by S. M. Soto
We make a few stops in downtown Hollywood for meetings. Just as he promised, there is paparazzi at every turn, snapping photos of us. It makes me wonder where all the real celebrities are. I’m not an actress or a famous singer. I’m just the girl who cried wolf. I don’t understand the internet’s fascination with me. In the past two hours of running around with him, we haven’t uttered a single word expect for pleasantries when it’s expected of us.
As much as I don’t want to, I finally cut through the silence and speak up when we drive through the hills on the outskirts of LA. The homes here are beautiful. I cast a curious glance at Baz when we stop in front of a particularly large home.
“What are we doing now?”
“I’m meeting with an agent.”
My brows tug down, my face scrunched in confusion. “What are you looking at this house for? You already have one, and you have an entire resort at your disposal.”
Baz shrugs, helping me out of the car, leading the way up the cobblestone driveway. “If I like it, it’s an investment. I don’t need any other reason.”
I roll my eyes at his thought process. That is such a rich thing to say. Yeah, not everyone has the money to drop on a multimillion-dollar home just to call it an investment. Not even to live in it.
The agent, Vanessa, is an older woman who means business. The second we step into the house, she shakes my hand, then Baz’s and jumps into bullet-point form. She goes into the home’s details, who the previous buyers were, and any new updates or renovations done to the home. It’s a four-bedroom home with four and a half bathrooms and a pool in the backyard. The décor inside is beautiful; the floors are a dark wood that contrast against the white walls and the sleek marble countertops.
I hang back during most of the tour, giving Vanessa and Baz space to talk about the home, without feeling like I’m hovering. While they finish talking, I head into the master bedroom, in awe of the view of the backyard. Up here, you can clearly see the pool and the backdrop of the bright blue sky and the hills beyond. It’s not as beautiful as Baz’s view in his home or back at the resort, but this one has its own allure. It has charm that I can see myself loving if this place was mine.
“What do you think?”
I turn at the sound of Baz’s voice. He’s leaning against the doorframe, watching me take in the view. I shrug. There’s no denying the home is beautiful. It has a lot of character.
“Does it really matter what I think of it?”
“It does.”
I roll my eyes and shake my head. Sometimes, he can be so bullheaded. “It’s beautiful in a very understated way. I’m sure it’ll be a good investment.”
That seems to appease him. Jerking his chin over his shoulder, he motions toward the hallway. “C’mon. We still have a few other things that need to be done.”
Once Baz is officially finished with his business meetings, Dan drops us off at 71Above in downtown Hollywood for dinner. I’m not all that surprised when Baz gets us a private table on the terrace that overlooks the majority of downtown LA. It’s beautiful, the gleaming lights and the hills as a backdrop, while we eat. Without even asking, a glass of scotch and a bottle of pinot appear on the table.
I take large gulps of my wine, in dire need of alcohol, if I plan on getting through this entire dinner with my sanity intact.
“The UNICEF gala is in two weeks. Do you have any suggestions for the kind of dress you’d want to wear?”
I glance at him over the rim of my wine glass. “You mean I actually have a say in this?”
“Not really.” He shrugs. “Thought I’d give the illusion of an option.”
“I don’t care about that stuff anyway. The last dress that was chosen for me worked out fine,” I snap back. He nods, his eyes still on me.
I wish he’d look away already.
“It did.”
Uncomfortable silence descends between us. I avert my gaze, though I can still feel his eyes on me, burning me from the inside out. I drain the contents of my glass and almost spit it out at what he says next.
“I shouldn’t have said what I did earlier.”
My chest pangs at the memory. Baz isn’t a man who normally feels the need to apologize, so the fact that he’s doing it now? That must mean he knows just how much he hurt me earlier, and for some reason, that only upsets me more. I don’t want him to know how I’m feeling, and I sure as shit don’t want him, of all people, feeling bad for me.
