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The Filmmaker and the Musician (Raivh and Talin)

Raivh

Old dog
Joined
Jul 21, 2011
“I’ll park around the corner in Curtis’s driveway, you go ahead and go inside,” Bryant breathed, reluctantly pulling away from a heated kiss. A crooked grin turned up the corners of his mouth. He couldn’t help himself. Hand clamped over the back of her neck, he hauled her mouth to his again, claiming it with parted lips and a sweep of his tongue to taste her as deeply as he could. With his left hand, he reached around her and pulled the handle to open her door. His green eyes flashed with great mischief, and he watched her climb out before pulling silently away.

Minutes later, he was opening the door to her house, shutting it and stepping quietly inside. He searched the living room for her, and when he found her lounging in the corner of one of the couches, he smiled. “Hey, baby.” Whispering to her as he crossed over and sat down on the couch, he slipped his arms beneath her and hoisted her into his lap. “Have your dress picked out for prom?” His eyes were on hers, his lips moving over the flesh of her neck, nipping and suckling it gently to leave marks that would fade.

Dropping conversation for a minute, he pressed a teasing kiss to the corner of her mouth, and then blazed a trail to her ear. His body shuddered and a groan escaped into her ear. “Shit,” he ground out, teeth gritted in growing discomfort. He returned his mouth to hers, a hand sliding under her shirt, skimming over her stomach.
 
Karli sighed into the air. “Ok,” her heart was going a mile a minute, beating in her ears heavily like a drum. Smiling again as he pulled her back for another kiss her hands on his shoulders balling into his shirt. “See you shortly,” She said softly, her southern draw quite noticeable as her breath hitched. She pushed the door open and straightened her shoulder before crossing to the door. She didn’t look back her caramel colored eyes swept through the house as she entered and smiled. Her parents were out, a call from her aunt had pulled them out of town for the night and her siblings were away at various colleges and universities. The house was quiet, a rarity in the Peyton household. Quickly she fluffed her hair and pulled her jacket off hanging it on the appropriate peg.

Sitting on the sofa she stretched out and waited her eyes frozen on the door. Nervous energy welled up inside her, tonight was the night. She hadn’t told him of course, but would just let it happen. The door crept open and she smiled at him. Her giggle was soft as he pulled her into his lap. Nodding sent her dark blonde waves into motion. She closed her eyes and tilted her head; she trusted him and loved him. A soft sigh of a moan left her lips at his tender kisses. Small pale hands moved up his arms to his shoulders. Her eyes opened at his curse. She hardly used the language, but he was different.

Her lips pressed to his she trembled as his hand moved over her stomach. Soft hands pushed on his chest and broke their brief union. Brown eyes locked on his green. They had been together for a while and hadn’t taken that step. “Bry, you love me, right?” she bit her lower lip feeling foolish. He’d confirmed the sentiment to her so many times. A few not even ten minutes before this, she didn’t even wait for his answer. Her fingers were at the hem of her shirt and inching upward. Her modest white bra, still in place, she smiled softly tossing the clothing to the side before bringing her lips to his once more, “I love you too.”
 
A displeased grunt left his chest as she pushed him back, craving more of her. Staring into her eyes and hearing her question, he furrowed his brow and gave a jerky nod. “Yeah.” His words were breathy and spoken quickly. “I love you.” In a matter of seconds his focus shifted to her hands, watching them as she slowly pulled her shirt over her head, revealing bare flesh and a pesky bra that obscured the view he’d only been able to dream about. His nostrils flared out as he expelled a heavy breath, returning her kiss and shifting her around on his lap. He grunted in satisfaction when the bulge in his jeans was pressed between her legs.

Firm hands worked over her thighs, irritated with the denim that shielded her flesh from direct touch. Breaking from their kiss, he fumbled to jerk his shirt over his head and toss it somewhere on the living room carpet. His eyes dropped to the crease of her breasts. “You’re sure, baby?” His throat was tight as he asked, hoping she wouldn’t turn him away now. He wasn’t sure if he could stop. A sly grin slid over his lips when his fingers successfully unclasped her bra and the thing fell away. Flashing her a glance, he gently cupped her breasts with both hands, weighing them in his palms. They felt soft, smooth; he gave both a good squeeze, testing how much pressure he could give before pain shot over her features.

Moving a hand away, his mouth opened, and he looked up at her as his lips closed around one pert nipple. He drew it between his teeth and licked it as his other hand kneaded her breast. Free hand on the zipper of her jeans, he didn’t hear the key spin in the lock.

“What the hell is going on here?” The light came on, and Bryant scrambled away from Karli. He ducked just out of reach of her father and bolted for the door, slamming into the frame to get past her mother. Once he was out, he was running, having left his shirt behind.
 
Her heart sounded like a jackhammer in her ears when he drew her down onto him. She had felt him before, only briefly, never like this. She held his neck and played with the shaggy edge of hair at his collar. Soft groan of displeasure left her at their parting. However, she smiled as he revealed his chest to her. Brown eyes were on his when he asked. Karli knew he would, he was such a gentleman. “I’m sure Bry.” Every time they got close to this before she had told him no, it was too soon. This time was different. Biting her lip to keep from laughing as he attempted to unclasp her bra, she smiled when he was successful.

She wasn’t sure if he would think they were small, she felt unsure as the cloth fell away. He didn’t seem to not enjoy them. His hands were everywhere on them causing her to moan as he squeezed and fondled. Her hands were on his chest, simply there. Watching with utter fascination as he moved his mouth forward. Mouth falling open with how amazing he felt, “B-Bry…” her voice cracked as she whispered his name. Her eyes closed against the sensations he was causing. She felt his fingers on her jeans front and slowly slid her hands down his chest and over his stomach, muscles rippling with the actions.

Searing light and shouted words caught the duo off guard. Karli screamed and covered her breasts as Bryant all but tossed her from his lap in his haste. Karli watched in disbelief as her boyfriend ran. To make matters worse she watched her mother fall to her rump with a shout. Even more horrifying was watching her father, a football player in his day, sprint across their lawn after Bryant. Profanities and threats bouncing off the neighbors’ homes as lights flickered on all around. Grasping the first piece of clothing she shoved it on. Bryant’s shirt inside out, and backwards with the tag rubbing her chin she quickly grasped her discarded clothing and headed upstairs. These five words stopped her dead in her tracks, Not so fast young lady.

