It was almost comical.
I was hurt
And pissed.
And floundering even more than ever before.
But Sam looked like he had just saved a litter of puppies from a burning building.
“Well, no. Not anymore you’re not.” He smiled proudly.
“Oh my God!” I threw my hands up in frustration. “You have mental issues.” I should have looked up. I didn’t. I kept pacing. “You seem to be so fucking hell-bent on saving me, but what about you?” I should have shut up. I didn’t. I kept ranting. “You were planning to jump off that bridge too, Sam. Maybe I should run to your employees and share that little secret. But no, I wouldn’t do that. Why? Because I’m a decent human being who respects your privacy. Congratulations, Sam. I didn’t jump, but when this little secret trickles down shit creek, I’ll wish I had.”
When I finally—fucking finally—looked up, Sam was gone. He was still standing in the room, but he’d left me all the same. His face was pale, and his fists were clenched at his sides.
“Listen up, princess,” he snarled. It wasn’t a term of endearment that time. It was an insult that hurt far worse than any other name he possibly could have called me.
I didn’t even have enough time to flinch from his verbal blow before he continued.
“Before you go around slinging insults from inside your glass mansion, you might want all the facts. Four months ago, my mentally ill sister went out for a stroll on the bridge. Two days later, they recovered her body from the bay.”
My hand flew up, covering my mouth as acrid guilt settled in my stomach.
“The last conversation I ever had with her was that morning when she adamantly told me she was fine.” He spat the word then cracked his neck. “She wasn’t. And neither are you. Levee, I never wanted to die. I go up to that bridge because I want Anne to come back.”
My vision swam. “Oh God.”
“Maybe you were never going to jump, but you were up on that bridge for a reason. Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. But I won’t apologize for telling Devon. I’ll gladly leave now, but one day, when I see your face again, it’s not going to be on the news because they found your body washed up on the shores of the bay. You’re fucking welcome.” After snatching his shoes off the ground, he stormed out of my room.
“Sam, wait!” I followed after him, catching up just as he got to the front door—a cigarette already dangling from his lips.
“Don’t,” he snapped. “I can’t deal with this. You’re not at all who I thought you were.”
“Sam, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I—”
“Or maybe you’re exactly who I thought you’d be.” He lifted his hands, motioning around my lush foyer.
That hurt. A lot.
But not as much as the idea of losing him.
“I’m sorry, please—”
The door slammed before I could even finish the apology.
“Wait!” I yanked the door open, but a sleepy Devon stood on the other side. “Move!” I tried to shove him out of the way.
But he only shook his head and backed me into the house. “Levee, stop. I had Carter take him home.”
“You did what?” I screeched, rushing back to the door just in time to see the taillights disappearing.
“You have bigger shit to deal with than that jackass.”
Gritting my teeth, I stalked in his direction. “You’re fired.”
“Oh please. I have a good mind to quit after the shit I found out you’ve been hiding from me,” he bit right back.
“I wasn’t going to jump!” I yelled for what felt like the millionth time, but when it cleared my lips, I realized it was the best lie I’d ever told.
Even I believed it.
Sam hadn’t though.
Deep down, I’d seriously considered it. More times than I should have.
Daily.
My legs began to tremble, but they never even had a chance to give out before I was caught by Devon’s embrace.
“Shh. I gotcha,” he whispered into my hair. “Always, Levee.”
“I, um… I think… I need”—Sam—“help.”
“Then we’ll get it.”
Shit.
IT’D BEEN ANOTHER sleepless night for me. After some huge guy I assumed was another bodyguard drove me home, I’d sat on my porch with Sampson at my side and watched the sun rise. I was starting to feel like I’d never get a full night of sleep again. It didn’t take long for me to regret having stormed out on Levee. She had problems, and I had done the one thing I’d sworn I’d never do again after Anne died—I’d walked away. But fuck, her explosive rant had cut me deep.
That’s not completely true though.
Anne had cut me deep.
Levee had unwittingly rubbed salt in the already-gaping wound.
I needed to apologize. She didn’t deserve that shit. If I went back over there, I could probably make her understand my over-the-top reaction.
But that was the last thing I really needed.
I had absolutely no business trying to pursue something with her. We came from different worlds—and only part of that had anything to do with her being famous. Hell, that was the easy part. We were both so filled with pain. Only she was determined to escape it, while I physically ached to stop her. We’d be a fucking train wreck together.
But that woman…
It’d only been a week and we’d only spent one night together, but, God, she’d felt like the great I’d always been searching for. Who cared if she had issues I would probably always stress about?
Oh, right. Me.
But, when we were together, it was easy to forget how we’d met. It was easy to get lost in her whiskey eyes and her contagious smile.
Her lithe body and her smooth, white skin.
Her soft breasts and her tight…
Damn it.
I desperately needed someone to talk to about her. But since Levee was such a public figure it made it tricky. I couldn’t air her bullshit like she so obviously already thought I was going to do. My mom was still struggling with Anne’s death. I couldn’t bring this kind of drama up without upsetting her. She was just starting to get it back together.
I had one choice…
So, at nine a.m., I grabbed my wallet and headed out the door.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing up here?” Ryan asked when I walked into his office, closing the door behind me.
“I just hired you. I fucked up last night and I need to talk, but you can’t say a word to anyone.”
“What. Did. You. Do?” he said very slowly, pushing away from his desk and rising to his feet.
“By the way, I really wish I’d known you charged four hundred dollars an hour before I paid Jen for your time. Fucking hell, man.”
He cocked an angry eyebrow. “One, stay the fuck away from Jen. Two, we’re best friends! You didn’t have to pay for my time, asshole.”
“Yeah, I know, but I needed attorney-client privilege for what I’m about to tell you.”
“Fuck, Sam. This does not sound good.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he perched on the edge of his desk, and then motioned for me to spill it.
“I’ve been kinda seeing Levee Williams, and last night, I slept with her,” I rushed out.
His head snapped up. “Levee Williams, the singer?”
I quickly nodded.
“No shit?” he breathed. A grin spread across his face, but just as quickly, his eyes grew wide. “Oh, Jesus, did you hurt her? Is she trying to claim you forced yourself on her?”
“What? No!” I shouted, jumping to my feet.
“Then what the fuck did you do that you suddenly need a criminal defense attorney?”
“Nothing! I just wanted to talk to you without worrying that you’re gonna run your big-ass mouth. For fuck’s sake, Ryan! The first thing you assume is that I assaulted her?”