I suck in a shaky breath and force myself to give him a smarmy smile, lying through my teeth. “Doesn’t bother me one bit.”
“For someone who was so good at lying, you’ve gotten awfully bad at it. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Mackenzie.”
“I’m not jealous, Sebastian. Can we just eat in silence? I’m not here because I want to be. I’m here because I have to be.”
“You’ve made that abundantly clear. I did bring you here to talk about something important. About Vincent.”
I tense, my body going cold, just at the mere mention of his name. I’ll never be able to think about Vincent without feeling pain. I’ll never be able to hear the name without feeling anger.
“When was the last time you saw him or Zach?”
“Why?” I ask, my eyes narrowing on him. I’m suddenly feeling wary. Especially at the look on his face. He’s serious.
“This is important, Mackenzie. Just answer me.”
“I haven’t seen him since the accident. And if I do ever run into him? I’ll kill him. So, please, if you plan on bringing him around and expecting us to be friends, that’ll never work. Don’t even bother.”
Baz’s lips thin. “Can you tell the truth for fucking five seconds?”
I jerk back in surprise. “That is the truth, you fucking asshole.”
“I know he was at the institution visiting you. Watching you. Doing whatever it was he was doing. You never saw him there?”
My brows draw in, and I shake my head. “You mean Zach? I’m telling you the truth. The last time I saw Vincent was the night of the accident. But Zach…” My chest tightens as I recall the weight of the pillow over my face. The feeling of panic that overwhelmed me when I couldn’t breathe.
“What about Zach?”
I scrub a hand down my face, too afraid to utter the words out loud. They sound crazy. I’ll sound paranoid. He’ll tell me that I was dreaming. That it was just a nightmare.
“Mackenzie?” he prompts.
Huffing out a shaky breath, I grab the bottle of wine and pour myself more, topping off the glass. I take long pulls and wipe the excess off with the back of my hand. “I thought I saw him those first few weeks there. I thought I really was going crazy. But one of the patients, she mentioned something about Zach that made it seem like he was there, and she was going to be the one doing his dirty work.”
Baz’s eyes light with anger. He grips the edge of the table. His fingers dig into the wood so hard, I hear a crack.
“I woke up one night out of the blue, and he was there. He…he put a pillow over my face and said he was going to finish what he started. I didn’t understand it. I was scared.”
Baz shoots away from the table, knocking back his chair. I look around us quickly, glad we’re the only two up here. Not even the servers are here right now.
“You’re telling me this now? What the fuck, Mackenzie?”
“I’m sorry! I…I was scared. When I told the doctors and staff, they made it seem like I was crazy. And I really thought I was! Until that girl attacked me. It was how I cracked my head.”
“That was how that happened?” He stops his pacing as he asks the question. There’s a frightening calm that suddenly surrounds him, but like I know the back of my hand, I realize this is the calm before the storm. He’s very close to losing his shit.
“Yes. After that, there was that small moment of time that I couldn’t remember. Then you came to visit, and not long after that, I was gone. It didn’t leave me with options to find out the truth. Was he really there?
Was it all in my mind?”
“Shit. I knew he was pretending to be Vincent, but I didn’t realize he’d made his presence known.”
“How did you know?”
“Dr. Aster let it slip that Vincent was visiting you. I had his visitor’s rights revoked immediately. His name was the only name used on the logs. I was sure it was Vincent until I confronted him to get some answers. He didn’t have a single clue Zach was there visiting you, pretending to be him.”
I pause. “But why would he do that? You guys are all supposed to be best friends.”
Baz scoffs. “Yeah. We were before you happened. I’m starting to realize we were all never really that close.”
“What aren’t you telling me, Sebastian?”
“Stop calling me that,” he snaps, and it’s his first show of anger. He’s been so calm and collected up until now.
“It’s your name. And I’ll call you whatever I want. Now tell me what you know.”
