Black & White (Picture Perfect #1) (17 page)

I tucked my fingers under her chin and gently drew her head up so she was looking at me. Her eyes were full of hurt. Whatever she had to ask me was painful for her.

I nodded.

"Have you grieved? Like, really grieved?" She barely whispered, and I could see the pain in her eyes.

It felt like I’d been stabbed in the chest with a red-hot poker. It was now my turn to put up the defenses. She wouldn't let me in, and yet she expected me to open up to her? "Why the hell would you ask me that?" The defense was thick in my voice. "Didn't I cry on your shoulder, let it all out - bare my soul to you?" She was visibly shaking and I knew I was scaring her. My voice was hard and guarded as I continued. "I did it, Beth. I trusted our friendship enough to lower my defenses, so why can't you?" I felt terrible for pouncing on her like this, but something had to give. Why was she fighting this thing between us?

"Because there's nothing for me to grieve. Unlike you, I didn't lose something which meant everything to me. You lost your one true love. You lost the one thing which meant so much to you. In the process you gained something so precious, and she is so innocent and needs you, William. She needs your attention to be solely on her." The logic was sound, I couldn’t argue with her. Beth continued, "I'd just be a complication, a complication you don't need. I'm a package, William, a big, heavy package." She paused and squared her shoulders. "I'm sorry for what I did. I shouldn't have given you mixed signals. It was never my intention."

I was getting whiplash from her thought processes. She was all over the board. "There’s something about you that is so special. I told you I would always be honest, so I won't deny that I feel something for you," she admitted quietly.

She feels it. She's admitting it. Go with it, Beth. Feel it.

"But I can't allow us to be anything more than friends. We need to stop this now, before I hurt you. We need to put our emotions aside and just be friends."

Damn, my neck hurts from this whiplash.

I let her continue. Maybe, just maybe, I could make sense of what she was trying to convince herself about. "For Angel's sake, let's just be friends. I can't be what you need. You're not ready and what I did was unforgivable. All I did was throw your emotions into a tailspin." She sounded resolved about that particular comment.

I was absolutely floored. "I don't understand, Beth, why do you want to deny there's something between us? Just explain that part to me." I seriously needed to gain an understanding of why she didn't believe she was capable of sharing something wonderful with someone.

"My parents divorced when I was just a child. I was torn away from my father and Wyatt, forced to live in Houston with my mother." I could see the anger in Beth's eyes. I knew the divorce had something to do with her feelings, but was it really rooted that deeply inside her? "If they didn't have true love for each other, then why did they get married? Why did they have Wyatt and me? All they managed to do was show me that love is tainted and unforgiving. No child should have to witness that. Getting involved with someone leaves the possibility that I will hurt them. I know it."

It was starting to make some sense, and I sensed that her last comment was part of the key to understanding where Beth’s head was at. There was something bigger here, something other than her parents' divorce. She had already been involved with someone else. I felt her pain and I wanted to help her, prove to her that it could be different. She needed to know it could be different from whatever she had been through in the past.

"I'm not going to sit back and watch someone I love, someone I devote myself to, become like my father. It's unfair. The world is unfair, relationships are unfair. It's cruel to think I could do that to someone. I'm sorry, William, but no. I won't do that to you or Angel."

She seemed completely convinced that everything she was saying made sense. Maybe to her it did, but to me, it just seemed ludicrous. Maybe I had read her actions wrong, but those actions had shown me there was a chance I could be happy again. Maybe I could love someone while still holding Angelina in my heart. I knew now that I definitely had a mission to complete. Beth said she wanted to bring me back to life - well, I was going to show her how to allow herself to love. Life wasn't worth living when love wasn't involved.

She certainly was doing her best trying to convince me. "William, let's make a pact. Let's just stay friends. Let's not ruin what we have because of a mistake I made. Everyone's worried about you, me, us, for their own reasons. Hell, I'm worried and you should be too."

