Page 12 of Hearts Adrift (A Texas Beach Town Romance #4)

“She didn’t speak up,” I go on, “but she shouldn’t have had to.

It shouldn’t have been a situation she was subjected to at all.

Being the one who brought her into the project, I should have been more aware.

Or noticed when the director kept asking for her to do this and that.

Catching her alone here and there on the set.

Asking her inappropriate things. I should’ve seen the signs. I should’ve …”

“It isn’t your fault.”

“And when I saw it for myself—just a glimpse, her in the greenroom, him back there alone with her for no reason at all, the uncomfortable look on her face … I felt like such a fucking idiot. He’d apparently been coming on to her the whole time she was there—since day fucking one .

I had no idea. No one said anything. Why doesn’t anyone ever just say anything?

” I spin around suddenly, throwing my hands in frustration.

“Because he’s a behemoth with all the power and connections?

No one can touch him? Is that it? Is that why people like him go unchecked for so long?

How many others had he done this to? … I couldn’t stay silent. So I … I confronted him.”

“The video.”

“Before that video. Before we even started shooting. I told him I knew. I told him she was my friend. I told him to keep his hands off of her. And y’know what he said back?

He said, ‘I heard you have a temper.’ And: ‘You must feel really lucky to be reprising this role.’ It’s a sequel we’re shooting, the sequel to Wingless Angels …

directed by the fucking Devil. He gave me a look I’ll never forget: like he was playing the role of a tough alpha wolf who found it amusing that a pup like me thought that my words could intimidate him.

And who knows? … Maybe it really was funny, to think I could stop him. ”

“It’s not funny. You tried to do something about it.”

“And this might have all gone a different way,” I tell him, “had I not taken his bait. Because not a minute later, we were about to go into the next take, and that bastard … he had the nerve, the fuckin’ nerve, to make a big speech to everyone—cast and crew—congratulating us on being a part of this great film, and to relish—he said ‘relish’—in how ‘lucky’ we were to be practicing our craft while so many others in the industry were still struggling to become known.

Isn’t it nice, he asked us, to be able to enjoy what we love?

” I stare down at the table, hearing the echoes of his words in my mind—and the look on Lexi’s face as he said them, visible across the room.

“Apart from maybe my friend, who was there, in the back of the room … I was the only one on that set who heard the second, sinister meaning behind his words. I guess his little stunt worked exactly as he expected. It set me off. I shouted at him. He played all innocent, like we didn’t just have words a minute ago, and I flew straight from my spot and punched that fucker in the face.

And for a brief, beautiful moment … it felt so …

so satisfying.” My arms drop to my sides.

I guess I’m sort of acting it out. “Then it didn’t. And I knew I was done for.”

Finn’s eyes drop to the table, maybe trying to picture the lead-up to the video he saw, to reimagine the scene. “You think he … set you up? To hit him? To end you?”

“Doesn’t actually matter. I threw the punch. It’s over.”

“But you said he didn’t press charges.”

“Doesn’t have to. I’m ended anyway. Tanked.

The big fish always eat the little fish.

He smelled the blood in the water and … fuck, how many more lame metaphors can I come up with to signify that River Wolfe as we know it is gone?

” I lean back against the wall, arms crossed.

“I’m not a clever writer. I’m an actor. We play roles.

And on that day, I played the role of a guppy who took the bait.

” I bow my head. “Worst part is, I haven’t heard from her …

from my friend. Don’t even know if she’s okay.

I can’t get ahold of her. Did I just make everything worse for her? ”

“I’m sorry,” Finn says suddenly, gripping the back of the nearest chair, the wobbly one.

“I didn’t mean for you to go through this all again.

It must take so much out of you. And it’s so new.

And … ugh ,” he grunts to himself. “Even said I wouldn’t do this.

I wouldn’t interrogate you. I even promised myself. And here I am.”

“It’s okay,” I assure him. “You did the right thing, to get the truth outta me. Protecting your family. Look at that, we have something in common … Protective instincts.” I shrug myself off the wall and come up to his side. He meets my eyes as I pat him on the shoulder. “Thank you.”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Why are you thanking me?”

“If I was you, I probably wouldn’t have come here and heard me out.

I would’ve written me off as a hotheaded tool.

Would’ve taken a look at that video and never wanted to see me again.

” My hand drops from his shoulder. “For the record, you can still do that. You can go. Pretend you never came here. I’d understand. ”

“River …”

“I would’ve been wary of me, too. Honestly, it’s likely in your best interest,” I point out. “To not have anything to do with me. Plausible deniability and all that, if you don’t want my presence here to reflect on your family. In fact … if you want … I can leave. No refund needed. I’ll just go.”

“No,” he says so suddenly, I draw silent.

Also his hand just flung out. Took hold of my shirt.

I meet his eyes, stunned by the sudden action, waiting for him to ask me something, to dig deeper, to question a detail in my story that didn’t make sense to him, to poke at my recollection of the events for holes like a detective.

Instead, he says, “I brought food.”