Karli spun and sat on the sofa, folding her hands in her lap to endure the lecture about the inappropriateness of her behavior and how that boy was the cause of it all. She shook her head, tears fell from her caramel colored eyes, “You don’t understand… I love him and he loves me.” She stood and ran from the room, eventually crying herself to sleep. Thankfully she’d already bought their prom tickets so she was still permitted to go.
 
The only time Bryant Danes had ever known fear, panic, was in the presence of his girlfriend’s father; the man was insane and irate. Curse words and threats aside, Bryant’s goal was to not get captured, so he skittered over the grass and concrete like a squirrel escaping a diesel. Getting squashed was the last goal on his agenda; the first had just gone up in smoke. He shoved his hand in his pocket as he rounded the corner, digging around for his keys. A bit out of breath and lungs hurting from the strain of trying to suck in air while he escaped, he slowed to a walk, and when he reached his car, opened the door. It seemed the entire neighborhood was now awake, thanks to Mr. Peyton. Not a thought in Bryant’s mind went to how much torment Karli was likely going through. He only wondered if she’d covered up before her parents got a really good look at the fine points he’d worried her nipples into. A smile quirked one corner of his lips, and he glanced back toward her house.

“Hey, Bryant!” The shout rang out over the pounding music, and Bryant turned his head in the direction of the girl trying to get his attention. She was slender, a cheerleader like Karli, sort of cute, and the queen of whores. Supposedly she’d been knocked up twice, and had abortions both times. A drunken smile slipped over his features, and he starred through the blur of alcohol as Joslyn approached him. She’d grabbed him a few times in the hall, kissed him; Karli never seemed to notice, or at least never said anything.

Wrapping her arms around his waist, Joslyn pushed her nose into his chest and sucked in a deep breath, her breasts inflating against his chest. Fire burned through Bryant’s veins, and the blood rushed straight to the organ between his legs. “Will you be my date tonight?” Joslyn slurred, staring up at Bryant with large, pleading eyes, her lower lips pushed out. “My boyfriend dumped me a week before. I had my dress picked out and everything.” Stepping back, Bryant tripped over someone’s foot and stumbled backward, sending his beer flying into the air. It rained down over them as they landed on the floor with a solid thud, laughing like two loons.

“No, I can’t,” Bryant muttered, shaking his head with a goofy smile plastered over his face. “Karli’s—Karli’s—she’s waiting for me. I got to go pick her up.” The gift he’d bought for her birthday, along with the corsage he’d purchased for her for prom, was in the backseat of his car.

Joslyn shook her head, shoving her hair out of the way of her face. She looked flustered, upset, and she had tears in her eyes even as she undid the button and zipper on the front of his jeans. “No, that’s not fair. You spend time with her all the time. Spend some time with me, too.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Someone hollered, rushing toward them just as Joslyn revealed the bulge beneath a thin layer of gray fabric. “Take this upstairs, and here.” The guy tossed a condom onto Bryant’s chest, which slid off the moment he was helped to his feet. Glancing around with furrowed eyebrows, Bryant called out Karli’s name, as if she were at the party. Led upstairs, he was still confused when Joslyn sat him down on a bed.

“Karli doesn’t have to know. She won’t care.” Joslyn smiled, pulling her shirt over her head, and Bryant lost any sense of duty he’d had in his intoxicated stupor.
 
Karli stood in front of the mirror, the strapless lace gown was made to compliment the grey suit that Bryant was supposed to wear. Pulling back her dark blonde locks, her mother secured them into a French twist. She knew her parents weren’t pleased with her decision of the previous night but she was bound and determined to not have them ruin this night as well. Karli had never liked wearing too much makeup and tonight was no exception. She tied the black ribbon into a bow in the front and let the ends hang down, she stepped back and smiled Bryant would be pleased with the amount of skin that it allowed for him to touch.

Slipping into the black heels she began the trek down the stairs. Her heels clicked on the hardwood floor alerting her parents to her impending arrival. “Is he here yet?”

Her mother, Diana, stepped forward and cooed. She held a hand up to her face as she shook her head no; the tears fell before she pulled out a camera to take a few shots. “Mom stop, it’s just the prom. It’s not like I’m getting married.” Though if she had her way he’d be proposing during college, they’d have a small wedding before their last year and a baby on the way before graduation.

Her father growled, “Well don’t expect a blessing!”

“Daddy…” She frowned as she moved down the stairs to wait with them in the living room, Her father sat in his recliner and turned on the game. Karli stepped into the kitchen for a glass of cool water.

“He’ll get over it,” her mother stated following her. “He doesn’t remember what we were like at your age.” Her mother’s laugh changed a bit and then she sighed. Karli watched as she leaned against the fridge, probably thinking about all the gross things … she stopped thinking. It was like that time when she was six and her eldest sister picked her up from school, she’d been sick and her parents never answered. Maura told her to go straight to bed but the noises she heard sounded bad. Even now she cringed as she remembered opening the door.

“MOMMA stop it!” Karli said loudly, pulling both herself and her mother from their respective memories. Karli filled a glass from the tap and sipped. The frosted pink lipstick formed a half circle on the rim. She glanced at the clock on the wall nervously. The things they started last night would be finished tonight. She worried it would be in the back of the limo she had rented, but still, it was happening. Kissing her mother’s cheek she went back upstairs and reapplied her lipstick and waited. And waited. And waited and waited and waited some more. Prom started at 7, it was now 9 pm. She stared at the clock, then out the window and repeated it several times. He was coming, he had to come. He was on his way, he HAD to be on his way. He wouldn’t DO this to her.

Stomping down the stairs thirty minutes later, mascara running down her cheeks she confronted them. “You did this… you killed him last night, or scared him off SO bad he’s refused to show his face. THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT…” she began sobbing. Flopping down on the cream colored sofa she buried her head into the plush cushion. Her mother stared at her father in disbelief that Bryant would have done this. Her father only shrugged and went back to the game. The court was announced and all her friends danced like it was nothing out of the ordinary for her not to be there. Karli went to bed at midnight and skipped church the next day.
 
When he woke next to Joslyn, Bryant was more than aware that things had gotten out of hand, hellishly so. He was a damned, dead man, and Karli, sweet as she was to him, was going to be his killer if she ever found out. Hell, she was probably already beyond furious he hadn’t shown up for prom. Birthday gift in hand, having missed that as well, and corsage in the other, he took long, loping strides toward the door. Or maybe her father would save him the torment and shoot him; his death would probably be faster that way. Ringing the bell and rapping on the door three times, Bryant took a step back before the door opened. It was her mother, and though she didn’t look very happy, she didn’t look as angry as he would have thought she would have been.

