by North, Cara
Alex narrowed his eyes again. He did that when he was pissed. She had spent the first part of this twelve-month twelve-step program on the receiving end of that glare. He had called it Resurrection Rehab, an intensive program that he had designed to break a person down to their core and then give them the tools to rebuild a more authentic self.
“She didn’t know she was coming here,” Jed pulled her in close to his side.
Shay just kept right on taking deep breaths and letting them out. She was in the worst position of her life. She had no idea what to say, what to do. She owed Alex so much for helping her get her shit together, and though he was a ruthless ass, he was the best agent she had ever had and she owed him.
Alex considered her a moment, looked at her carefully, looked at Jed’s hand on her waist and asked cautiously, “Did you talk to my dad? Does he know you are here with her?”
“Yes,” Jed said flatly.
Alex nodded. “Okay then. Bright and early, Shay.” Alex glanced at her and then looked at Jed and said, “If you want this to work you need to do the right thing, Jed. You know better than anyone what this will be like for her.”
He walked off. She had no idea what Alex meant by any of that. She was a mess of nerves and anxiety as Jed led her to the valet station. If they drove past a mall on the way to either of their places, she would have shopped till the fear stopped. Instead, they waited for the valet and he stole occasional looks at her.
Finally, he asked, “Can you drive? I have a splitting headache and I don’t feel like driving.”
“You want me to take you home? I can call a cab to get back to my place.” She was so uncertain about what was happening she wanted to give him an easy way to let her out.
“No,” he said as the car pulled up and he walked her to the driver’s side. He shut the door and leaned in and said, “I want to see it. We have to go to your place first. I know you have it. I just need to see it.”
Shay could hardly keep her breath as he made his way around the car. Harvey told him. Of course he did. It wasn’t something anyone needed to know about, but Jed wasn’t anyone, he was his nephew, his Godson. Harvey had told her not to worry about it, not to be ashamed of it. She didn’t do anything wrong. It could have been worse, and a hundred other things that made her feel better then, but didn’t work right now.
They did not speak the entire drive to her house. He looked miserable and she couldn’t help but wonder if the knowledge of her presence in a pornographic video had anything to do with it. She took the time to consider whether or not she had to do this. She could lie and say she didn’t have it, but she did, and even if she didn’t he would get it from Harvey.
“I understand if you just don’t want to see me anymore,” she said softly. “But I can’t bring it to your house and let you watch it, judge me, and then send me packing afterwards.”
“What?”
“I can’t let you do that to me.” She sniffed, tried to hold back a tear. Her embarrassment was a palpable thing.
He reached across the seat and stroked his fingers down her arm and then tugged at her fingers closest to him until she surrendered them. “I’m not getting rid of you. I’m not judging you. I just have to see it with my own eyes, Shay. I have to.”
Chapter 7
“Come, sit with me.” He patted the seat next to him on the couch. He knew this was awkward for her. Hell, it was awkward for him. He believed his Godfather. He just needed to confirm it. Some sick part of him just had to see it.
“I’m fine here,” she said in her quiet voice. His gut clenched. He hated this for her. She had to face it eventually. Thanks to his uncle, they thoroughly investigated every single person on the set and found an underage actress in the scene with Shay. The videos were pulled immediately. They could remove the one with the underage actress, including Shay, and re-release it. The company wouldn’t out Shay without outing themselves for child pornography, even if it was only by a day the girl was still seventeen. Apparently there was a limited amount released with that scene anyways because it wasn’t what they wanted to begin with.
He nodded, looked at the screen and pressed play. It was the first scene, a young woman stepped into view, the camera panned out to reveal Shay wearing a blonde wig and contacts. The butterfly tattoo had been removed from her ankle to assist with disassociating any connection to the film. Either that or it was a fake. She didn’t have one now, he knew that for sure.
