Chapter 12

Zander

I learned after my first visit to ‘rehab’ to keep my mouth shut, to lock everything up tight, to put on a mask, and to wear it at all times.

And now, I’m waiting for the woman who made me want to remove it permanently.

After confirming she’s on her way, every second sitting on the steps of the lake house I’ve hired is the worst kind of torment.

Somewhere between the ambulance ride, then the car the FBI provided, I realized her opinion matters more to me than anyone I’ve ever known.

At the tell-tale sound of the rotors, I rise to my feet and watch as the black helicopter appears over the horizon.

My heart starts to thump unevenly in my chest as I run scenario after scenario in my mind of the possible outcomes.

She’s either going to be pissed and never speak to me again. Or she’s going to be happy I’m alive.

Given she could only be here if Agent Greyson decided she was trustworthy, I’m hoping like hell she’s leaning more towards happy.

I can’t decide whether to greet her when she lands or to stay where I am, so I hover mid-way, halfway out, standing in the middle of the grassed parking spot, still indented from the trailers parked out here only a few weeks ago.

There won’t be any movies made here for a while. Not while I’ve rented it for three months and paid in advance.

By then, my father will be in jail, and the FBI will have decided how much of a risk it is for me to remain in the country.

Whether I stay that long depends on Mia and her answer to the question I’m terrified to ask.

The sun glints off the window of the helicopter, making it impossible to see her inside.

When the door opens, and she emerges, she doesn’t look at me as she ducks under the blades.

She jogs awkwardly bags in both her hands as the helicopter pilot lifts off again.

Mia drops her bags, and we stare at each other. Her face is expressionless as she slowly takes a step towards me.

I move my feet, heart racing as we both keep moving until we’re within touching distance.

Her eyes start to glisten, and her entire body starts to shake. Her voice comes out rough. “I was there. I saw you speak. I heard the gunshot.”

I’m so stunned; I just stare at her lips; sure I’m hearing her wrong.

She takes a hesitant step forward. “Why did the FBI bring me here?”

A knot solidifies in my stomach, twisting painfully as I try to find the words to explain. “I wanted to...”

After rehearsing what I was going to say, after thinking I knew what I wanted to tell her, I can’t find a single word.

If ever I needed a script to follow, it’s now.

I run a hand over my face and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “You want a drink?”

Her eyebrows knit together as she shakes her head. “I want an explanation.”

I wince. “I know. I’m sorry. I can tell you everything if you think you can handle it?”

Her eyes narrow, and a wry smile plays at her lips. “I watched you die today. I think I can handle it.”

I’m not sure she can. But she’s here, and I have a chance, that’s all that matters right now.

***

Mia

I follow him inside, so utterly exhausted, I’m not sure I can take any more surprises.

Almost like the last time I saw him, but minus the horrific stain, he’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. His feet are bare, and he looks like he’s just stepped out of the shower.

The lake house has been cleaned, and the wine rack is filled. As if proving how long he’s had to organize all this, there are even a couple of bags by the door.

I have so many questions, but I’m close to overload. I’ve gone from worrying about him to seeing him die, then finding out he’s working with the FBI.

Maybe I do need a drink?

At least I don’t have to worry about paying for anything this time.

Zander gestures to the sofa, but I shake my head. “I left my things outside, but I’d like to get changed. It’s been a long day.”

He jams his hands into his jean pockets and nods. “When did you eat last?”

My stomach rumbles in response. “Breakfast, maybe? My flight was going to leave LAX around lunchtime. I was planning on eating before I left.”

He works his jaw. “Why didn’t you leave then?”

I sigh heavily and lean my hip against the sofa. “I heard about the press conference, and after finding a few things out about your friend, I was worried you were going to try the same thing.”

Zander’s shoulders stiffen. “You were worried about me?”

I shrug. Still caught between annoyance and relief he’s alive, I’m too shattered to even try to explain how panicked I was. “Can we just pause this while I take a shower?”

He flinches but turns. “You know where everything is. I’ll go get your bag and make you something to eat.”

It’s worse than awkward, but I need to be a little more put together. And I’m feeling and probably looking like a wilted plant in need of reviving.

It’s getting dark outside, and if I want to stay awake long enough to hear him out, I’ll need to move before I give in to the urge to flake on the sofa.

I drag myself towards the bathroom and find more bags inside the bedroom. I run the shower and grimace as I catch sight of my reflection.

I look haggard. I doubt a shower and something to eat is going to fix the level of damage today wrecked.

But Zander has been through just as much, so I push through my exhaustion and scrub my skin under the water until I’m feeling slightly more human.