“Hello, Mrs. Peyton,” Bryant said, trying to sound as polite as he could. “Is Karli home?” Her mother pointed toward the stairs that led up to her daughter’s room, but when he took a step forward, she stopped him.

“Oh no you don’t, Mr. Danes,” she said quickly, and then turned her head to holler for her daughter. “Karli! Someone’s at the door!” Bryant shifted nervously, wondering if the necklace he bought her would be enough for her to forgive him, or at least leave him with a lesser punishment.
 
Karli woke eyes heavy and red. She’d fallen back to sleep when her mother tapped on the door before leaving for church. Typically, skipping was a no-no , today was understandable. she still wore his shirt and had just her panties beneath. Smoothing her hair down at her mother’s yelling she groaned. slipping on a pair of shorts she swung the door open and headed down the stairs, Stopping in the middle her caramel eyes narrowed and glared at him. Refusing to go any farther she heard her mother’s chuckle as she left.

“How dare you show up here now? There is nothing you can say, NOTHING. To make what you did okay. Happy birthday Karli,” She lifted her hands up and made quotes in the air, “I love you, NO, no no-no NO NO HELL NO!” she said moving down a step for each no.

“Karlisle Jane Peyton!” her father warned from the other room. Knowing him he was laughing behind his paper.

Snatching the silver papered box she tossed the pink ribbon and slid her finger underneath serving to slice into her finger, “OW.” She shook it and tossed the paper at him. Opening the long box she saw a “K” hanging on a chain with a diamond on the end sweep. he remembered, it was something she’d seen in a catalog and dog eared the page for him, but never saw him look. Snapping it shut she sat it on the step and glared at him. “Thanks, now get out, I don’t want to hear it!”
 
Bryant knew that look all too well—disappointment, anger, sorrow and confusion. He swallowed hard, and swallowed again when she began shouting at him. His eyes lifted to her as she descended the stairs, and he brought his gift out front, holding it for her to take. She did, rather hastily, and he fumbled to catch the wrapping paper when she tossed it back at him. Once he had a hold of it, he stuffed it into his pocket. His phone vibrated and then sounded off, but he ignored it, watching as she set the case and necklace on the step. She was very, very irritated with him. Pushing out a sigh, he furrowed his brow and forced a shit-eating grin onto his face.

“Karli,” he murmured, stepping into the house and shutting the door behind him. His phone went off again. “I’m sorry, I am. It wasn’t on purpose, baby.” In the other room, he could hear her parent’s scoff, and her father growl his disagreement. He was tense, recollections of waking to Joslyn’s face still in his mind, still fresh. Inside, he was cursing himself; he couldn’t remember any of it, only getting drunk at that pre-prom party.

“Did you like the necklace?” Again, his ringer went off, and he pulled his phone of his pocket. His eyes locked on the screen as another one of the pictures popped up, spamming his cell. Licking his lips, he stuffed it into his back pocket as it continued to go off. “Do you want me to come back later, then, after you’ve cooled off?”
 
She’d heard the chime of his phone, even on a Sunday he couldn’t leave it at home and had to bring it. Crinkling her nose as the smell of him hit her, “UGH, not on purpose.. You reek. Were you …” she lowered her voice and hissed at him, “Drinking?” She didn’t need to hear him say it she knew he could smell it on him. “Yes it’s the one I wanted… oh Bry you shouldn’t have.” her voice was pure sarcasm. “What you should have done was been here. I was dressed and ready to go.”

She looked away, annoyed; his phone kept going off, “Where were you, while I was here waiting for you. LIKE A FOOL!” She saw the flicker of nerves cross his face as he looked at his phone. She crossed her arms over his shirt, she stared at the fish tank against the wall, wanting to drown his head in it until her made it all up to her. “I missed my prom because of you!” her voice was soft, almost sighing the words out. Her head popped up to his at his words, “If you walk out that door don’t EVER come back, Bry.”

The tweet of his phone went off again. She growled and snatched it out of his back pocket. She looked down to the “Dude?” on the screen and typed in, “I’m with Karli ttyl.” After hitting send she held it against her stomach. It went off again. She glanced at the screen, a picture dominated the screen. It was of a guy passed out on a naked girl. “What kinds of friends do you…. Oh.. MY.. GOD!!!” She couldn’t see, her tears came down in torrents, streaking her face. Her small pale nose going red. She smacked him hard across the cheek, “You fucking Asshole!” She spat out the venom laced words.

Her parents approached, unsure of what had happened exactly. “I love you…” she shoved him toward the door, her smaller frame coiling and shoving as she dropped the phone to the hard wood floor out of reach. “I was going to give you everything. “ She whimpered. “EVERY THING!” She screamed the words in his face. “Get the Hell out of my house! I never want to see your sorry ass again.” she spun the knob and shoved him out the door; rushing back in she picked up the phone and tossed it far out into the yard. “I HOPE SHE WAS WORTH IT!”

Slamming the door she turned and ran upstairs, the slam of her door could be felt all through the house.
 
This was a terrible predicament if he’d ever known one, and Bryant Danes knew more about being between a rock and a hard place than most. What he really wanted to do was leave, or at least escape and break his phone so that the messages that kept popping up wouldn’t be read. It was bad enough his naked ass was on the screen, what made matters worse was the nude young woman lying under him. He couldn’t remember having sex with Joslyn, and he couldn’t remember if they’d used a condom. The sudden twist of his gut told him it was unlikely. He tensed when she snagged his phone from its place of concealment. Maybe he needed to get a padlocking pocket.

“Karli…” he began slowly, cautiously. Holding his breath, he released it when she lowered it to her stomach, feeling as though he’d somehow evaded the inevitable. But no. Every muscle in his body wound tight again the moment his cell ringer sounded again. He blanched at her exclaimed proclamation, aware that it wasn’t a prayer; it was a curse on him. “Karli, I didn—” Cut off by a sharp slap to the face, he felt his jaw shift, and knew there would be a bruise there the following day, something he undoubtedly deserved.

“Karli, stop! Karli, wait!” No matter how loud he shouted, projecting his voice throughout the house, she didn’t listen, just continued pushing him toward the closed door. The pain in her voice was enough to make him want to hit himself, or let her father strike him. Still, he couldn’t help the frustration that began to well up in him. She wasn’t willing to listen to anything he had to say. Stumbling backwards, out the door, he ducked when his phone came flying out after him and shattered on the cement drive. It wasn’t his fault he’d been lured into the bed of a temptress; he was drunk and horny, she was there.

