Chapter 41
Sebastian
The Celebrity Sighting
“This will end in a bloodbath,” the masked figure said to the camera before stepping to the side and putting a bullet into Antoinette’s brain. I’d watched the video over a hundred times, analyzing each and every frame. Who had done such a heinous thing, and why had they done it the way they had?
I spent my day off thinking of every possible scenario.
This kill order had to have come from Elliott Bradley—the top dog in all of Hollywood.
But there was no way it was him, or any of the others on Evie’s list, in this video.
They’d hired the masked man. They were smarter than Evie gave them credit for.
Sure, we’d taken out the first three relatively easily, but that was only because they were glorified frat bros.
But the next three? They were going to be much harder.
I gave up trying to figure out who the masked man was.
Instead, I focused on the one thing I couldn’t make heads or tails of.
Why had they taken her all the way to Michigan?
You’d think if they were driving Evie to run to Antoinette, they’d have done something once she got there, but they let her take Antoinette’s body with no issues.
She’d returned unharmed, albeit emotionally destroyed.
Needing her to finish the movie was a bullshit excuse for keeping her alive. Everyone was replaceable.
They’d tried to replace her. They gave me the ultimatum: stay on set and keep my job, or walk away and be fired from the franchise I helped build.
I walked out, fucked my Final Girl until she saw stars, then came back to set to take my punishment.
Only, there was none. Dante and Skye had both fought with the producers to cut the scenes with Skye and me, and much to my shock, it worked.
The movie wasn’t canceled, I still had a job, and Evie remained my Final Girl.
Since Antoinette’s murder, she’d spent a lot of time with Skye and me, alternating evenings.
When she was with me, she cried a lot. I gave her the space to do so.
I only wished I’d been able to do the same when Lita was killed.
She’d left so fast, I hadn’t had time to even say goodbye.
We’d left the funeral, and the next day she’d blocked my number.
I had to hear through the grapevine that she’d moved to Michigan to live with an aunt. It was all so odd and hurtful.
I didn’t tell anyone, even Evie, that I was doing my own little investigation into the video. I looked into who owned the building Antoinette was found in, along with where she’d been when she was taken. I wasn’t sure if I was getting anywhere, but I had to try, for Evie’s sake.
The next day, I was on set, lunch was called, and I went out to take my break. While on my way to my trailer, I bumped into someone unexpected.
“Sebastian Shaw, what a surprise!” Elliott Bradley, of all people, saw me from across the lot and started over, outstretching his hand when he grew close.
I stood there awkwardly and let him come to me. When our hands touched, he squeezed hard before letting go.
“Hello… How do you know who I am?” I asked, surprised. While it was safe to assume Fred had told him before he died, it was still odd for an A-lister to recognize a working actor like me.
“Step-Devil? How could I not? You were great in that. I told my agent we should get you on one of my shows. Maybe What Movie is That? The fans would love that.”
I scanned through my mind, trying to recall the show he was talking about.
He hosted or judged so many of them. It was hard to keep track.
“Yeah, sure. Sounds fun. Have your agent call mine.” I tried to move on, but he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.
He kept his smile plastered on his face, but his eyes turned ice cold.
“Hold on. We’re not done here. I’ve seen you in the tabloids. You and Lita Reyes’s daughter, huh?”
I nodded. “Yes, we’re dating.”
“Right, dating.” He winked. PR relationships were no new thing, although most, like mine and Evie’s, were secret. “I’ve dated a time or two during a film. How’s that going?”
“It’s great, actually. I think she’s a wonderful person.”
“Good boy. Your PR coaching was worth the money.” There was an awkward silence, and then he pursed his lips. “She’s something, ain’t she? She reminds me of her mother—feisty, smart, sexy.”
I cringed. This man might possibly be her father.
Hopefully he wasn’t, but he could be. I scanned his face, searching for traces of Evie in him.
It was difficult, as Evie resembled so much of her mother.
