Not Expecting to Collide (COMPLETE) - ABP Fanfiction

Chapter 42 - Control

As March faded into April, an idea began to form in the back of Bam's mind. The more he thought about it, the closer it moved into the forefront until it was the only thing he could think about. As much as he didn't want to be in the same room as Myra Lincoln, he knew that he would have to meet with her again. He requested a meeting at her office on a Monday afternoon. He spent the entire weekend steeling his resolve. He was taking the first steps in gaining back control of his own life and going after what he wanted for himself and not anyone else.

~*~

The phone calls continued.  October finally shut the ringer off her phone. She was still too angry to speak to him. The fact that she wouldn't talk to him didn't mean that she didn't ache for him every second of every day. It seemed no matter where she was or what she was doing, there was something that would remind her of Bam in some way. She couldn't get away from the memories of him no matter how hard she tried, nor did she want to. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk to him. It was just that she didn't know what to say to him. And if he wasn't going to tell her the truth, she didn't want to hear anything else he had to say to her.

~*~

"Yes, I think we can make that work for the show, Bam." Myra levelled her gaze at him from behind her desk.

Bam smirked. "I didn't come here to ask your permission Myra. I came here to tell you what I'm doing merely because I'm contractually obligated to do so. Whether it works for the show or not is no longer my concern. I know the cameras will follow me because they can but I'm not willing to dance like a puppet on a string for you anymore."

The smile disappeared from Myra's face. "Bam, I thought we were friends."

Bam smiled sardonically. "No you didn't, Myra. You just thought you could control me the same way the rest of my family has allowed you to control each of them at one time or another."

"You understand that I could talk to the writers and force you to stay here." She said nonchalantly.

"You could try." He nodded. "But here's what you don't understand, Myra." He shrugged. "I've got nothing left to lose." He leaned forward in his chair and laid his hands flat on her desk. "So go ahead Myra, send your film crew, but know this; from here on out what I do is for my benefit, not yours, not your viewers', and when I do it, I won't turn around to make sure it's been caught on film."