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Going Down Hard (Doing Bad Things Book 1)

Page 9

by Jordan Marie


  I’m probably going to get fired and then be blacklisted on the Hollywood scene. I’ll probably have to go back cutting hair on the strip, or maybe worse. That’s all Gavin’s fault too. I’m standing outside when the Uber driver pulls up, I get in, and as soon as my door closes, the guy takes off. I can see Gavin coming outside as we pull away. I recline back in the seat, hoping he doesn’t see me. I only need enough time to get to his place and get my stuff before he follows me.

  I nervously look out the back window the entire ride to Gavin’s. I don’t see his old pickup anywhere so I’m counting that as a win. I pay the driver and walk off without much more than a thank you. I make a beeline for the bedroom, picking my satchel up off the floor, and putting it on the bed. I don’t take the time to fold my clothes, I throw them inside the bag as best I can. I go for the items I like the most, knowing there’s no way I’ll get everything to fit in there. That too is Gavin’s fault.

  I get all the clothes in that I can, then I go to the bathroom and get my blow dryer and other items. I stop at the bathroom door, my eyes going wide when I see Gavin standing by the bed.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks like the idiot he is. Does he really think I owe him any explanation? He doesn’t and I don’t respond. Instead, I go to the bed and throw the things I gathered from the bathroom in my bag. The thing is way too full to zip and I don’t bother. I walk to the dresser to find my keys and immediately take off the key to Gavin’s house that he gave me. “I asked you a question, Casey,” he says, his voice is quiet, but dark and full of warning.

  Asshole.

  I walk over to him. I had dried my tears on the way over here, and I hate that the anger inside of me makes me want to cry again, but I try my best to hold those back. He doesn’t deserve my tears.

  He doesn’t deserve anything from me.

  “Here’s your key,” I tell him, holding out the key to his home. He stares at it, but doesn’t make a move to take it from me. “Whatever, asshole.” I mutter tossing the key on the floor. I pick up my bag—which isn’t easy, it’s damn heavy. Gavin stands there like the asshole he is. If he was a real man he’d offer to at least take the bag to my car for me. Then again, if he was a real man he wouldn’t be making a stupid bet on if he could get in my pants.

  Damn if that thought doesn’t make tears sting my eyes again.

  “That’s it then?” he asks once I have my back turned to him.

  “That’s it,” I answer, unnecessarily.

  “You can walk away from what we have that easily?”

  “You don’t get to make me the bad guy here, asshole!” I growl at him, turning around despite knowing I shouldn’t. The first rule when dealing with idiots is do not engage.

  “Asshole, another colorful nickname to add to all the others you’ve given me,” he says and I truly can’t believe him. Is this nothing but a joke to him? He’s crushed my heart and he wants to talk about stupid crap like this?

  “This one fits better than any of the others!” I growl and before I can question my sanity or think better of it, I take my bag and hurl it at him. It’s damn heavy and I can’t throw it far, but there’s enough weight to it, it should at least have thrown him off balance. Instead he catches it like he was expecting it. My favorite blow dryer in the world bounces out of the opened top and crashes onto the floor. The diffuser attached to it breaks off and skids a good ten feet away, it’s probably useless now. I paid two hundred bucks for that thing to help me get my curls under control. It will never work again. That’s his fault too! “I hate you!” I scream like a child, but I’m tired, I’m hurt, and I’m too upset to worry about being the bigger person here.

  “I love you,” he responds calmly and I want to kill him. How dare he? He doesn’t get to pull this shit on me. Not now—not ever.

  I throw myself at him, my hands curl into fists and I beat on his chest, in my rage. “I hate you! I hate you! You don’t get to say that to me!” I shriek out the words like weapons, still beating on his body anywhere I can. I’m lost in my anger. Through the haze I realize he has tossed my bag back on the bed, but he doesn’t try to defend his body from my blows. He stands there and takes it and that makes me hate him more. It’s like I don’t even matter enough to try! “You don’t know what love is! You’re a fucking asshole! You bet on me like I was a damn—”

  I break off when he grabs my hands forcefully and growls loudly.