"I get that. They can't seem to keep their opinions to themselves." I did understand what she was saying. I had to listen to Anne's constant jabbering about Beth. Michael was constantly worrying about me. I was growing tired of all of it. "But, Beth, I'm not going to stop trying. I'm not worried."
I'm an adult; I can decide for myself what I want.

"William, I don't see a future for us beyond being friends," she argued, but I knew she wasn't being honest with herself. I saw her when we touched, and it was as if a switch was turned on. The dance we’d shared, or the mistake as she wanted to call it, was a wake-up call. I knew there was still a life for me out there and I was convinced Beth was supposed to be a part of it.

"I don't know if it was fate the first time I came into the studio, but it happened for a reason. I never take that route home. I've never walked down that street before. It was like there was a hand on my shoulder, pushing me in that direction." I was trying to make a point, that maybe we had a future together - maybe it wasn't just a coincidence.

She seemed enthralled with my confession, so I continued while I had her complete attention. "There's something between us and we both know it, we both admit it. So if you want to fight
against
there being an 'us', I'm going to fight
for
'us'." My decision was made and out on the table.

Beth shook her head in frustration, "You're stubborn, you know that, right?"

I chuckled, "I'm as stubborn as you are independent."
And I won't give up.

"Hey, you two."

I sighed. Of course, just as we're finally getting somewhere, I get blocked again. I looked up as Wyatt arrived at the table and sat in the seat across from us.

"Have you two been in here the whole time?" Wyatt asked curiously. "We've been searching everywhere for you guys."

"Wyatt, shut up." Beth was obviously still pissed at him. "I'm not talking to you right now."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Wyatt raised his hands in surrender. "Don't you hit me too!"

"You're lucky I don't kick you in the balls," Beth hissed.

"Hey, you promised never to do that again." Wyatt turned so he had himself protected. "I do want kids someday."

"Fine, then I want a promise from you." Beth leaned across the table.

"What's the promise?"

"If you value your balls, you'll promise anything," Beth challenged.

Wyatt winked at me. "Good luck man, you're gonna need it." Looking back at Beth, he asked again. "What?"

"My life, my rules, and stay the hell out of it." She spoke in a strong voice. "And that includes any stupid comments."

Wyatt's eyes widened. "Fine." He sighed, realizing what he had just agreed to. "Look, Jude's pissed at me. She realizes she made a mistake and pointed out that I just made exactly the same mistake. It was only a joke, I swear, but I did cross the line."

"Fucking right you did.” Beth glanced around. “Where is Jude, anyway?"

"I dunno. She and Anne are both pissed." Wyatt actually had a scared expression on his face. Hell, if I was surrounded by three pissed off women, I'd be scared too.

"Wyatt, you are such a man." Beth banged her head against the table. "Mercedes hit on you and William. Fuck, I can imagine how nasty it could have been if Michael had been targeted as well."

"Well, Mercedes' done worse," Wyatt admitted.

Beth's eyes bulged with a sudden flash of insight. "Oh my god, Wyatt, you didn't tell that to Jude?" Beth snarled.

"Well, yeah." Wyatt sounded completely innocent. Even I knew a mistake when I heard one.

"No wonder she fucking hit ya." Beth pushed herself out of the booth. "I’d better go find her and make sure she doesn't go to jail."

Beth gave me a quick 'we'll finish this conversation later' look. I turned my attention back to Wyatt as Beth headed out of the dining area.

"You know you screwed up with Jude, right?" I asked innocently.

"Yeah, but she'll get over it." Wyatt answered as he watched Beth disappear. "Now, you and I are going to talk."

I felt trapped, but responded calmly. "I thought you just agreed, her life, her rules."

"Oh, I know. This is about you," Wyatt said, with a very protective big-brother attitude. "Listen, William. If this goes bad, whatever ‘
this’
is, it affects you, me and Michael. We have to work together. I need that job and I'm sure you do too."