“I guess you don’t want me coming back?” he bellowed up toward her window, aware that she would hear him. “I guess she was worth it! Because you sure as hell wouldn’t have been!” It was a lie; he wanted her most of all. Enraged and unsure where to direct his wrath, he decided to aim for the passenger door of his car, and kicked it hard, leaving a dent. “Fuck!”

……………

“You divorced your wife!” Brittany exclaimed. This was news to her. Things between Bryant and Joslyn had seemed tense when she’d met him, but Bryant was a good guy. He was a very good guy, a handsome, sweet man with a bit of a naughty streak, but a huge heart. She didn’t understand why he would give up his marriage. Then again, maybe she did. She recalled the story Bryant had shared with her about when his nasty break up with his girlfriend back in high school, about how Joslyn had wound up pregnant after that night. And Bryant, feeling obligated, had married Joslyn.

“Yep, signed all the paperwork. I have no ties to that woman, and that’s how I’d like it to stay,” he muttered, adjusting the focus on one of his cameras. There had to be a scratch on the lens. It was only fuzzy in one part. “Damn it. Brittany, I need you to order another lens for this one. It’s shot to shit as it is right now. I can’t film anything with that.” Returning the camera to its bag, he zipped it up and placed it on the counter Brittany was sitting behind. The young woman was stunning, an actress hoping to make it to Broadway. Her red hair was befitting and framed her slender face, and her green eyes were a brighter shade than Bryant’s own. She was quite literally flawless, though she swore she had a few scars and a tattoo he would never see.

“Have you checked your calendar lately? You have an appointment tomorrow, last name Peyton,” Brittany commented, scribbling down a note to remind herself to have the part ordered so it would be in by late next week. “It’s at 5:00, so don’t forget and wander out of here just because your stomach is growling, Bryant.”

Bryant smirked. “Don’t worry, I won’t. I’d rather have the money than a burger in my stomach. I’ll see you tomorrow, Brit. Lock up before you leave!”

“Mmhm!”


……….

“Shit!” He was running late. This time, it wasn’t his fault. Brittany wasn’t going to chew his ass out for this one. It was all on Nick. She could beat him later. Arm in a sling, swollen, purple, and broken, his cell phone in the toilet back at home; every bit of it was because of Nick. Shoving through the doors into his studio, Bryant rushed past Brittany and a group of people to get his gear together. It was 5:45. His stomach was eating him alive, and his mind was not on the task at hand, but scattered everywhere else he’d been that day. Thumping his busted arm against a door frame, Bryant let out a sound that could only be described as a yelp. The doctor couldn’t put a cast on it until the swelling went down. Well, the swelling sure as hell wasn’t going to go down any time soon, not if he kept running into things.

“Bryant!” Brittany hissed, her eyebrows furrowed and her green eyes locked on the sling barely keeping his arm immobilized.

“Send them in!” he shot over his shoulder, working with one hand to open various bags, set up a tripod and camera. “Brittany! I need help with lights!” One hand wasn’t going to cut it. A sheen of sweat shimmered on his forehead as he scrambled around in the back of the studio. When he looked up, he realized that the lighting was already set up. “Oh.”
 
Karli stood watching him at the corner of her window, half tempted to run back out to him and make him understand that he was hers and what he’d done… She bit back a sob. Her hand clenched the curtain, and jerked it from the wall in anger. She screamed and stomped like a five year old throwing a tantrum before she felt her mother’s arms around her holding her and trying to calm her. “I love him….” she whimpered against her mother’s shoulder.

“I know sweetheart, I know…” Diane smoothed her hand over her daughters dark blond locks, petting her to calm her down.

Roger stepped into her room, “If that sorry son of a …. EVER steps foot in MY house again I swear Karli…” He shook his head in fury, the big man was livid.

Karli felt his arms shaking as he wrapped her in a hug. “I think I want to get my hair cut…” She didn’t go to school for the next week, and when she did it was utter failure. Thankfully her friends held her together, they booted Joslyn from the squad. The captain had enough on the whoring around, Karli knew she’d get blamed, but couldn’t have cared less. She avoided Joslyn and Bryant like the plagues they were, classes she once loved now were hell. She poured herself into the spring production and stole the show onstage. Belting out chords like a pro, spurring her onward and allowing her to open her eyes to the future.

Graduation came Karli had cut her hair up past her chin and dyed it bleach blonde, she was dating again and ... things sucked. She had heard the rumors and it killed her. Joslyn was pregnant and claimed, of course, that Bryant was the father. He did the right thing, which made her feel even worse, he’d married her. The man she’d sworn to herself, that she would marry, was already married and with a kid on the way. Keeping her head high she wanted to vomit when they called Joslyn Danes across the stage, at least she didn’t have to stand near either of them. At last freedom came and it scared her.

--

“Steph?” her soft southern voice called, the brunette held up a finger to which caramel eyes rolled. Karli flipped out of the yoga position she was in causing long blonde locks to tumble every which way as she rolled to her back laughing. Having lived in Nashville since graduation and had gone back to her roots. She had fans all over the world because of her songs on the internet and some she’d written and handed out to friends. Now though, it was her turn. Her record deal came through, and her manager, Stephanie, was setting up the final details of her video shoot now.

Grabbing her guitar she went back to that place when she was 18, the emotion that fueled her debut song. Strumming her fingers over the strings she sang.

“Yeah she is warming up now. We will be there early, he’s good and hard to get.”

--

“Where the hell is he?” Karli watched as Stephanie yelled at the red head.

Karli rolled her eyes as the makeup and hair people went scrambling as soon as they were finished. “Steph, I’m sure Mr. Bryant will be here, calm down.” They were in the little green room off the side of the man’s studio. The room was as big as her apartment back home. She shimmied into the short white jean shorts sliding them up her long tan legs. the matching jacket had way more fabric but she wasn’t showing off much. the red tee shirt wasn’t low cut, it wasn’t her.

“He’s ready for you.” the call came with a knock.

