“Things got really bad for you, didn’t they?” There was sympathy mixed with fear in her eyes.
“They did. I’ve been in a dark place for a long while.” My eyes drifted over her features. “Are you sure you want to hear it all? Most of it revolves around lots and lots of sex and drugs. I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I have.”
“I need to know it all, Zane. Otherwise I’ll sit around imagining the worst. And like I said, I don’t want any surprises jumping out at me down the road. I want to be informed and know what I’m walking into with my eyes wide open.”
“Fine, then. I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours.”
“Deal,” she agreed with a smile and I drank it in. I was pretty sure that after what I had to tell her she wouldn’t be smiling much anymore. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if I’d be able to.
She wanted the truth though, and after everything I’d put her through she deserved to know it. I just hoped she would still want me after she learned that leaving her behind wasn’t the most terrible thing I’d done.
“Mr. Hollywood is Dating a Nurse with a Child!”
~The Gossiper~
Chapter Nineteen
Z
Fear choked me. Not because I was afraid to talk to Aubrey, but because I was about to tell her something I pretended never happened. I say pretended it never happened, because I did my best to ignore it, but it still haunted me every single day of my life, and I couldn’t seem to get past it.
Hopefully Aubrey would find a way, or else I was about to lose her all over again. If that happened, I wasn’t sure I’d make it through.
I gave a wry laugh. Fate could be a cruel motherfucker; dangling everything I ever wanted right in front of my face, only to snatch it away again. Aubrey needed to know everything though. After all I’d done, I owed her everything—even if it meant losing her. She was correct. She had the right to know and not be blindsided, and since there were others who knew my secret, it wasn’t something I could keep to myself. There was always the chance of someone leaking it.
Even now I wondered if I knew it would all come down to this, would I have still pursued her? Or would I have run the other way, like I had been for years, trying to avoid this?
I guess we’d never know now.
Sighing deeply, I began telling her of my sordid past. “Well, you know most of how this all started out. I got drunk and slept with someone that looked like you. I was also a big chicken apparently, since I completely avoided telling you about it. For me, it was easier to run, to try and numb the pain and disgust. I convinced myself that you deserved better than me and I was doing the right thing by letting you go. When I didn’t hear from you again either, I thought maybe you’d found someone else. While even the thought of you being with another guy crushed me to my core, I still felt you were better off without me.”
“Oh, Zane. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t talk to me.” She didn’t move away, staying there with her head on my shoulder as she listened. I appreciated her not staring right at me. It would be easier to tell her if I couldn’t see her eyes. I couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in them. “Why? You used to tell me everything.”
“That’s because I never had to tell you something that would deliberately hurt you. I couldn’t do it. The thought of seeing the disappointment in your eyes, or hearing you say you never wanted to see me again—it was too much. So I just left. I chose to save you from the pain—I thought—and made the decision for us.”
“Yes, you did. But if you could’ve trusted me we could’ve found a way to work things out together. True, I would have been crushed by your revelation. Completely crushed, I’m not going to lie. I would’ve been angry and I would’ve cried and screamed, but we’d at least have had the chance to try and pick up the pieces and move forward. But none of that matters now.”
“I’m sorry, Aubrey. I know I should’ve trusted you. It’s way too late for me to fix the past now, though, and I still have things to tell you. I do trust you. Completely. And I’m hoping this next revelation will prove it.” I paused hating that everything inside me was quaking. “I’m going to start with the worst first. Hardly anyone knows what I’m about to tell you, and that’s because I’ve busted my balls to keep it that way. So I’m going to ask you one more time . . . are you sure you want to know everything?”
Turning her head, she stared at me, her eyes searching my face before she finally spoke. “I really do. I need it for my own peace of mind, and so I can help you if you need it.”
Damn. I would’ve loved for her to change her mind. “Okay then.” I took another deep breath. “I don’t know how closely you’ve followed my career, but for awhile I was dating an actress named Lauren Cassidy. You’ve probably heard of her.”
“Who hasn’t?” she replied not sounding very enthused. “I used to hate her guts. I refused to even watch any movies she was in.”
“How come?” I asked, surprised by how much bitterness had crept into her voice.
“Because she had you.”
“Oh.” I must be a shithead, because that little revelation actually made me feel good—not that it upset her, but that she cared enough to dislike Lauren. “I had no idea. I’m sorry.”
“I’m over it now, for the most part anyway. The two of you splitting up helped that. Were you in love with her?”
“No—not in the way you mean, at least. But I cared a lot about her. We weren’t really good for each other, though.”
“How come?”
I blew out a breath before continuing on. “We met on the set of a movie we starred in together.”
“I know. It was all over the tabloids.”
“Well, she was into the party scene as much, or even worse, than I was. We got pretty rowdy together, holding massive parties and whatnot, where the drugs and booze flowed freely.”
“Doesn’t anyone police this stuff? How do you go about getting those kinds of drugs in those quantities?” She sounded irritated.
