Saving This (The McCallans #5)

by Hadley Quinn

  Chuckling, she placed the last two drumsticks on the baking pan and shoved it into the oven. “I’m happy for you, you know.”

  Max scoffed. “Happy for what? I take up my brother’s offer to escape for a bit, and then I insult another one of his friends. I can’t win no matter what.”

  “I find it interesting that you’re more determined to talk about this than you are about the shit with your dad. Tell you anything?”

  “Of course it fucking does.”

  “Then don’t be a dumbass. Find Anna and apologize.”

  “It’s not so simple.”

  “Why? I bet you five grand it is.” She leaned across the counter as her eyes pinned him with the challenge.

  “You’re serious?”

  “Yes I’m fucking serious.”

  Max scoffed with a laugh. “I don’t want your money, princess.”

  “Ha! But I want yours. So it’s a deal?” She held her hand out and waited.

  Again Max mocked her insistence. And it wasn’t that he was refusing to make amends with Anna; he was only considering how much he had at stake personally if he did.

  “There are more just like her,” he answered, trying to dismiss the vulnerability he felt in his chest. “I’m not going to waste my time on someone who expects me to conform to her idea of how she thinks I should be. I’ve already spent my whole life dealing with that kind of crap.”

  Kellie eyed him over the mug of hot tea she was now sipping. He knew that look, and even though his cousin had a heart of gold, she could be facetious as hell.

  However, she didn’t make a response to his poor attempt at trying to convince himself he was being objective. He knew he wasn’t because Anna had already proven that she wasn’t like anyone else he’d met.

  Kellie set down her tea with smugness. “Fine, guess I won’t tell you if Tate and I are having a boy or a girl.”

  He slammed his hand down on the counter in protest. “That is so not fair! You’re the worst person in the world!”

  “I know, and I love it!” Kellie burst out laughing.

  Shaking his head, Max replied, “You know I love you, but I can’t have that as an excuse.”

  “An excuse for what?” She cocked an eyebrow, just waiting for him to admit it out loud. When he didn’t, she yelled, “Ha! I knew you were going to anyway!”

  “Going to do what anyway?”

  “Beg for her mercy.”

  “Pssh, fuck no. I won’t beg for anyone’s mercy.” He tapped the paper between them. “Fax that to Andrew and he’ll take care of it, ‘kay?”

  She pursed her lips, making a horrible effort at not smiling. “Anything you say, lover boy.”

  “Shut up.”

  She busted up in laughter again as he headed for the door. “I love you, Max!”

  “Love you, too.” He feigned annoyance and rolled his eyes, but she only laughed louder.

  When he stepped outside, he paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. He knew why he made a special trip to see Kellie. He’d wanted to check on her in person, but he also needed her love and support. If anyone could be completely honest with him, she was the one. Deep down, he also knew he wanted her encouragement. He’d needed her to say out loud what he couldn’t himself and she didn’t disappoint.

  As Max pulled open the door to his Maserati, Tate’s truck came up the driveway so he decided to wait for him.

  “Hey, man, how’s it going?” Tate called as soon as his Vans hit the driveway. They both met each other halfway.

  Tate Sullivan was an inch taller than Max. Light brown hair, striking green eyes, strong; the guy was tattooed and a damn good-looking fella. It was unfortunate he couldn’t just play himself in the movie that Max had titled Immovable Valor.

  “Just being a pain in the ass to your wife,” he replied.

  Tate nodded, seeming to know there was something more, but he didn’t push it. “Stay for dinner.”

  “I can’t, I have a pretty important meeting to head to.”

  Tate barely bobbed his head, but there seemed to be an uncomfortable lull between them. Max knew why. He’d sent the screenplay to Tate to seek his opinion. Neither of them had made mention of it since, and it was starting to weigh on him. He’d never felt so wide open before and he didn’t know how to approach the subject.

  “So you hated it?” Max finally asked. Might as well get it out there.

  Tate’s smirk and shrug of his shoulders was misleading. “I have to say… I think you’re a talented writer. It’s obvious, man.”

  That didn’t seem too convincing. At face value, yes. But he didn’t understand Tate’s body language. He seemed reluctant.

  “But?”

  Both eyebrows raised as Tate took another pause. “But nothing. It’s the honest truth. It’s a killer script. I really mean it.”

  “Is something out of place? Am I missing anything that’s imperative to the story?”

  Tate lightly laughed. “No, man, seriously you’re not. I’m just… It’s weird, you know? Seeing all of that in an actual, you know, story. I’m fucking proud of it, but I just… Now that you’ve gone as far as you have with it, I just hope it’s carried out right. Does that make sense?”

  Max smiled because he understood completely. When you collaborate on a creative idea that is important to all parties, there was so much potential that needed to be exercised. “Which is why I’ve asked you repeatedly if you’d consult on the filming. I see things my way of course, and you know I promised I’d stick to the facts and wouldn’t sensationalize anything. I give you my word, Tate. I gave it to you from the start.”

  “I trust you,” he nodded. “I’m just saying it’s somewhat bizarre. You took what I wrote down and…turned it into an actual movie. And I know you may interpret some of it different when you lay it out there for the big screen, I don’t have a problem with that, but just reading it was hard enough.”