“What's going on between me and Beth has nothing to do with you, my family or our jobs. It's for us to explore and figure out for ourselves.” I hoped I could get Wyatt to just back off. “Beth is... breathtaking. She's stolen away a piece of my heart. It's up to her now to decide what to do with it.”

Wyatt was silent for a little longer than I was comfortable with. He was studying me, but I had no idea what he was looking for. "I'm just gonna warn you once, William - don't hurt her or I'll make you hurt," Wyatt warned. "But on the other hand, I want my sister to be happy, so I'll help in any way possible."

I took in a refreshing breath. At least now I had one Huntley on my side. The hardest part was gonna be getting his sister to see reason.

Chapter Twelve

Beth

I lounged in the chair in the living room, coffee in one hand and my cell phone in the other. There was an unexpected smile on my face as I glanced down at the latest text from William.

Ever since our talk on Friday night, he had been texting me constantly, since I had been avoiding his calls. He was taking this new stubborn streak to the extreme.

He had been giving me his history, trying to convince me of who he was. He hadn't been the typical teenager. He never partied, only having Angelina as a girlfriend throughout high school. He had been a bit of a nerd; both a straight ‘A’ student and artist.

I wasn’t bothered by the idea that he had been a nerd. I was more curious about it. Being such a model student, why didn't he go to college or even university? He had obviously been with Angelina for many years, but with a six month old baby, that couldn't be the reason why he hadn't gone on for an higher education. Why was he working construction when his passion was art?

I wondered what his paintings were like. He had been passionate that night at the PAM as we moved from picture to picture. He knew the different brush strokes, the reasons they were used. Hell, he even knew the difference between realism and abstract, and why the painter had used a particular style to tell his story. He could read a painting like some people read books - his knowledge of art was equivalent to my knowledge of photography. It was something he clearly enjoyed, so why hadn't he steered in that direction?

I had never thought of paintings as telling a story, but with William's expansive explanations, it all made sense. There were similarities between painting and photography. We both used our formats to convey a message and to capture beauty in a timeless fashion.

Btw, photos are done.
I took a sip of my coffee while I waited for his response.

Really? Fast.

I smiled as I typed.
Not fast... easy... didn't have to fake anything.

It really had been easy to finish the photos. William and Angel were naturals in front of the camera. I had plans to ask William's permission to blow up one of the photos, and hang it in the front area of the studio. It was becoming a gallery of accomplishments. My best work was displayed there.

Never fake anything with me... OK?
His next text caught me off guard. I took a deep, ragged breath to calm myself. He had promised he wouldn't give up. I wasn't mad he was trying, just frustrated at the idea of him wasting his time on something I would never allow to happen.

Yeah.
It was all I could manage as a response. How do you even respond to a comment like that? I typed quickly to divert William from where I knew this conversation would eventually go.
Can we meet today?

I pushed myself out of the chair, heading to the kitchen for a refill of my coffee, I picked the phone off the counter as it chimed.
Sundays are family dinner.

Oh! Sorry.
I typed, as I headed back to the living room.

NW... you could come here... M&D would love to see the pictures

I fell into the chair, floored by what William was suggesting. He wanted me to meet his parents. Wouldn't that be a little awkward for everyone? I shouldn't be meeting parents, they might get the wrong idea. I mentally shook myself, I was thinking about this the wrong way. I would only be going there to deliver the photos, not to specifically meet his parents. Of course they would be excited to see photos of their granddaughter. Who wouldn't be?

What time?

A door opened and closed, and I knew either Wyatt or Jude was up. My phone chimed again.
Around 3.

Sounds good.

Angel wants Daddy... ttyl.

K.

Jude, in full hangover mode, shuffled her way out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. "Morning, Beth."

"Morning, Jude," I replied. I set my phone to vibrate and shoved it in my pocket. It was time for us to clear the air about a few things.

I waited patiently for her to pour herself a coffee and join me in the living room. She sat on the couch, in front of the picture window.