  “You’re everything!” he yells back, but I ignore him. I’m too busy trying to pull away from him to care what he says. It’s just another lie. It was all lies!

  “All you do is lie!” I hurl at him, jerking away.

  “I’m not lying. Not about this. Not about you, Casey. I never have.”

  “You bet on if you could…could—”

  “It was stupid and it was childish, I admit it, Casey. I don’t have any defense. I should have never done it. I wish like hell I could go back and change things—”

  “The hell you do! I hate you! You’re pathetic!”

  “You don’t hate me. Casey, please. Let’s talk calmly about this. I love you,” he responds and that’s enough I can’t hear him say that again.

  “You don’t love me! I should have known better than to trust you. I should have. I loved you for years and you didn’t even know I existed. You walked away from me years ago without a backwards glance! How I could forget that and let you get to me again…”

  “You loved me?”

  “I was a stupid kid! I don’t even have that defense now! You think I would have grown smarter over the years. Apparently not!”

  “Casey. You love me?” Gavin says, and oh God, but I hate him so much in that moment. I haven’t been keeping track of what I say to him. I want to get away.

  “Let me go!” I yell, tired of trying to get free on my own. I don’t want to hear more of his lies. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to be around him.

  “No!” he growls and this time it’s a deeper growl. A deadly growl. The kind of sound that makes me freeze in my tracks. “I’m not letting you go Casey. I’m never letting you go. You’re the only thing that matters in my life,” he exclaims, and his eyes are boring into me. He looks serious. He sounds dangerously sincere. My breathing is out of control and my heart is beating hard against my chest, but I think it has more to do with fear.

  “I don’t believe you,” I whisper. “I’ll never believe you again.”

  “Then I’ll keep saying it until one day you finally do, but you’re not leaving me, Casey. This is not the end of us. It’s only the beginning,” he promises—or threatens, I can’t be sure at this point. I’m so tired and confused.

  “Let me go, Gavin,” I tell him, desperation bleeding through my words. I don’t think I can survive him hurting me again.

  “No. I can’t and what’s more you don’t want me to,” he tells me.

  “Please stop. You’ve already won the bet. There’s no point to all of this. Not anymore,” I tell him looking at the window across the room rather than at him.

  “Will you shut up about the fucking bet? It wasn’t about the fucking bet. It never was.”

  One of his hands lets go of me and I jerk my gaze back to him, preparing to leave. When I look at him there’s a diamond ring in his hand, the diamond so ridiculously big I can’t believe it.

  “What are—”

  “It’s not about anything but you and me, Casey. I swear. I love you. You’re it for me. I was a stupid idiot who thought he could sail through life without ever worrying about relationships or falling in love. I was happy with that. I was a bachelor for life, but one look at you and I fell and I went down hard, honey. You’re all I want. I love you. I want you to marry me.”

  “Gavin…”

  “I want to grow old with you Moth-girl. I want babies with you.”

  “Gavin…”

  “I want to be your last first date. Your last kiss. Your everything.”

  “Gavin…” I whisper again, but I
’m crying. My tears are causing the diamond he’s holding to blur.

  “I want to be all of that to you, because that’s exactly what you are to me, Casey Langley. You’re my first love and you will be my last love. Will you marry me?”

  “I don’t know what to say…”

  “Say yes, Moth-girl. Say yes,” he pleads, letting go of me and going down on his knees in front of me. “Say you’ll be my wife.”

  He’s not holding me. I could walk away. I could hold onto my doubt, my fear and the hurt. I could do all of those. But, I don’t. I do what any red-blooded American girl would do when she’s faced with the one dream she’s had since she hit puberty. The one dream that she never truly out grew.

  “Yes,” I cry, hurling myself at him and holding him with all the strength I have left in my body. I don’t even think twice about it.

