“That’s up to you to decide. Maybe you’ll have a chance to avoid a life sentence if you come clean. You sure as hell won’t if we turn over what we have though.”
With that, Makayla turns and delicately steps over an unconscious bodyguard and signals for me to follow. I wait until she’s around the corner and kneel to punch Hubert one more time in the face just for posterity’s sake and then follow her.
Makayla is standing just outside with a strange look on her face. She puffs out a long breath of air and looks to me nervously. “How was that?”
I laugh. “My favorite was the part about how I’d kill him.”
She blushes a little. “Was that too much?”
We start walking toward the elevator. “Not at all. Did I say I wanted to kill him, or did you just read my mind?”
She smirks.
“You don’t really have any evidence against him, do you?”
“No,” she says a little dejectedly. “But maybe if I testified against him the police could get warrants to search his records and things. There could be something there.”
“Yeah. Maybe,” I say. “Or I could give them Liam’s phone. I took his car when I escaped and there was enough evidence in there to send Hubert to prison for a long time.”
We ride the elevator in silence for a few moments before she speaks again. “It still doesn’t feel over.”
I put my arm around her shoulders and pull her to me, hugging her to my chest. “It will be soon. Nothing else is going to happen to you. I’m going to make sure of it.”
I watch Makayla and Kennedy talking on the set between scenes. The set lights are brightest on her and she stands out, shining like something out of a fucking dream. It’s actually hard to look at her for too long because I know how sweet those lips taste and how good she feels against me. I can only handle seeing her without touching her for so long, and I’m getting real close to my limit.
Camillo is pacing around the edge of the set, yelling at someone on the phone in Spanish. I speak a little Spanish, but only catch bits and pieces of the conversation. It sounds like someone isn’t happy with the terms of their contract and they’re not planning to show up. He hangs up the phone and stares at it, fuming. Finally, he raises an arm and manages to grab everyone’s attention with surprising ease.
“No shoot today. Jason quit. We’re going to recast as quickly as we can, but it could be weeks.” He reacts to his own words, as if the full reality is just now setting in on him too. “All our promotions and advertisements will have to be reshot.” Camillo’s voice trails off as he walks toward the exit, one hand on his hip and the other spearing his hair. “Fuck!” he yells, kicking a prop chair over and stepping outside.
There’s a tense silence that follows until Makayla looks at me with something in her eyes I don’t like, at all. She jogs over to me and draws my eyes to her deliciously bouncing tits. If shooting is canceled for today, that means I can get her back to my place even sooner and relieve the unbearable aching in my cock. I haven’t stopped thinking about the way she wanted me to cum inside her two days ago. Fuck. Just thinking about it gives me an instant hard-on. I knew it was beyond crazy to do, but I’ve never been a man of hesitation. I don’t have any doubts about Makayla and if she’s the right woman. I never have. The only thing standing between us has only ever been what’s best for her, and I’ve made the mistake of thinking distance from me would be best too many times. It’s not a mistake I’ll ever make again.
“Jesse,” she says when she comes to a stop in front of me. She’s biting her lip, which is a bad sign. “You could play the part. Just come run through the lines. I know if Camillo sees you act he will be over the moon.”
“No fucking way,” I grunt. I don’t want to admit it, but I actually kind of enjoyed reading through the lines that night Kennedy and Makayla were practicing a few weeks back. I don’t know if I was good at it, but there was something satisfying about it I couldn’t quite put my finger on. If not for the embarrassment, I would have asked to try again. But I don’t plan to let her know that. I’d never live it down. I might as well throw on a tutu and some make-up. Even if I do need something to occupy myself now that my involvement with Makayla is going to put an end to my personal protection career. The agency will find out sooner or later and cut me loose.
“Please?” she asks.
One word and my resolve threatens to shatter. Fuck. Oh shit, she’s doing the pouty thing with her lip, too. None of that bullshit ever worked from other women, but at times I feel like Makayla can control me with the smallest twitch of a muscle.
“It’s not happening. No way.”
Ten minutes later I’m wearing a leather jacket from props and shoes that are a size too small and jeans that are a little too tight. Jason wasn’t as big as me, and none of this shit really fits me right. A man with eyebrows that are far too perfect to be natural approaches me, arms bent at the elbow and hands dangling uselessly like a T-rex. He reaches to a nearby table and grabs a make-up kit.
I jab a finger at him. “You touch me with that make-up, and you fucking die.”
He claws his fingers at me. “Rawr.” He calls over his shoulder to Makayla. “He’s feisty, you sure he’s straight?”
“Hands off, Andy.”
Andy tsks, walking away and throwing me a look over his shoulder.
What the fuck am I doing?
I walk toward the set and notice most of the women on the crew and cast are looking at me strangely. “What are they looking at?” I ask Makayla, feeling uncharacteristically nervous.
She grins, touching my chest affectionately. “Even people in show business aren’t used to seeing guys as gorgeous as you. They have probably all been wondering how long it would take for someone to throw you in front of a camera.”
“Great,” I growl.
“That’s good,” she says, still grinning. “Channel your inner Jack Carpenter. Gritty. Angry. Deadly.”
I roll my eyes. “Let’s get this over with.”
She hands me the script and I glance through the lines. There aren’t many of them, so I quickly commit them to memory and set the script aside.
“You’re going to need that,” she says, pointing to the script.
“I’m good,” I say.
There is a slight commotion as the crew gets cameras and lights ready. Camillo reenters the studio, staring angrily when he sees everyone is still setting up cameras even though he called it a day. “What the fuck?” he asks.
Makayla steps forward. “Camillo. I think we found the perfect actor for Jack Carpenter. Meet Jesse Slade,” she says, gesturing to me grandly.
Camillo takes me in. “Your bodyguard?”
Makayla nods. “My personal protection who is also an amazing actor.”
Camillo frowns. “Fine. He gets one take. He definitely looks the part, at least. Probably can’t act for shit though.”