She was wearing a yellow, ill-fitting teddy. It was larger than it needed to be and hiding more than it showed. She picked up a leather strap and popped it in her hand. A woman, the seventeen year old, entered the room followed by a man. Shay gave directions, then instructions, in a terrible Russian accent. She was a part of it, but removed from it. She never took off the teddy. She didn’t touch them with her body except her hands and for no longer than the time it took to push them around and into positions. She occasionally slapped the strap across her hand or thighs as she barked orders.
“The production value on this is atrocious. Look at this camera angle, who does that?” He spoke out loud his genuine disapproval of the quality of the film. The couple completed. Shay barked more directions, and then threw the strap as she walked out of the room. “It’s over.”
She was sitting on the arm of the chair, facing away from the television, away from him, and ready to leave at any moment.
“Is this the only one?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Was it your first real job?”
She nodded again.
“Shay, you have to talk to me, babe. I know this is being kept a secret, but if it comes out, you have to be able to talk about it. If not to me, then who?” He patted the couch again. He was a glutton for punishment. His head was throbbing, his woman was angry and ashamed, and he was failing to communicate that he wasn’t judging her. “Come sit with me.”
“What am I supposed to say?” she asked. “I’m ashamed of it. I can’t take it back. I had to pay my tuition. I dropped out because I couldn’t afford to stay, but I owed the college partial payment for the dorm and I didn’t have the money. My grandmother left me a lot of money when she died, but she didn’t know what was going on back then. I didn’t tell her. I didn’t tell anyone. I was embarrassed.”
“Come here, Shay.” He held his arm outstretched towards her.
“Would it make a difference?” She turned and looked at him. Anger blazed in those green eyes.
“Would what make a difference?”
“If I had taken my clothes off and fucked someone, Jed! Would it have made a difference? Huh? Because I almost did. I was supposed to. I didn’t, but I was supposed to,” she shouted. She put her hands over her face and cried. “You wouldn’t be asking me to come and sit next to you then, would you?”
He thought so. He knew the moment his uncle told him she had participated in a pornographic film his first thought was something had to have happened for her to resort to it. Then Harvey advised him not to judge her, but he thought it would be best for both of them to get it out in the open since she was wearing that hoodie.
He wanted to smile, but couldn’t. “Shay, celebrities are getting caught on camera fucking someone every week anymore. Hell, you’d probably get work faster if you told everyone based on what they are doing with television these days. I wasn’t your first. I’m man enough to admit that I would have been jealous as hell to see you fucking someone else, but I’m old enough to know that you have.”
His head was pounding, his stomach lurched. He had been feeling like shit since talking with a casting director at the barbecue. She had mentioned after shaking his hand, pulling him into a hug, and kissing his cheek that she wasn’t feeling so hot and that her children were home with the flu. It was probably Karma for telling her she should be home with them rather than at his mother’s barbecue.
He was sure his face must have expressed his discomfort because she wiped her tears and said, “Jed, are you all right?”
<
br /> He stood and ran to the bathroom. He made it in time to empty his guts into the commode. He didn’t have time to lock the door behind him. She was almost to the door when he used his foot to shut it. She banged on the door and called his name as he heaved another section of his stomach into the commode.
He had been in some terrible places in the past couple of years, but even when he was afraid he might die, he never felt like he actually was. His legs shifted as he heaved again and the door opened. If he could trade places, he would gladly show her a pornographic film where he didn’t take off his clothes but gave people directions in a bad Russian accent rather than have her witness him on his knees, heaving his guts up, and feeling unsure if he could stand on his own steam.
“Go away,” he said as he pushed his arm out and waved blindly in her direction.
He groaned as he flushed the last round of his guts down the commode. He could hear the rustling of clothing. He knew she just pulled off his sweatshirt. Then the sink turned on.
“I don’t want you to see me like this, go damn it!” He had emptied his guts and the next heave hurt like hell as nothing really came up. “Fuck!”
