“She should go to the hospital.” Masters insists, not for the first time. “She’s having some kind of psychological episode. She’s too fragile to go home alone.”
“I agree,” Harper chimes in, folding her arms across her chest.
“Then I’ll take her home with me,” Grayson says flatly.
“Grayson—” I start.
“I’m not locking her up again.” Grayson is on his feet, his hand wrapped around Helena’s arm to keep her upright. She’s swaying, but standing. Barely. “Last time, they just pumped her full of drugs and kept her sedated until she finally worked up enough strength to check herself out. It’s no wonder that didn’t help her. It’s no wonder she’s right back where she started.”
“Grayson…” I trail off. “Look at her.”
Helena has stopped crying. Her empty eyes are fixed on Grayson’s face with a reverence that worries me.
“She needs help. More help than any of us know how to give her.” I’m starting to regret my decision to call him. “You’re too close to this situation — you aren’t thinking clearly. If I’d known this was your solution, I would’ve called the paramedics straightaway. I only wanted you to help me get her out of here without too much fanfare, get her to someone who can actually help her…”
His eyes, so green it almost hurts to look into them, hold mine. His jaw clenches so tight, he can barely get the words out. “Don’t you understand? I did this to her.I did this.It’s my responsibility to fix it.”
“Grayson,” I gasp softly. “That’s crazy.”
“She’s right, man,” Ryder says, nodding in agreement. “You’ve got things twisted.”
“She was fine, when I first met her. Normal. But then, when we got involved… I broke things off before they could get serious… and she couldn’t handle it. She got violent on set. Throwing things, trashing her dressing room, fighting with Sloan every step of the way, showing up drunk for line-readings. She lost the part in the movie because she couldn’t work with me anymore…” Grayson’s face darkens. “It was my fault. It’s my fault she’s like this. It’s my job to make it right.”
I stare at him, and it’s like I’m seeing him for the first time. For months, I’ve been caught up in thinking that I fell for this man because of his looks and his charm and his undeniable sex appeal. But in this moment, I realize I was entirely wrong. I fell for Grayson Dunn because he’sme. The boy with the whole world at his feet, who can’t see it because he’s so consumed by the cloud of self-doubt swirling directly overhead. Thinking he’s toxic to anyone who comes near.
My broken soul mirrors his. A kindred mess in the making. We are nothing more than two drowning fools who found each other in the depths — clutching desperately for survival and unintentionally winding up even deeper beneath the surface. Each dragging the other down until water filled both our lungs and we sank like stones into the abyss.
Not love. Not fate.
Recognition.
Understanding jolts through me. Suddenly, I know how to handle this — how to handle him. It’s like talking to myself in the mirror.
I step closer to him and wait until his eyes meet mine. Even from five feet away, I can see the shadow of guilt and self-loathing swallowing him up inside. I can’t believe I never noticed it before.
“Grayson. Think about it. Shechoseto get involved with you. Shechoseto start a relationship with a co-star. She knew it might turn out poorly. She knew what she was getting into.” I take another step. “You didn’t take advantage of her. You didn’t force her to quit the movie. Again — that was her choice. There’s no way you could’ve known she’d…” I trail off vaguely, not wanting to say what we’re all thinking.
No way you could’ve known she’d go crazy.
“There are normal responses when a messy romantic entanglement ends — drink a bottle of wine, eat a gallon of ice cream, have a one-night stand. Everyone has their own way of dealing with heartbreak. But this…” I glance at Helena. Her eyes stare straight through me. “Thisis not normal. Things like this don’t just happen without a predisposition. You didn’t do this to her, Grayson. Whatever Helena is going through right now… my guess is, it’s been coming on for a long time. Brewing below the surface. Waiting for the right set of circumstances to bring it to the light.” I take another step, close my hand over his, and slowly unwind his fingers from her arm. “You didn’t do this. Do you hear me? It’s not your fault.”
He’s a statue.
“Grayson — look at me.”
He does and, in that moment, he’s like a little boy who’s broken his favorite toy. Sad and small and full of regret.
I squeeze his hand. “It’s not your fault.”
His jaw clenches even tighter. He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even acknowledge I’ve spoken, but he does step aside to let me take his place supporting Helena.
I glance at the team of silent bodyguards.
“I’m going to need one of you to carry her out, one of you to make sure we’ve got a clear path out of here, and someone else to pull whatever car you’re driving into the side alley. We’ll walk her through the kitchen exits, get her into the backseat, and take her to a private doctor. Somewhere discreet, that’s accustomed to treating high profile patients.”
The three of them nod in tandem. I heave in a breath of relief as I pass Helena over to the nearest guard. She’s a rag doll in his arms.
“Harper, I need you to talk to the manager. Make sure it’s okay for us to use the kitchen exit.”