  This time Max wasn’t so perceptive. “I’m not following. It was hard to read?”

  Tate shoved his hands into his pockets and gazed toward the house like he needed the distraction. “It was tough for me to read. Because it was real. I lived it. And I’m still living it.” He paused for several beats before releasing a heavy exhale as he faced Max again. “What I’m saying is…it’s hard enough reading about it and I don’t think I’d be able to be there to consult on anything. I’m not ready to be that close to it all, even if it is just a reenactment. I can’t afford any unnecessary triggers. Things are good here. I have a baby on the way and…I don’t want to regress right now. My night terrors are only coming every six weeks or so. That’s amazing progress for me so far. I don’t want it to change. For Kellie. For the baby. I need to be stronger than that.”

  There was a particular mood Max felt from hearing that. For one, he felt guilty. He’d never meant for any of it to be hard for Tate. The guy had willingly pushed his journals into his hands so Max could get a better understanding of the story he’d wanted to portray. Now he felt like an asshole for even asking him to read the script.

  But he also felt grateful. Tate really had come a long way in the past couple of years, but the guy had been truly intent on giving Max an inside look at his life. It was probably the most selfless thing a person had ever done for him.

  Feeling that amount of gratitude wash over him, Max did his best to keep it under control. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for me,” he told him sincerely.

  Shaking his head, Tate answered, “Nah. No thanks needed. I respect the fact that you wanted to do something outside the box. There are so many war stories out there, and even some with the after-effects on a person, but what you did was so much more than what I’ve ever seen. You not only touched on the individual lives that are affected, but to every extent. I’m tremendously grateful because you are giving so many people an inside look at what PTSD sufferers go through, and what their loved ones go through. I don’t care that it was my story—I’m actually honored—but I�
��m glad you’re digging deep to go for something unique. You’re an artist. You have the right to try your hand at whatever you want. Keep going with it, okay? Sometimes you gotta sacrifice more than you expect but…it’s worth it. Go with your gut.”

  That advice was much needed at this point, but Max still had a lot to work through. “Noted,” was all he replied with a nod.

  With that, Tate chuckled knowingly. “No, it’s not easy. But we’re here for you. You know that, right? I get that your challenges are different than mine, but they’re still challenges nonetheless. Understand?”

  Max nodded, gave Tate a fist bump, and told him to take care. There’s something to be said about driving forces; when a person undoubtedly feels compelled to move forward with changes that will for sure rock a large amount of people. Maybe not in a way that will blow up box office sales, but he was still expecting something from the public because of his name. He was hoping to God it was going to be for the right reasons, but there would for sure be a mix of cynics who didn’t matter.

  Complacency is never a successful position to be in. His father had taught him that, and it was a lesson he knew well. Max stood by his own decisions one hundred percent, even though they were going to cause a landslide of reaction.

  But maybe an earthquake was required in order to rebuild…

  ***

  “You know I’m not giving you the info until you fess up, dude,” Cole chided over the phone. “I need some extra cash, give me something for the tabloids.”

  Amused, Max chuckled as he entered his house. Gretchen gave him a curt nod but scurried up the stairs with a hanger full of his freshly pressed shirts. He immediately saw Joe stand up in the sitting room—complete with a displeased frown—and Jillian appeared from somewhere down the hall, waiting for some sort of instruction like an obedient puppy.

  “Whatever, funny guy,” he replied to Cole, and then shook his head at Joe to assure him he didn’t need to worry, and more importantly, to just back off. He ignored Jillian entirely and she got the same hint and retreated. He had no idea what she was even doing here. She was given two weeks’ paid vacation.

  “You’re seriously gonna hold out on me?” Cole scoffed. “Okay, I’m heading to her apartment right now to ask her myself—”

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Max laughed, but he was somewhat worried the guy might actually do something like that. “She’s just… She’s just someone I met and…I was kind of a prick to her. I just want to make things right.”

  “Ahh, I see.” Pause. “Well I’ll text you the address but call her first, okay? Don’t be weird.”

  Max laughed again, knowing how straightforward Cole was but also appreciating he had a sense of humor. “No need to worry. I’ll probably just send something. Talk to you later and…thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  The two hung up, and even though Max wanted to head straight upstairs to shower for his meeting in an hour, he paused in the entryway to raise his eyebrows at his security detail. Yes, the guy he’d evaded yet once again, just so he could be on his own for a couple of hours.

  After a few seconds of hesitation, Joe sighed. “You can’t keep doing that, sir. Your father would shit a brick if he knew how much you go out in public without me or Dex.”

  “I wasn’t out in public, I was at Kellie’s.”

  Joe frowned at him, but Max didn’t need a reply to know what he was thinking. His father was very adamant about keeping a security detail with him everywhere he went, if not for safety around the public, then just for driving him around. But he loved driving himself. It was hard to give up that freedom—the only kind he really had—just to cater to an image his dad wanted for him.

  “You used to just do it at night,” Joe noted. “You know, go driving. And then you disappeared out of town for a week…and now you’ve been going places in the day more often.”