Zander must have put my bag just inside the door when I was showering. I’m not sure what that says that he didn’t knock or announce himself.

But he didn’t assume anything either, which means he feels as awkward as I do.

I pull out clean underwear, a pair of jeans, and shrug into them. I pull on a t-shirt and go barefoot like Zander as I pad back into the living area.

I’ve obviously taken longer than I realized. Zander has got the fire going, he’s made me grilled cheese sandwiches and has opened a bottle of wine.

He smiles uneasily as he gestures to the plate. “I wasn’t sure if that would be okay. They’re dropping off more food tomorrow.”

I grab the plate and head back to the sofa and sink into it. Zander pours the wine as he takes a seat at the opposite end of the couch.

I’m so hungry, I wolf down at the food, barely taking the time to chew. Zander smiles as he reaches over and hands me a glass of icy wine.

I drink it in gulps, Zander's eyes never leaving me as I wait for the liquid warmth to spread through my body.

When I’m sure I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I sit back, curl my legs under me. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

He takes a sip of his wine, his jaw working, his body tense. “Mike’s book is going to be published. I wanted to be the one to tell you, so you understand why it had to be this way.”

A deep frown is etched into his head as he stares at the floor. “My father started giving me weed when I was eight to help me sleep. By the time Mike started speaking out, I was sixteen, and I was doing coke on breaks just to get through the day. Mike, Brooke, and I worked thirteen-hour days right from the time we were first on dad’s variety show at age six. If we weren’t recording, we were rehearsing, and if we weren’t doing that, we were appearing on talk shows, giving interviews. The workload only increased when dad had a new movie to push.”

He swallows. “The show fizzled out, but he kept Brooke and I working as much as he could. Since we were underage, he acted as our manager and took all of the money. It wasn’t an issue until I wanted to buy a car and he refused. I found out how much money I’d been paid, and I asked him why I couldn’t find someone else to manage my finances.”

Zander swallows and stares at his hands. “He flat out refused, but he started to get more aggressive and more violent from that point on. I think he knew I was getting older and could challenge him physically, so he did everything he could to make sure I knew I had no means to live or support myself without him.”

He carries on in a monotone. “I kept it up for years. Working my ass off and never seeing a cent. By the time I was eighteen, I was hooked on cocaine, couldn’t remember my lines, kept getting into fights, and was losing more and more jobs. Mike was into drugs too, but he was more interested in Brooke than anything else.”

He shakes his head. “I swear that’s why he hung around me so much. He was totally in love with her. Right from when we were kids. She liked him too. But she knew dad would never allow it, so she just hung out with the both of us, and they’d sneak off together.”

I finish my wine, and Zander refills it with barely a pause. “Then he noticed a bruise on Brooke, and he went ape shit. He knew dad smacked me around, and his father was the same, so he let that fly. But Brooke was a different story. When she begged him not to say anything, he started getting wasted and talking to the media. But he didn’t want to land Brooke in it, so most of it was about me.”

I keep drinking my wine, staying silent as he pours himself more wine. “I think you can see where this is going. You saw the video. You know he threatened him, and then Mike died.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t watch it. I couldn’t. A friend told me what was on it.”

He flinches and slowly shakes his head. “I was a stupid kid. Mike dying changed everything.”

Pain laces his features as he looks at the fire. “I never really knew how much power my father held until that night. When Brooke came to wake me up the next morning and tell me, I knew our father was involved. I’d forgotten about the camera until my father told me to clean up before the police arrived to talk to me.”

He drains the last of his wine. “I was in shock. I just did what he said, got rid of the coke we had, the whiskey bottle, and I hid the camera. It wasn’t until after a stint in rehab that I remembered. I kept it in my room for a few months, then I watched it, and I knew Mike’s death wasn’t an accident.”

He slumps back into the sofa, cushions. “I got into drugs even harder after that. I played right into his hands. When I asked him about that night after a few drinks, he threw me in rehab for thirty days as a warning to stay quiet.”

Zander glances at me. “I bounced in and out of rehab for a few years, trying to figure out what to do. He never let either of us move out. We both tried a couple of times, but he said the only way he’d allow me to leave was if we got married. So, three months after Mike died, Brooke got engaged to a guy she’d only known a few weeks. But they married out of town, so it gave me the opportunity I needed to go hide the camera and the film.”

He makes a circular motion with his hands. “Fast forward a year. I hear about a Hollywood exec being taken down for sex with minors, and I get the name of the agent who arrested him and spend some time checking her out to make sure she isn’t in my father’s back pocket.”

I move my glass to take a sip and realize I’ve drunk it all. I’m so entranced by his story, that I don’t think I’ve moved since he started talking.