"Jude, can we talk?" I asked quietly as I fiddled with my cuff. I didn't know how to approach this. There was so much going on in my life right now. I wasn't use to having in-depth conversations, especially about me, but it had been happening a lot recently.

"Beth, can I say something first?" Jude responded with a question of her own. She obviously knew this conversation had been coming. She had prepared herself, she wasn't going to try and weasel her way out of it.

I took a long drink of my coffee before nodding cautiously.

"I want to apologize for everything I did. I shouldn't have gotten involved." She was being so sincere and sounded regretful at the same time.

"Jude, it's fine... now." I said, as I moved from the chair to the opposite end of the couch. "I wasn't happy with you at first. Then to discover Anne was involved too, really left me pissed, but you weren't out to hurt me or William. I realize that now."

Jude continued to look out the window, refusing to meet my gaze. "I know you both have your reservations, Beth. I just know there’s more out there for you than what you've seen or experienced to date."

Which opened up the area I wanted to talk to Jude about. She understood without saying it, what the lines were and where she had crossed them. We now had an understanding about William, I hoped.

"Jude, I've been thinking about Mercedes," I stated, my gaze focused on the coffee cup, my thumb circling the rim nervously. It was the only thing that kept me from playing with my leather cuff.

"I haven't been able to think of anything else. She knows something, Beth." Her voice wavered, confirming Jude was nervous too.

"You haven't told Wyatt about what happened in New York, the real reason we came home?" I knew it was a stupid question, but I just had to hear confirmation.

"Never, oh God, Beth, never! I pinky swore I wouldn't. He's still blind to the real reason, he only knows what we told him. Besides, I don't want to lose Wyatt." Jude sounded horrified.

I looked up to see her shaking. "You wouldn't lose him, Jude. He wouldn't leave you over it."

"If he knew the truth, Wyatt fly to New York and kill Ivan," Jude replied, glancing towards the hallway, ensuring we were still alone. "Wyatt has a temper; we've both seen it. I know he'd do it."

It was my turn to shiver in fear. She was right. If Wyatt ever found out about what Ivan had done... damn, I couldn't even conjure up the image, it was too horrific to contemplate. Wyatt was too protective sometimes. He had gone after a few bad seeds in high school, to protect Jude and I. It was in his nature, but in order to protect him from himself, we had to keep what happened between us.

"Jude, I can't figure out how. How did Mercedes find out about New York?" I was trying desperately to fit the puzzle pieces together.

"I think I'm to blame." Silent tears slid down Jude's face.

"What? How?" I was confused. Did Jude say something to Mercedes? I immediately rejected the thought. No, not Jude, she would never do something like that.

"Think about it, Beth. She's been obsessed with me for years. Jerry told me she's been fighting to get out of here since I first made it big. She's been following my career from day one." Jude fidgeted on the couch.

"But, that doesn't explain me." I was still trying to follow her thought process.

"Izzy Tabac is the only person who was ever allowed to photograph me. I was a famous model, whatever I demanded I got." Her voice was growing more confident as her faith grew in her reasoning.

I was beginning to understand her theory. "You think she found out I'm Izzy Tabac?" I asked. Knots of anxiety tightened in my gut. The more I thought about the prospect the queasier I became.

"I don't doubt it. She might have only guessed it, but Izzy Tabac disappeared when you reappeared in Portland. Anyone who knows either of us, or has obsessed about either of us, could probably figure it out." Jude definitely sounded confident and every word made sense. My gut instinct told me she was right.

"An internet search would give her the news reports about me. She wouldn't have all the details, or any pictures to go with it, but there would be enough information available to make my life difficult." I shuddered at the thought of what Mercedes could do with any information she’d collected. My stomach was roiling with nerves, I suspected I was going to be sick. “If she could find out that information...?”

"Beth, it won't happen. If he hasn't shown up by now..." Jude reached out and rested her hand over my twitching fingers. "Stop digging at your wrists, Beth."