Karli clapped her hands together, “Oh goody…” she was excited to finally get this song out there, seven long years. Bryant Danes, eat your heart out. She flipped her hair over her shoulders as she padded across the black laminate floors; her slim fingers wrapped around the neck of her guitar as she pulled the strap over her shoulder. Karli P. Her name was burned on the wood face of her guitar. “I’m ready Mr. Bryant,” the lights flipped on blinding her. She stood in the spotlight holding her hand up, trying to see him. When she’d come in she saw a tall man wearing a sling. Poor guy, “Mr. Bryant, I can’t see your cue so I’m just gonna sing.” She strummed the strings and began:

Now, don’t just walk away
Pretending everything’s ok
And you don’t care about me
And I know there’s just no use
When all your lies become your truths and I don’t care
yeah, yeah, yeah

Could you look me in the eye
And tell me that you’re happy now
ohhh, ohhh
Would you tell it to my face or have I been erased,
Are you happy now?
Are you happy now?

{{CREDIT for lyric goes to Michelle Branch (Are You Happy Now?) thanks!}}
 
Hearing footsteps enter the room, Bryant turned his head in the direction of the sound. A woman, a stunning blonde, stepped under the lights, her brown eyes brilliant and shining. She looked good. And she looked familiar. Reality crashed into Bryant, and the impact left him standing there like a bumbling idiot. Obviously she couldn’t see him, and obviously she hadn’t been clued in on the fact that his last name wasn’t Bryant; it was Danes. And that young woman was Karli Peyton. His stomach knotted as he mouthed her name, recalling the last day they’d actually spoken. Her hair was shorter then, and she’d been incredibly bitter, yelling at him and throwing his phone out the door, nearly hitting him with it. Throat swelling with tension, he swallowed and continued his work. It had been six years since they’d graduated, and he’d changed. She probably had as well, had moved on like he had—sort of. Even now, gawking at her form as she stood directly in front of him, he could see that she was still as beautiful as ever, still his Karli.

Out of impulse, he almost replied “Alright, baby,” but refrained, clearing his throat to instead say, “Alright, Miss Peyton, you do what you do.” He could work on the fly, get the opening shot out of the way first, do angles and other shots later, and make some edits. Figure out how long it would take to change his name from Bryant Danes to something else, something she wouldn’t recognize. Only a few stanzas of her song were about him, right? Taking a deep breath, he focused on his work instead of on her song—or just her. She’d grown her hair back out to a length he preferred, a length where he could take a handful of her golden locks and just breathe her in as deeply as he possibly could.

“Sorry!” One of the key lights went black. Bryant cursed, shutting his camera off and moving quickly to where Brittany was arguing pointlessly with the woman that had just crashed into the stand, knocking the tungsten light to the ground.
 
You took all there was to take,
And left me with an empty plate
And you don’t care about it, yeah.
And I’m…


-CRASH-
“Sorry”

Karli semi-screamed as the light fell, glass breaking and gliding over the smooth surface of the floor. Releasing the guitar, strap holding it secure, she gripped a hand to her breast. An attempt to slow her rapidly beating heart, she was no longer blind. “Is everyone alright?” Her twang was pronounced. she looked behind her to the band, everyone appeared to be fine. She watched the back of the photographer as he moved to where the stand had been. Chewing her lip she slid the guitar off slowly and set it down on the stage. Looking down at her bare toes she knew she’d really be of no help, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

Moving softly forward, Steph looked up at her with confusion. “If you got a broom I can sweep up the glass…I mean, ya got a broken arm.” She laughed as she knelt watching him attempt to pick up the pieces. He turned; it was a slow motion kind of thing, almost as if he didn’t want to face her. Her smile faltered as her mouth fell open. Recognition hitting her hard and it didn’t just hit her. It ran her over, backed up and smashed her again before punching the gas and squealing its tires over her limp and lifeless body.

“Bryant Danes…” her brown eyes went wide, momentarily before she regained her composure. “On second thought, you probably have someone else ready to handle that for you. Not even worth it for me to even try.” Her usual happy demeanor was gone. “I’ll be in the green room until this problem is resolved.” She hopped off the stage and into the room, didn’t even feel the piece of glass enter her heel. She slammed the door and leaned against it placing both feet on the ground. “OW…” she sat in a chair and yanked the offending piece of glass from her foot. Of all the people, it had to be him.
 
There was no telling what would happen now that Karli wasn’t blind, but Bryant’s concern wasn’t if her feelings were still hurt, not at the moment anyway. Shaking his head at Stephanie’s offer to help, Bryant turned and motioned for Brittany to go get the broom. The red-headed woman vanished through a door, and when he again turned his head to look back down at the shards of glass, his green eyes caught Karli’s for a split second. He watched as her expression fell, realization hitting, and as her lips parted and she said his name. With a great deal of force, he smiled, knowing that this was going to be an awkward partnership. His jaw clenched, knowing she emphasized certain words to nail him in the head; she was still pissed, and none of it had been his fault.

“Here’s the broom,” Brittany said, returning to the room. Bryant rose to his feet and pointed down at the glass. “You want me to clean it up.” Giving her no more response than a grunt and a nod of his head, he tailed Karli into the other room, only to have a door slam in his face. He heard her back hit the wooden surface on the other side, so he waited for her to move with his hand hovering over the knob. This was going to be entertaining.

Opening the door and entering the moment the bloody piece of glass parted way with the bottom of Karli’s foot. “Ouch!” he exclaimed, sucking in a breath as he wandered over to his desk. Searching the drawers, he found a bottle of ointment and a box of bandages Brittany had put in the bottom of it. He then dragged a chair across the floor and sat down in front of her, deliberately looking her in the eye. Immediately, and without hesitance, he reached for her foot and pulled it into his lap. Donning a smile and acting as if he didn’t recognize who she was, he squirted some of the clear goop onto his index finger.

“I guess all artists have to suffer for their work.” Slathering the gel over the small lesion, not bothering to be gentle about it, he arched an eyebrow. “Am I right?” His rough fingers pressed the bandage to the bottom of her foot, which he placed on the floor when he finished. Rising to his feet, he stretched out his arm, offering his hand to hers in a handshake. “I should tell you my last name is Danes, not Bryant. So it’s Mr. Danes.” He chuckled, green eyes flashing with deviance. “You have a very pretty voice, Miss Peyton.” There were many other aspects Bryant considered pretty about Karli. His eyes scanned over her. Or sexy.

Returning his eyes to hers, he smiled again. “Are you going to be alright to finish the shoot?”
 
Karli looked up at him, the annoyance at his presence more than obvious. Turning she touched up her makeup waiting for him to leave so she could sulk and pretend it was over her foot. The drag of the chair caused her to swivel back toward him. her brown eyes swept over him now in the light. Even after everything that had happened she still could feel it. Attraction, desire, want, and hatred; each pulled to her body in a different way. She met his eyes and smiled, she could pretend she had forgotten who he was and perhaps he didn’t hear her in the studio area.

