Billionaire Badboy (8 page)

The night before she left she stopped by my place to say
goodbye, but I wasn’t home. He had made sure of that.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Teddy

It was as if the projector turned off. I still felt as
though I was sitting alone in a giant movie theatre, but the screen had turned
black, and I was now sitting in complete darkness. I stared in the direction I
had seen the flashes, just waiting for the next one to appear, but nothing
happened.

What could this mean? Was that the end of my flashes? It was
another year and a half until I saw Ashley again, but I did see her. If these
memories that were haunting me in my final moments were meant to show me the
parts of my life that I had taken for granted, the parts I shared with her,
then they couldn’t be over. There was more.

It was funny, really. I’m not going to lie: watching the
flashes was painful, but only because I knew I’d never get a chance to make
things right. It was torture to see myself pull her in and then push her away
over and over again, and I knew there were plenty more instances when that
tug-of-war game occurred. A sane man would beg for it to be over, to not have
to spend his last few seconds of consciousness being reminded of his failures. But
not me. I wasn’t in denial. I knew my life was ending, and I knew I would never
see her again. Because of that, I would endure every painful memory over and
over again for the rest of eternity if it meant I was able to feel as though
she was in the same room.

Wow, I was a sappy dead man.

Or maybe just an honest one?

But as I pleaded with my subconscious for more memories, for
at least one more that I could treasure, I began to hear voices. They were
quiet at first, but became louder and more earnest as the tones cleared.

“Clear!”

The room shook.

“Again… charging… clear!”

Another earthquake.

“I have a pulse!”

The room started to suction around me. You know in those
sci-fi movies when they jump into light speed or hyper drive, and the stars
stretch out around them? That’s what this seemed like. I felt as though I was
being torn from my space and time. Does that make any sense?

Soon the streaks of light were gone and I was thrown into
another sort of blackness. It was a reddish blackness, actually. You know when
you close your eyes in the daytime and you can still see the light through your
eyelids? That’s the reddish blackness I’m talking about, as opposed to the
complete void I experienced when my flashes turned off.

“Mr. Stoneguard, can you hear me?”

Shit.

Was I back? Did my flashes end because they were able to
bring me back to life? I tried to open my eyes, but nothing happened. I tried
to will my body to react, but it refused.

“Mr. Stoneguard? If you can hear me, blink your eyes.”

I wanted to yell at her: lady, whoever you are, assume that
if I could I would’ve already done that!

“Mr. Stoneguard?”

Wait… that voice, it sounded familiar, comforting. I knew
that lady. At least I thought I did. Why couldn’t I place her? From where did I
know that voice? Think Teddy, think.

I tried to focus all my energy into blinking my eyes so I
could see the face of the woman I could swear I knew, but as I did, I began to
feel. I felt pain. My entire body felt the accident. My bones felt crushed, my
muscles raw, my throat hot and sore. My lungs were on fire and my heart felt as
though it was pierced. I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough. I needed to escape
from the pain. I thought I had been done with that part of the dying process. I
just couldn’t…

“Heart rate is dropping again.”

“Forty… thirty-two…”

“We’re losing him!”

“Twenty… sixteen…”

I was back in the room, seated in front of the movie screen.
I heard the projector warm back up before shooting a picture onto the white
canvas in front of me. Five… four… three… two… one…

“You sound like that baby otter in the video where they
put him in the water for the first time.”

“Excuse me?”

“See, now your voice sounds normal. Why is your laugh so
weird?”

“I… I… can’t believe you’re making fun of the way I
laugh.”

The flashes were back. They had started over again, but this
time I was speeding through them, as if I was trying to fast forward so I could
get back to the place I left off.

“Go ahead, call the cops. Tell them I’ll wait.”

“You don’t think I’d do it.”

“I know you wouldn’t do it.”

Five… four… three… two… one…

“Well maybe if you stopped twisting every little thing I
do into a headline…”

“Think of me as your teacher. The more I tell the world
of your immature ways, the faster you’re forced to grow up.”

“And the more you exaggerate them?”

“The better you’ll do at learning what it is to be an
adult.”

I tried to slow them down, to live each moment again, but I
didn’t have control.

“Son, you know better than to fraternize with the likes
of her.”

“I wasn’t, Sir, believe me. She just showed up and
ambushed me.”

“Will there be another article in the paper tomorrow?”

“Most likely.”

“Then you didn’t take care of her like you should have
done.”

“She doesn’t need…”

“Do not step on my words, boy. You take care of her, or I
will.”

Five… four… three… two… one…

“I’m going to the library to study.”

“Mmm, no you’re not.”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“Oh, I’m sure of that.”

“What are you doing?”

“Getting you drunk.”