“Let me get this straight,” Shay said as she pressed a cold wet washcloth to the back of his neck. “You can watch the most humiliating moment of my life, but I can’t watch you toss your dinner?”
“Exactly,” he groaned. “You don’t understand. I don’t get sick. I…”
She waited until the next dry heave was over before placing her hand on his forehead. “You have a fever. I thought you just had a headache. When did you start feeling bad?”
“Polly, her kids have the…” he heaved, groaned, “flu.”
“I need to tell your sister. You held Buddy and she’s pregnant. They will be a mess if they catch it.”
He appreciated her concern for his family. It touched his heart. Right before he felt like he was throwing it up.
“Pocket,” he said as he tried deep breaths.
Her hands were on him, feeling around for his phone. He was puking his guts out and his dick still responded. She pulled out the phone and said, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you weren’t wearing underwear. I just felt something hard and only after grabbing it realized it wasn’t the phone. What’s the password?”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was not something he wanted to say out loud. He had only recently changed it from one woman’s name to the other. It had been Dana, his high school sweetheart’s name since he had a phone that required a password. Now it was, “Shay.”
“Yes,” she picked up the washcloth and turned it over. Patiently she said, “What, Jed? Tell me what you need and then tell me the password.”
“The password is Shay.”
***
Shay was sure her world had taken a turn for the surreal. Jed wasn’t repelled by her video, and that only made it harder for her because she was trying to figure out how to stop letting him past her walls. He was a stealth bomber, exploding through them without any warning. She typed in her own name and scrolled through the contacts until she found his sister’s name.
“Janice, hi. This is Shay. Jed needed me to call you to tell you that Patty…”
“Polly,” he corrected then dry heaved again.
“I’m sorry, Polly has the flu. He is throwing up now, so it is fast acting. He picked up Buddy. I don’t know if that woman is still there, but he wanted me to tell you.”
Janice was grateful. She was also there with Frankie and Jed’s mom. Helen Gunner did not take the news that a casting director was giving her guests, especially her son, the flu very well. Shay said goodbye and ended the call.
“Your mom is pissed,” she said as she sat the phone on the counter. She picked up the washcloth and ran cool water over it again. “We need to get you to bed.”
The task was easier said than done. Shay looked at the man hugging the commode as his back arched, strained, and nothing hit the water in the toilet. It had to hurt like hell. She stroked his back and he groaned in agony. “Come on, Jed. I’ll carry the trash can. It has a liner in it. If you need to stop, you can.”
He weakly protested with, “Go home, Shay.”
“No.” She slid her hands to his chest and pulled up. She would likely throw her back out if he didn’t get with the program. “You wanted me here. You wanted to see the ugly parts of my life. Now, you are going to show me the ugly parts of yours. Get up, Jed. I can’t very well carry you.”
He pushed weakly onto trembling legs. He didn’t look at her. She grabbed the trashcan and walked with him. He made it half way up the stairs before he had to stop and throw up. At least this time something came up. Maybe the walk helped shake it up in there. Maybe he was throwing up stomach acid. Either way, he was pitiful to look at. He practically crawled the rest of the way up the stairs.
Her heart ached for him. He sat on the bed and she pulled his t-shirt over his head. It was soaked in sweat. She handed him the cool cloth and he wiped his face and beard with it. She sighed. He was supposed to put it on his neck or forehead. She touched his face. He was burning up, but shivering like he was cold. “Let me prop these pillows up behind you.”
“I sleep on that side.”
“Not tonight,” she said gently. He lay back against the pillows. She pulled the button free on his cargo shorts and then undid the zipper. She pulled his pants down and off ignoring the fact that he was again growing hard because she was touching him. She was sure this was not how he planned the night to go. “Which drawer has your underwear in it?”
He pointed to the dresser as if that explained it. As she moved to the dresser she heard the rustling of the bed linen. After locating a pair of boxers for him she turned only to find him cozied up under the blankets with his eyes closed and sleep taking over.