“Yeah, I think I can turn this pain into a song, perhaps it’ll be a number one.” She teased with a small giggle. “Look at you being all chivalrous, bandaging up the damsel in distress… Mr. Danes.” Her southern drawl lilted his name in a unfamiliar way. She took his hand, hers cool and soft compared to his, warm and calloused. “I should be fine; it’s just a foot… I can always cut it off if I have to. Besides, I'm a professional." She smiled and turned to look in the mirror once more before meeting his gaze. "Oh and I should tell you… It’s only Miss Peyton for another month or two. You mustn't do any research on your clients.” She laughed lightly as she stepped forward toward the door, turning her back to him as a small devious smile crossed her lips.

Turning back to him she smiled, “He’s the one that recommended you to me, Chad Oaken. Said you were the best, I guess we’ll see.” Lifting her voice in a little laugh she watched as Steph tried to take over and sweep up the mess she’d created, but the redhead did not relent. “We ready to do this ya’ll.” Outside was the bubbly blonde bombshell everyone knew and loved. Inwardly she was dying, the love of her life was there and she could only pretend not to know him, it kept the pain away, slightly. The thing with Chad was a publicity stunt to help out his career since she was slowly becoming known as America’s sweetheart. Hopping up on stage she took her guitar and was soon blinded again, instead of imagining he was out there, this time, she truly sang to him.
 
Chivalrous he was not, but he would let her go on believing that he was. Or at least pretending to think that he was. The way she said his name grated on his nerves, and he gritted his teeth against the atrocious sound that was melodic and beautiful at the same time. “Alright, just thought I should check,” he muttered, turning away from her to head back into the other room. He stopped, arching his eyebrows when she spoke again, and glanced back over his shoulder. Those doe brown eyes of hers were going to kill him. Bang! Right through the heart. Meanwhile, the bullet that he hadn’t seen coming struck him in the ass, causing him to shout inwardly. No way in hell was she not dating someone, let alone not engaged. He should have known better.

“Congratulations,” he said rather flatly. His green eyes tracked her to the door, and when she flashed him that angelic, blinding smile of hers, his mind locked out any and all rational thought. That wasn’t the smile of an angel; that was the smile of a temptress. And whether she intended to or not, she’d baited the hook and he took to it, a catfish to blood. He was the best. He’d show her. Following her out of the room, the name Chad Oaken a foul taste in his mouth and the darker part of what would be his newest nightmare, he made sure that the correct light had been exchanged for the busted one.

All throughout the shoot he was forced to listen to her voice, positive the lyrics were directed at him. His shoulders grew heavier, and by the end of the session, he was ready to go home, take the drugs for his arm, shower, and go to bed. Flipping off the last light in the studio, he stepped out into the cold air outside carrying some of his equipment and his computer. He spotted Karli and her manager waiting for their ride.

“Miss Peyton,” Bryant called. His expression was nonchalant. He wasn’t in any sort of mood to smile at her, but he managed to turn up the corners of his lips. “Your manager can drop by in a few days to check up on the edits. It was nice meeting you.” Nodding in her direction, he walked a short way down the sidewalk before he stopped and stepped up to the curb. Taxi cabs passed in front of him, and he lifted hand, waving one over and climbing in.
 
Trying to keep her mind free of him she sang, her voice was clear and the lyrics filled with the proper emotions. They went back through it once again for close ups; she gave him her best broken and angry faces and, even though she was emotionally spent, her most brilliant of smiles and giggles. Karli ended the filmed piece by blowing a kiss at the screen, her signature move. She had heard her phone going off in the midst of the chaos and watched as Steph stepped out with it. Her schedule was packed; a photo shoot that night and dinner plans with Chad, the call couldn’t have possibly been for something more. Silently she watched Bryant for a moment when he called for a wrap, how she would have loved just to blow off her schedule and play catch up, but the pain was still too real and pretending she didn’t have a clue who he was made it easier. After all, he was married and had a kid. By now it was probably more than one and she wasn’t sure why, but the thought really bugged her.

It would be a hectic and exhausting few days, with various talk shows and a mini concert in the books for her. A new duet with Chad was supposed to drop at one of these concerts, and she wasn’t confident they could display the proper emotion for the song. She was just mentioning it to Steph when she heard the studio door open behind her. “Same to you… Mr. Danes if I like your work, I will be back, just warnin’ ya!” She smiled brilliantly. Knowing Chad adored the man’s work, Bryant would probably be the one filming their duet in the next month or so. Brown gaze moved from Bry to the town car that pulled up. Her smile dropped a touch at the tall blonde male that opened the door from the inside of it, “What are you doing here?” It wasn’t a proper greeting for her fiancé and it wasn’t exactly wrong either.

“What’s with you Karlisle?” A deep voice asked as a large hand gripped her slim shoulder.

Her mind had been in a fog since seeing Bryant, all the emotions coming back. “Nothing Chad,” She said shaking her head, she lied. She was stressed, the studio time had been wasted and the song wasn’t good. The vocals were there, but the passion wasn’t. Sitting she slid on her thick brown boots, smoothing the leather up her calves. “I need to go check my video with that Bryant Danes guy,” she mumbled putting on her jacket. Like a robot she rose and kissed his cheek before leaving.

The ring on her finger caught her eye as she jerked open the sleek black door to his building and sashayed inside, her blonde tresses bouncing. She pulled the fur-lined jacket off as her smile graced the redheaded assistant. “Hello again, I’m here to see Mr. Danes. He said I could come by and check on the edits.” As the woman rose Karli shook her head, “I know the way, thanks.” Crossing the room, she tapped on the front of the open door. “Knock knock.” Pearly white teeth went on display as she smiled at him. After setting her jacket down she ran her palms over her jeans clad thighs.The baby pink sweater she wore was soft and accented her tan to perfection. The low “V” in front helped to show off her amazing cleavage, but not too much. Her brown eyes flitted around his office and over him. It was like a drink of cool water to her thirsty soul. “Hi, did I come at a bad time?”
 
Morning was hell, worse than the evening before when he’d come back to the apartment to find Nick’s naked ass and Hailey, Nick’s girlfriend, below him. It was a perturbing sight, and one that rattled his mind for a good hour after it happened. Sitting in front of a computer screen at his desk, Bryant was still working on the edits from Karli’s shoot—sort of. He’d spent a lot of time just looking at her image put together by thousands of tiny pixels. When the knock at the door came, he was so engrossed in what he was doing that he startled when she spoke. Whipping around, his green eyes flitted erratically about her face, eyebrows pulled together in a V. His heart started to beat a little faster looking at her looking at him.

