Ch20

Brooks picked up the pace, following the winding roads of Malibu with increased motivation. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, relishing in the runner's high that raced through his veins.

Now that he had a plan, there was so much to do! He'd contacted a Realtor earlier that morning, hoping to start house-hunting right away. Other than a few mementos, there was nothing he wanted from his home in Beverly Hills. He'd auction off his belongings and donate the proceeds to charity, that was the plan, because there was no way in hell he would be going back there-he'd made up his mind about that. And he needed to get out of Miller and Claire's house immediately. Things had felt uncomfortable since he'd first arrived, and only seemed to be getting worse. The tension there was building, no matter how diligently Claire attempted to make him feel at home. He wasn't sure what was going on between the two of them, but it was obvious they didn't need him around getting in the way.

Whatever it is, I hope they can get past it. There's not two people I know who belong together more than them.

It was a shame there wasn't something more he could do for them after everything they'd done for him, not only in recent days but in the past as well. If anyone ever needed help, Miller and Claire were always the first to volunteer. They'd made their friends their family and it pained Brooks to realize there wasn't something he could pay them back, especially now when they needed help themselves. Moving out was the only way he could make their life easier, so he planned to do it as quickly as possible, even if that meant staying in a hotel until he found a permanent place. He would give them back their privacy and hope and pray they could work through their problems with him out of the picture.

The police had only come up with few clues regarding the break in. They were able to collect some fingerprints, but the evidence didn't match anyone in the criminal database, meaning the intruder-and possible murderer-had no prior record.

It was just his luck! Some crazy person is out there stalking him, broke into his home leaving an assortment of intimate pictures, potentially murdered an old man who was also loitering on his property and the cops had no leads! That meant the sicko was still out there somewhere, doing God knows what. Maybe they were still watching him? Still taking pictures while he was asleep? Which would mean he was putting Miller and Claire at risk, too. If nothing else, he needed to move out so he didn't involve them in this mess. Ashton and Juliana had both offered the use of their homes, as well, but he'd declined. There was no way he would be able to forgive himself if anything happened to his friends.

Brooks rounded the final curve, jogging up the deep driveway toward the beach house. A refreshing wave of ocean air washed over him, cooling his moistened skin after the long run. Malibu was nice. The smell of salt water, the sound of the surf as it rolled over the shore. He could get used to a place like this. Sure, it was a bit out of the way, but that didn't bother him. Peace and quiet would do him good, it was just what he needed for a fresh start. Maybe he would look at real estate nearby? It might be a nice change to get out of the hustle and bustle of the city.

He slowed his pace and began to stretch his muscles just as an older Volvo pulled into the drive. The door opened and Anna emerged from the driver's seat, causing a rush of pleasure to pass over him. "Hey there," he called out, happy to have the opportunity to see her again. "Claire wasn't kidding when she said you'd be here a lot." He gave her a smile and headed toward her, noticing the look of discontent covering her face. "Anna-are you okay?"

Anna stopped abruptly and regarded him with an expression he was unable to read. Judging from the way she didn't return his smile, he sensed something was wrong. She was uncomfortable, he could see it in her body language, and it wasn't because she was feeling shy in his presence. Something was bothering her.

"I'm here to see Claire. Is he here?" Anna asked, continuing to watch him cautiously. Or was that suspicion in her eyes?

Brooks' forehead creased in confusion. Was she upset with him? Had he done something wrong? Every interaction they'd had together had gone smoothly, even if she'd been a little bashful. In fact, the last time he'd seen her they'd gotten along extremely well, talking and laughing as if they'd known each other forever. He thought they had bonded a little as he helped her sort through Claire's scripts, but she seemed different now, as though that afternoon had never happened.

"She was here when I left for my jog. She didn't say she was going anywhere."

"Do you mind if I go in?" Anna asked, a look of determination on her face.

