“It was hard to talk to him and not feel some compassion. He’s messed up, Viv. Alex and I are worried about him. But it’s not just the partying and the drugs. It’s that bitch. She’s still manipulating him, and he’s struggling to shake her off. She’s hell-bent on sticking her claws into him. At this point, he’s convinced she’s only doing it to get at you. He doesn’t think she’s really into him or ever has been. It’s more the thrill of stealing him from you.”
“She can have him. I’m done.” I won’t let Audrey or Reeve guilt me into changing my mind. I know she’s just concerned about him, and in the past, I would’ve jumped to help him, but I’ve got to prioritize myself, or I’ll undo all my good work.
Technically, Reeve hasn’t done anything wrong this time. He’s single now, so if he wants to cavort half-naked on a sun lounger on a Mexican beach with that whore, he’s free to do so. It clearly doesn’t matter that it’s disrespectful to me to find out like that, on my freaking birthday, but whatever. I’m so done with this. My wrist works overtime as I vigorously whisk the eggs, hoping Audrey will just let this drop.
“He’s hired a top-notch investigator. A guy who specializes in this kind of investigation. He knows she leaked the photo to OK!, and he suspects she is in cahoots with Cassidy and Bianca. He’s going after them, Viv, and he’s already issued an ultimatum to the studio.”
“What ultimatum?” I hate that I ask the question before I’ve had time to engage my brain.
“He told them he won’t do promotion for the final movie with Saffron. That they have to be split up, in different countries, or he’s not promoting it at all.”
“I’m glad to see he’s finally growing a pair, but it’s too late for us.”
“He’s talking about coming to see you,” she adds. “He’s due to resume filming Sweet Retribution in a few days, so it won’t be anytime soon. But he has a week off, in the middle of June, before he starts filming that superhero movie over the summer. I think he’ll turn up then.”
Reeve has been continuously auditioning for other parts, and he’s in high demand off the back of his Rydeville Elite success, but I don’t know what other jobs he has booked. That Australian movie he made last summer is due to release in early August, and it’s just another milestone I won’t be around to share. Mad as I am, I’m still proud of him and glad his career is taking off in the way he’d always dreamed of.
“Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Send him a message that tells him loud and clear to leave me alone.”
After we’ve eaten, I ponder what to do about the Reeve situation. I know, for a fact, without checking, he’s been blowing up my US cell. Thank fuck, Moira hadn’t passed my Irish cell phone number on. I discovered Mom’s assistant was the one who gave Reeve my Irish address before she knew we’d split. Mom explained in time to stop her divulging my new cell, and I’ve made it very clear to Audrey, on several occasions, that she’s not to share my Irish number with Alex or Reeve.
But I know my ex inside and out. I know he’s been trying to reach me, and I need to respond because he cannot come here. I refuse to allow it. I won’t let him blow my cover and damage my new relationship. I’m happy, and Reeve showing up would ruin everything.
“Penny for them,” Dillon says, rolling over and propping up on his elbows. He’s lying on his stomach staring inquisitively at me.
“I need to deal with Reeve. I’m just trying to figure out how.”
He purses his lips. “How about you give him a taste of his own medicine?” he suggests with a gleeful glint in his eye.
“What are you thinking?”
“Send him a pic of us together in bed, and I’m sure he’ll get the message.”
He waits patiently while I consider it. I know it would get my point across, and I know it would hurt him. A part of me wants him to know what it feels like. But is this stooping to his level? Shouldn’t I rise above that?
“He deserves to know, and it’s not like you’d be blasting our photo all over social media for the world to see,” Dillon quietly says, as if he’s reading my mind. Briefly, I contemplate doing just that, but I discard the idea as fast. I went off social media for a reason, and I’m not falling down that rabbit hole again. I also don’t want to drag Dillon into my shit, even if the exposure might be good for Toxic Gods. Dillon has his own little following here already, and if I start sharing pics of us online, I risk the wrath of more groupies. I haven’t forgotten how viciously I was attacked by Reeveron fans, and I still, occasionally, have nightmares about the assault.
But the most important reason why I can’t go on social media is I don’t want to expose my location. Someone would figure it out, and my safe haven would be gone. No revenge is worth that sacrifice.
“You’re right,” I tell Dillon. “Sending it privately is more respectful than how I found out about him and that whore.” I switch on my US cell, and it pings successively with a ton of notifications. Dillon leans over my shoulder, tucking his arm around my waist. “Holy shit. You have hundreds of notifications from him.”
“I haven’t switched it on since I arrived here. Knowing him like I do, he’s been messaging me daily, and he was obviously frantic to get ahold of me once the pic leaked,” I add, scrolling through the long list of calls and messages from the last two days.
“He’s certainly persistent.” Dillon watches as I group delete everything. “I don’t understand it. Why is he trying so desperately to win you back if he’s fucking his costar?”
His words sting a little, but I try not to let it show because I understand the point he’s making. “I have no idea what game he’s playing, but I’m done playing it with him.”
We strip out of our clothes and lie down in the bed. Dillon has his arms wrapped around me in a way that shields my breasts but makes it clear we’re naked. “Bury your head in my neck,” I say. “I don’t want him to see your face.”
“Why not?”
“Reeve seems a bit unhinged right now, and I don’t want him coming after you.”
A pang of sadness slaps me in the face. I can’t believe it’s come to this. But it has, because I don’t know him at all anymore. Who knows what he’s capable of now? I agree with Dil. I don’t know why Reeve is trying so hard to get back with me if he’s still messing around with Saffron. He’s clearly still taking drugs, which makes me hurt for him. I’d never have thought Reeve would follow this path, and I hope he stops before he reaches the point of no return.
“I don’t give a fuck if he comes after me. I can handle him, but it’s your call.” Dillon turns away from the camera, pressing his lips to my neck and shielding his face. It’s actually way sexier like this. Resting my hand on Dillon’s back, I stare at the camera and take the pic.
We straighten up against the headboard as I get ready to compose my message. “Can you send that to me too,” Dillon asks, resting his chin on my shoulder. “That is one sexy ass photo.”
“We look good together,” I quietly say, forwarding the pic to my Irish cell. I want a copy of it too.
“We really do.” He kisses my lips sweetly, watching silently as I type out a message I hope will stop Reeve from getting on a plane.
Don’t you dare come here, Reeve. No one knows I’m in Ireland, and I want it to stay that way. I’m in a good place. Don’t take that from me. Please stop messaging me, and stop sending gifts. It’s over. I’ve moved on, just like you. Accept we are done, and you have no one to blame but yourself. Have a good life. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.
Before I can overthink it, I press send. Then I turn off my cell and shove it back in the drawer.
52
“Freedom!” I yell, fist-pumping the air and bouncing around in the passenger seat of my SUV. “Exams are over. The sun is shining—shocker right there—and I have all summer to hang out with my friends. I’m so happy I could scream!” I exclaim, beaming like a complete loon. But it’s the truth. I’m radiating happiness, and I don’t care who knows it. I’m deliberately not thinking about the fact next week is the first week in June and I only have ten weeks left in Ireland. Going there would totally burst my bubble, and I refuse to acknowledge that yet.