He cleared his throat at her question and shook his head. “No, no it’s not a bad time. I just wasn’t expecting you.” With his attention pulled away from his work, he felt his empty stomach gnawing at him. His gaze followed the giant arrow her collar created straight to the swell of her bust, and his expression blanched briefly, recalling the last time he’d seen her breasts.

“Have you had lunch yet?” he asked suddenly, rising from his chair before his sanity and logical thoughts ran away and were replaced with fantasies of taking her into the backroom where he had a camera set up, ready for a shoot. Planting his palms on the edge of the desk, the wheeled chair glided back, and he stopped it by planting his foot on the ground. He avoided her brown eyes as he stood up and straightened his spine, taking a step toward her. Every day since their fiery dispute he’d tried to rid his mind of thoughts about Karli—her smell, the taste of her skin, her lips, how it felt to hold her hand, the anger he felt when she came to him in tears and they embraced.

Walking toward the door while his memories ran wild, he didn’t realize how close he was to the door until his broken arm, now in a white plaster cast, crashed into the wooden frame. “Damn it!” he cursed, spinning and leaning his back against the wood. He took a few deep breaths as the pain filtered away from sharp and piercing to dull and throbbing. Nostrils flared, he turned his head to look at her. “I haven’t finished the edits for your video yet, Miss Peyton.” His green eyes held a hint of irritation intermingled with the shock of sudden pain, but they were soft as he stared over at her. “I know of a bistro not far from here, so if you want to put your jacket back on and take a walk with me, it’s my treat.”
 
Karli stood there, heart in her throat and hands against her thighs. Barely breathing, she watched him as his eyes flitted over her and through. Feeling invisible, she chewed her lip. Her brows furrowed, who was he expecting, if not her? His question forced her to release her lip to answer him. “No, I came right over from the studio,” She pointed to herself and laughed, “Workaholic!” The thought of lunch with him took her back to school and the many lunches they had spent together, never had it included eating. It caused her cheeks to tint slightly as she stood there unsure of what to do. Casually she glanced around his office, it was lacking pictures. None of kids and no photos of the hag, for that she was glad.

Lying in her hotel bed she had thought of him, the way it felt in his arms on her couch that night and then how it felt when he ripped her heart out and effectively stomped on it. She’d come to the conclusion that she was still in love with him. Even though she felt this way about him, she was not willing to go back down that road. He would have to do some heavy convincing. Small pink tongue flicked out through parted lips to moisten them. His curse hit her ears, she’d been so lost in her thoughts she had not realized he was on the move. “Are you ok B-Bryant?” her eyes flicked up to his, concern filled the caramel depths quickly. When he went on to the edits and avoided her question, she debated on whether or not she’d even said it out loud.

“I can do that, New York is fascinating. I haven’t seen much of it yet. Sadly, I’ve been so busy looking for a place to live and setting everything up for my career, I’ve had no time to even see a bit of it.” Catching herself as she rambled on she smiled and slid her jacket on once again. “That is fine Mr. Brya.. I mean Mr. Danes.” She shook her head at her folly as she followed him out, continuing the conversation. “You mentioned to come back and check, so here I am!” She walked next him at an easy pace, the smell of the city hit her nostrils causing them to expand slightly. The smell was a combination of different things, all combining to make up the melting pot that was New York. “So a bistro, does that mean just sandwiches and soup?”
 
So she was busy looking for a place to live in New York City. Bryant liked that idea. In fact, he liked it well enough that the corners of his lips flicked up into a quick smile while she continued rambling. Nothing was said about her fiancé, and Bryant wondered where the man in her life fit into the picture.

“So here you are,” he echoed, leading the way out. Every step toward the door he could feel Brittany’s eyes burning into his back. She could scold him later for leaving. Right now, the only task he wanted to take on was catching up with Karli without “catching up” directly. Aware that she had recognized him the other night, he would push her for details about her life since graduation. The only thing he could remember from that day was the melancholic, irritated look on her face when he’d wound Joslyn in his arms instead of her. It should have been Karli, he knew that, and he knew that was why she had been upset, amongst the fact that he’d had sex with Joslyn and she’d conceived as a result.

His throat grew thick, and he had a minor, strained fluctuation in his vocals when he replied, “No.” Slowing to a stop at the corner of the block, he glanced around. “Bistros serve more than just sandwiches and soup, but you can get either one or both there if you’d like. I’m going to get the seafood pescatore.” When the signal changed, he shifted his weight, casually but intentionally brushing his arm against hers and cursing winter for the sleeves that blocked him from touching her directly.

The door to the small restaurant opened with the tinkling of a few small bells dangling above. Immediately they were greeted by a waiter and led to a table against a wall. Had Bryant been given the choice, and had it not been lunch hour rush, he would have had them seated near the window. It would have given him a better means of excuse to look away. Instead, his green eyes homed in on her chocolate gaze, and he wondered how she’d been and who the guy was who’d swept her off her feet. He couldn’t remember working with a Chad Oaken, but he saw different faces every day.

“Water, thanks,” Bryant told the waiter when asked for his drink. When the man had both orders, he dismissed himself to give them time to look over the menu. Glad he didn’t have to, content to watch Karli, Bryant leaned back in his seat, arms folded. “So you’re looking for a place to live in New York, huh? Any ideas yet, and what about that fiancé of yours? He’s helping with the move, isn’t he?”
 
Though she’d been busy looking at him, she did not realize he had stopped and she nearly ran into him. Sidestepping at the last possible second, she wound up next to him. Chewing her lips she looked up at him, “Oh?” She cocked one blonde brow high on her forehead as she turned to look at him. Karli crinkled her face in semi disgust; she was not a fan of seafood, fish yes but clams and mussels not so much. She laughed thinking about how opposite they were when he brushed her arm slightly and her mind went a bit hazy. Gawd Karli, get it together… He is a married man and that was ages ago. He doesn’t even remember you. She told herself as they crossed the street.