I didn’t know what was worse: feeling the immense amount of
physical pain from slamming into a tree at I’m sure no less than eighty miles
an hour, or watching your life flash before you for a second time, but this
time not being able to live in the moment? Unlike the time before, I was
separate from the memories. I was completely an onlooker. I couldn’t feel her
there. It was absolute torture.

“Kiss me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Then kiss me, you coward.”

Five… four… three… two… one…

“Stop this now.”

“Stop what?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Ashley. You’ve, for some reason,
put a bull’s eye on my back and you can’t stop throwing your knives.”

If it was possible, they seemed to be speeding at me even
faster.

“If I ask you to leave me alone…”

“I can’t do that.”

“And if I promise it’ll mean we keep meeting like this?”

“Then I look forward to all the times I’ll be pinned up
against the wall by you.”

Five… four… three… two… one…

“Ashley, I’ve been watching you in your window for
twenty-seven minutes. I know you’re in there.”

Oh good, this one again. At least it was flashing by at
triple the speed.

“Tuesday at six?”

“Tuesday at six it is.”

Five… four… three… two… one…

“Are you saying you don’t know your father?”

“I didn’t say that. I know exactly who my father is.”

“Care to enlighten us?”

“This is one of those questions that I would like to save
for another time.”

“You said I could ask you anything.”

“Ashley, please. Not this.”

I was almost there, nearing the end of the string of
memories. I was anxious, actually nervous, to see what my mind would choose to
stir up next. The speed of the memories resumed to a normal pace, and I watched
our last parting the way I did before I was brought back to consciousness.

“I like Italian.”

“What?”

“For dinner. I like Italian.”

“Are you saying you’ll go out with me?”

“I am.”

“How about next Tuesday at six?”

“Next Tuesday at six is perfect.”

Five… four… three… two… one…

“Teddy?”

“Ashley… you’re… you’re back.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

HUNTINGTON HERALD

Back to the Bad Boy

By Ashley Leigh

Well, my loyal readers, you guessed it: I’m back! A year
and a half has come and gone, I’ve travelled to ten different countries, met
worlds of different people, and I’ve gotten to see and write about things I
never thought possible. It’s truly been magnificent.

I received every single one of your letters letting me
know what Teddy has been up to while in my absence. I particularly enjoyed
learning that he threw himself a parade. What was that about? And please, I’d
love to know who took part in such a wild experience. There were dancing
monkeys? Were they real monkeys or just random people dressed as monkeys?

And hand gliding off the cliffs? That boy really does
have a death wish, doesn’t he?

But now I’m back! I’m ready to pick up where you all left
off, and that starts with a beach party!

Sources close to our billionaire say the party got a
little wild, even for this rowdy group. Around midnight on Saturday night, the
police showed up on the scene responding to a noise complaint. The partygoers
refused to quiet down, which resulted in an altercation between two of the
young men and three of the officers. The group was then taken down to the
precinct where a handful of them spent the night in the drunk tank, while the
two that assaulted the police officers were handcuffed and are now being
charged with a Class C Felony. So, yes, the party got a little out of hand.

So which of these partiers was our Teddy? The answer,
which may surprise you, is none. Teddy managed to slip away earlier in the
night with an unnamed lady friend. The two were spotted in a “compromising
position” about a hundred yards away from the bonfire. Sources also claim that
the two fell asleep on the beach, only to be awoken by a flock of seagulls the
following morning. They snuck away, seemingly unnoticed, but little did they
know: we’re always watching.

So who is our mystery lady? If you have any helpful tips,
ideas, or scoops, write the newspaper! I’d love to know your thoughts!

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Teddy

Five… four… three… two… one…

“Teddy?”

“Ashley… you’re… you’re back.”

Yes, I was shocked to see her. It’s not like I forgot about
her, but after a year and a half with absolutely no contact, I started to
believe I’d never see her again. I moved on with my life… or at least I thought
I did.

But seeing her there, on that beach… well, had I been a
smarter man at twenty-four, it would have been eye opening. And it was, at
least for a time. My only regret was that I didn’t know then how to fight for
what I wanted. Or maybe it was that deep down I didn’t think I deserved it.

Maybe I didn’t.

“I am.”

“What?”

“Back.”

“Right.”

“So…”

“When?”

“This morning.”

I didn’t stand. I didn’t introduce her to my friends. I just
sat there, staring at her. Her hair had grown out a little, framing her face
and resting on her shoulders. There was a slight wave to it, which was only accentuated
by the summer breeze. She was wearing a navy blue, polka dotted swimsuit, with
a white sarong tied high around her waist. She was carrying white flip-flops in
one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.

“Did you know I’d be down here?”

My voice was quiet, unsure. I was still stunned by her, and
unable to shake the yearning I felt in my chest.

“I didn’t. I was just going for a walk.”

