Filthy Beast(45)

She clearly doesn’t understand that. “You’re just being silly,” she says, trying to be flirtatious.

“Holly,” I say, trying to get fucking serious. “I’m not into you. This relationship is fake. I went to Franklin because I want to get the fuck out of it, not because I like you.”

“You’re just confused,” she says to me sweetly. “You wouldn’t do that. Because you know that if you did, I’d tell the paparazzi that you raped and abused me.”

Her tone of voice is so sweet. She doesn’t miss a beat, doesn’t drop the act, not even for a second, not even when she fucking says that. It doesn’t register as first, because she says it so nicely.

But I quickly understand what she’s trying to do. “You’re blackmailing me?” I ask her, incredulous.

“No, I’d never blackmail you. I’m just telling you that I need this relationship at this point in my career, and if you keep trying to get out of it, I won’t be happy.”

I gape at her before getting it together. “Don’t threaten me,” I say.

“Don’t be a pussy,” she responds. “You’re my man now. Might as well fuck me and enjoy it a little.”

I get up out of my chair and walk away from her. “When shooting wraps, we’re done. Did Franklin tell you that?”

“No,” she says.

“That’s the deal we made. I’ll stay, but I’m not doing anymore public shit with you, and when wrapping is done, we break up.”

She goes quiet for a second. “That doesn’t sound acceptable to me,” she says finally, shaking her head. “No, I need you at least until I book my next movie. Might not be until after the premiere.”

“Fuck that,” I say to her. “Understand this. You’re nothing to me.”

She stands up and smiles, like she doesn’t hear a word I’m saying. “And you understand this. If you mess this up, I’ll cry rape, and you’re finished.”

She smiles sweetly, waves, and leaves the trailer.

I stand there, staring at the door. I want to fucking break something as rage flows through me, but I don’t know what to do.

Holly can fuck me. If she really does come out and claim that I raped her, I would be finished in more ways than one. I’d be done as an actor for sure, but I don’t know how Tara would react to that, either. She doesn’t exactly trust me. She thinks I’m some fucking manwhore who left her on a whim, even though I had to do what I did back then to help my family.

She doesn’t know that, of course, and if Holly suddenly starts saying I’m an abusive rapist… who knows what she’ll do. I’ll be fucking wrecked.

I can’t let her get away with this. But I need to figure out what to do first. Holly can snap and say whatever she wants at any moment, and I fully believe that she’ll follow through with this.

What a goddamn mess. I try and get myself out of it, but she just keeps sucking me back in. At least now I understand her motivation. She doesn’t care about me at all. This is about her fucking career.

I’m a rising star, and she wants to attach herself to me. I can understand that. It’s why she wanted to do this stupid Hollywood relationship to begin with. She wants people to link her with me, and she thinks that’ll help her book better movies and advance her career. It does make sense, but it’s fucked up how far she’s willing to go to make it happen.

I can’t come at this half-baked. I need to figure out a plan. I can’t let this girl outflank me and wreck what I’m trying to build with Tara.

For today, I’ll play nice and get through filming. But I’m not rolling over and giving up.





22





Tara





Long days of filming leave me exhausted, and I need to try and get some sleep.

Except that’s pretty impossible these days. All I want to do is look up rumors and news stories about Jackson and Holly, which is totally an insane thing to do. I can just ask him about it, but I don’t fully trust him yet, although I don’t know why I’d trust the freaking paparazzi.

It’s not just the news stories. It’s everything. I keep thinking about what I used to have with him, back in the day. I keep seeing the guy he used to be, and sometimes I see that guy still inside of him. I can tell he’s been through a lot since I last saw him. I mean, he was a freaking Navy SEAL that saw actual combat. I feel like people don’t think about that nearly enough. He’s a real badass, not like those fake pretty boys that pretend to be tough.

The Jackson I knew was always hard, but he has a soft side, and he always showed it to me. I miss that side of him. I miss the way he used to sneak to my house in the middle of the night and throw rocks at my window. It was really cliché, but he didn’t own a cellphone. He’d climb up onto my roof and help me out the window, and we’d sit there together and kiss each other for hours. He’d sneak back home before the sun came up, and we never got caught.