Page 1 of Hate Wrecked

MUSCLE MEMORY

RILEY

“Fuck,are you Desi Monroe’s daughter?”

The man with the sweaty brow and roving eyes finally approaches me after we’ve landed. I’ve been dreading this moment the entire flight to the Kona International Airport in Hawaii. Still, I smile when he arrives at my seat. Other passengers shoot the middle-aged man dirty looks as they maneuver past him in the aisle, luggage shuffled above their heads or brushing against him as they leave our cramped airplane. He doesn’t seem to care.

All he seems to care about is eyeing my tits.

I put on my best actress smile and nod in reply as I shake his hand. “Yes. That’s me. Riley Williams. I’m here for a movie.” I stand, ducking to make sure I don’t hit my head. The man’s hand is warm and sweaty, and I resist the urge to wipe my palm on my Levis when I pull my hand away.

“Williams!” the man exclaims, snapping his fingers. “I said your mom’s name because you look just like her! I loved her inTease. But your dad is my hero. I watchHard to Killevery Christmas with my wife. Well, ex-wife. Ididwatch it every Christmas.” The man bows his head but recovers quickly, eyes once again all over me.

I smile again, watching passengers leave, hoping the man will follow my eyes and move so we can exit, too. But his attention lies elsewhere. I clear my throat. “Yeah, they’re great. I have to check in with them both now that I’ve landed. So overprotective,” I offer, shrugging, looking toward the plane exit again.

The man claps his hands, coming out of his trance. “Oh yeah, yeah! I won’t keep you from them! God, they’re like real people, huh?”

I grip my carry-on tightly and nod as the man leaves, accidentally bumping into a woman. While he apologizes to her, I speed walk down the aisle, hoping to avoid any unwanted attention. After exiting the jet bridge, I make my way toward luggage claim and put my headphones on. I press play on my Walkman, hoping it will be the distraction I need.

It was inevitable—the reminders. From protector, to a shell of herself, that’s what my mother has become. A figment of my imagination. My mind wanders to the past and the famous Desi Monroe’s voice as I navigate the airport signs, guiding me to my destination.

It was a mistake to take this role, playing a younger version of my mother’s character in a movie. But I agreed to it because it’ll be good for my career, good for my future. My past is already scarred; there’s no changing that. But this,thisI can control.

And I was assured—multiple times—that my mother would be off-island and back in the States by the time I arrived to film my scenes. Two planes in the sky, possibly passing in the night—that’s what my mother and I are. I feel a twinge of guilt over the joy I feel from that thought, but I push it away.

After retrieving my suitcase from the baggage carousel, I walk toward the exit doors where I see various people holding up signs to welcome their parties. I was informed that someone would pick me up from the airport to take me to the set. As I approach the group, I am taken aback by the sight of Rowan Finn holding up a sign with my name on it…

Rowan Finn with my name in his hands and a scowl on his face.

I walk toward him, crossing my arms. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

He holds the sign back up and reaches for my luggage, but I pull it out of his reach.

“Picking you up. What does it look like?” After I stare at him for a moment, unmoving, he sighs. “Are you going to give me the bag?”

I take a step back, holding up a hand. “Perhaps I should rephrase that. Why areyouhere?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?”

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” I ask again. The last time I saw this man, he worked for my ex-stepfather. He was heartbroken, barely able to look at me, his voice strained. Kind of like now. Except it isn’t heartbreak in his eyes—it’s resentment. Rightfully earned.

“I work for your mother now,” Rowan says, straightening.

I roll the suitcase behind me, the anger that always sits right below the surface, threatening to rise. “Are you being serious right now?”

“Yes.”

“Youwork for my mother.”

Rowan clenches his jaw. “Yes.”

My heart beats fast, thundering in my ears. “Is she here? I was told she wouldn’t be on island when I arrived,” I say through my teeth.

He glances at the ceiling, probably praying for patience. “No, she isn’t here. But she asked me to look after you on the shoot.”

I calm, but only a little. “I didn’t ask her to do that.”

“I’m aware. She’s aware.”

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