Page 96 of The Villain Edit

Four days after her story dropped, Ash comes out of hiding with a vengeance, filling her social media with photos. She’s all dressed up, out with people she calls friends, but I’ve never heard her speak about.

When I see pictures of her in a club, her arms around some douche—musician, apparently—I have to get up and do one of Jax’s stupid workouts so I don’t explode.

Even then, it’s not enough.

I can’t bring myself to put down my phone. I set an alert for anything she’s tagged in. Next thing I know, it’s 2 a.m. and she’s shitfaced, flashing the paps when she gets out of a car.

I’m halfway to the door—I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night and I have to be in my trailer in three hours—before I realize I cannot do this. I’m trying to rehabilitate my image. Chasing after my drunk ex and getting into a public altercation over what I’m doing there is the exact opposite of what I need to be doing.

I call David. Bodyguard duty—if he trails Ash and keeps her safe, I’ll give him a twenty thousand dollar bonus and a holiday.

I don’t sleep. Ashley doesn’t stop.

Every break I get on set, I’m watching her. She’s getting tagged at some rich asshole’s mansion, where the party’s still going. David was able to sneak in, at least.

The director yells at me to get my head out of my ass—how can I forget the one fucking line I have in this scene?

I want to tear my hair, but the moment I touch it someone will descend upon me to fix it and I’d rather keep every human at arm’s length right now.

If Ash is celebrating the end of her career after telling the world she tried to seduce Nic, she’s not going out quietly. She stops for a wardrobe change, then she’s back at it, surrounded by the usual types of hangers-on.

She’s killing me.

David too.

I haven’t slept in days. When is she going to stop?

David

I don’t know if she stops. One day she’s dancing on a bar, the next, she’s gone. No new posts, and no one tagging her. Nothing from the paps. The only thing anyone is talking about is a cheating scandal where both partners of a celebrity power couple discovered they were sleeping with the same nanny.

I send David to Ashley’s house. It was trashed so bad it’s boarded up. No one is living there. She has a cousin in LA, so I send David on a goose chase to track her down. He does, and it turns out her cousin is dating my personal trainer. Jax refuses to tell David if he’s seen Ashley. When I call him, he tells me that if I even ask him once, he’ll make my life hell and I still won’t be any closer to Ashley. Which has to mean she’s not there.

Next, I send David to find Wendy. It doesn’t go well. Wendy chews him out, throws a shoe at him, and sends him on his way without giving up Ashley’s location.

“She’s not at Wendy’s, I’m positive,” David swears. I nearly send him back because I’m not so sure and I’m worried, but he tells me he’d rather face Jax again before he hangs up on me.

It’s the weekend. I can’t throw myself into work and my apartment is suddenly too small. I’ve been pacing like a caged animal all morning. I hop on my motorcycle and head to Malibu.

I don’t need reminders of Michael’s goddamn legacy—I need the beach. A paved path winds down the hill the house is perched on and I leave my shoes at the end of it, walking out into the soft sand.

The fresh air helps, but standing in front of the ocean drives home how small and helpless I am in the face of my problems. I drop down into the sand and stare at the waves rolling in.

Everything I’ve ever done in my whole life is out there. Someone can dredge up my secrets, or they could float up, and I can’t stop it. I can’t protect my reputation, Michael’s legacy. Not from the whole goddamn world.

I can’t even find Ash. She’s blocked my number.

Everything she’s done since handing me that fruit basket has been a giant “fuck you” because I hurt her. I didn’t believe her when she came to tell me the truth.

“She didn’t do it,” I mumble to the setting sun.

I can’t prove it, but I know it, deep in my soul. She loved me, and I destroyed that love.

I love her. I know that now too. All of me, every corner of my soul belongs to her and the realization settles over me in waves, each one a little bigger, a little stronger. Even when I thought she’d sold me out, I still loved her. Hated her, too, but loved her more.

Maybe it’s better this way. We can’t be together.

I miss her so damn much.

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