Chapter 6
UNBELIEVABLE.
Walter had often fantasized about the moment he would reconnect with Bing. At first he’d imagined a simple phone call. Then he pictured his friend appearing in a wheelchair with a story about a coma. Eventually he’d gone to wild thoughts of death, dismemberment, or abduction by aliens. And then, the day before filming had begun, Walter went into mourning. The only reason Bing would have stayed incommunicado for eight weeks was because he was dead.
Walter had accepted the loss of his best friend and then—in Bing’s honor—had taken on the role of Red Wolf. He’d never dreamed the man would show up chasing kangaroos and looking like… well, Bing. Which meant he was gorgeous. And never, ever had Walter imagined he’d be hanging like a trussed goose from the rafters when it happened.
And WTF? Kangaroos?
“Get me down from here,” he said. He was pleased that his voice remained calm and he hadn’t had to resort to his inhaler… yet. When Bing stood there and stared at him, Walter snapped into his new leading-man voice. “Now!”
It worked. Wow. Bing blinked and nodded, quickly scanning the area before he found where the ropes were tied off. He was gratifyingly quick releasing the cables and only somewhat awkward as he lowered Walter to the ground. It was normally a two-man job, but naturally Bing managed it alone. The guy was certainly strong.
Walter hit the ground and started pulling off the halter, only his costume got in the way. It was designed to hide the harness, and Walter tried not to rip the fabric in his haste. He hated that his hands were shaking, and he prayed he’d be able to keep his cool. How was he supposed to react when his leading man and best friend showed up after being presumed dead for eight weeks?
“What—” he asked, but the woman in black leather cut him off.
“There’s been a gas leak in the area. Weird stuff that causes a hallucinogenic effect. I have no idea what you saw, but believe me, it wasn’t real.”
Huh. That would explain… very little. “Hallucinogens don’t snap your knee,” he said, pointing to her swelling limb.
“It was already hurt,” she said. “I just made it worse when I tripped over the cables, then banged into that table.”
More plausible. “Why are you here in the first place?”
“Didn’t you see that wolf?” She shuddered. “It was vicious. Scared the hell out of some campers to the west of here. We’re affiliated with animal control and were trying to catch it.” She grimaced. “I can’t believe it got away.” Then she glared down at her leg. “I can’t believe I’m going to be laid up with this damned knee.”
“A wolf,” he said dryly.
“Yeah,” she answered with a confused smile. “What did you see?”
“Two kangaroos.” He’d even managed to box with one of them for a bit. Enough to distract it so that—
“Really?” she gasped, chuckling loudly. “I bet that was confusing as hell. Nope. It was a wolf, though it moved fast enough for two. And I bet it looked as big as a kangaroo. It sure as hell did to me.”
She was good. She spoke with enough conviction and easy charm that he almost believed her words, despite what he’d seen and felt. But then he looked at Bing, who was pale and sweating. He wore jeans, boots, and a heavy flannel shirt that was soaked through and torn in places. And he wouldn’t look directly at Walter but stared fixedly at the teahouse set.
“That true, Bing? Gas leak? Wolf attack?”
Bing’s head jerked down in a kind of nod, but then he gestured to the set. “What are you doing here?” he asked. Then he lifted his chin. “What are you filming?”
Was there accusation in his tone? Betrayal? Well, fuck that. Walter matched Bing chin lift for chin lift. “Your movie,” he said flatly. “Where the hell have you been?”
Walter watched Bing’s face closely, wanting to read the minute changes in his expression. He needed to know what Bing was thinking.
He got a whisper of anguish, an echo of longing, and maybe a flicker of joy. Or maybe that was what Walter was feeling. Meanwhile, Bing scanned the empty set. “Where is Kong?”
“Kong?” Walter yelled. “You think I’d hire the asshole son of Grand Master Asshole?”
Bing’s gaze shot back to Walter. “Then who is playing Red Wolf?”
“I am,” Walter said. “Badly. But what choice did I have?” He stepped right up into Bing’s face. “Where. The fuck. Have you been?”
Bing swallowed and then exhaled slowly. “I’ve been chasing wolves.” There was truth in his words and his expression. If Walter had to guess, Bing was begging him to believe it had all been a big hallucination.
Two months ago Walter would have given in. Bing had had that much power over him back then. But not now.
“Bullshit,” he said. He wanted to say a lot more. He wanted to spin on his heels and tell Bing to either tell the truth or get the fuck off his set.Hismeaning Walter’s, because Bing had no place here anymore.
