Starlet: A Dark Retelling - Cora Kenborn Page 0,16

my hand. “If you can give her a better life, you need to convince her to listen to you.” Her voice catches as her eyes trail over her shoulder toward the dead-end bar. “No one deserves to die serving cheap booze in a dirty apron. Especially her. She has talent, McCallum. Real talent.”

“How selfless of you. Unfortunately, you fell on the wrong sword. Even after stealing my wallet, she still refuses to listen to anything I have to say.”

“You’re a persuasive guy,” she says, giving my chest a firm pat. “You’ll figure it out.” I’m about to tell her I can’t figure my way out of half the shit I’m in when she adds, “You owe it to her.”

She can’t be serious.

“I’m sorry, you think I owe her for robbing me blind?”

“No, you owe her a chance. You ruined her life, McCallum. Then again, that’s what you do, isn’t it? Destroy people. Exploit weaknesses to make yourself feel like a big shot.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never met that girl before in my life.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t remember her.” Fire burns in her eyes. “I mean, she was just a faceless, nameless casualty in your quest for justice. Kind of like when you did that expose on Last First Kiss and shut down the whole production. Do you even remember the name of the actress you ruined in your crusade?”

I can hear the hatred in her words. She spits them out like poisoned darts, but my skin has grown so thick through the years, I don’t even flinch. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t run around with a pitchfork ruining people’s lives, but if I see an opening, I’ll take it.

“Her name was Jade Saxton,” I snap. “And that producer is now serving a ten-year sentence for sexual assault. So, you’re welcome for that.”

She blanches. “Even so, she was innocent.”

“Justice isn’t free, sweetheart. We all pay a price.”

Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath before opening them. “Look, you’ve already made the offer. I’m just asking you to follow through. I’ll beg if that’s what you want.”

“Why?” It’s one word. Simple, to the point, and loaded with suspicion.

“Look where you are, McCallum.” Spreading her arms wide, she gestures around the dark alley. “You think if we had a choice, we’d choose this life, waking up every morning wondering if that’s the day we’ll end up back on the streets?” She sighs, the fury draining out of her.

“So, selling out your friend is your big selfless act?”

“I don’t trust you, McCallum. But between watching Angel barely survive and selling her out to a man who can save her, I’ll sell her out every time.” I’m still processing what she said when she turns to go back inside. “By the way,” she says, tilting her chin over her shoulder, “Angel used to go by another name.”

I should walk away right now. Instead, I raise an eyebrow and wait.

“Back in Hollywood,” she adds. “Before it was dragged through the mud, and we ended up here.”

I almost don’t ask. Somehow, I know her answer will change everything. But I’ve never been one for a wait and see approach. “What was it?”

The air hangs heavy between us as she utters the two words that start the countdown. “Jade Saxton.”

Chapter Eight

Angel

Dropping my keys and backpack on the floor, I stumble into the tiny apartment Violet and I share. I don’t bother turning on the lights. There’s nothing in this shithole I care to see.

Besides, I’m no stranger to the dark. Where most people fear the unknown, I’m drawn to it. They never understand until it’s too late that the light is what they should fear. There’s nowhere to hide under a spotlight. It doesn’t chase away the monsters. It leads them right to your door.

Kind of like Dominic McCallum.

Of all the men to walk into the bar, of all the men to choose to steal from, it had to be the one I hate with every fiber of my being.

So, why can’t I get him out of my mind?

“Because I’m obviously insane,” I grumble. Pulling my shirt over my head, I toss it on the floor and stumble toward the bathroom while simultaneously trying to pop the button on my jeans. Not an easy task, made painfully clear when I slam into the wall like a human pinball.

“Shit!”

Have I mentioned how much this day can go fuck itself?

Keeping one hand braced against the wall, I bend down and kick off my