Malibu Betrayals (24 page)

Her stomach rolled. Nothing made sense. Sam blinked rapidly and took a step backward. If she didn’t know better herself, the pictures would make her question the truth.
Oh my God, is that really what people think? That she and Gage had been having an affair, poor Ethan?
Sam shook her head “No.” It couldn’t be.

Brigitte screeched as the officers dragged her back from the ropes. “Give me the photos, you whore.”

The paparazzi stepped back, forced behind the ropes. Finally, a path cleared for Sam. She made her way back toward the road as Gage’s car pulled up. The crowd burst into an uproar as he exited and stepped onto the red carpet. She gulped for air as she held her hand to her stomach.

He looked at her with concern. “What’s going on?”

She looked at Gage and saw a beautiful man who couldn’t breathe without it being caught on tape, and then she glanced down at her shaking hands and the ugly, heavy load she carried. Anything they tried to do would be tainted by an ugly past. She closed her eyes against the pain. They’d never make it out alive, and the man she loved needed the chance to try.

Gage looked at the magazine she held, his brows drew together, and he shook his head. “What is this?”

Martin stepped up with Raquel just then. “Sam.”

She looked into Gage’s eyes, a vivid, intense blue in his confusion and concern. Sadness weighed heavy in her heart and sobs clawed up her throat. She had to let him go, or he’d never have a chance at the career he wanted, the life he dreamed about—the life she didn’t want. For his own good, and hers.

Stepping to him, she spoke close to his ear, the cacophony of the crowd around them making it almost impossible to hear. Panic left her fingers numb, and she clenched them together. She needed to get out of there before she broke down in front of everyone. The kindest thing she could do was make it fast and give him his life back. “I love you. This just isn’t the life I want. It will only ruin us. Goodbye, Gage.” She stepped back, and her eyes filled with tears that escaped down her cheeks.

He put out a hand to stop her. “Sam, wait. I can’t…I don’t understand.”

The crowd grew louder with every word, and her world threatened to turn black. She gazed into his eyes for a fleeting second, and then brushed past him. She hurt, physically hurt.

Gage grabbed her arm, desperation in his voice. “Sam, you don’t need to do this.”

Her chest squeezed, and she couldn’t breathe. “Yes, I do. You don’t see it right now, but you will.” Cameras flashed, blinding her, a multitude of heads bent furiously, writing the event down on notepads or punching them into smart phones. Recording it for prosperity.

She shook her head, exhausted. “It’s too much, please… Let me go.”

The chauffeur shifted back and forth on his feet. He grabbed onto the handle, but hesitated, waiting for Gage to direct him.

Sam settled back in her seat. Her lungs burned, and she pulled in huge gulps of air. Gage stood facing the opened door for a beat. With a flick of his wrist, he gestured to the chauffeur and closed the door with a
thunk
.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Raquel and Mrs. Dekker spoke softly in the kitchen of the Dekkers’ apartment. The muffled cadence of their voices washed over Sam in a steady hum. She lay on the couch, curled up in a ball, a tissue fisted in her hand. She swiped at her nose as more tears fell, then threw the overused tissue into a pile on the floor. A box of Kleenex sat beside the white, soggy corpses. Sam grabbed another from the top and blew her nose.

She curled tighter, pulling her knees up against the sharp pains in her stomach.

The local news had covered every agonizing moment of the debacle. They’d titled it the Carpet Massacre: Talk about Running Red. Her mother had unplugged the T.V. “Don’t watch this garbage, honey. They’re parasites capitalizing on someone else’s pain.”

Sam agreed.
People
were cruel. She might be one of them. But that fact didn’t change a thing. She and Gage would have never worked, and she’d known that. But damned if she hadn’t fallen in love with him anyway.

Her mother approached the couch with a hot cup of tea. “Here, honey, sit up. Drink this.”

“I don’t want anything.”

Raquel stepped beside Sam’s mother. “Darling, don’t argue.” She then stepped over to the sliding glass doors and opened the blinds.

Sam shielded her eyes. “Shut those. I just want to sleep.”

Raquel shook her head and then went one step further and opened the doors, letting a warm breeze into the living room. “Absolutely not. It’s been two days. You’ve turned your parents’ home into a morgue. You’ve run your father off. Enough is enough.”

Sam turned to her mother. “Mom,” she pleaded.

Dee smiled. “I’m sorry, Sam, but Raquel’s right. I should have done the same thing already. Sit up.” Her mother tapped her hip until she did as she was told.

Raquel walked through to the kitchen and rummaged a moment in the pantry. She returned with a garbage bag, filling it with Sam’s litter of tears. “There. That’s a start.”

In seconds, the two women had the room aired out, Diana Krall singing low on the stereo, and each of them settled in chairs, facing Sam with their own tea.

Sam wrapped her hands weakly around her teacup. She tucked her head, breathing the spicy aroma in through her sore nose, then gingerly took a sip. The brew cleansed her mouth and warmed her aching throat. She raised her head and settled back into the corner of the couch.

Raquel and Dee exchanged glances.

