"Let go of my wrist."
"Come on, River," he said. "Don't be such a bitch. Viper was right. He said you were frigid."
"Don't you fucking say shit about me." I slapped him across the face with my free hand, and watched his expression change to one of rage.
He pushed me up against the wall, and the only thing I could hear was the blood pumping in my ears, my breath short.
"Fuck you, Brandon." I spit out the words. "Get the fuck away from me."
Brandon ran his hand over my breast, and I tried to push it away, but he pinned my arms above my head. "Maybe the problem is you need a real man to warm you up," he said, reaching between my legs.
I struggled, trying to move his hand away with my leg, but he shoved his fingers inside my panties.
"Definitely frigid," he said. "But I can make you wet."
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I screamed, but he covered my mouth with his, forcing his tongue inside mine.
"You like it a little rough too," he whispered. "That's what Viper said."
There was a knock at the door, and it flew open. "Roger said River was in here reading lines with -" she stopped, backing up. "Oh, sorry to interrupt!"
I screamed, this time at the top of my lungs, and Brandon looked stunned for a moment, letting go of me.
The crew member, someone I didn't know, stood there, staring, unmoving. But her presence was enough.
I kneed Brandon in the balls as hard as I could. Then I grabbed the nearest thing to me, this vase of flowers on a table, and threw it at his head.
He ducked. "You bitch," he yelled, doubled over as he lunged for me, still clutching his balls. "You better be fucking glad that didn't hit me."
The crew member's eyes were wide, but she grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door.
"He was the one who fucking assaulted me." My words came in gasps, my breath short. I couldn't get enough air.
I held her arm, feeling dizzy.
"I don't want to be here," I said, before I collapsed onto the pavement.
I was working on this piece in the garage, music turned up so loud I could barely think. That was one of the perks with this rental place - I had a garage I could work in, and I'd spent every waking moment since River had left turning this place into a workshop.
It gave me something to be obsessed with.
The problem was, even with this shit to work on, it was too quiet. Just me and my thoughts.
I was having a hell of a time. And not in a good way.
Me and my thoughts...alone...weren't a good combination lately.
At least I wasn't thinking about Afghanistan. River had fucking replaced those dreams, had set up shop in my head, occupying my brain, her image replaying the horrific ones.
I wasn't sure it was a good thing.
I was so distracted by thoughts of her that I didn't hear the car pull up, or notice when Silas opened the door.
It wasn't until he yelled that I finally jumped. "Shit, Silas!"
I turned down the music, and set down the acetylene torch I was working with, pulled off my welding goggles. "What the fuck, man?" I said. "You're like a fucking ghost or something. You ever heard of calling first?"
"Elias," he said. His face was pale. "It's mom."
"I just saw her yesterday," I said. "What's wrong?"
"I've been calling you non-stop for the past hour," he said. "You need to get in the car."
"What's going on?"
"Hurry up," he said, his voice clipped.
"Yeah, let me just go put something clean on," I said.
He shook his head. "Just get in the car, Elias."
"What the fuck is going on, Silas?"
"Mom's in the hospital," he said. "I went to see her, found her in the bedroom. She tried to kill herself."
"No," I said, following him to the car.
"Come on," he said. "She's in the hospital. I called Luke. They set a Red Cross message to Killian."
"She was fine yesterday." I couldn't wrap my head around it.
Silas' face looked grim.
"I'm not finishing the rest of the movie with that asshole." I heard myself yelling, the words coming out more like a screech. "I don't care about my fucking contract. I will press assault charges. There's no way the studio is going to make me finish the movie with him on set."
"No one wants to force the two of you to work together." The suit, one of the team the studio had sent down to pacify me, spoke. "Your feelings are justified. All of us want to put this behind us."
"But what?" I asked. "There's always a but." I didn't trust the studio, whatever bullshit they were about to try to sell me.
"The last thing the studio wants is negative publicity for the film," he said. "And I don't think you want that either, at this point, what with all the media attention you've had recently."