She seemed to have the same problem I did. Our eyes were
locked and the tone of our voices matched. Everyone else had disappeared, and
we were alone on the beach.

Until we weren’t…

“Dude, are you going to introduce us?”

I shook from our stare. “Um, sorry. Everybody, this is
Ashley. Ashley, this is… well, everybody.”

One by one, they went around the circle, introducing
themselves: the girls commenting on her attire, the boys giving their drunken
compliments. Two of the guys made a place for her around the fire.

“Care to join us?”

“Sure.”

“No.” I jumped up to my feet. I didn’t want her there, with
them. I saw the way they looked at her, and I knew those guys too well. They
treated women the exact way I did, the way my father did. But I couldn’t let
that happen, not with Ashley. I couldn’t before, and I couldn’t now. There was
something about her… that strange draw… I couldn’t just feed her to them. I
wanted her for myself, but much more of her than I could grasp. It had been too
long since I’d seen her. I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to find out all the
things I had wanted to find out a year and a half earlier. I wanted that date. “I
was just leaving.”

“Dude, no you weren’t. We just got here.”

“Yes, I was.” I narrowed my eyes, hoping he’d get the
picture. She was mine.

“Right, you were.” My say still had some clout. “Sorry.”

“Ashley, walk with me?”

She slowly blinked her eyes at me, smiled, and nodded. I
found my way out of the circle, grabbed my blanket, said my goodbyes, and
started down the beach with the girl I thought had gotten away. But I was
tongue-tied. I had no idea how to start the conversation.

“Let me hold that for you.” I slid the wine from her
fingers.

“Thanks.”

“Planning on drinking alone?”

“I was.”

“That’s kind of pathetic.” I shouldn’t have said that. Teddy
the imbecile, even two years later.

“And here I thought this was going to be a nice evening
where I didn’t get made fun of.” She giggled as she shook her head at me.

“Well, you obviously didn’t think you were hanging out with
me, then.” That was a pathetic sort of save.

We walked in silence for a few steps. I wanted to hold her
hand. Is that weird? It was so elementary, but the idea of slipping my fingers
into hers excited me. But I was too nervous, too shy, to try it.

“I tried to say goodbye.” She finally broke the silence.

“I know.”

“You knew?”

Damn. I couldn’t very well tell her that I knew my father
had deliberately seen to it that I was not around when she was leaving. I
couldn’t tell her that the reason she was offered a scholarship to study abroad
was completely my father’s doing so that he could keep her away from me. And I
still couldn’t tell her the reason I ran away from her the night in her
apartment.

“Well, I assumed as much.” Another pathetic save. “I figured
you weren’t the type of girl to stand me up on our date after I tried so very
hard to get you to agree to one.”

She sort of chuckled. “I am sorry about that.”

Then more silence.

The sun had set long enough ago that the stars were clearly
shining above us. The sound of the waves crashing at our toes was intoxicating.
It was too romantic, too perfect, and yet, I couldn’t make a move. What the
hell was wrong with me?

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you.” She whispered. Was she
reading my mind? Again? That was creepy.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be.” If
only she knew how big of a deal this really was to me, how much I had thought
about the next time I would see her. “Here.” She took the blanket and the wine
out of my hands and placed them in the sand next to her flip-flops. She then
turned toward me and grabbed my hands, setting them on her hips. She swung her
arms up, resting them on my shoulders, and rose to her toes, bringing her face
right to mine. “What should you do now?”

“Are you telling me what to do again?”

“Not yet. Are you going to make me tell you what to do, or
are you going to do something?” Then she purred, right on my lips.

Sure, I wanted to talk. I wanted to know all those things
about her, and blah blah blah, but seriously? I am a man… there were only so
many times I could try to be a gentleman.

“You have no idea what you’re doing.” I growled before I
aggressively took her lips with mine. It was hard, powerful, but that’s what
she was asking for. I slid my hands down her backside, lifting her thighs onto
my hips. She followed my lead, wrapping her legs around my waist. I then moved
my hands up her back and into her hair as I pushed my tongue deeper into her
mouth. We moaned together as our kiss deepened even further. I wanted her; I
wanted all of her, and my body wasn’t hiding that fact. Our tongues danced
around one another, and I deliberated over which of the one of two ways I could
take this. I could either throw her down onto the sand and have my way with
her, or I could slowly calm myself down and treat her the way I truly did want
to treat her.

The crazy thing was, I don’t know if she wanted to be
treated that way. She was the instigator, both this time and the last. She had
wanted to shut me up. She had wanted me to take advantage of her. And that kind
of energy was hard to turn down. Hell, it’s every man’s dream. Had it not been
for my father’s words still ringing in my ears, I would’ve taken her advances
to the next level. I would’ve given her exactly what she wanted. I would’ve
taken what I wanted.

But I couldn’t hide from him.

