Chapter 2

Bailey

I started every day with yoga and stretching.

If I didn’t, my hip would stiffen up and I’d wind up in more pain than was bearable.

I sank onto the floor and spread my legs, leaning forward as far as I could reach without screaming in agony, and slowly breathed out.

It had become second nature to stretch, sometimes three or four times a day, to relax my muscles.

I closed my eyes and pressed forward until the burn exceeded my pain threshold and then I eased back.

Some days it felt like my entire life revolved around pain. Stiffness. Physical limitations.

I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me, but it did.

No matter how much therapy I did or how much I meditated or how grateful I was supposed to be to be alive, I hated everything about my reality.

I’d lost almost everything on that night three years ago, including my life.

Everyone told me I was lucky, but it was hard to view it from that perspective.

Was it lucky that I was now scarred and crippled?

Would anyone who’d had and lost a career like mine feel lucky to open their eyes every day, knowing there would be pain or at the very least discomfort? Knowing they had nothing to do every day but hide and cope with reality?

Okay, maybe I was being a little melodramatic today, but my life was nothing like it had been before the accident.

And even after three years, I still resented the hell out of it.

I resented the pain, the misery, and the loss of everything I’d known before it happened.

More than anything else, I resented Dirk fucking Lane.

No, I more than resented him; I hated him.

I didn’t wish death on anyone, but I wouldn’t have shed a tear if he’d died that night. But no, it was Hans who died in the accident and me who was left with permanent scars and a limp.

I hated that son of a bitch with everything inside of me.

The full bottle of water he’d hurled at Hans had rendered my friend and driver unconscious and he’d flipped the limo. I had no memories of any of it, but I’d woken up in the hospital and told I’d shattered my right hip and pelvis.

Everything after that was a blur.

More surgeries than I could count, a month in the hospital, and three months in a rehab facility had only been the beginning. I’d had to sell the beautiful house I loved because it had stairs, and I could no longer easily navigate them. I’d lost my career because who wanted to see a woman with a bad limp on the screen? Not to mention the scars all over the lower half of my body from both the accident and all the surgeries.

I’d even lost most of my friends because people were uncomfortable being around me.

The only one who’d really been there for me had been Manny, along with his wife Lucia. We’d done a movie together, and though we hadn’t been best friends or anything, he’d been the one person who’d realized I was never going to be the same. He’d come to visit me in rehab and for all intents and purposes, he’d never left. Lucia had given birth to their youngest child during my recovery, and they’d made me her godmother.

Sometimes, Manny, Lucia and the kids, along with my gaming friends, were the only thing keeping me going.

Sage had been my best friend, and though she hadn’t abandoned me, she’d lost her patience with my struggles. She thought I needed to get back out there and fight for everything I’d lost; I didn’t agree.

There was no going back to that life.

I couldn’t imagine going back to acting and letting the whole world see my disability. The scars. The pain that haunted me day and night.

No, my days in the spotlight were gone forever.

Now I was trying to forge a new path writing screenplays and a book.

Thank goodness I’d been good with money.

I’d sold the house and bought the quaint little place in the Hollywood Hills just off of Laurel Canyon Boulevard. It was all one level, extremely private, and had both a pool and a hot tub. Swimming was the one exercise that wasn’t overly painful, and the hot tub was great for my sore muscles on days when nothing else helped. I missed being near the beach, but I enjoyed the privacy.

Well, I didn’t enjoy it so much as it afforded me the ability to hide from the world. I spent so much time in pain, it was hard to make plans or be around people. Once a month, Manny would come pick me up and force me to spend a day with the family. Sunday dinner, although it didn’t always happen on a Sunday. I enjoyed being with the kids because I was just Auntie Bailey to them. They didn’t see or care about my scars, they didn’t notice my limp, and they loved me unconditionally.

I was over at their house today, hanging out in the pool with Manny and the kids. Lucia had taken two-year-old Louisa to put her down for a nap and we were playing Marco Polo with the older kids.

“Auntie Bailey, are you coming to my birthday at Casa del Papaya?” Almost eight-year-old Valentina asked, referring to a popular Mexican restaurant in Sherman Oaks.

“You’re going to a Mexican restaurant when you have a mom who makes better Mexican food than anyone in the city?” I demanded, laughing.

She rolled her eyes. “Mama makes it too spicy. I like their queso better.”

“And the refried beans,” five-year-old Manny, Jr. added.

“Won’t all your friends be there?” I asked. “You don’t want boring Auntie Bailey there.”

“You’re not boring!” Manny, Jr. launched himself at me, sending us both underwater. We came up sputtering and laughing, and I held him with one arm while I wiped my eyes with the other.

“Be gentle with auntie,” Manny said quietly. “You know her hip hurts.”

“Not in the water!” Manny, Jr. protested, turning big dark eyes to me. “That’s what you said, right?”

“It’s okay, buddy. You’re fine.” I ruffled his hair.

“You have to come,” Valentina said solemnly. “You’re family.”

My heart constricted painfully.

Family .

The one thing fame and fortune couldn’t buy.

My mother had died in childbirth and my father took off for greener pastures when I was fourteen.

