Chapter 11
Sebastian
The Producer
I waited at the door, my leg bouncing with nerves. It was bold of me to show up like this, but I hoped bringing food and drinks would soften Evie up enough to let me spend the evening with her. I glanced back at the short moving van in her driveway, telling me she was here.
I shifted my weight from side to side, the hot pizza no longer stinging my hands as it cooled. I huffed, feeling awkward. Maybe she was in the backyard or something. I pushed the doorbell again, and suddenly the door flew open and Evie stood before me, breathing heavily.
“Hey! Sorry, I didn’t hear the doorbell. I’ve been unpacking. What’s up?”
I eyed her suspiciously as she wiped a bead of sweat from her brow.
I held up the pizza and six-pack. “I just wanted to say congrats on getting the role. I thought we could have dinner, talk about it.”
And, you know, the other stuff. Like me eating your pussy in front of a room full of people.
Something about her demeanor wasn’t right. Her smile didn’t meet her eyes.
“Oh, sure. Um…okay, yeah.” She seemed unsure about letting me in, but eventually moved to the side to welcome me in.
I went in and reflexively took my shoes off, as I’d always done when we were kids.
“It’s like stepping through time,” I admired. “It even smells the same.”
“Yeah, I found a stash of the candles she loved. Vanilla cupcake. I lit a few and stuck them all over,” she said, closing the door.
I headed straight to the kitchen and dropped the pizza and bag of drinks on the table.
“I thought, with it being your first time here since your mom’s passing, you might like some company,” I said, turning to face her.
The panicked look on her face subsided, and she smiled.
“Thanks. That was kind of you to think about me. How did you know I was moving in today?” she asked, opening the box and taking a slice of cheese pizza.
“You told me...” My brow furrowed. “Earlier today, when I texted?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, right! I forgot.”
“I hope it wasn’t too forward to stop by. I just knew the address.” I cringed inwardly.
Was this a mistake?
“No, it’s fine.” She waved off my concerns with her hand, blowing air through her lips. “Dante said we should probably spend more time together... It’s just been a crazy day.”
“Right.” I grinned and started unpacking my bag, pulling out beer, a couple of Red Bulls, and water. I grabbed two beers from the six-pack, handing one to her. “Congrats, Final Girl. I knew you’d land it.”
She rolled her eyes, and I fell in love.
“Yeah, like you didn’t bomb your test with Skye to make sure she wasn’t even an option.” She set her beer down and turned toward the cabinets, opening them one by one, finding them empty.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I grinned, opening both bottles and a Red Bull for myself. I wasn’t ready to admit that the reason I’d bombed so badly was because I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
“They must have packed away all the dishes. All I have down here are bottles and bottles of cleaner.”
I glanced past her, seeing a few random soaps but no dishes.
She shut the doors and reached for the beer in my hand. “I’ll have to ask about them tomorrow.”
“You want to watch a movie or something? Is your internet set up?”
“It sure is. Grab the food.” She started toward the den. “But just one movie. I still have unpacking to do.”
“I can help. I don’t have any plans tonight,” I offered.
She didn’t say anything. Instead, she led me through the house.
“Did you intentionally keep it as it was, or have you just not decorated yet?” I asked.
“I didn’t bring a whole lot with me. This is just temporary.
Once the movie is over—the press tour and stuff, all of it—I think I’ll finally sell it.
For now, it feels nice to see my mom everywhere.
” She picked up the remote and turned on the mini movie-theater-sized TV on the wall.
This room, other than Evie’s bedroom—for obvious reasons—had always been my favorite in the house.
Lita had decorated this room like a real movie theater.
Movie posters were framed on the walls. There were candy shelves, a mini fridge for drinks and ice cream, a hot dog cooker, and a popcorn machine.
They were all empty now, but she used to keep them stocked for Evie and me.
Along the walls sat real theater seats, purely for aesthetic.
The center of the room held a ridiculously long red couch and two coffee tables in front of them and two smaller end tables on each side.
You could easily fit ten people on the furniture to watch a show.
“I know, it’s weird with nothing stocked.” She saw me looking at the snack area. “I’ll grab some stuff and maybe host a movie night or something soon—with the whole cast.”
“Right. The whole cast...” I furrowed my brow. She was really making me work for her attention. I was practically throwing myself at a brick wall.
I set the food on an end table and plopped down on the couch.
“Is this your way of telling me I’m not special?” I teased.