Sam narrowed her eyes, which didn’t take much. They were so puffy from crying they were half shut already. “What?” Her voice was raw and strained.

Her mother nodded at Raquel.

Raquel sipped her tea, her silver and blue-jeweled bangle bracelets jingling with the movement. A flowing summer dress in turquoise spread over her legs, the hem brushing her strappy silver sandals.

Sam brushed her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ears. She glanced down at her wrinkled and worn T-shirt. Nothing could help that.

Raquel cupped her tea. “Darling, we need to talk.”

Sam lifted her brows.

“The incident has created a bit of a buzz, you could say.” Raquel fingered the turquoise earring dangling from her ear.

Dee continued, “Honey, Gage is holding a press conference with his official comments about the accusations in the magazines.”

Sam stared.

“It’s been hard on him, and he’s had to face it all alone.” Her mother sipped her tea and glanced at Raquel.

Why the two women tiptoed around the subject, Sam didn’t understand. She’d been a snotty, sobbing mess for the past couple of days. Everyone knew what had happened. The urge to just yell at them to spit it out pushed at her. She wanted to yell, because anything would be better than crying anymore. “I told you, he’s better without me. His career won’t survive the suspicion of attempted murder. I won’t hurt him anymore.” Her eyes filled, and she wiped at them for the umpteenth time.

Raquel narrowed her eyes. “That’s the easy way out, Samantha. You get to hide in your mommy’s house, shielded, protected from the paparazzi. You aren’t in the public eye with obligations to answer personal, intimate questions.”

Resentment settled in Sam’s chest. One of the reasons she couldn’t be with Gage was because if she were, there would be no hiding. Being an actor was his choice, so unfortunately he had to pay the piper. It was harsh but true. He was a strong man and would get through it.

Fresh tears filled her eyes, and she blew her sore nose. She wasn’t made of the same stuff, and the other night proved that. She couldn’t do it. “Gage has a lot riding on this film, changing careers, repairing his reputation. Being with me is damaging his chances to finally step clear of his past by keeping him tied there. With the whole Dani situation, and his mom…” She spoke through her tears. “He doesn’t need any more crap holding him down. Besides, he’s a different kind of person than I am. He can handle it.”

Dee expelled an exasperated sigh. “Really, Sam? He’s exactly who you thought he was. Human, first of all, prone to mistakes, failing due to pride, pushing people he loves away when he’s hurting. You’re just like him.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “I am not.”

Her mother raised a brow and pressed her lips together.

Sam drained her teacup, then set it aside. “It doesn’t matter. I need to find my own way. I need to be independent, learn how to count on myself. I can’t do any of that by letting someone else take care of me, and I certainly can’t do that knowing my past could hurt his future.”

Raquel rolled her eyes. “Oh, piss.”

“Raquel!”

Raquel scooted forward to the edge of her seat, draping her arms, one over the other, on top of her knees. “You think you’re so independent—or that you need to be. You’re proving that how? By throwing Gage under the bus? Pushing him out of your life? You’re not independent if you’re allowing Ethan Evans’ family—of all people—to control the direction of your life. Or allowing anyone else to, for that matter. You’re just using Gage to avoid facing your own misguided sense of responsibility when neither of you are to blame.”

“Honey, why in the hell are you letting Ethan control you from the grave? Your father and I never understood it before, but now?” Dee asked.

She stretched her hand out to her daughter. “Being with Gage wouldn’t be about him taking care of you, but you taking care of each other.”

Just then, her father walked into the room. Sam had no idea he’d even returned or been home in the first place. He stepped in front of her and looked down his nose at the crumpled heap she made on the sofa. “You need to get your beautiful head out of your ass.”

“Dad.” Sam gasped.

“I’ve had my say.” Mr. Dekker walked into the kitchen.

Her mother nodded. “He’s right.” She tilted her head and offered Sam a kind smile. “We love you, honey, but you’re making a mistake. I don’t believe Gage should face the masses on his own. Don’t think I’m not aware of what had been happening on set, and how hard he worked to keep you safe.” She placed her other hand against her chest. “I owe him for helping my baby. No offense, but neither dating a writer, or the ex-wife of Ethan Evans helps his reputation in any way, nor will it ruin his reputation. It will all blow over, but he shouldn’t have to weather the storm alone.”

Could they be right? Would it all pass? The idea of being hurt or hurting Gage any further made her heart ache, but not risking it, not being with him, wasn’t living. She’d made a rule not to date celebrities and then broke it for Ethan, but she could finally see that so much of it had to do with how sick he was and nothing else. The lifestyle still scared her, but now that she faced her future free of it, free of Gage, her terror knew no bounds. She would learn to live one day at a time, handle challenges one day at a time. If she pictured Gage by her side, she could see her shoulders back and her chin lifted, and she liked the view.

An image of Gage facing all the parasites that attended press conferences searching for fresh blood settled in her mind, and the uncomfortably familiar weight of guilt pressed down on her shoulders.

She’d put him in the spotlight by not standing with him. Sam stretched her tight muscles. The conversation with her mother and Raquel repeated ad nauseam in her mind as if they continued to speak right in front of her; nothing shut them up. She stood, and three tissues fell to the floor. Scooping them up, she then shoved them in the trash and pulled in a breath. Time for her pity-party to end.

