To Hell and Back (5 page)

Brielle is different.  She may have been a fan of the show, she may know who I am, but she treats me like a person and not just some television star that is available for public consumption.  We talked, we laughed, we kissed.  No, we
kissed
. It was like something inside of me had always known her and had just been waiting, dormant, for me to find her. Despite what she said tonight, I know she doesn’t really believe I am all Hollywood.  It isn’t just that she’s beautiful,
gorgeous
even; there is a warmth and an innocence about her that I’ve never felt coming from any of the other girls I’ve known.  I may not be able to hang around here tonight and make my case, but I
will
see her again.

Chapter Five

Carson

It’s Friday night and I’m finally headed back to Marshall.  I’ve had early calls all week on set and I’ve been exhausted every single night. Since this film is independent and therefore doesn’t have a huge production budget, quite a few of the stunts we have filmed so far fall on my own shoulders.  Nothing too dangerous, some jumps, rolls, things like that, but between the practice for them and actually filming them I feel like I’ve been at the gym nonstop all week long.

Tuesday night, one of the wardrobe girls followed me back to my trailer with a big bottle of vodka and a sexy smirk on her face.  She’s a pretty girl and we’ve flirted before, but I’m just not interested in anyone who isn’t Brielle.  We talked for a little while, did a shot of vodka together, and she left.  She seemed fine with it and I hoped she wasn’t angry with me.  I knew for sure oushe wasn’t when she came in the next morning wrapped around one of the set guys.  She was even wearing his shirt.

I’ve been thinking all week about how to contact Brielle again.  I could find her number, I’m sure, but I’m afraid that calling her might cause too many problems.  I’ve thought up several scenarios and most of them are ridiculous.  I could search social media sites looking for her or sit outside her house until her dad leaves, but both of those ideas are way too stalker-like to be any good.  She doesn’t really strike me as the facebook type anyway.  I just can’t seem to get her out of my head. Thinking of that kiss gets my dick hard every damn time and I have already jerked off in the shower way too much this week.  It’s not like I only want to fuck her, but damn, my body reacts to hers.  I want to know her, spend time with her, watch her laugh, and, eventually, take her to bed. I’m not sure just how much experience she has, but I get the impression it isn’t much.  I’ll wait as long as it takes.  Ha – I must be going crazy. I’m mentally waiting for her and I’m not sure if I can even get her to talk to me.

I end up deciding my best bet is to hang out at Miller’s Goods over the weekend.  I arrive in town so exhausted that I fall straight into bed at the B&B and sleep though until late Saturday morning.  After eating two of Mrs. H’s banana nut muffins, I head over to Miller’s to check things out.

There is a small area with a couple of tables near the coffee pots and the lottery machine, so I can sit and sip some of the dark, bitter stuff I don’t actually like all that much. I just need to be able to sit here without looking like someone who should be arrested on loitering charges.

By Sunday afternoon, I’ve spent the better part of the weekend waiting, with no sign of her.  I’m not sure how much more coffee I can drink without being so jittery I fall out of my chair.  Edith, who introduced herself to me when I first came in yesterday, has been watching me like a hawk since somewhere around my fifth or sixth trip to the restroom. I nearly wet myself when she stopped me to chat the last time.

“You look an awful lot like that young man from the TV.  That vampire boy.  I don’t understand those vampire lovers, anyway.  My granddaughters and their friends just loved that high school show.  What was it called?  Rocky High or something?  Anyway, I was thinking you look like that boy but then I remembered for sure why I know you.  You’re the one who helped that little Brielle Douglas up off the floor after her fainting spell. I know you are. You took her home. You and that red-haired lady. I watched you all in the parking lot. I was looking out for Brie, you know.  I had to make sure you weren’t trying anything funny with her.  I’m always watching people around here.  You wouldn’t believe what some people get up to.  Anyway…  Brielle and that fainting spell, well, I’ve never seen her do anything like that before. I’m surprised I haven’t, though, all the bruises she comes in with. A broken this or a banged up that. I know it’s that crazy drunk father of hers but she’d never say so. Never says much of anything to anyone, really. She used to be friends with one of my younger granddaughters, but after her mother died she kind of stopped being around people altogether.  Hard thing for a young girl to lose her mom like that. Especially when all you have left is a whiskey loving jack… well, I won’t say it but I’d like to. Anyhow, you’re that young man and I thank you for taking care of her and I’m glad you got her home okay.”