Sighing she followed him into the restaurant and smiled brightly. Thankfully she was still able to go out without much of a hassle, though she still was always prepared for anything. Knowing Steph , she’d put calls in letting the paparazzi know where she’d be. She sat across from him, her brown eyes sweeping over the interior. It was a modern fancy schmancy restaurant, decorated in black, silver and maroon. Her eyes fell to Bryant, looking at him through lowered lashes as she smiled, “This place is looks nice, I thought a Bistro was like a delicatessen and not a full restaurant.” She laughed and pulled her thick jacket off and spread her napkin on her lap.

Smiling up at the waiter, she responded with her drink order, “Water, with a slice of lemon please.” She Picked up her menu and studied it closely. She shook her head as Bryant’s voice invaded her thoughts, “Hmm, oh… Well Chad is busy doing his thing so no, he’s not helping to look.” She laughed, “You know what they say; absence makes the heart grow fonder…” She glanced down at her menu she was torn between salad and pasta. “I’m looking in Brooklyn… I really like the water so I’m concentrating on the Brighton Beach area.” She furrowed her brow, as the waiter approached, though by the time the waiter asked she had an answer, “Grilled Salmon BLT Salad, please.” She handed the menu to the waiter and sipped at the water he’d brought. “So do you live around here… I’m just assuming, but, I know if I did what you do I’d want to be close by to my work.” She smiled at him as she sat back in her chair.
 
Brooklyn. Bright Beach. She was searching not far from his neck of the woods. Firing his order at the waiter and handing off his menu, Bryant returned his glance to Karli. Memories of the summer they’d vacationed with his parents at a beach in southern Florida swamped his mind. He could remember swimming with her in the salty water, watching the waves part around her slender figure. The relaxed look of her face while she rested on the sand; then her shocked expression when he’d placed a hermit crab on her back. A puff of air shot out his nostrils, a quiet laugh, and his smile returned, genuine as ever and lopsided.

“I live in Brooklyn,” he replied. Every tear she’d shed he could remember. And each kiss that had stolen her breath away and made her stutter his name. “My roommate’s the one that helped with this.” He lifted his arm, showing off the white plaster cast. “Nick. If you ever meet him, just turn around and start running.” Chuckling, the waiter hadn’t been gone long before he returned with their meals. Bryant slid his foot out and the toe of his shoe brushed against Karli’s, an unintentional action, so he pulled it back an inch or two and started in on his plate. A few bites in, he picked up a mussel and pulled out the meat. The chewy substance slid down his throat after working it a few times in his jaw.

“So what made you decide to take a risk and become a vocalist?” he asked, knowing all too well that she had an amazing voice, which he’d had the pleasure of listening to again the other day. He wanted to tell her how good she sounded, amongst how good she looked. Lifting a fork to his mouth, he speared a shrimp, and stuck it in his mouth. “Did you graduate and get picked up, or go to school? Where are you from?” That one would hit base, he was sure. His eyes flashed with his knowledge of who she was, but he revealed nothing verbally, gave her no hint that he knew she was his Karli.

“Ever miss home?” The corners of his lips turned up. “I do sometimes. Headed to my parents’ for Christmas this year.” Catching her eyes, he held them. “Have to tour over Christmas, or do you get time off?”
 
Karli lifted her glass up to her lips and almost choked on the water as he stated he lived in Brooklyn. Panic set in a bit, Brooklyn was a big place they wouldn’t run into each other, would they? She joined his laughing, “Run from guys named Nick, I will have to keep that in mind.” Tilting her head she looked him over, he hadn’t changed all that much, not really. He was taller and a bit broader; her brown eyes took him in as she tilted her head to smile at him. The waiter had just finished placing her food in front of her when she felt his foot against hers briefly. She laughed and crossed her legs, “I f I play footsies with you does that mean you’ll finish my video faster?” she teased as he began eating.

Soon she followed suit, bowing her head briefly to say grace before digging in. The lemon pepper glaze on the salmon was divine, had it been a date she would have shared like the many times before. Her eyes lifted to him as he spoke. “I loved the stage, always got the lead in the musicals and well I just had a natural knack for it.” She smiled, and sadly wondered how he could have forgotten her. She took another bit and chewed it watching him, it was so sad to sit before her first love and have this conversation. She smiled lightly, though her eyes gave way to sadness. “I graduated and went back to my roots, like all country starlets I had my heart broke so I called it a day and retreated. Though it did help me write a few songs, the one you heard the other day and then I have a few others.”

“I’m from a little town called Brunswick in Georgia.” She looked into his eyes when he asked if she missed home, she stayed with him until he asked about Christmas. “Well that depends on your definition of home. My parents live in Galesburg, Illinois now and I do not think I could go back there after what happened,” She chewed on her lower lip a moment, “I’m off work, I am in the Thanksgiving day parade and then I’m flying home. I miss my parents; they’ve been to see me.” She took another bite of her salmon salad. Shaking her head she chewed quickly, “Forgive my manners. How did you know that this was the career for you and where are you from?”

She wondered if he would lie or if the statement of where she was from had sparked any memories. Secretly she hoped he’d be kicking himself and rushing to get his meal finished Karli was done with all this mess, the sooner she got away from him the sooner she could have herself a good long cry.
 
Forgotten her was hardly how he would have versed the current situation with Karli. Tormenting her was closer, but perhaps not direct to target. He felt his own pulse accelerate, the desire to start rattling off that he knew exactly who she was and where she was from was strong. Instead, he listened, watched her, and wondered if she would crack the moment she brought up their hometown. She didn’t want to go back because of what happened—between them—but was flying home after the Macy’s Day Parade. He nodded, giving sign that he was paying attention, and tried to conceal the impudence in his smile. She didn’t look like she wanted to hear his smart remarks, looked like she was in pain.

“Galesburg, Illinois,” he stated, bypassing her question about his career. Leaning forward, the arrogance in his grin became more prominent, and spread across his features quickly. He pushed his plate away, finished. “I’ll be flying home for Christmas, too. Been a while since I’ve seen my parents, but I try to fly them out every now and then. Don’t like going back home and taking a chance of seeing my ex.” He should have stopped there, but instead he continued, knowing what he said would no doubt affect her in one way or another. It was evident she knew who he was, and whether or not she knew he knew who she was, at that moment, didn’t matter to him. Now the barrel of his gun was aimed at her, pointed right between her eyes.

“As far as I know, she’s still pissed because I didn’t show up for prom. Shit happens, though, you know. I got drunk at a party, shown to a room. Something went down that she didn’t like, but she wouldn’t give me any time to explain myself. Instead she threw me out of her parents’ house.” Green eyes locked on hers, his eyebrows raised, he settled back in his seat, arms folded best as he could with his cast in front of him.
 
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