Page 80 of Undone By The Mountain Daddies

She kisses me on the lips. “Thank you for being my number one supporter.”

“Rachel, I’m your number one everything. Not just when it comes to you writing a book.”

Her smile fades a little. “Thanks. But I’ve been dreaming of becoming an author ever since I was a little girl.”

And I’ve been dreaming of a simple, carefree life ever since my parents abandoned me and each other, for money and fame.

“God,” exclaims Rachel, looking back out to the ocean. “Imagine being able to afford one of those things.”

I glance at the yacht.

“I sailed the Bahamas with my parents on one of those things. It was actually twice that size.”

“Stop! You’re making me jealous.”

“Not much to be jealous about. It was the most miserable summer of my life.”

Rachel doesn’t look at me with pity. She never does when I talk about how dreadful my teenage years were, growing up with rags-to-riches parents.

Her fascination isn’t really with the yacht. It’s with me.

As if the most interesting part about me is my backstory.

“I cannot deal with him any longer.”

No doubt she’s talking about me.

It’s late at night, and I’m adding logs to the fire to keep the cabin warm. Sienna’s talking on the phone, her voice loud enough to wake up China.

I creep down the hallway and position myself outside of her door. The ranting continues.

“Like I said earlier, they’ll have to find somebody else to take over my role in the sequel. It’s mortifying… I don’t care how good my ass looks… I’m not curtsying in front of the cameras and telling everyone how much I loved foursomes… to hell with sexual liberation and empowering the oppressed. Let them be oppressed… Nope. You’ll have to drag me by my hair if you want me back… Yeah, he’s an ass, and I’m sick of him hitting me where it hurts, but I’d rather be in the same room as him than be hounded by the press.”

Hitting her where it hurts? Goddamn.

I lean into the door, my ear pressed to the wood. I begin to feel the guilt rise in my chest.

“I don’t even know if that’s what I want anymore, Jules… Yeah. No. Fuck. I don’t know… I’m so used to being around cameras that I don’t know who I am without being watched.”

I straighten up, this last sentence catching me off guard.

What a peculiar thing to say.

“Okay,” sighs Sienna. “I’ll speak to you later.”

I head back into the main room to finish stoking the fire. I’m all out of logs. I decide to go outside to grab more wood since sleeping doesn’t seem to be an option. I’ve been wide awake all night, and that was before Sienna started ranting on the phone to her Hollywood friend. For once, they were actually discussing something other than clothes and fucking green juice. I imagined that’s as far as their conversations usually went.

“I cannot deal with him any longer.”

Ouch. I carry that comment with me out into the night as I head into the woods to the pile of firewood.

I shine my flashlight on an abandoned axe. Looks like someone’s been chopping up logs, getting a certain somebody out of their system. I was the same when I first moved up here. Chopping wood is quite therapeutic, especially when you have a wild imagination and can pretend you’re cutting off the heads of people who have wronged you.

I throw logs into the basket, focusing on the fresh smell of pine. I couldn’t get over the smell. Still can’t years later. I’d take this over that artificial junk they sell in the department stores. Rachel got an advance on her first book and treated herself to some Chanel shit that cost almost as much as our rent. That should’ve been the first warning sign.

I load up the basket and head back around to the front of the cabin. That’s when I catch movement in the corner of my eye.

I step closer. I swear on my life, I just heard humming.