  Why would I?

  I love Gavin O’Leary with all my heart. I always have and I always will.

  Epilogue

  Gavin

  Two Months Later

  “I can’t believe you’re getting married,” Titan says shaking his head. He, White, and Aden are here in Vegas with me and Casey. Kayla will be coming in later today.

  “Believe it,” I laugh, pulling Casey tighter in my lap. We’re sitting in a bar at the back of a casino. Casey’s in my lap because quite simply I can’t make myself put her down. I know how close I came to losing her, and I haven’t recovered yet. “I can’t wait,” I tell him, but I’m looking down at Casey and my words are all for her. She’s smiling up at me and I can’t resist giving her a quick kiss.

  “I can’t either,” she whispers when we break apart.

  “Damn it, Casey you let him off the hook too easily. You’re supposed to make him crawl,” Aden mutters.

  “Then that means I should make you crawl too, right? Since you proposed the bet to begin with?”

  “That wasn’t my finest hour,” he admits, looking contrite, scratching the side of his face through his beard. He’s actually looking pretty haggard. He did something that has probably never been done before. He walked off the set of the movie. He’ll probably be sued for breach of contract and a million other things, but he said he was done. He’s burned out. He has been for a while, but I can see it clearly now.

  “Speaking of that damn bet,” Titan begins…

  “God. Do we have to?” I whine. I know Casey has forgiven me, but I hate to remind her how clearly stupid the man is she’s decided to take on as her husband.

  “Well, I mean I wasn’t there, but it seems to me Aden lost. So what is he supposed to do? Pay you? Because his money might be tied up while he takes on the studio.”

  Aden flips him off, he’s not really concerned about the repercussions. He said he was packing up and leaving Hollywood and not looking back. At first I didn’t believe him, but over the last two weeks there’s a calmness about him that I haven’t seen in years.

  “We didn’t bet money,” I tell him, kissing Casey’s forehead in apology. Even though she swears she’s fine with things now, I still feel like a fucking asshole.

  “What the hell did you bet then?” White asks.

  “If I lost I was supposed to finally start working on my screenplay and stop putting off what I really wanted to do with my life.”

  “Well fuck. That might be out now, since your name is mud in town,” Titan says helpfully.

  “Not if the screenplay is a bestselling novel, first,” Casey declares, looking at all of us with a sly grin.

  “You want me to write a novel?” Aden says, but there’s something in his eyes. He likes the idea, I can tell.

  “What? Why not? Stephen King, James Patterson, Nicolas Sparks….”

  “Yeah, but I’m not them,” Aden says, watching her closely.

  “They weren’t them at one point,” she says, making me blink, but I get what she’s saying.

  “Damn. I have to say I like this idea Aden. You’re always jotting ideas, and stories. I think you can do this,” Titan says.

  “I think so too,” White agrees.

  Aden looks at me, “What do you think?”

  “I’ve learned to never argue with Casey. She’s clearly smarter than I will ever be,” I tell him honestly.

  “Well that’s true, except for agreeing to marry you, she’s definitely—”

  “Hey!” I growl, interrupting him, causing Casey to laugh.

  “So where does one go to write the next great American Novel?” Aden asks, taking a drink of his scotch.

  “Somewhere off the map. Completely secluded, because let’s face it, the press is going to be all over you,” Titan answers.

  “That’s the damn truth, they’re already breathing down your throat. I’m surprised they haven’t shown up here yet,” I sigh, hating that my buddy has to go through this shit.

  “Well, to be honest, and I’m sorry Aden, but you kind of look like shit at the moment,” Casey says helpfully.

  “Gee thanks,” he says holding up his drink in a ‘cheers’ motion.

  “Hey. I’m merely trying to keep it real,” she grins.

  “Idaho.”

  Everyone looks at Titan like he’s insane, which he might truly be.

  “Idaho?” Aden mumbles. “What the hell is in Idaho?”

