Ah, the age-old threat, the one that I’m wise to now. And tonight, I actually have the balls to say it, the thought of Evie giving me the courage.
Slowly, I turn back to Ava and shake my head. “You won’t cut me off. And do you know why?” I take a step toward her. “Because you need me. You cut me off, and when Eric eventually dies—which won’t be long if he keeps up using drugs the way he is—with no son to inherit the studio, the studio goes straight to Uncle Richard. And you know how much he hates you. With Richard in control, your career will end as quickly as it began because Richard will put your ass out on the street. Then, all you’ll be is just another washed-up has-been who was once famous.” My chest is heaving. I’m so fucking angry.
She stares at me for a long moment. If she looks could kill, I’d be stone-cold dead.
Then, she picks up her purse and stands. “Don’t ever threaten me again, Adam. It would be a mistake to do so.”
She turns and walks out of my house.
I don’t breathe until I hear the front door slam shut, knowing that she’s gone.
I’m shaking. I clench my fists in and out, trying to calm myself. My only thought now is being with Evie.
I wait another minute, making sure Ava is gone, before grabbing my car keys.
I climb into the McLaren and turn the engine on. “Hotel California” by The Eagles is playing on the radio, and I can’t help but laugh at the irony.
That’s me. I can check out anytime I want, but I can never leave.
I can come to Malibu and hide here for a year, but ultimately, I’ll go back because I have to. It’s my predetermined fate.
I can never get away from the fact that I’m a Gunner.
Hands gripping the steering wheel, I lean my head forward against them and close my eyes. I take deep breaths in and out through my nose.
Evie.
She’s my way out. She’s so strong, so full of life. She’s my light at the end of this dark fucking tunnel called my life. I can get out with her by my side.
I lift my head, feeling a sense of purpose I’ve never felt before, and then I’m out of there and heading straight to her place.
I’ve never driven so fast before in my life. I’m surprised I don’t get pulled over.
I pull up with a screech of tires outside her building. I run inside, taking the stairs two at a time. I bang on her front door, trying to catch my breath.
Her dad opens the door.
“Mr. Taylor,” I say, out of breath. “Is Evie here?”
“Adam, for the hundredth time, call me Mick.” He chuckles. Then, his expression turns a little more serious. “Is everything okay? Because Evie came home in a less than happy mood earlier.”
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Aside from my devil bitch of a mother turning up, and in my attempt to protect Evie from her, I ended up hurting her feelings.
I hold his steely gaze, my own giving nothing away.
He gives me a dubious look and then pushes the door open wider, standing aside, letting me in. “Evie’s in her room. And you know the rules. Door stays open.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Taylor—I mean, Mick. Hey, Case.” I wave to her as I cut through the living room, heading for Evie’s room.
“Hey, Adam.” She lifts her head from her book, giving me a wave and a smile.
I walk down the short hall toward Evie’s bedroom. Stopping outside her door, I hear the angry sounds of Christina Aguilera’s “Fighter” coming from inside her room.
Definitely not a good sign.
Taking a deep breath, I knock on her door.
“I’m sleeping, Dad!” she yells. But her voice sounds off.
I open the door, letting myself in. She’s turned away from me, facing the wall her bed is set against.
“Hey, babe,” I say softly.
Her body stiffens at the sound of my voice. Her response to me makes me feel ill.
“Can I come in?”
“What are you asking me for? You’re already in my room without my permission.” She sits up and turns the music off. Then, she presses her back to the headboard, her knees bent, arms around them.
I examine her face. Her eyes are red. She’s been crying.
My heart twists painfully in my chest.
I move across the room, sitting beside her. “Evie.”
I reach for her, but she wards me off with her hands.
The rejection stings like a bitch.
“I don’t know what just happened back there, at your house, but I didn’t like it. Max told me a little, that your mom is a bitch—his words, not mine—”
“She is a bitch.”
“I know you’ve told me before that she’s not a good person. But you never talk about your family. All I know is that your mom is Ava Gunner, the movie actress, and your dad owns a movie studio that will be yours one day, but you don’t actually want it. And that’s all I know.
“Then, your mother turns up today, and I have never been more uncomfortable in my whole life. The way she talked to me—and worse, the things she said to you—it was awful, Adam. But what was worse was the way you treated me. You said that”—her eyes fill with tears again, her lip trembling—“I was nothing. A friend. Your friend, for God’s sake. Is what we’ve been doing what friends do? You told her that we’re not really seeing each other.
“So, what was that, Adam? Your way of blowing me off? Or…or are you…are you just ashamed of me because I don’t come from money, like your family?”