She sat on the other side, far away from me, and huffed at the screen as she tried to log into her streaming service accounts.
“This is always the annoying part. What?” She glanced my way, clearly having not heard me.
“Nothing.” I sipped my beer then set it down, trading it for my Red Bull. She paused and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Do you ever go without those?”
“Not if I have the choice.” I popped the tab and took a swig. “Try one. I brought a few flavors.”
She picked one up, reading the label.
“I’m partial to blueberry. The yellow ones are good too.”
She set the red can down and opted for the yellow one, popping it open and taking a sip.
“Ooh, I do like this one. Let me try the watermelon.” She opened that one as well, took a sip, and grimaced.
I nodded. “Yeah, those are gross. We can just dump it.” I took it from her and set it aside to trash later. “Energy drinks are a must have, working long hours like we do.”
“We?”
“Well, you’re one of us now, Final Girl.” I winked. “You might want to ask for some of these in your trailer once we start filming.”
I grabbed a slice of pizza and mowed down while she logged into her accounts and began to scroll.
“What do you want to watch?” she asked, automatically going to the horror category.
“Candyman? I could go for some Tony Todd action,” I said when the picture popped up.
She pushed play with no argument.
As if there were any argument not to watch Tony Todd.
“I need to go check on something,” she said as soon as the movie started. She bolted out of the room and was gone for almost ten minutes, leaving me to watch the movie solo. She returned looking just as frazzled as when she’d answered the door.
“Is everything all right?” I asked.
She smoothed her hair and tugged her shirt down.
“Yeah, of course. Why?” The last word came up an octave higher, making me think that something was definitely not all right.
She must have seen the suspicion in my eyes, because this time when she came to the couch, she sat right next to me, tucking her legs underneath her.
She sighed and offered me a small smile as she changed the subject. “This is...”
“Nice?” I offered when she couldn’t come up with a word.
I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into me.
“Nostalgic,” she said. “It’s weird, seeing you all grown up.”
I gulped as memories flashed before my eyes—specifically yesterday, when I had my head between her thighs.
“You’re even more beautiful now than you were before.” I reached up, brushing her hair behind her ear to admire her jewelry. She was wearing bright red metal tunnels the shape of hearts in her stretched lobes.
“Getting out of Hollywood did wonders for my self-confidence,” she said. “In Michigan, I could be whoever I wanted. I didn’t have to worry about not landing jobs because I got a tattoo.” She snickered.
“You still got a job here,” I argued. “And I have tattoos. You’ve seen them. What did you think of the chainsaw?” I teased.
She sat up some, and I took note that her cheeks had a flush to them.
“Groovy,” she said, quoting Ash’s infamous line from Evil Dead. “And yes, I have seen your tattoos, but you can’t honestly say being a major Hollywood actor hasn’t held you back from getting more than just what you can hide under clothes.”
“All right, maybe.” I rolled my eyes but then leaned in, our lips only an inch apart. “That just makes seeing my tattoos a fun surprise. Did you like what you saw yesterday, Evie Reyes?”
Her breath hitched, her eyes widening.
I started to lean in when something fell upstairs.
The loud thump caused Evie to jerk away and stand. “I need to go check on that,” she said and flew from the room.
I stood and followed her. “Is everything okay?” I asked as I went up the stairs. I went to her mom’s room, directly above the den. “Evie?” I called.
“Don’t come in here!” she yelped. “I’m naked.”
I paused at the door. That was the worst excuse she could give me. Her being naked would only make me want to barge in faster. I pushed it open slowly, letting the creak signal my presence. “What’s going on?”
A muffled protest came in response, but it wasn’t from her. It was a deeper voice. A man’s.
Jealousy got the best of me, and I strode in.
“What the—oh, fuck.” I paused midstep, the words falling out of my mouth.
I took in the scene, not entirely sure what I was seeing.
Evie stood there holding a pair of pantyhose, with Glenn Thornton tied to a chair, his mouth gagged with.
..more pantyhose? He glared at me and continued fighting his restraints.
“Evie...what is going on?”
“I told you not to come in.” She crossed her arms. “Why didn’t you respect me when I said I was naked?”
I stared, unable to take my eyes off the man she had tied up with what looked like just more nylon stockings. How many pairs did she have? Were they really that strong? “But you weren’t. You were... What were you doing?” The words came slowly, my brain struggling to process the scene.
Glenn rolled his head until the gag loosened, then spit it out. “She was trying to kill me.”