25. Scott
TWENTY-FIVE
SCOTT
We’re on the highway for a little over five minutes before the partition lowers. It’s dark outside, and there isn’t much light in the vehicle, so I can barely make out Cory’s silhouette in the driver’s seat, illuminated by the dashboard and passing headlights.
“Are you going to explain to me what’s going on?” I ask, doing my best to keep my composure.
A familiar voice tells me to hold my damn horses, then the shadow of a large body starts to climb through the partition from the front seat.
“How about you hold your damn horses and give me a chance to pull over to the side of the road so you can use the door?” Cory complains, swatting at the knee that gets too close to his face for comfort.
“There’s no time. This is fine.”
“Naz?”
“Yeah,” he grunts. “Gimme a sec.”
I reach over and press the overhead light.
Soft amber light floods the cabin just in time for me to see Naz halfway through the partition, looking like he’s regretting his choice.
He ungracefully grips the back of one of the reversed second row seats and proceeds to try and pull himself the rest of the way through, but he seems to be stuck at the hips.
“Are you stuck?” I ask.
“No. I’m… momentarily inconvenienced.”
A muffled snort comes from the front of the SUV, then a sharp hiss as we swerve onto the shoulder, the vibration of the rumble strip jolting everyone to attention before Cory straightens the wheel. “Watch it!”
“I have regrets,” Naz groans, trying to twist himself through the partition to no avail.
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. It’s brief, but it’s the first genuine moment of relief I’ve felt all day. He’s here.
Naz lifts his head and glares at me. “I’m glad you’re finding this amusing.”
“Hold on,” I chuckle and slide off the bench seat to crouch in front of him. “Okay, um. Let’s try…” Pushing my shoulders under his chest, I lift him enough to get my arms around his waist. “Okay, now hold onto me.”
Naz wraps his arms around my neck.
“Ready?”
“No.”
Laughing, I plant one foot against the bottom of the seat for leverage and pull.
At the same time, Naz gives an undignified wiggle that would be embarrassing under almost any other circumstances.
At first, nothing happens, but then his hips clear the opening all at once, and the sudden shift in momentum sends him flying forward, knocking me back onto the leather bench.
Naz lands on top of me hard enough to drive the air from my lungs.
For a moment neither of us moves as I wheeze, trying to catch my breath through my laughter.
He lifts his head just enough to look down at me. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.” I say, unable to keep my shoulders from shaking from laughter.
“You’re thinking it.”
“Oh, I’m thinking a lot of things right now,” I wheeze.
“Shut up, Cory!” Naz shouts over his shoulder. Only then do I hear Cory’s muffled laughter from the front.
The soft, mechanical whir of the partition being raised somehow makes it even funnier. Even Naz is laughing now.
After a few minutes, when we finally collect our composure, I shift so I’m leaning against the bench seat. Naz remains on top of me but shifts his weight so he’s straddling my lap.
“That was the fucking worst,” he says, and I know he’s not talking about his dumb idea to climb through the partition.
“You should take up acting. I wasn’t sure for a minute.”
Naz grips my chin and lowers his mouth to mine. He kisses me harshly, like he’s punishing me for not believing in him. But it’s not him I didn’t believe in, it’s me.
“You know I don’t think those things about you, right? I know you’d never hurt me, and that part about not wanting you…”
“That’s actually the part that gave me the tiniest bit of hope. It’s the only part that you looked me in the eye for, so I could see you didn’t mean it.”
“I didn’t mean any of it. I just couldn’t look you in the eye and say those things. It hurt too much.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
Maybe it makes me the worst kind of simp, but that acknowledgement is almost as good as him saying it back. I don’t need him to say it. I just need him to let me love him until he feels safe enough to let himself fall too.
Tightening my arms around him, I plaster him to my chest and squeeze as hard as I can without hurting him. In this moment, I just need to be as close to him as possible.
Naz wiggles to adjust, and I reluctantly loosen my arms, only for him to surprise me by knowing exactly what I need. He lifts both our shirts before pressing his chest to mine again and squeezing his arms to signal me to tighten mine again.
Skin to skin, it feels like I can breathe again for the first time. Like that cliché line that always makes me laugh in Naz’s books: I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
I get it now.
After a while, the whir of the partition lowering breaks the silence. “ETA five minutes,” Cory tells us.
I squeeze Naz tighter. I’m not ready to let go of him.
“Hey,” he says, sitting up and staring directly into my eyes. If being skin to skin is like breath in my lungs, then the direct eye contact is reassurance for my soul. “The hard part is over. No matter what comes next, no matter what he says or whether any of this works at all, you have me, okay?”
You have me.
“Okay?”
“Okay,” I breathe, and pull him down to kiss me again. He deepens it, threading his hands through my hair and shifting his hips so I can feel his need for me.
“When I get you home, I’m tying you to my bed and not letting you leave for a week.”
I smirk. “Promises, promises.”
“You’re mine, Scott Riley. Never forget it.”
The SUV rolls to a stop in front of a dark, depressing motel just inside the city limits. Naz pulls back and looks around before smiling down at me. It’s not a true smile, but it’s not forced either. It’s a smile that says, we just have to get through this. I return it and nod.
“Okay,” I say, and tap his hip. Naz crawls off me and sits in one of the chairs facing mine. Cory tosses a jacket from the front, and Naz uses it to cover himself. He watches me straighten my clothes and take a deep, steadying breath before I reach for the door.
