Fast Lane | ✔️

29

Ch29

Natalie gathered all her strength and threw her body over the glossy images, desperately reaching for the gun. The wooden handle felt cool against her skin as she grasped it tightly between her hands.

Several alarmed gasps escaped from the shocked crowd as she struggled to steady herself against the overwhelming blackness that threatened to consume her. She was aware of every eye watching her and several voices speaking at once, but what were they saying? Why was it so difficult to piece together the syllables? Were they . . . laughing at her?

Natalie gripped the revolver tightly and held it out front, her arms stretched before her. Her heavy-lidded eyes blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of the mangled forms dancing before her. Her father and Ashton . . . her sister . . . stood nearby, their wide eyes staring back in horror. The beautiful supermodel and the boy with the curly brown hair cautiously watching her every move. But their names . . . they were escaping her. Why couldn't she remember their names? And Brooks—her Brooks—with some blonde she knew she'd seen before, clinging protectively to his side. Why was he always with someone else? Why was he never with her? She glanced at him now—was that pity she saw flashing in his sapphire eyes?

He's such a pig! They're all pigs!

"Natalie," she heard her father say, the sound of his voice ringing loudly in her ears. It felt as if a freight train were suddenly closing in around her. She didn't want him to talk to her, not ever again. Not after what he'd done to her poor mother. The betrayal. How would she ever get passed it? Had her mother known of his indiscretions? Had she been able to put it behind her before she had died? "Put the gun down," she heard him say.

"No," she screamed back. "How could you? How could you cheat on my mother?"

"Natalie, it's not that simple . . ." he said, his voice trailing off in hesitation. "Things were different back then. Your mother and I, we-"

"Stop, I don't want to hear it!" she screamed incredulously, shaking her head. "I'm done with you. You can't control me anymore!"

Even though her eyes failed to focus, Natalie sensed him slowly moving closer. "I'm not trying to control you. I'm trying to help you. Now I need you to help me," he answered, but his words seemed forced . . . untrue. "Please, Natalie, hand me the gun." Gradually, he reached out his hand, but she ignored his request.

"You do try to control me, you always have. But I no longer need you, Father." And with that realization, everything became clear and she knew what she needed to do. A sudden vitality took over, and all the pent-up anxiety finally washed away. The contorted faces began to come together, the noises no longer muffled.

Her dark eyes deliberately made their way to each frightened face standing inside the gloomy room. They were paying attention to her now, weren't they? Finally, all eyes were on her! And all it had taken was a gun to get them to listen. "You ruined my career," she began slowly, carefully enunciating each word. "All I ever wanted was to be an actress, and finally I was. I was forced to grow up in a home with a glamorous mother and distinguished family friends, each one more beautiful than the last. I watched them move in and out of our lives, all those famous faces. The parties, the award shows . . . But I lived in their shadows. Do you know how much I admired them? How much I wanted to be just like them? Paradise Cove was a dream-come-true for me, but it wasn't enough for you, was it? You, with all your greedy plans and ideas!" she spat, taking turns locking eyes with every single person in attendance. The thrill of finally having center stage raced through her veins, and she took her time, meticulously pointing the weapon at each individual as she spoke. The sensation left her lightheaded with power.