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@Cloudyqueen69: That would be a no, @cruelgirl810.
My fling with Mallory was always destined to end here on this island. It has officially run its course, yet I can’t help the anger that bubbles inside me.
She fucking left and tried to do it without saying goodbye.
That should be enough reason for me to lick my wounds and move on, but no matter how hard I try to convince myself that this is for the best, I’m not ready to let her go.
As I attempt to walk back to my hut and drink away the night, Brad storms my way. His face is red, his eyes blazing like fire.
I try to bypass him, not in the mood to deal with him right now. I need to have a moment of quiet. Time to process what I’ve just learned and how to deal with the fallout.
This standoff was inevitable, but I really hoped it would be later. Like when I was halfway through a bottle of rum.
I probably should have gone straight to him, but to be honest, I don’t give a shit about him.
He’s going to fire me anyway, so who the hell cares?
“Paxton.” His voice booms through the open air as he points an accusing finger at me. “You’re done. Your little girlfriend ruined our movie.”
The man looks unhinged. I can practically feel the heat of rage radiating from him in waves, like he’s ready to erupt.
“Look,” I say calmly, trying to defuse his anger. “It’s not her fault. Teagan—”
“Stop.” He laughs bitterly and shakes his head. “You think I’m stupid?” he says with a sneer. “She ruined it, and since you’re fucking her, I’m holding you accountable. So now you’re out of a job, too.”
“One, despite what you think, I had no clue they were walking. If I did, I would have tried to stop them. Two, I’m hardly out of a job. You’re not my only client, and in case you haven’t realized it, you’re yesterday’s news. Newer, hotter talent is knocking down my door. So good riddance and good luck.” I turn to leave, done with him. He fired me. I don’t have to stand here and listen to another damn thing.
“You and that little bi—”
I spin around, stalking toward him threateningly. “Don’t ever talk about Mallory.” I step right up to him, looking down at the smarmy asshole.
I’m not afraid of Brad Wright. I don’t care who he thinks he is. I don’t care that Mallory left, and I’m fucking pissed at her. I won’t let him talk shit about her. Not now. Not ever.
“You’re fired.”
My eyebrow lifts because I thought we’d just established that. I laugh. “I quit, you fucking joke.”
Brad stands there, his expression a mixture of shock and anger.
“You can’t speak to me like that,” he squeals, sounding pathetic and deranged.
“I’m done with this.” Pivoting my back to him, I head toward my rum.
“You think you can walk away like that?” he says, incredulous. “You’re done. Finished. Your career is toast.”
Brad’s angry eyes burn into my back as I walk away, but I don’t care because I know he’s wrong.
My career isn’t over.
I can’t help but smirk. I can’t believe I’ve put up with that dick for as long as I have.
I’m finally free of him and all the bullshit he brings.
When the path opens to the two huts, on instinct, I look toward hers. She’s probably gone by now, but that thought doesn’t stop my feet from carrying me toward hers, up the stairs, and inside.
It’s empty.
Of course, it is. She couldn’t get off this island fast enough.
The sweet smell of her perfume lingers in the air, the only sign she was ever here.
I can’t be in here, surrounded by her scent. My stomach turns, and my breathing grows heavy.
I rush out, gulping in a lung full of air, trying to rid myself of her memory. It hurts too damn bad.
When I’ve pulled myself together, I rush into mine but find I’m faced with the same problem.
Even though she’s not here, she’s still everywhere.
Touches of her fragrance remind me of every moment I spent with her.
Of the way she would lie on my bed, blonde hair fanning my pillow.
The white T-shirt she wore mocks me from the chair in the corner. I consider starting a fire and burning it.
Fuck.
Before I can think better of it, I’m crossing the space and swiping the bottle of rum off the counter.
I take a swig, letting the liquid slide down my throat, trying my best to numb everything away.
How much do I need to drink to make her presence in this room disappear?
Something stronger than anger bubbles up inside my body, filling my lungs and making my breathing hard.
How did everything go so wrong? Only a few days ago, it seemed we were on the right path. The film was being made, and Mallory was in my bed.
