I’m not a fan of yours, especially now. But this is his show, and I’m just trying to give him what he wants. If that means I have to be the prick, that’s my job, not yours. I need you to focus.”
“Focus?” I snap. “Are you fucking serious right now? You insult me then ask for a favor. Go fuck yourself. I want to speak with Wes.”
“Wes is breaking, so you’ll have to deal with me.”
“Not happening.”
“Fucking figures,” he mutters. “You’re a joke, you know that? All this shit you’re putting us through is ridiculous. You know damn well when word gets around about what a little bitch—”
My fist lands squarely where I intend it to. The bone crunch utterly satisfying as he reels back covering his nose, his eyes wide. I don’t stop there. I swing again and again until I’ve connected at least two more blows.
“Call me a bitch again, you piece of shit,” I snap. “Please, say it again, you stupid motherfucker,” I snarl, charging toward him. “Who am I? I’m the man paying the bills! That’s who the fuck I am.” It takes me a second to realize the cinematographer is shooting every single minute of our altercation and white-hot light erupts from me as I pull the trigger and let the lava flow. I only come to when I’m in my chair and reports are being filed. Bottle in hand, I flex my fist studying the blood on my knuckles before I wipe it on the sad excuse of a shirt.
“Get off set, Walker,” Wes orders as Jeremy glares at me from behind him, holding an ice pack to his nose. “Go get some rest.”
The next hour is a blur of lawyer calls, set announcements, and the production team scrambling around my trailer. Odd looks are tossed my way, and I reciprocate with a wink, taking another drink. “Ah, liberating, I get it now.”
Mila
My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I open my eyes, sitting straight up in bed. Swiping to answer, I ask the only question there is to ask while panic races through my veins. “Lucas? What’s wrong?”
“Mila.”
“What happened?”
His breathing is labored. The hairs on my neck rise. His voice is barely recognizable. “Lucas, please tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t know how I got here.” Fear, it’s fear I hear cracking his voice.
“I’m coming.”
“Don’t. You won’t find who you’re looking for,” he says in warning.
Throwing the covers off, I dash for my closet. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does. Don’t come here.”
That has me pausing in my closet.
“Why?”
“Because you’ll be disappointed. Your love is conditional. You’ve never loved the bad guy.”
“That’s not true. I love you no matter what,” I say, my voice breaking over the line. “I’m coming. Where are you now?”
“I’m nowhere,” he says, his voice taking on an edge. The only sound I hear is ice clinking into a glass before the line goes dead.
I stare at the phone in my hand, blinking before I register the time. It’s just before daybreak. He’s not sleeping at all. He says he’s not there, but I know damn well my husband is the one that reached out to me. I won’t let him down, I promised I wouldn’t. We’re living in a land of fiction, and it’s up to me to decipher the truths from the lies. He’s imploding. I just hope I can save him before the lies swallow us both whole.
Getting a drink of water, I check my texts and see an incoming message from Nova a few hours prior.
Nova: Lucas just lost his shit on the AD and broke his nose. Wes is doing his best to keep him from pressing charges. It’s a damn mess.
I’m on my way.
Mila
I have to see him, to lay eyes on him. They’re set to wrap in El Paso within the week, but that doesn’t stop me from booking the first available flight. They’re far along in the movie. The desert scenes are close to last in the sequence but some of the most grueling. This part of the storyboard is where Nikki makes a power play for the throne, savagely killing over a dozen men and demanding loyalty from his wife in the most brutal of ways. These scenes are taxing, and I know his stamina is wilting. I need a purpose, a reason to believe all this sacrifice is worth it. It’s the only thing that will reel me back in from breaking at the seams. I’m overwhelmed with the change in Lucas