Chapter 54
Evie
The Philanthropist
“You think a journal is missing?” Sebastian looked at me, skeptical.
“There has to be. One moment she’s planning their wedding. The next she’s six months pregnant.”
I knew spending my evenings poring over Charles’s journals bothered him. He wanted to let this all go, but we were so close, I could taste the blood of the two men I had left. Arthur Englund and Elliott Bradley.
We spotted them walking together a few days ago. I wasn’t paying much attention to my surroundings while I snacked at the craft services table, but Sebastian nudged me. Grabbing a small bundle of grapes, I turned to see two handsome middle-aged men walking by, smiling and chatting with each other.
I recognized their faces from simple internet searches and the many TV appearances Elliott made, but seeing them in person was chilling. I dropped the grape in my hand, my mouth falling open. “Was that—”
“Arthur and Elliott? Yep. I’m surprised this is the first time you’ve seen them. They’ve been walking around a lot this week.”
“Really? I wonder why,” I asked, and when Sebastian gave me a pointed look, my face flushed.
Right. They were sending a message as a united front.
A warning. We knew they had been the ones inside Charles’s house that night.
We’d narrowly escaped getting caught by them, but they knew we’d been there.
All of this was suspicion, until later that day, I found a gift in my trailer.
The lost journal.
I ran out of my trailer, waving it in the air as I went to look for Sebastian.
Finding him in his trailer, I urged him to leave, so we could go back to his place and read the book.
I found myself staying at his house more often than not these days.
It was just easier with the filming schedule and the constant fear of someone breaking into my house and murdering me.
That and we were supposed to be dating. It really sold the story to our coworkers.
“I told you there was a book missing!” I squealed as we drove home. I flipped through the pages, scanning Charles’s tight, clean handwriting. “This is going to fill in the blanks. I know it.”
I wasn’t sure if I was saying it to Sebastian or myself, but I felt it in my bones, this journal would tell me everything I needed to know, and how to proceed.
Hours later, Sebastian found me on the couch, curled up with his dogs.
“You fell asleep to The Blob?” He glanced at the TV, where Steve McQueen was fighting a giant, gelatinous...well, blob.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up, disturbing Cujo and Precious.
“I had to finish this journal. I fell asleep right as I finished the last page.” I patted the empty spot beside me for him to sit.
He did, pulling me across his lap to snuggle.
“This... Something isn’t right,” I confessed with a large sigh.
“How so?” He ran his fingers through my hair, and I closed my eyes, savoring the closeness.
I breathed in, inhaling the scent of soap from his shower.
“So, it starts by saying there were six men who could be my father. But we know that’s not true because Charles wasn’t even in the country.
The journal claims she was having affairs with all six of them at once, and when she got pregnant, she claimed rape and tried to blackmail them for money.
” I shook my head. “None of this matches the other journals.”
My twisted nerves told me that this was a dupe. Someone had found the same type of journal and paid someone who could mimic his handwriting to write this.
“When was it written?” he asked.
“The dates are from before she died. According to him, they’d been discussing getting back together, and while they were talking, she told him about all the affairs.
At which time, the friend group got together and planned their revenge.
I just—” I sat up and turned around to look at him. “This doesn’t make sense.”
He reached for the journal, flipping through the pages.
“I mean...maybe it’s a fake?” he offered.
So he thought it too.
“But how could we tell?”
“I’m not sure. We believed all the other journals, and this has his handwriting, but that doesn’t mean much. Wait, who left this for you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. It was in my trailer. It could have been anyone.”
“So, let’s do some digging before we take this lead. It might be a trap. Come to bed.”
I looked back at the dogs. They seemed to have understood him, because they began to whine. Sebastian didn’t allow them to sleep in his bed, so they loved cuddling with me on the couch.
“Evie...” Sebastian started, knowing the guilty look on my face all too well.
“They’re so sad,” I pouted.
“And so am I. I couldn’t sleep. That’s why I came to find you.”
With a sigh, I followed him to bed and had another restful night of sleep wrapped in his large, warm arms.
“WHAT ARE YOUR plans for your mom’s house? Are you still considering selling it once this is all over?” Sebastian asked as we walked through the studio lot the next morning.