“I don’t trust the guys. That’s all I know. Vincent tried to kill you, Zach has been lying, and from the looks of it, tried to kill you, too, and Trent is being a fucking pussy—nothing really new there.”
“So, what are we going to do about it?”
“We?” He laughs. “There is no we. You’re done with your revenge. No more of this shit. Let me handle it.”
“Fine.” I sit back, glowering at him, while I finish off my wine, already feeling a slight buzz from the large glasses I’ve been pouring.
“I’m serious, Mackenzie. I can’t keep you out of trouble if you do anything more. I need you to do what you’re fucking told for once, just until I get this shit cleared up.”
“I said fine, didn’t I? Keep them away from me, and I’ll stay away from them. Plain and simple.”
He watches me, searching my gaze, looking for the truth, but he won’t find it. I’m telling him what he needs to hear, but I mean what I said. If I find them, they’re dead. I don’t care if it’s risking my future. I can’t let them get away with any more. They tried to kill me. And I refuse to be a victim this time around.
The tables are turning.
Most of the tension that’s been weighing heavily between Baz and me dissipates after dinner. It is probably the wine and food that take away most of the lingering anger I am harboring toward him. Or maybe it is because I finally had a conversation with him today where I feel like he is close to telling me the truth.
I know I am buzzed when he says we have one more thing to do, and I don’t even feel all that bothered. I am confused when we start driving into the hills. Past trees and trails that are normally reserved for hikers.
My gaze darts from Baz to Dan, and I start to question if he’d be the type of man to murder me and leave me here. When we pull up to gates that say keep out, I look out beyond and gasp.
“The Hollywood sign?” Excitement suddenly bursts through my system. I blame that on the alcohol, too. He smiles at my reaction, and it’s the first time in days that the smile is a soft one. It’s his smile from a simpler time, one from before. Before the shit between us got so messed up. It gives me pause, as warmth spills into my chest.
He jerks his head over his shoulder, putting his hand out between us. “C’mon.”
I take it, sliding my palm in his, enjoying the way that current of electricity vibrates through my veins.
“What if we get caught?” I ask, as we bypass the gate.
He laughs like I should know better. “We won’t. Dan’s taking care of it. Now, what letter?”
“Huh?”
He looks up. “You’ve got to have a letter you’re dying to sit under. Isn’t that the reason people want to come to the sign, to get close enough to the letters?”
I pause, looking them over. The letters look larger than life and intimidating. “I guess I never thought that far ahead. Didn’t actually think standing here would be an option, so maybe…the H? That looks the safest. Any other letters and we might go rolling down this cliff.”
Baz squeezes my hand in his and laughs at me while he helps me walk through the dirt and weeds to get to the letter H. We bypass the metal bars holding the letter up, keeping it in place, and stand beneath the awning of the letter.
My breath leaves me in a gust of air, and I reach out, gripping the side of the letter for support as I take in the view. My heart is beating wildly in my chest, as I look down at the sprawling hills, the setting sun, and the twinkling lights of the city. The sky is cast in various shades of orange and red, the barest hints of purple blending at the edges as it disappears into the wispy clouds. The lights of the city slowly grow brighter and brighter, as the sun and the harmonious blend of colors evaporate, leaving an indigo imprint in the sky. If things were different, this might easily be the most romantic day of my life.
“I’ve always wanted to do this. It’s scarier than I imagined, but it’s…beautiful.”
“I know.”
My lips part when I look back at him and realize he’s watching me. The sharp planes of his face are incredibly handsome and severe in this lighting. The lights flick on around us, illuminating the letters, giving me a clear view of his bright and intense eyes that feel like they’re staring into my soul. Heat rises to my cheeks at the way he’s staring at me, and I glance down, my eyes suddenly riveted to his shoes. A smile tips the corners of my lips, and a lightness I haven’t felt in a while slithers through my body.
“You look ridiculous out here in that suit, you know that, right?”