“All she needed was a good fuck from me and she would’ve
known her place. She would’ve shut her mouth forever.”

I slowed our kiss, tasting her lips with my mouth, pulling
away from each bite. I moved to her cheek, her jaw, her chin, her throat. She
threw her head back as I moved down to her chest, nibbling at the spot above
her bikini top.

“I’m going to set you down now.” I whispered between nips.

“Down to the ground?” She teased.

“No, down to your feet.”

She cocked her head, trying to figure me out. But I couldn’t
even figure myself out; I doubted she’d have any luck.

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” It was as close to the truth as I could get.

She released her grip on me, found her way to the ground,
and then stepped back. “So I guess I really am a waste of a condom.”

“Ashley, no.” I hated that I had said that to her. What the
hell prompted me to be so callous?

“Listen, I get it. I’m not in your…”

“Don’t finish that sentence. It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?”

“The fact that you think this has anything to do with family
name or wealth…”

“So it’s not.”

“Not at all.” I tried to defend myself.

“Then it’s me. Just plain me. I’m not good enough for you.”

Open mouth: insert both feet.

“Shut the hell up.” In normal conversation, this wouldn’t
have been the direction I would’ve taken this, but something just wasn’t adding
up. Why did she feel the need to play this card? What was so wrong with her
that she felt she needed to throw herself at me?

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“You know what, Teddy?” She bent down to grab her wine, and
then flipped her hair as she took a step away from me.

“No.” I reached out, grabbing the knotted tie of her sarong
and pulling her back. “This is not when you walk away from me. This is when you
talk to me.”

“I have nothing to say to you.” She defiantly sneered at me.

“Put the wine down.”

“No.”

“Put the fucking wine down, Ashley.”

She caught her breath and froze. I was breathing heavy,
hard, and my eyes were glaring. I unwrapped her fingers from the neck of the
wine bottle and dropped it into the sand. I then skimmed my hands up her arms,
over her shoulders, around her neck, and then cradled her cheeks into my palms,
angling her face exactly where I wanted it.

“Listen to me. Do not talk. Listen to me.” I let her steep
in my power for a brief second before I continued. She looked frightened, but
intrigued. She was precisely where I wanted her. “I am so God awfully attracted
to you. You need to know that. I look at you, and my blood burns in me. The
fantasies I had when we first met, when you showed up at my party, even these
last eighteen months… you wouldn’t believe what I have done to you in my
dreams. You haunt me. Your big eyes, your always-blushed cheeks, even that
obnoxious laugh of yours… I can’t get you out of my head. In that sense, I
couldn’t care less what your name is or where you come from. I don’t care what
you’ve done or what you plan to do. I want you. I want all of you.” I looked
away from her at this point. I wasn’t ready to tell her something real. And
yet, I so badly wanted to. “But what’s strangely more overpowering is that I
want to know you. For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I am dying to learn what
you know. I am asking to know who you are. And you throwing yourself at me
doesn’t allow me do that. You’re taking that away from me. So I’m asking you,
honestly, truthfully: do I not deserve to know you? Tell me that now, Ashley. Tell
me I don’t deserve to know you, and I’ll take you right here on this beach. I
will throw you down and have my way with you for as long as I so damn please. I
will live out every single fantasy. But if it’s something else, you need to
tell me. I need to know if I could possibly mess up something great.” And
although I seemed impossibly close to her, I found a way to bring my lips, my
body even closer before I uttered my simple question. “Ashley, do I have the
ability to hurt you?”

Okay, I’m just going to take a brief pause right here. God,
I am good, right? Never in a million years would I have thought a monologue of
such passion, of such intention, could ever escape my lips. But there I was,
holding her face in my hands, and speaking the truth. I mean, bring me my
Oscar: that was brilliant. And the even crazier thing: it was completely from
the heart. I had no idea what I was about to say as I started. The words just
came to me as I looked into her giant, begging eyes.

Now, okay, I could’ve done without the obnoxious laughter
bit, but I think it made it just that much more honest. I mean that’s the true
marker of something greater than lust, right? When you start to crave someone
else’s faults, you’re done. That’s it. Although I barely knew her, although we
had been apart for a year and a half, that was the moment I realized I was in
love. Maybe I refused to admit it to myself, but never once had I felt such
purity when begging someone else for a piece of them. Anything else she had to
tell me could only make me love her more. I knew that then, and she only proved
my suspicion over and over again that early summer night on the beach.

I think you deserve to hear that monologue one more time. Or
at least, I’d like to live through it one more time, and as I am the one dying,
I ask that you indulge me. It might very well have been my proudest moment. I’d
almost say that’s pretty sad, but it wouldn’t be the truth. Shouldn’t your
proudest moment be when you’re telling someone else that you love them? At
least I had that.