“Scott?” I look over at him one last time. “You said I was too believable before. If I was, it’s because I let myself imagine losing you for real. And it made me realize how much I’ve taken you for granted. When this is all over, I want to make that up to you.”
“Baby, you can take me for granted as much as you like. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re mine.”
Before I lose my resolve, I open the door and step out into the warm, damp night. As soon as the door is closed behind me, Cory is there. He walks around from the back of the SUV, drops my bag in a puddle on the ground next to me, and hands me a manila envelope.
“All the paperwork you need to review is there, and a copy was sent to your email as well. You can choose to sign online through the label’s secure portal, or you can mail it back using this pre-paid envelope.
Please complete it as soon as possible. Tonight would be best, so the system can be updated. ”
See, a little hint like that to let me know that this is all part of the plan really goes a long way. Why couldn’t he have done something like that back at the trailer?
Another, smaller envelope is pulled from his back pocket, which he also shoves into my hands.
“Your room key. The room is paid up for three nights. And a travel voucher. The bus station is within walking distance. If you ask me, it’s more than you deserve.
Now, if there isn’t anything else, I’d like to be on my way. ”
“Thank you,” I tell him. My voice and expression are a careful, solemn mask, but I hope he can read the honesty in my words. They’d be true even if he really was throwing me out on my ass.
Cory swallows and looks pointedly at me. His voice lowers. “Whatever you were feeling back there when we left the compound, hold on to that. You’re a shit actor. Too fucking happy all the goddamned time.”
I have to press my lips together to keep from smiling at his back as he rounds the vehicle. He shoots me one last look, then gets in and drives away.
As I watch the taillights disappear into the distance, I wonder if this guy will even answer me if I text him. For all I know, he has me blocked and isn’t interested in me now that he’s effectively ruined me as far as he’s aware.
Turns out I don’t have to wait long to find out.
I’ve barely gotten into my hotel room and unpacked my things so I can dry out my bag when my phone buzzes.
Unknown: I hate to say I told you so, but…
Scott: This is all your fault.
Unknown: Prove it. Oh wait, you can’t.
Scott: Congratulations, you ruined my life. Are you happy now?
The phone rings, the unknown number flashing on the screen. I don’t answer it, waiting for him to call back a second time. When he does, I wait until just before the call disconnects.
“What do you want?”
“As much as I enjoy being proven right, I’m not happy,” the man says, his voice thick with mock sympathy.
“Well, if you didn’t call to gloat, what the fuck are you bothering me for?”
“Actually, I want to help you.”
I scoff. “You’re the one who did this to me.”
“Am I? Because I wasn’t the one who accused you of being a gold digger. A nobody after his fifteen minutes of fame, was it?”
“You… You were listening? How?”
“I will say that you’re not very good at your job. I probably did them a favor as well as you.”
“In what way were you doing me a favor?”
“I heard everything, Mr. Riley. I heard you beg, not for your job, but for him to love you. It was quite touching.”
“How dare you—”
“Do you see it now, Scott? Do you see what they’re like? They didn’t even give you a chance to prove your innocence before they kicked you to the curb.”
“It’s not the job I cared about.”
“Clearly, which makes this so much worse.”
“What do you mean?”
He lets out an irritated huff. “You’re so blinded by your infatuation with Naz Lester that you haven’t gotten it through your thick head, have you?
Whatever relationship you thought you had with him—with any of them—was a one-sided fantasy.
He never cared for you, he said it himself.
You were just there until he got bored.”
“He was just angry.”
“Scott,” he tsks. “I know these people. I knew them when they were nobodies, and I made them stars.”
If I wasn’t so blown away by the audacity, I might laugh. Not only because he’s full of shit– Lest Is Moore are stars in their own right. They were born stars, it’s who they are. But because he just gave himself away.
Not realizing that he just gave me what I need, Francis keeps talking, ranting about how awful the guys are and what they did to him.
“They used me, used my connections and my talents, worked me until I was a mere shell of myself, and then they used me as a scapegoat for their indiscretions. All the drug use, the sex parties, the other people they used and discarded. Not only did I have to work night and day to cover it up, but when they got caught, they blamed it all on me.”
He’s breathing hard, all worked up from his ranting. With this much hate and vitriol built up inside him, I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t escalated to actual violence yet.
“When it was all said and done, they had the audacity to threaten me with completely unfounded legal charges if I didn’t sign their bogus paperwork. And even after I complied with everything they told me, they made sure I was blacklisted from working in the business ever again.”
“How could they do that?” I ask, feigning outrage and worry that the same could happen to me.
“They can, and they will. I guarantee the same thing will happen to you.”
“They wouldn’t—”
“They would!” he shouts. “They’ve done it before, and they’ll do it again. Have you learned nothing from everything that’s happened?”
“I just don’t want to believe it.”
“Well, start believing because it’s happening. Right now. Take a good, hard look at where you are right now. Let me guess, they dumped you in some cheap hotel with a plane ticket home to Nebraska or wherever you’re from?”
I make a choking sound. “Uh… A motel. And a bus voucher.”
He curses under his breath. “That’s even worse! You know what your problem is, Scott? You have all that size and muscle, but you let people walk all over you. How could you let them treat you like that?”
“I didn’t know I had any choice in the matter.”
“You always have a choice, Scott. You don’t have to take this.”
I let a long silence stretch between us, keeping the receiver close so he can hear my breathing and know I’m still there. He can probably hear the nervousness in my voice, and I let him. If anything, it’s making him think he can intimidate and manipulate me.
“What do I do?”