Elliott was traditional Hollywood handsome with a Latin edge.
Strong facial structure, eyes and hair the same dark shade of brown that was almost black.
He had a tall build and broad shoulders, presumably washboard abs.
I wasn’t all that different from him. I just came in a different style.
It was on the tip of my tongue to mention that he shouldn’t be calling his potential daughter sexy, but then it hit me.
He’d been testing me. He wanted me to react.
He wanted to see what I knew.
I bit back the words and nodded.
“She’s talented. It’s been an honor working with her.”
“Oh, I’m sure. A legacy? Lita was an extraordinary actress.
She could tell a story so convincingly, she would have everyone enraptured and hanging onto every word as if it were the truth.
She once told us a story so well, she had tears streaming down her face, and the men at the table with their wallets out, ready to give her the world, only to find out she’d just told us the plot of Evil Dead. ”
He clicked his tongue and shook his head.
“Women like Lita, like Evie, know the kind of power they hold. They see the light in a man’s eyes when they look upon them and know how to use it to their advantage. It was fun with Lita—for a while. But when she got too pushy and her requests turned into demands, well...”
“She committed suicide?” I said.
He smiled. “Exactly.” He stared me down, refusing to look away.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Bradley.” I tried to step out of his way, but he mirrored my movements so that we stayed parallel.
“I’m not done. I heard about your neighbor, Fred Castle. He was a good friend of mine.”
I nodded and pursed my lips. “Suicide. His house is already for sale if you’re interested. Might be a bit small for you.” I played it aloof.
“Suicide, that word gets thrown around a lot here. It’s easy for rumors to spread. Do you think he killed himself?”
The cold stare told me he was prepared for me to lie.
“It’s hard to say. He was divorced. Wife took everything.” I shrugged. “Wasn’t he an alcoholic? I’m sorry for your loss.”
“No, you’re not,” he snapped, then looked around to see if anyone was watching.
He’d stopped me in broad daylight. He seemed to remember this, and stepped back, removing his hand from my shoulder.
“I’m not stupid. Fred wasn’t either. You just caught him with his pants down. That girl of yours better behave.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I lied. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get lunch.”
I started to walk away, and finally, he let me go with no resistance, but then he called out.
“I know you were there that night with Mike Thornton.”
I stopped and turned. He stormed over to me and brought his hand up, pinching my chin. I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to swat him away. Catching a charge for the assault of America’s sweetheart? That would have longer damage than any bruise I might have dealt him.
“I know all about what went on. Mike and I were close, which you know. I read the report, and I get why you did it. He was an ass when he was drunk. I can only imagine what he did that day with you. But it was a mistake on your part. You should have stayed in your lane. That’s what’s going to get you in trouble.
It’s what got Lita Reyes in trouble too, and by the sounds of it, her stupid kid isn’t far behind.
This is your warning, Shaw. Sit back down. ”
“Or what? Evie deserves to know what happened to her mom.” I slapped his hand away, then I plastered on a large smile, as if this were all some sort of game between us.
I wasn’t going to admit to anything, especially not here.
If he were anyone else, I would have already swung my fist into his jaw, but this man had his hands in every pot.
He had shows, films, book deals, clothing lines—even cookware, I was pretty sure, at some point.
If a photo or video of us was captured with me looking anything but perfectly pleasant around him, my career would be dead by midnight.
“What happened to her mother is public record. She killed herself for being a whore.” Elliott laughed loudly, as if he’d just told me the best joke known to man.
People passed by and smiled when they saw Elliott, but no one caught on that we were arguing. We were just two friends catching up.
His smile fell, and he grew serious again. “Let’s not keep going with this. It doesn’t have to be so messy. I’d hate for that man from that video to be telling the truth.”
My mouth opened partially. “What?”
Elliott leaned in, that chilling smile returning as he whispered in my ear, sending fear slithering down my spine with each word. “This will end in a bloodbath.”