The Adventures of James Dean.

22.

I heard a heated conversation in the hallway as I woke up. Pulling on a fresh shirt, and a pair of ripped jeans, I headed out there. I saw Rex walking away, fists clenched at his sides, and Kennedy standing there watching him go. She turned around, and I was stunned to see tears cascading down her cheeks. How long had this been going on? Where had Aldous and Gregor been? Why hadn't anybody stepped in?

Fucking Rex!

'Kennedy?'

'Don't' she urged me angrily, and descended the stairs, following her friend. Checking my watch, I only had twenty minutes before the car arrived to take us to the airport for our two hour flight to London. But I followed her, in spite of every warning in my head and when my feet hit the bottom step I saw her standing by the door, crying her heart out. And I wanted to kill the bastard. Seeing red, I stormed through the hallway, eyes flitting through the rooms until I found Rex. He sat at the breakfast bar, throwing back a glass of orange juice as if it were vodka. If I had to guess, I'd probably say he wished it was.

'Why the fuck is she crying?' I half screamed at him. From nowhere, Aldous appeared and slung his arm around my shoulder.

'I've called for a car and paid for his return flights. He'll be gone in five minutes. Don't worry my friend.'

Rex raised himself from the bar and confronted me. 'You, you think you're gonna win this because you're rich and you got her pregnant?'

Before I knew it, his fist had shot out and slammed into my jaw. I felt the clack as his hand impacted with bone. I hadn't been in a fight since high school. And it showed. I may have been in good shape, but the guy knew his strength. As I attempted to strike back, I felt a fist connect with my stomach and I knew that blow would knock me down even before it happened.

I did not expect today to start like this.

I'd have preferred a croissant and a coffee.

Hitting the tiled floor, I vaguely heard the booming bass of Al's voice, and then Gregor. Before my head cracked against the hard tiled floor, it was my Italian friend that caught me in time and dragged me to standing.

Disorientated and a drifting in and out of consciousness, I felt him pull me onto the cushioned window seat in the dining room, and I felt nauseous. Man that asshole had hit me hard. I was a lover not a fighter, and I felt like some lame loser being rescued by another man. Oh course Kennedy had seen. I guarantee she saw our little ruckus and now I looked like the suited and booted moron who couldn't fight back against some unemployed artist. As the room came into focus again I was aware of the pain in my gut, and the throbbing of my jaw.

I heard Kennedy shouting and more tears. And then from the corner of my eye I was vaguely aware of Gregor escorting that bastard from the house.

He should never have been here, he didn't belong. He wasn't invited.

'James.' Her voice was soothing, like an angel singing, or some shit like that. Seriously though, if anything could make me feel better. It was her. And man I felt rough. I hoped a pile of aspirin sorted me out because I had a meeting. Today. Rimmel cosmetics wanted Radspace and there was no way I could roll up looking like some hobo, my face covered in bruises and clutching my stomach.

Hell no.

'James.'

She crouched down beside me, red puffy eyes glistening. 'Shit James!' She covered her mouth with her hand and trailed a tentative finger tip across my jaw. Dude that hurt. Searing bolts of pain dotted my vision.

Great. Just fucking great.

'He needs a doctor.' Aldous announced, and I heard him tapping on his iPhone and speaking in Spanish to a doctor, or so I presumed.