“Well, the pleasure was all mine, Mrs. Miller. I have to…”

“Call me Edith. You know, I have a granddaughter in mind that you might just like to meet.  If you…”

“Uh, no thank you, Edith.  Thanks anyway…” I trail off as I hurry away, afraid I might have my own embarrassing episode here at Miller’s if I don’t get to the restroom in the next few seconds.  I hear a puzzled “hmm” from behind me and I know Edith is wondering just what I’m up to.  If she knew that I’m only hanging around here waiting for a chance to speak with Brielle, she’d probably chase me out with a broom.

It’s starting to snow pretty steadily outside and by about four o’clock I figure she must have stocked up earlier in the week and won’t be coming.  I stand up to throw away my still three-quarters-full coffee cup and hear the bell on the front door jingle as someone comes in.  I’ve gotten so used to the sound that I don’t bother to turn around. I hear Edith say something and it’s followed by a gentle laugh that sends a thrill down my spine.  When I finally look up, Brielle is pulling off a pair of worn men’s gloves and shaking snow out of her hair.  The sight of her in that miserable, good-for-nothing old man’s obvious hand-me-downs infuriates me while the sight of everything else about her sparks my body to life.  Her rich, dark brown hair tumbles halfway down her back and it’s like I’m watching her in slow motion as she shakes the snow from her head.  Her baggy coat covers most of her slim frame, but I know exactly what’s under there.  I’ve thought so much, probably too much, about her full breasts and flat stomach and the shape of her perfect ass, and… Dammit. I’ve held her once, kissed her once, and already she has this hold on me. It’s like some part of me has known her forever. I feel so protective of this perfect, troubled girl.

She hasn’t noticed me yet and I just stand here, not ready to break the spell that her appearance has cast over me. I know there is a very good chance she won’t be happy to see me and I’d like to enjoy these last few moments of anticipation before reality sets in.

I know the instant she sees me, shock wiping away the smile from her face.  Surprise is easier to work with than anger, so I decide to make my move before she can get that far. 

“Brielle, I know you said you didn’t want to see me, but you’re all I’ve thought about.  You said what you had to say and I want to at least try to get you to hear me out before you give up on us for good.”

“Carson, you don’t understand. Our worlds are too different…”

“But I don’t want a world that doesn’t include you. I want to…”

I hear another “Hmm” from Edith and decide this is definitely not the best place to have this conversation. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

“We really shouldn’t. Hank is asleep, but if he wakes up and I’m gone too long, it’s… Well, that’s just not a good idea.”

“I’ll tell you what. We can talk in my car. I’ll warm it up and we can just sit in the parking lot and talk. I won’t keep you very long. Then I’ll drive you down the block and drop you off out of sight of your house. Please, Brielle.”

“You have fifteen minutes.”

I walk her out to the car and open the door for her. I’ve been inside Miller’s for so long that it’s as cold inside the car as it is outside. That is to say, it’s freezing.  I start the engine and turn the seats on high.  I take her hands in mine and rub them.  She starts to pull them away, but I hold tight.  “Brie, I’m just trying to keep you warm.  You’re safe out here with me, I promise.  I would never hurt you.  I’m falling for you harder than I would have thought possible and I can’t stand the thought of not getting at least a chance to have you in my life.”

Knowing I only have a few minutes to convince this amazing woman not to cut me out completely, all my feelings come out in a rush. “I want us to figure this out. I know we haven’t known each other long, we haven’t been together for very many hours, but I also know how I’m already feeling about you. And, until you said all those things on your front porch, I thought you were feeling the same way about me.”

