She’s screwing with my relationship with Evie asking me to do this, and I won’t let Ava destroy what I have with her. I’m not losing Evie because of her.
“You forget that I’m the next in line for this shitty fucking studio that you and Eric love so much! The day Eric dies, that studio is mine. Your career is mine. You’d do well to remember that, Ava.” My heart is pumping hard. My body shaking with rage.
She folds her arms, her eyes like lasers on me. “You will do this, Adam. Or there will be no studio left to inherit. Your father has made some bad business decisions over the years, and the studio is failing.”
I let out a dry laugh. “Like I give a fuck. Let it go to shit, for all I care.”
I turn back away and get one step farther from her when she says, “If you don’t do this for me, then I will cut you off, dry. You’ll have nothing. No money. Nothing.”
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.