He sighs. “When I was sure I could trust her, I called from a payphone and told her about the tape. She agreed to meet me.”

A smile plays at his lips. “That’s about when I met you.”

I frown at him. “I don’t understand. I especially don’t understand why you were naked.”

He winces. “Yeah. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Neither was the fight I got into the night before. I was hungover and beat up when I showed up at Lake Tranquillity at the cabin Mike and I spent a summer at.”

My eyebrows rise. “That explains your injuries but not your lack of clothes.”

He reaches behind him and leans forward to drain the last of the wine into my glass.

He leaves the wine bottle sitting on the floor and picks up where he let off. “The agent wasn’t waiting even though I got there a few minutes late. I got paranoid she’d tipped off my father. Then when I checked my phone, Brooke said the fight had been reported, and dad had contacted the police to say I’d gone off my meds and was a danger to myself. Turns out that was why the FBI agent didn’t come. She was still trying to see if I was legit.”

I keep drinking, not sure if I can stomach hearing this without at least a bottle of wine to numb the effect.

“When I heard screaming, I knew there must be a house nearby. I knew the Rangers could use dogs to track my scent, so I ditched my clothes, buried my wallet, and swam across, hoping to find clothing and maybe a ride out of town. The rest, you know.”

I finally move my legs and groan at the stiffness from sitting still for so long. “But why be so worried about the fingerprints?

He gets up to place more wood on the fire. “I figured that at some point the cops might show and dust for prints. That would have alerted the FBI, and I still didn’t know if I could trust them. I was going to keep running.”

I lie my head back on the sofa, the room spinning as much as my thoughts.

I angle my neck so I can look at him. He looks exhausted. Like all the life has been sucked out of him. Which, in essence, it has.

But one thing doesn’t make sense. “But you decided to go back?”

His eyes lock on to mine. “Yeah. I had another plan if this didn’t work out.”

My breathing stills as he looks at me with such malice, I think my insides turn to liquid. “You were going to shoot him?”

He nods slowly. “I figured I had nothing to lose.”

Fire starts to heat my veins as he shifts closer to me. “Until I met you, I didn’t.”

My chest starts to rise and fall way too fast, and I’m getting lightheaded. “I’m so sorry your relationship with your father is so messed up.”

He shakes his head, forehead creasing as he sighs deeply. “A relationship isn’t what he wants. He wants to control me. Always has.”

I lean my head back and cover a yawn. “Sorry. This is…it’s been a crazy day.”

He flinches. “I’m sorry to put all this on you at once.”

I edge away from him, not sure if I’m leaving because I’m exhausted or leaving because I’m about to kiss him. “No. It’s fine. I’m glad you told me. I just need to process it all,” I say.

I kiss him quickly, not lingering, but not wanting him to feel I’m dismissing his pain either.

I look over my shoulder at him, and my throat thickens as I consider how utterly tragic this all is. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

I want to help him, but I’m too exhausted to take any more drama.

The irony isn’t lost on me as I slip under the sheets and fall into a fractured sleep.

***

I wake to golden hues of a sunrise poking through my drapes. Still not sure I’m ready to forgive him for what he’s put me through, I climb out of bed, stretching and yawning as I head into the bathroom.

I’m still half-convinced this is some horrific dream and that I’m going to wake up in my crummy apartment.

But it’s not a dream. He didn’t die. He faked it. Just like his relationship with Chrissy was fake.

I stumble into the bathroom and stand under the shower until I feel a little less like a scrubbed-out pot.

I’m still yawning when I walk into the living room. Zander isn’t there, but coffee has been made and he’s left me a mug and a note saying my breakfast is in the microwave and that he’s fishing.

I fill my cup, ignore the food he made and head down towards the lake with my coffee in my hand.

The sunlight is reflecting off the water, creating a stunning sunrise. With the trees and the snow-tipped mountains as a backdrop, it’s still, serene and peaceful after a week of chaos.

Zander is sitting at the end of the jetty, only wearing his jeans, his back to me. I stare at him, drinking my coffee until my feet seem to move towards them of their own accord.

When I’m at the halfway point, he turns and looks over his shoulder. “Morning.”

I lean my weight on one foot as I peer down at him. “I’m still pissed off with you.”

He squints up at me, and slowly gets to his feet, leaving the fishing rod. “I know. I was a jackass.”

I sip my coffee as he jams his hands into his jean pockets. “So, you quit acting for good then?”

I blow out a sigh and look out over the water. “I don’t know.”

Zander clears his throat. “There are other places in the world to make movies if you did want to keep acting.”

I sip my coffee and frown at him. “Like where?”