“Where are you going?” her mother asked in a soft voice.

Sam glanced over her shoulder. “I’m going to run home and shower.”

“Wait, I’ll go with you.”

“Mom, the movie’s wrapped up; nothing else has happened. I’m fine. I’ll call you as soon as I get home.”

The two women stood, and Raquel smiled. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, but I have to start somewhere.”

A short time later, she stood under the spray of her shower, rinsing the suds from her skin. It felt good to be back in her home, though she missed the sounds of Gage cooking in the kitchen or running lines in the living room. His place or hers, it didn’t matter. His presence made it warmer, safer—home.

She’d been terrified and so determined to show her independence. But at what cost? Did she really feel the hassles of Hollywood and their individual baggage—great as they may be—were worth losing the man she loved over? Losing the one person who really loved her? Was the time she’d spent without him since the premiere happier than the time she spent with him?

In shorts and a tee, she stepped barefoot onto her balcony. The usually calming rhythm of the waves failed to soothe her, and the sun shone with less light, the sky a murky blue. Anyone else would sing the praises of a beautiful day—funny how losing the love of your life took the color of the world right along with them.

Gage.

At every turn, he’d tried to help her. Take care of her. Love her. She fought his every attempt, striking out, running away—making it worse.

Yet he remained strong and determined. She straightened. All that strength, and she knew what was best for him? She placed her palm on her forehead. His career, his life. Whether or not she was part of it should have been partially his decision.

She sighed and shook her head, dropping her chin to her chest. She’d been the greatest fool. The waves called to her, and she looked down the length of the beach. Pushing away from the railing, she stepped down the few steps off her porch. The summer sun warmed her face as the soft particles of sand warmed her feet. She wiggled her toes until her pink polish disappeared underneath the grains.

“I thought you’d never come out of your hole.”

Sam jumped and spun around, her heart in her throat.

Dani strode toward her, but Sam blinked twice. This woman didn’t look like Dani at all. A tight dress hugged her curves, all but pushing her breasts from the neckline. Her blond hair, usually shoved inside her messengers cap, fell past her shoulders in molded waves. Her makeup, perfect and bold.

Dani nodded. “Believe your eyes, Sam.
This
is the real me. The simpering, smiling fool you knew was just an act. However, you have simpering fool down to an art.” She stopped an arm’s length from Sam.

“Dani?”

Hatred glittered in her black-lined eyes.

A slow smile formed on the woman’s face. “Oh, I’ve been
here
for a while. Waiting. I’m very patient. Each morning I’ve come. I knew you’d eventually emerge from your pathetic self-imposed hermitage.” Dani circled Sam, running her hand along Sam’s shoulder.

Sam stepped aside. “What do you want? Gage isn’t here.” She shook her head and backed up. She looked down the beach in both directions, but no one was around.

Dani scowled. “Gage?” She laughed, a sharp maniacal sound. “It was so easy, what with your insecurities and all. A few well-placed magazines and his boxers. The briefs were a brilliant touch. Easy enough to figure out what he wears when he uses a laundry service. I just picked up a matching pair.” She winked. “Didn’t want him to notice anything missing. But I never wanted Gage. Why do you think I defended you over lunch with Ms. Lombardi?”

Sam shook her head.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” She chuckled softly and then pinned Sam with a look. “I didn’t want him to end anything. I wanted
you
to walk away from the best thing in your life. All. By. Yourself. Screwing with the script was just for fun.”

Sam dug her nails into the palms of her hands, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Never wanted Gage? You all but painted yourself all over him in Martin’s office.” She scanned the ground for a stick or a rock. Anything to arm herself. She forced a swallow past the fear in her throat.

The young woman smirked. “He resisted my affections like a good boy. But you didn’t see that, did you? I knew you wouldn’t.” She shook her head. “So predictable.”

Dani ran her hand down her hip. “I’d have enjoyed taking him for a ride, but he merely served as a means to an end.” Glancing out across the water, she appeared lost in thought for a moment.

Sam’s mind reeled. Gage had resisted, just as he’d said. All she’d seen was a woman wrapped around his willing form. His immediate look of panic and denial should have given her pause. But she’d been too prideful, blinded by the possibility, and what the situation meant. Repeat performance. Relief she’d gone to him swamped her. She’d have thrown away the best thing that had ever happened to her. She froze. “Oh my God.”

Prone to mistakes, failing due to pride
. Her mother’s voice was loud and clear.

Dani turned from the ocean and locked eyes with Sam. “You see, you’ve always gotten your way. So spoiled and weak,” she spat out. “Ethan was an artist, a master, so masterful.” She seemed to get lost in a memory as she caressed the side of her neck with fingertips tipped in blood red polish.

Sam’s mouth dropped, even as her heart sped in her chest. “Ethan? What does Ethan have to do—” An image of a beautiful blond bent over a trunk, exposed in a very intimate way, and Ethan standing behind her, his hand on her ass while he looked straight into the camera lens, flashed in her mind. “Oh my God.”