Page 12 of Shatter

I just thought the thrill from going to Harrison's club would have lasted a little bit longer.

But who am I kidding? Getting a thrill for an hour isn't going to address the hollowness I feel in my chest where my heart should be. I could argue. I could fight back. I could hop on a plane tomorrow and live the rest of my life in Bali.

Except for the trust my mother and agent set up when I'd secured my first advance. I was a minor. So they established a conservatorship that they control until... actually I'm not sure how long. They give me a small stipend for food and Ubers. It's a short leash.

I'm America's sweetheart - the most in-demand young actress in Hollywood.

And completely broke.

Chapter seven

Harrison

Chris: Mel would really like you to come up to Aspen with us next week. Don't disappoint her

Isqueeze the phone in my hand until it squeaks in protest. I take a deep grounding breath in and out, wondering where it all went wrong.

It's a month after my night with Mel, and I haven't been sleeping - barely been eating. I know I've lost weight and my weight lifting has suffered for it too.

I reread the text message he sent me a few weeks ago before lifting my hand and knocking on the door of a massive Aspen Winter home. It's more of a ski lodge than a mansion, with huge floor-to-ceiling windows and wood logs.

Voices ring out from behind the solid wood door before it swings open to reveal my brother.

"Ah! Harrison! I wasn't sure you'd make it," he says in greeting, clapping me a little too hard on my shoulder in greeting. He winces as he realizes which shoulder he hit. The scars healed a long time ago, but he watched my entire healing journey, so he knows how painful they were.

Honestly, I hadn't decided if I was going to come or not until a few hours ago. I've gotten to a place where I've forgiven my brother, even if I haven't forgotten that he's the reason I'm disfigured. His wife I can barely tolerate. But when I woke up this morning, from a shitty sleep, I figured that punishing myself for being a homewrecker by watching Mel and her boyfriend for a few days sounded like the best form of self-flagellation.

According to the IG post she made this morning of the two of them snuggled on an outdoor chair at this home, she hasn't told him about the affair. I'm not sure one encounter counts as an affair, but the self-loathing I have in my gut doesn't care. I crossed a line with her, even if my intentions were good. She's family. She's taken. And I'm... what? An old, scarred, sex club owner. Her step-uncle.

I sigh, stepping into the vast entryway, not bothering to hide my displeasure, pulling a suitcase behind me.

Luckily, Chris has never been the most observant.

"You're just down the hallway, across from the lovebirds. They promised to keep it down at night once you got here," he adds, lewdly, and my lip curls in disgust. That's his step-daughter he's talking about. I drag my suitcase down the hall and push open the door he motioned to, setting my luggage on the bed.

Listening to Mel making love to her boyfriend would be just the punishment I deserve.

I rented my own car, and I know I can leave at any time, but maybe a part of me is secretly hoping he's a douchebag? Or maybe I can pull her aside and demand that she tell him the truth. Even douchebags don't deserve to get cheated on.

I close my eyes, taking a fortifying breath in and out again, before turning on my heel and walking back into the combined living room and dining room.

"Harry!" Mel's sweet voice calls out, and I'm barely able to catch her as she flings herself at me, wrapping her legs around my waist and arms around my neck.

Whatever kind of greeting I was expecting, it wasn't this. She was pissed at me the last time we talked.

And with her legs wrapped around me like she had that night, I fight off an erection as I try to peel her off of me. Does she not have any idea how inappropriate this is? In front of her parents? And boyfriend?

I clear my throat and try to gather my composure as three other sets of eyes watch the interaction. Where I expect to find disgust or suspicion, all three sets of eyes are smiling fondly at the interaction. Of course they are, they have no idea I know what it feels like to be inside her, in this very position, against a wall.

"Uh... hey, Mel." I clear my throat again.

Mel simply grins up at me smugly, all too happy with my discomfort.

"Mel's always loved her Uncle Harrison," Athena says, leaning over so only the boy next to her can hear. But I heard her. I wince. Fucking uncle. I'm her fucking uncle.

"Hey, man. You must be Harrison. I've heard so much about you," Parker Eli, her boyfriend and co-actor, says as he walks up, hand extended. He's a good looking kid. I fight a wince. Because he's around Mel's age and I certainly wasn't looking at her like a kid a month ago. He's tall, lithe, dirty blonde hair that's shaggy and unruly, but he has dimples in his cheeks and one in his chin that give him classically good looks that could put him in any magazine tomorrow.

"Uh. Yeah. You, too. I guess." It's a lie. No one's told me anything about him other than what I've seen on social media and the press. In fact, Mel conveniently left anything about Parker out that night at The Envelope.