He shifts a little closer. “India. Nigeria. New Zealand.”

I swallow, not sure if I’m even capable of deciding what to eat for lunch let alone whether I want to keep acting. “Why am I here, Zander? You could have told me everything over the phone.”

He doesn’t even blink. “Because I’m in love with you. And that’s not something I was going to tell you over the phone.”

I’m so stunned I don’t know what to say. All the lies, all the pain erupts, and I shove him before I think about it.

Shock registers on his face before he tumbles backward off the jetty. I drop my coffee, hand flying to my mouth at what I’ve done.

Zander’s splashing about, yelling about his jeans dragging him under and I act without thinking.

I tug the robe off my body and dive under the water. Cold water surges around my body as I swim for the mass of foaming water as Zander keeps hollering.

In a panic fueled moment I manage to reach him ready to try to swim him back to shore, but he’s grinning at me.

Annoyance spills through me as he grabs me and pulls me against him. I struggle against him but he grips tighter, so I splash him and push away from him. “Let me go. This is not a joke.”

He shakes the water off his face and with a frown, lets me go, ducks under the water and disappears.

A few bubbles reach the surface before his head pokes through the top and he lifts his arm so I can see he’s removed his jeans.

He tosses them away before he swims closer to me. “Now we’re both naked.”

I frown at him and try to swim away from him, but he grabs me around the waist and pulls me closer. I wriggle in his grip. “Let me go, I thought you were in trouble.”

His smile disappears. “I should have known you’d jump in and save me.”

Despite the cool water, heat starts to travel through my body. “You were faking.”

He manages to look contrite. “This time I was.”

His arms tighten around me as he keeps treading water. “Not the first time.”

“How do I know you aren’t acting now?”

He releases a sigh and presses his forehead to mine. “You know I’m not. I think you are the only person who does know the difference.”

Even though my body is reacting to his, I’m not about to let my heart get stomped on again so I push away from him.

In a ridiculous turn of events I’m now naked and so is he. I growl at him. “You did this on purpose. Now I can’t get out.”

He raises a shoulder. “You can get out. I’m not stopping you.”

I scowl across the water at him. He seems to understand I’m not playing around and starts to swim away. “I’ll get your robe.”

True to his word he swims back to the shore and scrambles up the bank. I groan as he climbs out looking like someone carved him out of marble.

Water trails down his muscles as he makes his way to the jetty and locates my robe.

He jumps down the bank and stands with it, staring at me as I swim towards him. “Turn around. Hold it out.”

It’s a ridiculous thing to demand, but he does it, leaving me swimming towards his bare ass.

I control the inappropriate thoughts long enough to reach the water's edge and grab the robe from his outstretched fingers.

He looks over his shoulder as I hastily pull it over my body. “Can I turn around now?”

I shrug and stomp past him, pleased I’m able to make it up without losing the dramatic effect by slipping like last time.

About half-way to the house, I start to lose a little steam as I remember how willing he was to jump in and save me too.

I reach the house and find Zander hot on my heels. Still naked, and seemingly unbothered about it.

I avert my eyes, still annoyed with him, and go into the kitchen to see if the food he cooked is still edible.

He breezes past me leaving water on the floor as he heads into his bedroom. I open the microwave and pull out the plate of French toast and bacon.

I’m so hungry, I just pick up the bacon and eat it with my fingers. I sit at the counter as Zander comes in, dressed in another pair of jeans.

He looks at me as I eat. “I don’t think I’ve seen this side of you.”

I frown at him as I eat the food. I hate to admit it, but it’s extremely good. “What side?”

He grabs a cup and fills it with coffee. “Stubborn. Pissed off.”

I shrug. “I’m very stubborn and right now I’m very pissed off.”

His face contorts like he’s struggling not to smile. Or laugh. “Fuck off,” I growl.

He does laugh then. “I can’t. I’m not allowed to leave the area.”

I narrow my eyes and wave my fork at him. “Because you lied about being dead.”

His lip curls. “It’s like you said, ‘what’s the point of life if we’re too afraid to live it?’ If I have to die to do that, I will.”

I gape at him. “You’re quoting me to excuse lying?”

He works his jaw as he folds his arms over his bare chest. “Extreme circumstances call for extreme measures.”

When I just frown at him, he gives me a wry smile. “I think Mark would agree.”

I pull a face. “What?”

He dips his chin, amusement playing on his face. “Don’t worry; the charges won’t stick.”

I stare at him. “What did you do?”

He grins. “I didn’t do anything. But it looks like Mark stole a car and broke into a store and stole some clothes and shit.”

I scowl at him but my heart’s not really in it. “You framed him?”

