Not that it’s ever quiet with ... speaking of ... I look around.
“Where the hell are the Double D’s?” I say under my breath.
As I say it, three extras walk out of the makeup trailer, giggling. Their faces are red as Devin follows them out. Well, I’ve discovered where my puppies went.
I smile to myself, not bothering to whip them into shape.Oh, I really am getting soft.Whatever. I finish my walk, taking the steps to my trailer quickly, before tugging the metal door open, but as I walk inside, the room is pitch black.
My heart kicks up a notch, the way it always does when I’m faced with the dark. But I meant it when I said today I wanted to move on, so I exhale a really deep breath and walk inside, letting the damn door close behind me.
I’m standing there, acclimating, letting myself just breathe.It’s literally just a dark room. And plenty of fun shit happens in the dark allthe time.I can’t help the smile that forms on my face as I think of last night with Chase.
Really, really fun shit happened last night.
I reach up to the wall and begin feeling around for the switch before it transforms into a nervous giggle because I know I’m fine, but Rome wasn’t built in a day.
At least I’m not having a panic attack ... I’m just a normal amount of scared. Well, maybe a little bit more than normal, but I know it’s irrational.
I frown, patting the wall down ... actually not irrational. I almost got murdered in the dark. Then again, those orgasms last night also felt like I might die.
I’m pretty sure this isn’t what anyone meant by the term “sexual healing.” But whatever works.
I’m definitely not sharing this on Reddit, though.
As I find the switch and flick it up, I suddenly feel flesh—a hand.
I gasp, my shoulders hitting my ears before I start laughing hysterically, knowing exactly what I’m feeling.
The smile on my face is wide as I stare at my Thing hand. The one I made years ago and hang next to a light switch because the jump scare never gets old.
I just never have my lights off. So the scare doesn’t get me.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, but I ignore it because there’s a rap at my door. I turn, opening it.
The head of security’s standing in the door, a guy in his mid-sixties who went gray a long time ago and refers to old movie stars like we should all know who he’s talking about.
“Hey, Rick, is there a problem?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’m just keeping an eye on all the trailers. The young guys are patrolling. What with all the Jenny nonsense, we have to keep our eyes peeled.” He leans in and whispers like he’s telling me a secret, so I do the same. “Between us, sweetheart, it’s a setup.She’s trying to get herself on some TMZ thing. You know, to make her famous.”
My mouth falls open, and my eyes spring wide. “God, I love a good goss sesh. No. Way.”
He nods, then snaps his fingers. “By the way, I found some footage of an extra taking your fish.”
I stick out my bottom lip because I miss Ruth Bader.
“Yeah, the Double D’s told me.”
He laughs at the nickname. “Yeah, but I found some more. It’s a better shot of his face. I’ll be around all night if you wanna take a look.”
I pat his arm. “Heck yeah, Rick. I’ll come by later. I have to make new blood first.”
Maybe Scooby ganging it isn’t such a bad idea.
He turns around, waving at me as he opens my trailer door. “Oh yeah, ’cause this movie’s getting an Oscar.”
I laugh as the door bangs shut, leaving me alone to create fresh blood because, apparently, realism has left the building. But humor still reigns supreme.
Chapter Eighteen