She starts to open her mouth and I can just tell it isn’t good.  “Wait, please.  Let me tell you what I think.  I think you’re scared.  I think you live a life of fear and misery and that you expect something bad to happen in every situation.  I think you find it hard, if not impossible, to trust anyone, and that you haven’t known a lot of real love.  I also think you’re inexperienced in relationships and that the kiss we shared, as amazing as it was, scared the hell out of you.  Go ahead and stop me when I say something that isn’t true, Brie, because if I’m way off base here, I want to know. But, if I’m right, and it’s fear that’s stopping you from exploring this, whatever
this
turns out to be, then let me help you.  Let me be here for you.  I am not all Hollywood and show and money.  I know that you already know that, but I want you to hear me say it.  Your walls are built incredibly high around you, Brie, but I want in.  I will do whatever it takes for you to let me in.  I just need you to give me the chance.”

“Carson, we both know you’re not wrong.  But you can’t possibly understand my life.  My options are limited.  If I don’t get scholarships, go to college and get out of here, well, I can’t think about that. There isn’t much chance of anything good happening for me here.”

“You keep telling me what you have to do, Brie.  You
have
to go to college; you
have
to get out of this town. What do you want, Brie? What does Brielle Violet Douglas want? When you’re lying in bed at night and wishing for something, what do you wish for?”

“Wishes? I stopped wishing a long time ago. I don’t have the luxury of wishes or fantasies. When I go to bed at night I hope Hank is too drunk or too tired to come looking for me. I hope that I can make it through the night, the week, the month without injuries or broken bones. You can’t understand how bad it is by half, Carson, and I’m glad you can’t.  No one should know this life. I care about you already, probably much more than I should.  I’m glad you can dream of the future at night, knowing you’re safe and knowing you have options.  But I can’t dream, Carson, and I’m not safe. As much as I’d like to be with you, I’m scared to death that
anything
outside of the path I’ve put myself on will jeopardize everything.”

“I know it feels that way. Hell,” I say, raking my hand through my hair, “I’m sure it is that way. I know things aren’t good. Some I guessed at and you pretty much just confirmed the rest.  But I still want to know you.  I still want to help you. I want you to know what else is out there for you, and I want to help you find it.  I know that’s a lot of what I want, but I think it’s what you want, too.  Or, at least, what you would want if only you could let yourself see something new.  What would your dreams look like if you felt you
could
dream?  Would you still go to college or would you change your future completely?  If only just for this one moment in time, dream with me.  Tell me about the future you want, not the one you think is already carved in stone.” 

Brie’s face finally softens as she begins to talk.  “When my mom was alive, I used to write.  Poetry and short stories, mostly, but I even started a novel once. I haven’t written anything since just after we found out she was sick, but I’ve always wanted to be a writer.  Honestly, college was never really all that important to me until it became a means of escape. I just want to be free to make my own path. To make things up as I go along. Maybe I’d take a few writing classes at night.  Maybe I’d travel the world.  I just want to have some experiences outside of Marshall, Pennsylvania.  They say write what you know, but I don’t know much.  I’d really like to, though.  I’d like to leave this town and never come back and just experience new things.  I’d like to let all of this go.  I want to know who I really am and not just be someone who hides from her own life.”  Her expression gets serious again as she says, “But, Carson, it’s impossible.  They don’t give you scholarships and grants to go experience life.  They pay for books and housing and an education if you can prove you’re worth it.  So I give school everything I have and pray it’s enough to get me out of here.”

“What if you could have all that?  Everything you really want?  Do you want it badly enough to reach out and take it?  Because I think it’s all possible, and I think I can help.  Just let me in, Brie.  Let me in, please.”

“Carson, I have to go. I have to get home. Give me time to think about this. Here,” she fishes in her purse for a piece of paper and a pen and hands them to me. “Write down your number for me. Just give me a chance to think. Trust is hard for me, Carson, so I need time.  I can’t change everything I’ve worked so hard for on a whim. But I promise you that I will call you.  One way or the other, I’ll call. Now, please take me home.”

I write down the number to my cell and hand it over. She puts it in her purse and gives me a small, sweet smile. “I just got Carson Malone’s phone number,” she says shyly. “I usually don’t think of you that way. I just think of you as my Carson. But this is a thrill for me. I’m kind of a fan, you know.”