Absolutely Famous(78)

“Because I knew they wanted me to pretend to be with her to promote the film, Sydney!” I wince in pain at his words, even though I already know this because Kiera told me herself. “When I told them to go fuck themselves, they were not happy, and that’s putting it mildly.” I remember Drew arguing on the phone with a studio exec back in Vancouver.

“But that doesn’t make what they did your fault, Drew.”

“No, but I wouldn’t play along with their bullshit, and that doesn’t always sit well with some of these studio pricks. I can’t believe that they would stoop to hiring some shitty tabloid to listen in on our conversations to try and break us up.”

“It certainly explains a lot of things. Like how they knew where we were staying, why the articles always painted it as though you and Kiera were alone when you weren’t, how all of those stills from filming were leaked …”

“It’s fuckin bullshit Sydney!” he roars. “And that bitch, she knew about it all along.” Drew clutches his hair again and stomps around the room in frustration. Before I can react, he pulls back his arm and punches the wall, his hand smashing into it and cracking the plaster leaving a huge dent. “Goddammit!” He continues punching it again and again until there’s a gaping hole in the wall.

“Drew, stop!”

Holy fuck!

He either can’t hear me or ignores me, because his fist keeps hitting the solid wall.

I run over and grab his arm, fully aware that I shouldn’t get between Very Angry Drew and whatever he’s hitting. I just can’t stand by and watch him injure himself, even though I know his anger is justified. He stops and lets me hold his hand up to inspect it, hanging his head in defeat. I slide my fingers over his bleeding knuckles, the skin split open and his hand already swelling up to twice its normal size.

“Let’s get some ice babe.” I lead him to the couch and have him sit down. He does what I ask without complaint, totally lost. I grab the ice bucket off of the bar and head into the kitchen, glad that the larger suites have their own ice machines. Filling it halfway, I bring it back to the living area and set it on the side table. Carefully, I pick up his hand and place it in the ice.

Drew watches me warily, his gaze never leaving my face. I get back up and fetch the bottle of ibuprofen that I got for Allie a few weeks ago and shake a several into my hand. I bring Drew a bottle of water from the fridge, uncap it and hand him the pills. He tosses them back and takes the water from me, draining half the bottle.

“Are you okay?” I hold his good hand as I sit on the coffee table and face him, our knees pressed together between us.

Drew barks out a sarcastic laugh. “I’m pretty fuckin far from okay, Syd.”

I have no idea what to do for him. Even when he’s angry, he’s always so in control and confident in a crisis. When he’s broken like this it’s impossible for me to handle.

I pull his hand out of the ice and he cringes from pain. I gasp when I see his hand; it’s huge and purple around his middle and ring fingers. “I think it’s broken.”

His eyes meet mine and I want to cry. The look he gives me, it’s almost lifeless. He’s overwhelmed by this situation. I lean forward and press a gentle kiss to his lips. It’s time for me to return the favor and be the strong one. New Sydney can do this for him. I’m tougher than I used to be, resilient; no longer the girl that hides in the corner and watches life pass by.

I get my phone and call Steve.

He answers on the first ring. “Miss Tannen.”

“Hey Steve, I need you to have the car brought around front and then can you come to our suite please? And bring the other guys with you.”

“I’ll be there in five,” he says in his sharp military tone.

I disconnect and call Jane.

“Sydney! Oh my God! I just found out about the studio, what’s going on?” She is freaking out, unable to hide the hysteria in her voice.

I can only handle one person losing their shit at a time.

I get up and walk into the bedroom so I won’t upset Drew further. He doesn’t even attempt to move. “Jane, listen. I need you to calm down and call Quentin and Rhys and get them on this immediately. Rhys can call my phone to run Drew’s official statement by me before he releases it. Tell him he can just come up with something fitting. I need Quentin to look into Drew’s contract with the studio and contact his lawyer, Sam Jennings, to discuss possible litigation against the studio, the executive behind this mess, Kiera and CelebCast.”

I hope I got everything.

“Where’s Drew?” she asks me nervously.