Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“But you don’t get it. I’ve been making a movie this whole time.” He comes toward me, his smirk getting bigger. “My film isn’t about Rodrick, though he has played his part beautifully.”
“Thank you, maestro.” Rodrick sits down on the bed and ties his arm off. “Now, if you two will excuse me—” He goes back to preparing his shot.
“What are you talking about? You haven’t filmed a single scene yet. You just sent us the fucking script.”
“I’ve been shooting since the moment Baptist approached me in the park. Ever since Ansell Drake’s wedding. I’ve been shooting since that first day you came to my house, since you found me in the attic, since you started seeing that OB.” He laughs and takes a step toward me. “You think I don’t fucking know? I arranged it all, though I’ll admit, Baptist fucking you without a condom and knocking you up was a particularly beautiful master stroke.”
“This is insane,” I croak, backing away, but I’m still dizzy and I nearly stumble. I lean against the wall as Cowan laughs and laughs. “How the hell? Why the fuck?”
“I know you’re pregnant and I’m very sure it’s his kid. Are you going to tell him, suit? Are you going to break it to him anytime soon, or do you think you can keep this game going forever? Come on, suit, what’s it gonna be?”
“Stop it,” I say, shaking my head. “Stop it!”
“That’s right, run like you always do. Both of you are pathetic. You two deserve each other. Hell, you two will rip each other to pieces. I don’t envy that poor, pathetic kid.”
I turn and grab the door, flinging it open. Cowan laughs and Rodrick groans and I stagger out into the hallway.
He knows I’m pregnant. He’s been filming this whole time, everything, from the very beginning.
This movie isn’t about addicts.
It’s about Baptist.
It’s about me.
I stumble away from the room and keep on running.
Chapter 22
Baptist
I keep seeing her face in my head, over and over again, her one eye swollen, her split lip bleeding down into her mouth, the pain in her expression, the tears in her eyes, and the worst part, even worse than hurting her, was the way she kept trying to make me feel better about it.
That look broke me.
I got the fuck out of here before I did even more damage. I was out of control, losing my mind, doing whatever I wanted in the moment without any worry about future repercussions, and Blair paid the price. I never should’ve gone in that hotel room and never should’ve hit Cowan like that, even if the fucker deserved it and much worse.
Because in the end, I only hurt her.
Like I always do.
That’s all I’m good for. This time, it was an accidental elbow to the face, but next time? How much more damage can she take before she shatters completely?
I won’t let myself ruin her.
It takes me a day to get my shit back together. I go off the grid, no phone, no email, I don’t even bother returning to my apartment on the off chance she’ll show up there randomly. I don’t trust myself around her right now, not when I’m still hurting and still angry, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do about Cowan or anything else.
Not that it matters.
I hurt her. I fucking hurt her.
And all I know is, I can’t go anywhere near her.
But slowly, after sitting down in a random hotel bar out in the suburbs and drowning my worries, a plan begins to form. It’s an ugly plan, a desperate plan, but I’m at the bleakest point in my life and I can’t see any other way to escape this cycle of darkness. If I don’t pull myself out, I’ll drown, and I’ll drag Blair down with me.
That can’t happen.
I’m up early the next day after making some calls the night before. I drive into the city and keep telling myself I’m doing the right thing. Even if I’m not sure.
Rittenhouse Park is busy on a Wednesday afternoon. It’s nice out, sunny, mild temperature, slight breeze, and the buskers are gathered in force. Two jugglers, two guys playing guitar, a woman doing caricature drawings, and a young kid beatboxing while breakdancing. I find a good bench along the outer ring near the trees and sit in the shade, watching people walk past, thinking about their lives and my own, and how I found myself here at the bottom of a long, steep slope, wrapped in failure and knowing the only way out for me now is more pain.
It was a mistake bringing Blair into my world.
I should’ve known that Cowan was never going to work out. I should’ve seen through his bullshit from the start, but I was so blinded by my own ambition that I was willing to keep going even when it became obvious nothing was going to happen. Cowan never wanted to make a movie, he only wanted to fuck with me, and I still don’t understand why.