He shrugs. “I just suggested Agent Greyson dig around a little. Turns out the DEA has a file on him.”

I must look appalled because a smile flickers at his mouth. “You’re actually worried about him, aren’t you?”

I scowl at him. “Are you making fun of me?”

He shakes his head. “Ah, there’s the nice girl I met.”

I arch an eyebrow as my heart starts to speed. “I’m not that nice, not always,” I murmur.

His lips quirk as he steps around the counter and pulls me to my feet. “Yeah, you are. You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

Shivers run down my spine as he grips me by the back of the neck. “And that’s one of the reasons why I love you.”

I’m sure I catch the slightest amount of moisture in his eyes, I stop trying to fight the desire burning in me and pull him closer.

“Damn it. If you hurt me again, I will maim you. I can be bad when I need to be.”

His eyes narrow, and his voice comes out husky. “Why don’t you show me?”

I’m out of protests and out of excuses to hold him at bay, so I kiss him hard and let his tongue convince the final part of me that doubts him.

He lifts me up, so I’m sitting on the breakfast bar. I wrap my legs around him and let him tug off my robe.

He kisses my neck, then works his way down to my breasts. His finger traces the swell of my breast until he’s stroking my nipple.

His hands slide down lower until his fingers slide between my legs. Not to be outdone, I slide my hand inside his jeans and start to rub his cock until he’s panting in my ear.

With a grunt, he pulls back so he can step out of his jeans. He’s buck naked and hard as a rock when he lifts me up so he can carry me to the bedroom.

We smash into the wall, knocking a picture off as he carries me down the hall.

He backs up, mouth pressed against mine as he navigates the distance to the bed.

We fall backward, limbs tangled, and both gasping for breath as he slides inside me.

With every thrust, I feel ripples of pleasure surging through my body. I arch my back, digging my nails into his ass as he kisses me again.

He pulls out and starts to kiss my breasts, pausing to lick my nipples before he kisses my stomach and opens my legs.

He shifts to press kisses to my inner thighs, making me writhe in anticipation. With a devilish grin, he puts his mouth on me and uses his tongue until I’m gripping his head, and waves of pleasure wash through my entire body.

I’m moaning and almost babbling as he brings me to an incredible orgasm. I’m so horny; I don’t bother to ask, just scramble up onto my knees and command him to flip over.

I bend over and put his cock in my mouth, sliding my tongue over his tip, sucking and groaning along with him until he’s demanding I get on top of him.

I swing a leg over and slide him inside me again. He curses and runs his hands over my stomach and breasts.

He rubs my nipples as another climax starts to build as I ride him. I rock my hips back and forth until I come so hard, stars dart in front of my eyes.

He pushes me off him and climbs on top of me, so he’s looking in my eyes. His face is flushed, and he looks wild. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers.

I wrap my legs around him and kiss him. “You won’t.”

He shakes his head. “I want a contract.”

I snort and grab the back of his neck. “Aren’t you sick of contracts?”

Zander’s lips twitch. “A little. But how else will I know you’ll stick around unless you’re are legally obliged to?”

I laugh and pull him inside me again, and he moans as I flick my tongue over his earlobe. “Keep me satisfied, and that won’t be an issue.”

He starts to speed up, making me whimper and make animalistic growls as I come again. “Say you’ll marry me, and I’ll give you whatever you want,” he pants.

I run my hands down the muscle of his back as a ragged whisper escapes. “Anything?”

His reply is a throaty growl. “Yeah.”

I grip his head and make sure he’s looking at me. “You already gave me what I wanted. You’re alive.”

A contented grin grows on his face before his mouth claims mine, and he kisses me with enough intensity to assure me that keeping me satisfied is never going to be an issue.

I don’t know where we’ll end up, but I know that there is nothing fake about how I feel about him.

It’s raw, primal, honest, and real.

If my Grandma were still alive, she would have been the first person to congratulate us.

She would have admired Zander Cole for his bravery, his resilience, and his courage and she would have chuckled at his flagrant disregard for authority.

Whether we make movies together or not, I owe it to myself to make damn sure we get the real-life happy ending we both deserve.

***

Thanks so much for choosing to read Zander and Mia’s steamy love story.

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Lexi ❤

Excerpt from One Wild Weekend With Luther

One Wild Weekend with Luther

#6 One Wild Weekend with Series

© Lexi Hart 2019

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Lexi Hart is the pen name of a crazy Kiwi romance junkie who prefers to live in the heads of her characters than her own.

If you want to escape reality with me and love fast burn romances with a splattering of suspense, The One Wild Weekend Series is sure to satisfy you.

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