Ashton Scott - Page 9

“But what’s different, because you’ve been doing this for fourteen years now. And fuck knows, you’ve been dealing with asshole directors and fame-hungry bitches for a long time. What’s happened this time to make you want to quit?” He’s actually been acting for a lot longer than fourteen years, but that’s how long he’s been doing it professionally.

“What’s the point to it all, Ashton? Why the fuck do I do what I do? I’m different this time…. It’s me. If I have no point—no reason—for putting up with all this shit, then I have no reason to continue.”

My head jerks up and I push up off the bed. “Have you booked a flight?” I’m fucking concerned about him now; more concerned than I’ve ever been and the only thing I want to focus on is getting him home. The rest can be dealt with once I have him here safe.

“Yeah, I leave tonight, just before midnight.”

Thank fuck.

“I’ll pick you up when you get in. And you’ll stay with me.”

“Always trying to save me,” he murmurs and I feel his attention slipping away. “You’re a good friend.”

“Are you using at the moment?” I bite out, unable to stop myself anymore.

He sighs. “Nothing more than the occasional joint.” A brief pause before he continues, “I’ll see you soon, my friend.”

And then he’s gone.

I don’t waste a minute. Dialling a number I know off by heart, I wait impatiently for the call to be answered.

“Fuck, Ashton, do you know what time it is over here?” Bruce Nielson’s groggy voice filters through the phone.

“Yes, I know what time it is over there,” I snap. “Do you know that your client’s mental state is fucked up at the moment?” If he doesn’t come back with the right answer, I swear to God I’ll find ways to hurt him. Jack’s manager has never impressed me; tonight my tolerance for him has hit rock bottom.

“What? So he punched his director and then went and got himself into a brawl with his ex’s new boyfriend? It isn’t like that shit hasn’t happened before where Jack’s concerned.” This must have just happened because it’s news to me.

“You’re a piece of shit, Bruce, and I’m going to make sure Jack finally sees that. And then I’m going to ensure you don’t work another day in Hollywood.”

I rip the phone away from my ear and stab at it to end the call before quickly looking up another number. She answers much faster than Bruce and is awake just as I knew she would be.

“Ashton, to what do I owe this pleasure?” she purrs down the line.

My dick stirs at the sound of that voice. Josephine Thorne and I go way back and I briefly imagine the lips that voice escapes from. Those lips have given

me many hours of bliss. At one moment in my life, I thought they’d bring me decades of happiness, but she walked away before we could go down that path. We remained friends, though, and she’s never let me down.

“Jack’s not doing well. He’s on a flight home tonight, your time, but I’m concerned about what could happen in the hours between now and then.”

Josephine loves Jack just as much as she loves me. Hell, the three of us have a past that is entwined together in ways three people shouldn’t be. She was the reason for one of his famous breakdowns after she walked away from him, too.

She doesn’t hesitate. “I can go over to his place now. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

I exhale the breath I’ve been holding. “Thank you.”

“Ashton, I’ve got this. You don’t need to worry. I’ll make sure he makes that flight. You just get our boy better, okay? God knows I’ve been trying.”

I frown. “What do you mean?” It’s been a good six months since I’ve spoken to Josephine.

“He started going downhill about four months ago. It was hardly noticeable at first, but I know his signs as intimately as I know his body. I’ve spent so much time with him over the past few months trying to help him, but nothing has gotten through. I really think he needs you. You’re the only one who he’s ever really listened to.”

I grit my teeth. I’m an asshole. My best friend has been suffering for months, and I’ve been too damn busy to notice. “Thanks, Josephine. I’ll make sure he gets the help he needs.”

I can’t get off the phone fast enough. The urge to inflict damage on everything in this room explodes through me, and I punch the wall.

Repeatedly.

I lash out, trying to rid myself of the anger coursing through my veins.

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