“What do you mean?” I scanned the area, seeing all the people heading to their jobs, not paying us any attention. We were never really alone at the studio, but some ears were more curious than others.
“Well, you haven’t been spending much time there.”
“We’ve talked about this,” I said. “It’s not safe for me to be alone there right now. And you have your dogs. It makes sense for me to sleep on your couch,” I teased him. The dogs did make me feel safer, but it was Sebastian’s presence in the house that helped me sleep.
“Yes, but you’re not staying on my couch a whole lot, are you?” He stopped walking and reached for my wrist.
I looked up and caught his gaze. Those glorious greens were blazing, daring me to confess my true intentions and feelings for him.
My heart raced, and my breathing quickened.
He was right. I said I was sleeping with the dogs, but more often than not, I was slipping into his room and enjoying the comfort of his soft mattress, thick blankets, and warm arms.
“It’s strictly platonic.” I pulled away, feeling entirely too warm under his gaze, and started walking again.
“I’ve never cuddled my platonic friends to sleep. Is that what you do?” he called loudly for others to hear.
My mouth fell open, and I turned back around to argue, when my gaze flicked to someone behind him.
“Here’s Johnny,” I muttered, letting Sebastian know we had guests.
“Sebastian!” Arthur Englund strode over, hand out and a smile on his face.
Sebastian shook his hand, his jaw ticking as he glared at the blond man in the mustard-yellow suit.
He turned to me. “Evelyn, how are things going?”
“Great, thanks. We’re actually late for our morning call.”
“Oh, I’m sure you have a minute.” Arthur glanced at me and winked.
I cringed, but he ignored it.
“I actually wanted to ask if you were attending the Roses Charity Gala.”
The blood drained from my face. My heart dropped into my stomach. How did he know about that?
“Roses?” Sebastian said, feigning ignorance.
“We Become Roses. It’s the charity Lita Reyes founded, before her passing. I’ve been a major donor since its creation. We were hoping you’d both attend.”
“Who is we?” I demanded. How fucking ironic.
He chuckled. “The board of directors, of course.”
Board of directors?
My mother’s rapist was helping run the charity she’d started to help other victims. How had I missed this?
My head was spinning. I needed to sit down.
I was so out of my league with all of this.
I’d told myself when I came back to Hollywood that I was prepared for anything, but I was realizing I couldn’t be further from prepared.
How had I missed that one of my mother’s killers was working to keep her charity running?
“So, you’re coming? We plan to honor Lita this year for the anniversary.”
“What anniversary?” I asked, more and more confused.
“It’s the ten-year anniversary of the creation of Wbr. It’s a big deal. Do you not get our newsletters?”
Our?
Anger seethed under my skin.
“I’m going,” I snapped. “It sounds like I’ve missed a lot. As my mother’s proxy, I should probably sit in on a meeting and see exactly who is running her charity and what they are doing. Thanks.” I spun around and stormed off in the other direction, deciding on the long way to hair and makeup.
“We’d love to hear you give a speech!” Arthur called out.
I clenched my fists and kept going, refusing to look back. Sebastian caught up with me a minute later, just as I turned a corner.
“Hey, it’s okay, Final Girl. Calm down.” Sebastian put his hands on my shoulders, spinning me and pulling me into his embrace. He kissed the top of my head as I sobbed into his arms. “It’s okay, Final Girl. He’s not going anywhere near you.”
“It’s not just him,” I sobbed. “It’s everything. It’s too much, and I can’t keep up. Every day, it’s something else, and—”
I felt like I was drowning. I wanted to be organized and do things the proper way, piece by piece, but every time I got one thing done, another three things popped up, pushing me down further.
“Evie!” Sebastian shouted, and I paused, taking a deep breath to steady myself.
He sighed deeply and shook his head. “This town is just a lot worse than you or anyone else realizes. The people in power make sure they weave themselves into as many things as they can so they can’t lose.
The game is rigged, Evie. We just gotta figure out how to cheat right there with them. ”
Sebastian held me until I stopped crying, and when I stepped back and wiped my face, he took my hand and directed me back toward hair and makeup.
“Don’t worry, Final Girl. There will come a payday, and when that day comes, we’re gonna be fucking rich.”
I could only hope.