I shrugged. “There’s actually party dealers you can order from. They’ll even send girls—or guys, if that’s what someone wants—to party with you. I used to order from them all the time.”
She was silent for a moment. “Did you have sex with these party girls?” Now we were getting into the tough shit.
“All the time,” I answered honestly. “On more occasions than I can even name, unfortunately. There were even times that I couldn’t remember the parties. I’d wake up naked in a room full of women having no memory of who I slept with, just knowing that I had.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
Releasing a harsh laugh, I stood, walking away from her. I didn’t want to be touching her when I said this. I didn’t want to contaminate her even more. “Well, I’m fucking screwed then, because that’s not even the bad part.”
Her eyes grew a little wider. “There’s more?”
I nodded, trying to swallow past the knot in my throat. I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to tell her what I needed to say. “Yeah.”
There was fear in her eyes now and she glanced around. “Why don’t we go into my room? I think I’d feel better discussing this behind a locked door where Dustin can’t accidentally overhear.”
“Good plan,” I agreed, waiting for her to stand and then following her down the hallway. She didn’t reach for me or make any kind of contact. That wasn’t a good sign.
As soon as we were safely locked inside, she went and sat on the end of her bed, staring at me as she waited for me to continue. I was too nervous to sit though, instead choosing to pace the floor near her bedroom television that sat in a small entertainment center.
“I'm ready whenever you are,” she encouraged, but she looked like she’d rather chop her own ears off than hear what I had to say. I didn’t blame her.
“Lauren and I were together for quite a while, a couple years at least. One night we hosted a huge party. We’d both received awards for
our work and decided to throw a massive free for all. We spent a ton of money on party supplies—which is basically code in Hollywood for drugs and alcohol. Tons of people showed up and we all proceeded to get completely and totally wasted. The last thing I remember about that night was helping to set up a beer keg that someone brought late to the party. Or maybe I even ordered it. If I did, I was too far gone to remember. Everything after that is a complete black out for me. I don’t recall anything.”
“What happened?” Aubrey’s face looked pale. She knew I was about to drop a bomb on her.
There was no sugar coating anything for her now. “I woke up in bed, naked, with a man I’d never met before—or at least I don’t remember meeting him.”
Her eyes rounded like saucers and I rushed to continue.
“I knew right away that we’d slept together because . . . uh . . . I could feel the evidence.”
She held her hand up. “You don’t need to elaborate. I get the picture.”
“Still not the worst part,” I said, hating that she looked like she was about to cry. “When I realized what had happened, I lost it. I was literally hyperventilating in the bed, trying to figure out what the hell had gone on.
“The man next to me woke up and smiled. I’ll never forget what he said. ‘Hey, in case you don’t remember, I’m Andy. You kept calling me Audrey or Aubrey or something last night. You were pretty out of it.’ I heard your name and it seemed like everything in front of me turned red from rage.
“I jumped up from the bed, dragged him out of it and proceeded to beat the shit out of him. I called him every vile name I could think of, sobbing as I accused him of raping me and I bashed his face over and over again into the tile floor.” It was like I was immediately back in that moment. Fear choked me, clawing at my neck like it wanted to strangle me. I could see every single tiny detail, smell every smell, and even now, I clenched my hands, remembering the way his bones had crunched beneath them. “Blood was splattering everywhere. I could hear him begging me to stop, begging me for his life, shrieking about how much I’d wanted it, and that I’d been excited about it even.” Even now, the rage I’d felt at those words consumed me again. “I couldn’t even think, Aubrey. I just wanted to kill him.”
“Did you?” her voice was trembling as she asked.
“No, thank god, but I busted him up really bad. The ruckus woke others and caused Lauren to come see what was going on. I have no idea what, or who, she was doing during all this, but she definitely wasn’t with me. As soon as she saw me standing there naked over a very bloodied, and at this point, unconscious Andy, she called 911.
“Several people heard her in hysterics and rushed into the room, pulling me off him. They locked me in another room until the police showed up and arrested me and an ambulance took poor Andy away to the hospital.”
“Did he survive?”
“Barely.” A strangled sob escaped me and I sank to the floor, covering my face with my hands, wishing it could stop the words. “I almost killed him. He had a cerebral hemorrhage and had to have surgery to relieve the pressure. I busted up his nose, and cracked one of the bones around his eye and one of his cheekbones was broken, too. He looked like he’d been in a horrific crash when they took him from the house, completely unrecognizable. I remember wondering how anyone who looked like that could possibly still be alive.”
“How did none of this get leaked into the papers?”
I snorted. “There’s a reason I pay Penelope and the rest of the team top dollar. It’s because they’re the best. They know how to cover shit up. But mostly it was because I caught a break. I don’t know why, but Andy refused to press charges against me. He told the cops that there had been a misunderstanding and that I believed he’d raped me when I woke up. He said I was only defending myself and took all the blame, and I let him.”
“You didn’t do anything?” Her voice was complete horror now.
