Fast Lane | ✔️

21

Ch21

Claire walked barefoot on the white sands of the beach, her anxiety mounting with every step as she made her way toward Miller. She could see him in the distance, perched on a large rock near the edge of the shore, the waves of the Pacific splashing up around him. The puzzle pieces were starting to fit together. For the past several months, Miller had been so busy and stressed, she assumed it was because of his work on Runaway. Now she knew she'd been naive. Was he even working on the screenplay all that time, or had he been busy with other interests?

There was no way he could deny the presence of another woman in life - if you could even call her a woman! She was just a girl, she couldn't have been more than fifteen. There had to be another expanation, but the proof she needed was right there in her hands. It was definitely Miller on the pages of the magazine, his arms wrapped protectively around a curly-haired female. You could clearly see the need on his face, it was evident by the way he looked at her. And this girl had feelings for him, too, there was an intimacy visible in both of their eyes. Claire couldn't quite make out the context of their expressions, but there was something solid there between the two of them.

As disturbing as the photographs were to look at, she was most unsettled by the final images, pictures of the girl with her eyes closed, her lifeless body being carried away on a stretcher. The article had stated the girl was dead, the victim of a drug overdose. Could it be true? And what did Miller know about it, what did he know about her? She'd read in the pages of the tabloid that the girl, who went by the name of Marie, was homeless, that she'd lived on the streets of Hollywood for more than a year. What was Miller doing mixed up in that crowd? If he did care for this Marie, and the pictures proved he obviously did, it was no wonder he'd been so upset the past several days. In all the years she had known him, she'd never seen him so despondent.

Claire had no idea what was going on but she was determined to find out. Miller was not going anywhere until he told her the truth. The whole truth. He owed that to her . . . and their baby.

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

"Dammit, Ashton - pick up the phone," Juliana screamed into the mouthpiece before tossing her cell to the passenger seat in a fit of panic.

She'd been trying to get a hold of her friend since she hung up with Vivian, anxious to inform her about the magazine before she found out from someone else.

"How could this have happened?" she cried out, furiously wiping at her tear-soaked cheeks. "Ashton's gonna freak!" Her friend was adamant about not letting their affair leak out into the public, and now this! There was no way in hell she would ever consider a relationship after she saw the intrusive pictures someone had taken. Juliana held onto the hope, especially after their night spent together, that Ashton might be open to discussing the possibilities, but that dream had been squashed the minute the tabloid made a spectacle of them.

But how? Who had taken the pictures? How had they known?

Whoever had done it had obviously followed them home. The pervert had quietly spied on them through the window as they . . . Oh, God - it was too much to think about! The very idea that someone had purposely violated their privacy made Juliana's skin crawl. She was no stranger to having her life on display for the world to see, but there had to be a line drawn somewhere! They deserved to have a secluded retreat where they could live without the worry of publicity. Why is it that just because a person was famous they lost their right to some secrecy?

Juliana pulled into the winding drive of Ashton's Hombly Hill's residence and parked next to a brand new, shiny black pick-up truck sitting near the entrance.