then there is Blind Shot which everyone is saying will be just as big as Defcon One. And then next year, Dark Tunnels—they gave you that role, Thad. Things like that don’t happen to B-listers. You no longer have to audition for parts. When are you going to realize that you’ve made it to the big time?” She pats my hand. “It’s time to talk to Cole about making it permanent. Besides, I hear Greyson James uses him, too. You need to beat him to the punch if Cole is who you want.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I say to placate her. But deep down, I believe all the craziness surrounding the Defcon One release will die out. Then I’ll be yesterday’s news. Just like after they canceled Malibu.

  “So, how is that adorable nephew of yours?” she asks. “Eli, right?”

  I proudly whip out my phone and show her the latest pictures of Ethan’s three-month-old son. “You know, I could say the same thing about you,” I tell her. “You are the only person working for me who knows the name of everyone in my family.”

  She smiles. “It’s my job to know that stuff, Thad.”

  “I suppose,” I say, nodding to my phone. “But it’s not your job to pretend to be interested in them.”

  “Pretend?” she asks, abhorrently. “I was going to ask when I could get my hands on the little guy.”

  “Really?” I furrow my brow at her.

  “I love babies,” she says.

  My face falls. She sees my expression and laughs. “Don’t worry,” she says. “Todd and I are very happy with the status quo. Between our burgeoning careers, we are in no position to have kids any time soon. You’re stuck with me for at least the next five years or so. If you want me, that is.”

  I feel a huge sense of relief. Kendra is the only person in this business who truly seems to care about me and not her own status or bank account. “Thanks,” I say. “Maybe I could arrange for you to have dinner with us at Ethan’s penthouse one night.”

  “That would be fantastic,” she says, handing me a pillow the flight attendant brought by. “Here, get some rest, you’re going to need it. The next week is going to be crazy—starting with tonight.”

  ~ ~ ~

  I’m still on a high from the premiere. Still reeling over the fact that it was me up on that screen. I was used to seeing myself on TV when I did Malibu. But this—watching the premiere of my movie, seeing my name first up on that screen instead of fourth, ninth or twenty-second as in the three previous films I’ve done—this is surreal.

  Walking the red carpet to the third premiere of Defcon One was even more insane than the previous two. With each subsequent screening, the film has garnered more attention, the fans have come out in bigger droves, the paparazzi presence has quadrupled. I was grateful not only for the studio security, but for Cole Wilcox, who dropped everything to fly out and be part of my entourage for the next few weeks.

  Now, as Ethan, Kyle and I exit the limo to be escorted into the after-party at a famous Manhattan club, I look down the sidewalk to see screaming fans twenty deep, and I think maybe Kendra is right. Maybe it is time to talk to Cole about coming on full-time.

  I see some girls holding out pictures of me, begging me to autograph them. I send Ethan and Kyle inside and turn to my bodyguard. “Cole.” I nod to the fans.

  He speaks into the small microphone attached to his cuff, presumably telling the rest of the security team our plans. Then he walks me over to the girls. “Mr. Stone will sign a few autographs and pose for some pictures as long as you remain orderly.”

  Girls scream my name and trample each other to get closer to me. So much for remaining orderly. I purposefully only choose the ones who aren’t being aggressive. I quickly sign my name to a few dozen photos, a couple of shirts, even one lady’s bare arm. Cole grabs a few of the phones being shoved at me and takes some pictures of me with various girls.

  The local police do a good job of not letting anyone past the barriers on either side of the club entrance. One of my biggest fears is being mobbed with no place to go. I think the phobia stems from when I was filming inside a cave for several weeks. I’ve been somewhat claustrophobic ever since. Now, the crush of fans triggers that same feeling. I’ve seen fans get downright violent, ripping clothing to shreds to get a small piece of something belonging to an actor without any concern for the safety and sanity of the object of their obsession.

  My breathing speeds up and sweat trickles down my brow on this cool evening. Cole has only worked for me a few times before, but he can already sense when I’ve had enough. “Thank you all for coming out! Mr. Stone is needed inside!” Cole yells into the boisterous crowd.

  I turn to wave goodbye to the crowd when I catch a glimpse of some disturbance beyond the first few rows of screaming women. I think my eyes have betrayed me. I have to squint to make sure I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing. There is a girl caught up in the crowd who looks like she’s trying to get farther away when everyone around her is trying to get closer to me. She looks lost, the sea of women around her swallowing her small body whole as she tries to escape what looks to be the last place on earth she wants to be. When she looks over at me and our eyes meet, my fucking heart slams into my chest wall.

  It’s her. I know it’s her. It’s been nine years but I’d know her anywhere. I know every curve of her face, every location of every freckle on her arms. I know because I counted them all one day when I was eight years old. I told her she must have a hundred. She doubted that was true, so I sat her down on the curb in front of my house and counted them. One hundred and twelv
e freckles on her arms if you count the ones from her fingers up to her shoulders. “Mal?” I say, more of a question to myself because she’d never hear me over the screaming crowd.

  I think she must be some kind of aberration. A dream I conjured up on the plane ride over. But then her lips move, and I think she says my name. My real name. Not the name she made up for me when she was six years old. Not the name I use to this day as my stage name. No, I could swear she says, “Chad.”

  And then, probably because I’m frozen in place and people see it as an opportunity, girls start to jump over the barricade, police being overcome by dozens of them as Cole swiftly moves me towards the door and out of harm’s way. I work against him, trying to get over to Mallory, or to the person I believe to be her, because I never thought in a million years I’d see her again. Not after the shame I brought upon myself. Not after I let her down so horribly by becoming the person I was. But Cole outweighs me by a good fifty pounds and could probably bench press me for pure entertainment. So despite my best efforts, I’m no match for his professional training and he’s able to wrangle me indoors.

  Once I’m safely inside the club, Cole lets me go and Kendra runs over to me, apparently having watched the entire debacle. “What just happened out there, Thad?”

  The whole scene replays in my mind and I realize what Kendra is asking. I’m sure I was caught on camera looking like a deer in headlights. Oh shit. I wonder if anyone realized who I was looking at, because if so, I may have just put her in danger.

  “I thought I saw someone,” I tell her.

  “Who?” she asks. “Who do you think you saw that would make you react that way?”

  I close my eyes and sigh, and then I tell her the truth that I’ve only ever admitted to myself. “The only girl I’ve ever loved.”