I shook my head. “Not really. I threw a bunch of money at him to ease my conscience—a bunch. I wanted to help with his medical bills. He refused to see me afterward, not that I blame him, but he did accept the money.”
“And Lauren?”
A soulless sounding laugh escaped me. “She called me a faggot and kicked me out of the house. Penelope paid her off too, and got her to sign a confidentiality waiver. If she says anything, she loses everything. Penelope has too much dirt on her.”
“Wow. I don’t even know how to respond to all this.” She scrubbed at her face with her hands before plopping back onto the bed.
I continued on, wanting to help her understand as best I could. “I’d like to think that under different circumstances, I wouldn’t have reacted so strongly. I don’t hate gays. You know that. We both had friends in high school who were out, and I’ve worked with a ton of amazing people since I’ve been here that I absolutely admire. I definitely don’t want to be called a gay basher. But when I woke up, all I could think was that this guy raped me.
“In the statement he gave the police he said I was a willing participant. I don’t know what I feel worse about—that comment, or beating the shit out of a stranger. What kind of person does that make me? I feel like I lost my identity in that moment. I didn’t know who I was anymore. Was there some secret closet desire to be gay or bisexual inside me, and if so how could I have not known about it? I swear, Aubrey, I’ve never felt sexual desire toward any man in my life. This was just completely out of the blue for me.”
Sighing heavily she sat up, crossing her legs on the bed and staring at where I was still seated on the floor. I didn’t go to her. She needed distance from me right now. “I don’t think you’re gay, or even bisexual. I think you’re a drug addict that’s in way over his head. Please tell me you stopped using for at least a little while after this.”
“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I couldn’t take knowing what I’d done. If anything, the drug use got worse. I honestly felt like there was no point in going on, that I was broken, ruined. Now I wasn’t just trying to forget about you, I was trying to forget about everything.”
“And so you started sleeping with every single woman you could.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. She understood exactly where I was coming from.
“I did. All so I could prove to myself that I’m not gay, and know who I really am, but the truth is, I don’t have a damn clue.”
Another large sigh escaped her. “You’re really fucked up, Zane, you know that?”
“I do.” My heart felt like it was shattering all over again with my awful confession. “If you can’t be with me, or if you don’t want Dustin to be around me, I understand. But this is the truth. You know all my dirty secrets now, the big ones at least. If you need to know the rest I can keep going.”
“No. I think I can draw a pretty good conclusion from what you’ve told me already.” Tears leaked down her face. “Thank you for being honest with me. It says a lot about your character.” She paused, as if her next words were going to be difficult for her, and I felt my heart plummet. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m going to need a little time to process all this. I need to be able to think, without you sitting right there. Whenever I’m next to you everything becomes so—”
“I get it.” Standing, I removed my wallet and picked out one of my personal cards. “This has my cell phone number on it. Call me if you want to talk.”
Taking the card from me, she stared at it, softly rubbing her finger over my name. “I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
“Okay.” Turning, I headed from her room, my heart feeling the heaviest it ever had in my entire life. It was like I was walking out and leaving happiness behind me and I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to recapture it again.
“Wait!” she called and I turned in the hallway, hopeful, finding her standing in her bedroom doorway. “How will you get home? I drove you here.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Digging into my pocket I pulled out my cell phone. “I’ll just call a
cab and walk down to that gas station near here to meet it.”
“Are you sure?” She didn’t look like she agreed with that, but didn’t offer any other suggestions.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” I couldn’t help staring at her, wondering if it might be the last time I ever saw her. “Whatever happens now, please know that I’ve always loved you, Aubrey.”
“I know you do,” she replied, her voice soft and her eyes teary. “Sometimes though, love by itself isn’t enough. There has to be trust, too.”
With that, she closed her bedroom door without saying the words back to me. Turning, I stared sorrowfully at the entrance to my son’s bedroom wishing I could go inside and hug him one last time, but I didn’t dare.
I let myself out of the house.
“Who Is the Father of Aubrey Hart’s Son?”
~Paparazzi Watcher~
Chapter Twenty
Z
“Where to?” the cab driver asked, and I was relieved that he didn’t appear to know who I was.
“Sunnybrook Haven Center for Wellness,” I replied, not even having to think about it. Never in my life had I wanted a drink as much as right now. Battling to keep from giving in, I’d stared long and hard at the gas station, knowing there was alcohol in the coolers right inside. It would be so easy to walk right in, load up, and go home to get plastered like I had a thousand times before. All these raw nerves inside me were eating me up as scenes from my past flitted through my mind with nothing to stop their torment.
Something had happened when I’d confessed things to Aubrey, though. A light had clicked on inside my head and I finally realized what everyone had been trying to tell me. My actions were causing me to lose everything I loved. Drowning my sorrows and getting strung out wasn’t bringing me any closer to the things I wanted. If anything, it was ripping me farther away.
Mr. Hollywood (Celebrity #1) Page 17
