Page 32 of Faking It

Still screaming, I stomp on his feet, but it has no effect. His tongue swipes up my neck. “Stop playing hard to get,” he whispers in my ear. “I can fucking make you or break you in this town—”

Michael suddenly grunts, and I feel a jerk as he’s yanked away from me. I spin in time to see him get slammed into the hedge, a firm-looking frame towering over him.

“The fuck are you doing?” Carter growls, pushing him again.

“This doesn’t concern you, dipshit,” Michael responds as I take off, running like the hounds of hell are after me.

Chapter 11

Gideon

I hear Ana’s running footsteps fading, but I keep my furious glare on Michael. I’ll find her later. Right now, dealing with this piece of shit is more important. Anger rolls through me in violent waves, evoked by her screams and what I saw. Just the thought of being too late makes me want to beat the crap out of my ex-colleague.

“You held that girl against her will, so yeah, it fucking concerns me,” I snap, giving him another slam into the hedge, wishing it was a concrete wall. “What were you thinking, forcing yourself on her like that?”

“Oh, James, James. Always the hero,” Michael snarls. “That bitch wasn’t a damsel in distress. She wanted it as much as I did.”

With a growl, I grab his throat. Michael croaks, clawing at my hand. “You know what the fuck I can do. How many bastards I beat to save your sorry ass. If you come near Ana again, I don’t care about whatever powers you might have. I will fucking end you.”

I push him to the floor, and he lands with a thud, rubbing his throat and staring up at me incredulously. “You fucked her, didn’t you? Asshole. Always getting the girl.”

Kneeling beside him, I lash him with the coldest stare I can muster. “Touch her again. I dare you.”

“Is that a challenge?” He smirks.

“Fuck around and find out.” I push to stand and leave him lying there. He mumbles something under his breath as I make the climb to the upper floor. My blood is still boiling. Ana’s screams have stained my mind.

Earlier, I decided to find her. I wanted to clear things up, to apologize for messing up her audition and to offer help in any way I can. I also wanted to address that stare she keeps giving me, like she expects me to hurt her. It’s eating me up, especially when I recall how our meeting ended six years ago.

As I reach the upper deck, joining the party crowd, memories of that night came back.

The way she stiffened when I told her my name, how she shut down after that, tending to the other customers while barely regarding me. Though she was a stranger, it bothered me. I sat there, waiting for an opening to ask if I’d offended her in anyway.

Then my cell phone rang. Dad.

The phone call took me out back, where I spent the next ten minutes arguing with him over a movie role that he wanted me to take. Michael had his eyes set on it, so I assumed Dad didn’t want me to audition for it. I assumed wrong, and the offer expired. Dad called me lazy and a pussy for not wanting to compete with Michael.

As I let him know how much his flip-flopping confused me, the back door opened, then Ana stormed out. For an instant, I shut off Dad’s reply and zeroed in on her, seeing her entire frame for the first time that night. Back then, she was even curvier than she is now, her jeans pants hugging her round frame. I closed my gaping mouth as another woman emerged right behind her. Within a glance, I knew it was her mother. Same dark hair, similar features. Even their body shape looked the same.

Dad’s gruff command brought me back to the phone call, but from the corner of my eyes, I saw them arguing. Though her back faced me, her clenched fists, wide stance, the rigid line of her shoulders were a clear sign she was pissed.

So was her mother.

The older woman said something that made Ana’s body sag. I forced myself to remain where I was when she dropped to her knees. It was a private conversation. I shouldn’t intrude. But, fuck, the urge to scoop her up and hug her tightly almost made me give in.

Finally, her mother stormed away, disappearing around the side of the bar.

“Are you even listening to me?” Dad exclaimed.

“Of course, I am. Doesn’t help my confusion, though. One moment, you’re telling me to stand back and let Michael get the role. Next minute, you’re telling me off for not going for it. Decide, Dad. What do you really want?”

Ana shot up from her knees, whirling to face me. From the alarm in her eyes, her pale expression, the panicked breaths that made her chest bounce rapidly, it was obvious she’d thought they were alone. With an urge to assure her that I stood too far away to overhear them, I make my way toward her.

“Dad, let me call you back,” I blurted, cutting his reply.

Ana broke into a sob as I approached, then she turned and ran. I followed, taking the guest entrance, and going back to the bar to wait for her.

She never showed up.

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