  “Potatoes?” Casey asks and I have to kiss her. I mean that was cute, my woman has a smart mouth. A damn good mouth too and if she doesn’t quit squirming on my dick, I’m taking her out of here and putting it to even better use.

  “Okay what’s in Idaho besides potatoes?” Aden asks.

  “Nothing,” Titan answers. “That’s kind of the point. You need to go somewhere as far from Hollywood as you can get. I’d say farm country in the middle of nowhere Idaho is the answer.”

  “Hey, I have an idea. I have a cousin who is getting ready to open a small hotel in Idaho. She’s a good kid, been served a raw deal from life, especially after my aunt died. You could rent from her and…”

  “And give your cousin income,” Aden smirks at White.

  “Hey, she could use the help. Besides, trust me when I tell you that she’s the last person to know who you are,” White says.

  “Doubtful, since my face seems to be everywhere.”

  “I doubt Hope has ever seen a movie, especially your movies,” White responds.

  “Wouldn’t matter my face is on every news show coming or going,” Aden answers.

  “Your Hollywood face is, but honey without the makeup to hide those lines, or the hair dye that covers your gray…” Casey says.

  “You’re a cheerful basket of love today aren’t you, Casey?” Aden questions cynically.

  “I’m only stating the truth. Your beard already has more salt than pepper, darling,” Casey says dramatically, blinking her eyes.

  “You need to spank her more often,” Aden grumbles at me, but he’s smiling. For my part, I take that as my cue. I stand up, Casey still in my arms.

  “Where you going?”

  “Hey, you’re right. I need to punish my woman’s sassy mouth,” I tell Aden, with all the others laughing in the background. I turn to leave the small table we’re at.

  “I believe I said ass,” he says dryly.

  “He has a fixation with my mouth,” Casey grins up at me.

  “That I do, Moth-girl. That I do,” I agree.

  “I love you Gavin O’Leary,” she whispers as our elevator door closes.

  “And I love you Casey Langley O’Leary.”

  “I’m not an O’Leary, yet,” she answers.

  “No. But you will be,” I promise her.

  And she was.

  The End

  For a sneak peek of Hope and Aden’s story, coming your way in October 2017 and now up for preorder, turn the page!

  I did a bad thing.

  I did a really bad thing.

  I’m not a bad person, I swear. I just made a few mistakes.

  Mistake number one was agreeing to rent my hotel out to an insufferable a**hol
e, named Aden Smith.

  Mistake number two was ignoring his threats to sue me when he handed over a list of items he deemed “unacceptable”.

  Mistake number three was diving into the pool to save his life when he fell. It would have been less complicated to hide his body.

  When the hospital refuses to let me know how he is, I panic.

  Claiming to be his wife might be my biggest mistake yet—especially when he believes me!

  He might have been the one drowning, but I’m sinking in a bed of lies, going down fast—and there’s not a rescue in sight.

  IN TOO DEEP

  Special Excerpt

  Coming October 2017

  Hope

  “Is this the only hotel in Clancy?”

  I look up in shock at the door. I could have sworn I locked that door. It’s like ten o’clock at night and my brain is going in circles. I’ve watched enough true crime television to know leaving my door unlocked in the middle of the night is a recipe for disaster.

  “I believe so, yes.” I answer, looking around the counter for a weapon. He doesn’t look like an axe murderer, but then again, I’m not sure what one would look like. He’s got a beard, some crazy looking tattoos on his arm, and he’s tall and wide—kind of like my cousin White who plays football, only a little more dangerous and less good ole’ boy from Texas.

  I see a box of paperclips. Can you kill someone with paperclips? They’re the large ones, maybe I could stab his eye out… God. I’m pathetic. What kind of idiot doesn’t have some kind of weapon in her desk?

  “That’d be my luck,” he growls and his growl does sound dangerous. I frantically look one last time for a weapon and finally decide on the stapler. I know it’s pitiful, but it’s all I have.

 

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