Baz laughs. The sound is husky and deep, and I feel the effects of it rumble in my chest. “My options were limited today.”
“Why bring me up here to see this?”
His broad shoulders lift in a noncommittal shrug, his smile slowly fading as he looks out at the last bits of the setting sun. It casts the last remnants of a warm purple glow over the hills until it disappears. “Why not? You wanted to see it. I have the ability to make it happen.”
Our gazes lock, and I feel it, that current passing between us. I feel myself forgetting his harsh words from earlier and wanting to fall into his arms. I miss that. The feeling of him wrapped around me.
“But why? Why would you want to do that for me, Baz?”
He steps into me, resting his hands on my hips. The warmth from his palms seeps into the material of my pants, spreading fire along my skin. He applies the slightest bit of pressure, and I follow where he leads me until my back softly collides with the inside of the letter H. He doesn’t move his hands up or down my body any farther. Just stays locked here in the moment with me.
“Because you’re going to hate me,” he finally answers. “This is one last good before all the bad.”
I frown, my stomach twisting at his words. “Not sure how that’s possible. I already hate you.”
His lips quirk, but it lasts only a few seconds. “I’m going to take from you. I’m going to take what I want and then leave because that’s what I do. And you’ll hate me for it.”
I’m stunned silent, though I know he’s right. And it’s probably for the best that I hate him. After everything that has happened, it’s only fair. But this foolish part of me doesn’t want to hate him. It’s moments like these when I want things to go back to the way they were. I want to erase my past, erase all the wrongdoings, and move forward. But I can’t do that. I don’t know how to let go of the past, and that’s my biggest issue.
And he knows this. Deep down, he knows I’ll never be able to let any of this go. I’ll never be able to trust him or his friends.
I suck in a sharp gasp when Baz suddenly wedges one of his knees between my legs, his eyes trailing over my face. My heart thumps to life, and my legs slightly part for him. His hands slide up my sides, caressing the sides of my stomach and the edges of my breasts, and my lips part on instinct. Both of those rough and calloused hands trail up my neck, one grasping me by the nape and the other settling in my hair.
He tugs my hair, and a spark of pleasure zaps me in my core. I groan, b
aring my neck to him. His lips skim my throat, his tongue darting out to taste my skin. My eyes slam shut when he releases my hair, and then that hand dips into the waistband of my pants. Baz rubs me lithely through my panties, the material plastered to my pussy.
“Unbutton them and take them off,” he orders.
My eyes widen, and I glance around, my heart lodging itself in my throat. It’s mostly dark, but that doesn’t mean anyone close by won’t be able to see us. “Here?”
Baz chuckles near my ear, and the sound rolls through my body in waves. “I thought you liked being watched, Dirty Girl?”
I swallow thickly, unbuckling my pants and sliding them down. I unhook one foot and leave the other, so one leg is bared. Baz slowly drops to his haunches before me, his calloused hands gliding down my legs as he goes. My stomach flips violently when he looks up at me from his position before me. Keeping his gaze fixed on mine, he grips my panties in his hand and yanks so hard, the scrap of material tears from the force. My chest heaves wildly when he lifts my left leg, exposing my intimate parts to the night air. A shiver rolls through my body when he hooks that leg over his shoulder, his face perfectly in line with my center now.
His hands find purchase on my backside, and he spreads my legs a little wider, staring down at my dripping wet center. A shudder wracks my body when he licks his lips and looks back up at me.
“You look beautiful like this, Mackenzie. With your pussy spread open just for me,” he says, just before he swipes his tongue down my center in a long lick that has me dropping my head back against the letter behind me. There’s a slight sting of pain from the impact, but I’m too focused on what the man on his knees before me is doing to my body. Baz swirls his tongue around my clit, alternating between licking and sucking. My hands slide into the thick, soft strands of his hair, and my hips buck of their own accord, riding his face. When he slides a finger inside me, pumping slowly, a moan rips from my chest, echoing around us.