His mother had raised me, and she’d passed away when I was twenty.

I had no idea where my father was, and didn’t care, so I’d been on my own for a long time.

Until Manny and Lucia took me under their wing.

Manny and I had become friends during the filming of the movie we’d done together. It had been my first major role, the one for which I’d won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actress, and I’d been nervous. He’d been great about making me feel comfortable, especially during our love scene, and we’d remained friends after it was over. Things had kicked up a notch after my accident, he and Lucia somehow sensing I needed them.

I’d never been suicidal, but my will to live had dwindled after I got out of rehab.

There just hadn’t seemed to be a point.

Manny and Lucia had been there to force me to not give up, to keep pushing, healing, and trying to get better. He’d even started gaming to keep me engaged in something other than self-pity.

The only thing they hadn’t managed to convince me of was to go back to work.

I just couldn’t do it.

“Auntie?” Valentina was watching me intently.

“Of course, I’ll be there,” I said softly.

Even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.

@Phantom: Hey, guys. Are we setting up a raid on Sunday afternoon?

@Thunderbolt: I can’t. I’m leaving on a work trip so I’ll be on a plane until about eight o’clock East Coast time.

@Manny: It’s my daughter’s birthday, and we’re having a party, so I’m out until at least six or seven in the evening.

@Macy: I’ll be around if you want to do something?

@CrusadingAHole: I’m out too. Have a work thing I can’t miss.

I saw the messages and wrinkled my nose.

I would have preferred to stay home and game, but I’d promised Valentina I would be there.

@Empress: I’m out too. I’ll be at said child’s birthday party.

@Phantom: I guess Macy and I can work on rebuilding the well since we got it back.

@Macy: Sure. Two o’clock EST?

@Phantom: I’ll be here.

I scowled, irritated that they were going to play without me.

Which was ridiculous.

Phantom and I played by ourselves all the time.

He and Macy could play without me.

It wasn’t like he was my boyfriend or anything.

Though he was probably the closest I came to having one.

That was so ridiculous I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

I was an idiot sometimes.

But I sent Phantom a private message anyway.

@Empress: I wish I could play on Sunday, but I got roped into this birthday party. Manny and his wife are my closest friends, so I can’t even cancel. His daughter would be so upset.

@Phantom: Hey, family first. Always. I have a huge family and we get together as often as possible, even with six of us kids living all over the US.

@Empress: You’re one of six?! How did I not know that?

@Phantom: I dunno. I have four brothers and one sister.

@Empress: Where do you fall in the line-up?

@Phantom: I’m child number three. I have two older brothers, two younger brothers, and my sister is child number five.

@Empress: Wow. I’m an only child. I can’t even imagine that many siblings.

@Phantom: It’s absolute chaos when we’re all in the same room together.

@Empress: So, does it make you want a lot of kids because it’s what you know or less because of the chaos?

@Phantom: Honestly? Somewhere in the middle. I think six is a lot. I don’t know how my mom did it. Especially with all of us playing sports and stuff. Three might be a better number. Assuming I ever find the right woman.

@Empress: How are you going to find the right woman when all you do is play video games?

@Phantom: Look who’s talking!

@Empress: Okay. You got me. My last relationship ended three years ago, and it was so ugly, I’ve stayed away from dating since then. I just don’t have it in me to trust someone again. Not after what he did. What’s your excuse?

I didn’t know why I was pouring out my heart like this, but for some reason it was easy to talk to him. Easier than most of my real-life friends. And Phantom felt as real to me as anyone I knew personally.

@Phantom: Did he cheat?

@Empress: No.

@Phantom: Did he put his hands on you?!

Even in a chat message, he sounded indignant, and I couldn’t help but smile.

@Empress: He did. But don’t worry, I kicked his ass to the curb. It came out of nowhere. He’d never done anything like that and then, during an argument… everything went sideways.

What an understatement.

@Phantom: I’m so sorry. Tell me his name and I’ll go kick his ass. Seriously. I live in L.A. and you’re in California too, so I’ll find him and beat the hell out of him just because I can. And FYI, I’m six-five.

Why did that have me grinning like an idiot?

When was the last time someone offered to stick up for me?

@Empress: You’re sweet. A little bit of a Neanderthal maybe, but in this context, I really like it.

@Phantom: Good to know you’re down with some Neanderthal behavior. Does that spill over to other aspects of your relationships?

@Empress: If you’re talking about sex, hell yeah. Who doesn’t want a guy to be an animal in the bedroom? With limits, of course, but bring it on.

@Phantom: You know you’re killing me, right?

@Empress: That’s my prerogative as an empress.

@Phantom: LOL But seriously, I’m sorry that happened to you. I’d never lay my hands on a woman. Not in anger.

@Empress: I’ve never understood it. If you’re unhappy, leave. Violence isn’t necessary.

@Phantom: That’s always been my mantra as well.

@Empress: Thank you for saying that. I needed to hear it from someone who isn’t me.

Where had a sweet six-foot-five-inch gamer been when I’d been dating?

Would movie-star-Bailey have even noticed him had we met in real life?

Sadly, I’d never gone for nice guys and now no one was interested in me.

Life was full of irony.