I looked down at the cuff I had been absently picking at. "Why me, Jude? Why would she come after me that way?"

"She wants what I had. If she figured out you’re the famous and mysterious Izzy Tabac, who picked and chose her models to photograph... the only photographer the famous model, Judy Snow would allow to photograph her... fuck, she'd be hell-bent on finding a way to force you to give her ‘modeling career’ a push."

I continued to focus on the cuff, what lie underneath was an everlasting reminder of Ivan. "Do you think that's why she wanted me to do her photos?"

Jude inhaled sharply. "I think so. She wants everything I had and if your photos of me started it all, then she'll be more determined than ever to get those shots."

"But I did the photos already," I argued. I couldn't seem to stop shaking. The thought of Ivan reappearing in my life was enough to make the world sway back and forth before my eyes. "What more does she want?"

"After the way we treated her, I think she wants everything I have. All of it, and that includes what you have," Jude declared.

"Wyatt and, now, William." I prayed I was wrong. Not William. I was pulling an innocent man into the claws of a predator. It wasn't right, it wasn't fair.

"Yeah. We've made this a game for her. She's playing for keeps and it doesn't matter how fucked up it gets, as long as she wins."

"What are we going to do if we're right?" I whispered. “She's so fucking warped with this kind of thinking. She's dangerous, Jude.”

"If we have to, Beth, we'll tell Wyatt and your Dad everything. We'll put a stop to it before it happens." Jude's voice was determined.

"What if
he
does
comes here looking for me? Do you think she'd go that far?" I was terrified. I couldn't go through it again. There were permanent scars, physical and mental, from the relationship with Ivan. It was another reason I knew I wasn't good enough for anyone. I wasn't even good enough for myself.

Jude was about to answer my questions when we were cut off by Wyatt. He chose the worst time in the world to wake up. I glanced up as he walked into the living room.

"Am I interrupting?" He sounded concerned. He was always the strong, protective one, saving me from the world. I tried to hide my emotions as best I could, not wanting him to guess something was wrong.

The conversation was over, but I still wanted an answer to my questions. Unfortunately, now wasn't the time. I jumped off the couch and ran my hand across my face, erasing the worry lines. "Nope, I think Jude and I are okay for now." I silently thanked Mom for those stupid acting lessons.

"Good, I hated walking around on eggshells." He smiled.

I moved past him, slapping him on the chest, satisfied to hear a resounding thud. "You couldn't possibly walk on eggshells. You're like a tree in the forest."

Jude giggled behind me. As I walked down the hallway to my bedroom, I heard Wyatt ask, "What the hell does that mean?"

~~~~~~~~~~

I parked my SUV on the road in front of William's house. The last time I had seen the house had been at night. My first daytime view was completely different.

The best word to describe it was quaint. It was a small house compared to some of the newer houses on the block. It was well maintained though. The light blue paint of the two story house was highlighted with white trim around the windows, doors and porch.

The finely trimmed grass was yellowing in some areas. The leaves had been raked up recently, leaving the walkway clear. There was no evidence that any weeds or grass had ever grown through the cracks. Someone took great care of the home.

I stepped on to the porch and glanced down at the welcome mat. I wasn't surprised to find it there. Looking back, I wondered if I had missed the white picket fence, chuckling to myself at the ridiculous notion.

I knocked and stepped back, waiting patiently. The door flew open and I almost fell off the small porch as Anne leapt into my arms.

"Beth, hi, welcome, come on in." Her words flew out of her mouth at a mile a minute.

I smiled, understanding how Anne and Jude could get along so well. They were both talkers, which naturally made them the center of attention. There would be issues down the line because of it, for sure.

I stepped in, closing the door behind me. There were shoes lined up against the wall and I immediately removed mine. I followed Anne to the living room, which was just off to the left of the small entrance way. The room was tiny, but even with all the furniture, photos and other trinkets cluttering the small space, it gave a sense of home. The photos which lined the walls were all family related. William and Anne as children comprised a large majority of them.