She placed the boxers on the nightstand, pulled the liner from the wastebasket, and went to the bathroom to replace it with another one.
Shay removed the evidence of her disgrace, broke it, and placed it in the trash with the evidence of his. She found some disposable gloves under the kitchen sink with other cleaning supplies. She put a pair on and took the trash out. As she was returning she noticed a limo pulling up in front of the house. Helen Gunner didn’t wait for the driver. She was already out of the car and on her way to the door when she saw Shay.
“Shay, dear!” The woman smiled. “How is my baby?”
“He has the flu, I’m sure of it,” she said as she made her way to where the woman was standing. She noticed the glass container and asked, “Soup?”
“I keep it on hand in the freezer. I can pop it out and heat it up,” she said. “How are you feeling, dear?”
“I’m just fine.” Shay said it as she had practiced with Alex when confronted with an awkward situation. She had tossed the disposable gloves with the trash and now wondered if she was supposed to shake hands or…she wasn’t sure what to think or expect. His family had been overwhelmingly positive in their response to her. She wasn’t used to it.
They entered the house and Helen handed Shay the bowl. “Try a cup at a time, dear. Just a sip until he can hold it down long enough for another sip. Then keep trying it every half hour he keeps it down until he can drink a whole cup. But not tonight. The first eight hours are the worst. I could strangle Poppy for this. Not ten minutes after you called my grandson started complaining of a headache. I’m heading to Janice’s house next.”
Shay stood there holding the container of soup for several moments after Helen Gunner disappeared up the stairs. The fact that the woman was there tending her oldest son, a man over forty, and then would be going to see her grandson said a lot about her commitment to family.
After placing the soup in the refrigerator she headed to the room. Jed must have made another bathroom run since the boxers were off the nightstand and nowhere to be seen. He was sleeping. His mother didn’t stand close to him, likely because she was going to see Buddy Junior afterwards.
She smiled at Shay and said, “T
hat beard. He’s had it since he was eighteen. The year after Dana died he grew it out, quit acting, quit college…I thought he was going to quit life for a while. You have no idea how hard it is to mother such an independent and emotionally deep child like Jed. I was so relieved when he started taking an interest in the behind the camera activities. Then he started working for a few places doing documentaries. Next thing I know, he’s grown, gallivanting all over the world in the most dangerous places…”
She put her hand to her heart and took a moment to collect her emotions before she continued in a very Harvey Agency fashion letting Shay know that Harvey was indeed his mother’s older brother. “Take care of my baby, Shay. If you need me to come back here, you just call. I’m going to head on over and take some soup to Janice. Both of her boys are down. She’s wearing a facemask and trying to handle them and not get sick herself. My poor little girl. You know, no matter how they are, when you have children they are always going to be your babies.”
“Is Frankie okay?” Shay asked. She didn’t want to shatter the illusion of good mothers being everywhere.
“That’s right, you know Frankie.”
Shay nodded.
“She and Jonas are both fine,” Helen smiled. She started to say something, but then stopped. She settled on, “I’ll leave my number on the counter downstairs.”
***
At some point in the night she fell asleep. The moment she heard him wrenching his guts up in the bathroom she bolted upright and almost fell off the foot of the bed where she had apparently been napping.
He stumbled back into the bedroom and crawled into the bed. Shay moved to cover him and he touched her arm at her elbow and then slid his hand down to hers. He pulled at her until she was sitting in the bed with him. He moved and adjusted in the bed until he had his head in her lap.
Shay grabbed the pillows, flipping them over as she did, to avoid his germs the best she could. She leaned against them, still sitting up more than lying down, and began to stroke his hair. He was too hot for his covers. She knew that would not last. He was asleep within moments and within an hour he was shivering cold. It went on like that. She fed him soup. She covered him when he was cold and she uncovered him when he was hot. She found herself sitting in the bed stroking his hair, his back, his beard every time he returned.