  Max slowly nodded with agreement. He was right. It started out small, going for a drive in the middle of the night so he wasn’t as accessible to as many people, but then it progressed a bit. He wanted to visit Kellie and Tate without a bodyguard, and he wanted to tend to personal matters on his own when it came to private business decisions lately.

  Sensing Max’s unwillingness to respond, Joe shrugged. “Hey, you and me have known each other for six years now. Dex too. We know you well. I realize there’s stuff going on with your dad and you’re obviously branching out on your own a bit. I’ll be upfront and tell you I sense that. But whatever it is, I just want you to know I’m on your side, okay?”

  He senses it? Max wanted to scoff because he knew the guy was required to report to his dad.

  “You work for my father,” he replied dryly, the reality seeming to put a damper on just about anything, really. He truly did like Joe and Dexter, but there was a certain amount of distrust he had for anyone who was on Craig McCallan’s payroll.

  “You’re right,” Joe nodded. “So maybe I don’t have to? You’re obviously cutting some ties… I’d rather not be one of them. I’d take a pay cut, man. Think about it?”

  Max had a tough time discerning intentions sometimes. Even though he trusted he was in good hands with Joe, he was still reluctant to make any promises to someone he worried would be more loyal to his father in the long run. And he couldn’t put it past his dad to slip a little something under the table for someone’s loyalty.

  “I don’t know at this point,” Max answered honestly. “And why would you take a pay cut? Don’t devalue yourself, Joey. And I can always recommend you for something good, okay?”

  It was obvious that wasn’t what he preferred to hear, but Joe nodded as he passed by Max for the hallway. “Yes, sir. Holler if you need me after your meeting.”

  Max stood in the sitting room for a moment, running the conversation through his head for a minute. Then an idea struck him, and the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was necessary.

  He made a decision at that moment and sent Cole a text as he headed for the library to prepare for his pre-production meeting.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Max sat in the back seat of the family’s limo with Joe at the wheel and Dexter next to him. They’d been in Hollywood for another aspect of work—a small post-production press gathering for a previous movie that was still lingering at the top of box office sales. It was a standard event and already known to the public, which required security. Now Joe was waiting for instructions on where to go next. He was appearing anxious, fully aware that a group of fans in the distance had seen them climb into the car. They were now getting bolder with how close they came.

  The windows were completely blacked out on the car, so Max knew they couldn’t see him. But as he stared across the street, he felt that wave of isolation and loneliness hit. It was the same feeling he got when he didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to a crowd. Fake it, fake it, fake it was what he always felt inside. He didn’t like the attention and he didn’t like the spotlight, but he’d been trained to give the public what they wanted when it was required of him. That was the façade he’d delivered less than thirty minutes ago inside. It was a role he’d been playing well for a very long time.

  He loved making movies, but he could do without the publicity. There could be a crowd of thousands wanting to be around him, but it was still the loneliest feeling in the world.

  Right now, as the group of people on the sidewalk had doubled, several bodies were coming even closer to the limo. Max felt tension build instantly, just as a female evaded a police barricade to lift her shirt and press her naked breasts to the back window next to him. She got in a two-second flash before security pulled her away from the vehicle.

  Dexter snickered, but Max looked away with a disappointed sigh, trying to focus on something that would lower his stress levels right now. “Back to the mansion,” he finally ordered.

  “You sure?” Joe asked. But then he grimaced, like he knew he shouldn’t have questioned the boss, and started the car.<
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  No, it wasn’t a good idea to skip out on his dad’s dinner party that night, but there was nothing appealing about it. It was the same restaurant Teague had barged into to rip their father a new one for interfering with Camryn. Max had made an attempt to converse with his brother that night, and it had gone nowhere. But the idea of returning to that celebrity-sighting hub with his father made his blood pressure increase even more. The expectation to mingle with that crowd for the media’s sake was undesired.

  He stared at his phone again as the car began to move carefully away from spectators. He was still waiting for Kate to give him a fucking answer for when he could see Chase. She was giving him the run around, claiming it wasn’t a good week or the weekend was too busy to bother with specific plans. It was the same bullshit over and over again.

  His conversation with Joe the other night was also still rolling around in his head. Even though the guy hadn’t realized it, he’d done Max a favor by pointing out a very obvious detail. He just couldn’t trust anyone his father was associated with. And he was beginning to understand how many ties he’d actually have to sever when it was all said and done.

  Joe and Dexter would be two of them.

  On that note, Max took the ride back home in silence. Each time his phone buzzed, he glanced at the screen. If it was his father wondering why he was late, he ignored it. Shutting his phone off would be ideal, but he couldn’t miss a text from Kate if she decided to be a decent human being. And he was also hanging on to the hope that Anna would reach out, but he almost laughed at that ridiculous notion. She had no reason to and he couldn’t blame her for it. He was the one who collapsed the bridge with one defensive blow.

  But he was feeling like shit and impulsively sent her a text.

  I’m sorry

  Maybe it wouldn’t do anything to mend their friendship, but at least he felt better for doing it.

  As Max entered the mansion, his father had given up texting and was now calling instead. He was pretty sure Joe had already reported back to Craig that they weren’t going to be at the dinner.