Page 4 of Stone Rules

She smirks at me. “I didn’t know you could become a centerfold overseas.”

“First of all,Melons Magazinecalls usCup Cakes, notPlaymates. And it was easier than you think; they have tons of magazines for men over there.” I narrow my eyes at her. “How did you even know about it?”

“Really?” she asks. “My fiancé is on a football team, Charlie. Do you know what kind of smut circulates around those locker rooms?” She swats my arm. “Why didn’t you tell me? What happened to the sisters’ code?”

I let out a deep sigh. I feel terrible that I withheld information from her. We’ve always told each other everything. The years we spent abroad, even though we were both running away from our pasts, we relied only on each other to get through each day—and those days became some of the best of my life.

When we parted ways last year; when I took off, leaving her with no other choice but to return home to the man she loved, I had to up my game; find more means of making money. Had Piper been able to find me, I know she would have sent some, and for that reason alone, I never told her where I was.

“I didn’t want to embarrass your family,” I lie.I didn’t want to ask your family for money.

She puts down the vase she was examining and crosses the room towards me. “You could never embarrass us, Charlie. Youarefamily. Don’t you know that by now? And the pictures were actually very tasteful. You’re beautiful.”

“Yeah, well, airbrushing works miracles,” I say, glancing down at the many tiny scars on my arms.

Piper touches my arm. “No. You’re beautiful even with your scars.”

My face twitches with a half-smile before I look around the small but quaint apartment. “Anyway, thanks for the offer, but I think I’m going to stay here.”

“Here?” Her eyes widen in surprise. “Are you sure about that?”

My eyes take in the tiny kitchen off the living room, the sparse furniture, and the almost bare walls. “I’ve never been here. I have no memories of this place. It means nothing to me. So, why the hell not? I only have to stay in town for a few weeks. Just until I get the official executor papers and then I can put it up for sale. Will you help me get rid of her shit?”

“Yes. Of course,” she says. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.” Her eyes meet the floor and she sulks. “But, do you really have to leave again? I just got you back. We have so much to catch up on.”

We walk through the apartment to the far side of the living room so we can check out the sole bedroom. “You mean so I can hear all the sickening details about how much you love the hot football star and his adorable daughter? Or so you can hear about all the hotties I shagged while you were back home putting it to him?”

Her mouth falls open. Then she closes it and rolls her eyes. “Well . . . yeah.”

“I can’t stay here, Pipes.” I walk through the doorway into the bedroom of the total stranger that was my mom. “I already ran into one of her perverted friends at the funeral. I can’t risk that happening again.”

“So you are choosing to live in her apartment? That makes total sense,” she says sarcastically, as she shakes her head and opens the closet to peruse my mother’s belongings. She gasps, reaching up to the shelf overhead and pulling down a shiny metal statue. “What are you going to do with this?” She holds her arm out to me, offering me the Best Actress Oscar my mother won twenty-four years ago.

It was the last award she ever won. I know that all too well. I instinctively rub the back of my head, remembering how much it hurt to have the heavy statue meet the back of my skull from time to time. “I don’t know. Sell it? Throw it out? Melt it down and pour it over her grave? Maybe we should have buried it with her since it was the only thing in her life that really mattered.”

Piper places the award back where she found it and closes the closet door. “There are others in there. I wonder why she didn’t display them, since they were so important and all.”

“Mmmm,” I mumble in response, staring out the large picture window that overlooks a bustling street. The skyscrapers that line the view are breathtaking. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until just now. Even though we didn’t live here, my mom was always hauling me to the city for one reason or another. A screening. An interview. Lunch with a producer. Dinner with her dealer.

My mother refused to give up what she thought was her destiny; A-list roles portraying young, vibrant women. She was offered dozens of roles after I was born. Supporting roles. The best friend. The quirky aunt. The mother. She thought they were beneath her so she was always holding out for that next Oscar-winning part. The part that never came. And the longing for it drove her slowly insane.

“Maybe this will tell you.” Piper reaches into a bedside table drawer.

“Tell me what?”

“Why she didn’t display her awards.” She holds out a leather-bound book. “It looks like a diary.”

I take it from her, but my hands hesitate before opening it. Do I really want to do this? Delve into the innermost thoughts of the person I despised most in this world? But curiosity gets the better of me and I flip open the cover, revealing the very first page.

August 30, 2000

My throat burns and my eyes sting with bad memories. I know most six-year-olds aren’t good with remembering dates. But this one—it would be burned into my memory for all eternity. It wasn’t my birthday. It wasn’t the day I got a new puppy. It wasn’t my first day of school.

It was the day she turned into a monster. It was the very first day she hit me. And she decided to record it for posterity.

I put the journal down and race to the bathroom to lose the contents of my stomach.

Piper runs after me. “Oh my God, Charlie. Are you okay? What is it?” She wets a hand towel and offers it to me as I close the lid on the toilet and sit down on it.

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