"Of course not," he answered quickly, anxious to end up on her good side. "Let me get the door for you." He ushered her to the entrance and opened the door, allowing her in first. "Are you alright? You seem a bit edgy," he asked again, hoping her standoffish attitude had nothing to do with him.

Anna glanced at him as she made her way through the threshold. "I'm not sure. I just-I really need to speak with Claire."

They stood in uncomfortable silence, facing one another in the foyer. He wanted her to tell him what was wrong, desperate to find out if he'd somehow screwed up, but asking her again would only aggravate her. Defeated, he gave up. "I'll find her for you."

"I'm right here," Claire announced. They turned to find her watching them, wearing a soft pink dress that softly caressed her calves. She looked exhausted, even more so than before-every day she managed to look a little worse. Anna turned back toward him and their eyes met, her concern over Claire's appearance evident.

"Claire!" Anna exclaimed shifting her gaze back and rushing to her friend's side. "Are you alright?"

Claire raised a shaky hand to her head and brushed away long wisps of hair that had escaped from her pony-tail. "I'm just tired is all. Look-I'm really not in the mood for company right now-"

"I'm sorry, I'll make this quick," Anna interrupted, her hand reaching toward Claire in comfort. "I take it you've seen the magazine?"

Bewilderment covered Claire's pale features and she shook her head. "What magazine?"

"You mean, you haven't seen?"

"No, Anna," Claire answered, frustration creeping into her tone. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Maybe we should sit," Anna began, throwing Brooks another look.

He sensed whatever Anna was about to say was not good and he jumped to assist her. "Why don't you two have a seat and I'll get you both a drink?" he suggested.

"Brooks—this concerns you, too." Anna's face looked pained as she addressed him. "How about we all sit down?"

Quietly, Claire led them into the crisp blue and white living room decorated with hints of yellow. It was comfortable and classic with a slight nautical touch, the perfect room to compliment life on the coast. They sank into the lavish cushions of the couch and waited for Anna to speak.

"Claire, I have something to show you. It's the latest edition of the magazine Celebrity," Anna began, her face a mask of embarrassment. "I know it's just a gossip tabloid, but there are pictures-"

The look on Claire's face was undeniable. She wasn't interested in flipping through the pages of the weekly paper, but Brooks couldn't help but wonder what all the stress was about, or how it involved him.

"Anna, these types of magazines really aren't my thing, you know that . . ." her voice trailed off, clearly not interested in what her friend had to say.

Anna cleared her throat before continuing. It was obvious she was uncomfortable but for some reason felt the need to share what had been published. "Claire, there are pictures of you-"

"That's nothing new! You've been around for a while now; you know I end up in the tabloids on a regular basis! If I'm not involved in a cat fight with Taylor Swift then I'm having an affair with Bigfoot! I really can't do this right now." Claire's voice broke off and her shoulders slumped uncharacteristically. Brooks could hardly look at her without feeling pangs of remorse. The tension building between her and Miller and the fact that she hadn't been feeling well were starting to take their toll on his friend. It wasn't like Claire to snap, and it was clear Anna's feelings were hurt, but she plunged forward, determined to share what was on her mind.

"I'm sorry, but I need you to see this."

She took the magazine that was rolled up in her hands and spread it out in front of her. On the front cover was a large photo of Ashton and Juliana, entwined in a passionate embrace. Brooks felt his heart drop. He looked up at Claire and saw her staring open-mouthed at the picture, clearly disoriented by what the image suggested. "I don't understand . . ." she said, shaking her head.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Ashton and Juliana? Together? "This is such bullshit!" he exploded. "Who would do this to them? And why? I'm with them all the time. I think I would know if they were together."

Wouldn't I?

He studied the cover carefully. They say pictures speak a thousand words—and this image said plenty—but that doesn't mean they're always true. Normally it was easy to debunk a fake photo; the curved edges or shifted light were tell-tale signs a photo had been manipulated. The image that graced the cover of the tabloid appeared authentic.

"There's more . . ." Anna continued, flipping open the magazine. She quickly tuned the pages and landed on more pictures of Ashton and Juliana in various stages of undress. He recognized their surroundings, they were most definitely in Ashton's home—he'd been there hundreds of times.

"I don't believe this . . ." he said, shaking his head. As the pages flipped further, they came upon pictures of himself, positioned in the backseat of his Porsche with Jonathon Walters' teenage daughter—including the picture that had been left on the wall of his bedroom!

Anna and Claire's eyes locked on his and Brooks felt his face blanch. Whoever had been taking photographs of him sold them to the magazine! "Fuck!" he shouted, causing the girls to jump. Frustrated, he pushed his hands through his damp hair. "This is the picture that was left on my bedroom wall during the break-in!"

Claire's eyes widened with shock. "Are you certain?"

"I'm positive! I was only with this girl once and it's obvious we were not alone. When I find this bastard I'm gonna kick his-"

"It's not over yet," Anna said softly. "Claire, the rest are of you and Miller . . . and someone else."

Claire's eyebrows kneaded together. "I want to see them."

Anna continued to turn the pages until she landed on a photo of Miller, his arms folded around a very young girl. On no, his worst fears were being confirmed-Miller was seeing someone else! But this wasn't some sexy Hollywood starlet, this was a girl, and from the looks of it a very young girl. "Do you recognize her?" he asked, looking up at Claire.

Claire looked dazed. She shook her head, but didn't say a word. Anna turned another page and next up was an image of Claire with an extremely distraught expression covering her face. "This was taken just the other day, right outside the house," Claire remarked in a monotone voice as she studied the image closely. "I remember getting out of the car to check my bumper. I hit the curb as I was backing out." Her face was devoid of emotion, as if she'd just viewed photos of virtual strangers . . . people who meant nothing to her.

"Claire, are you alright?" Brooks asked, but she ignored his question.

"Is there anymore?" Claire demanded, staring at Anna. Her eyes were hard and flat, he'd never seen her that way before.

"There's one more page," Anna whispered. She closed her eyes when she found the final images and Brooks stared in disbelief. Just when he thought the moment couldn't get any worse, things spiraled out of control. There were pictures of the young girl, the girl who had been hugging Miller in the previous photos, but she looked different. Her face was pale and her curly hair matted. Her expression was slack and lifeless, it was obvious she was no longer alive.

What the fuck is going on?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Customers at various stores around town couldn't keep their dirty little hands off of the latest copy of Celebrity. Things were turning out even better than The Young Woman had hoped. Even she had not been able to predict the unexpected turn of events that had taken place, only adding to the sweetness of her revenge.

Especially that little bit about the dead teenager-what a shock that had been! And pure luck she'd been right there when the stupid girl had been found. Luck was on The Young Woman's side, proving once and for she was doing the right thing. What kind of fool died from a drug overdose, anyway? It was just as well. Nature's little way of taking out the trash of society. No one would miss her, except maybe Miller.

Poor Miller! What she would give to see the expression on his pathetic face when he saw the pictures-and there was no doubt in her mind that he would be seeing them. Everyone in the country-no, the world-would have the opportunity to get an eye-full soon enough. She'd been in touch with the magazine earlier that day and they were already receiving calls to appear on celebrity gossip shows and pod-casts. It couldn't be more perfect!

The most brilliant end to their miserable careers. All I have to do now is sit back and watch their worlds crumble. And I'll enjoy it, too. Just as they enjoyed ruining my life.

What's going on with Brianna Walters? Find out in Chapter 21!

Hello and thank you for reading Fast Lane! If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving a vote/comment.

As many of you know, my story Strawberry Wine was chosen as the winner of The Write Affair writing contest and will be published in both print and eBook! I couldn't have done this without you, but I need your support now more than ever. Check out my website DarlyJamison.com, or look me up on Twitter or Facebook. Thank YOU for helping make this dream a reality! 

(Chapter 20 approx. 2, 470 words)