Chapter 15
Fifteen
Sterling
The machete was real. Blood is spraying everywhere and everyone is staring at me with a look of horror as I stand there with a dripping blade.
My heart is nearly wanting to escape my chest, and there’s a delicious shiver running through me.
No. That’s the wrong response. Yet I’m smiling on the inside and can’t stop, stiffening my expression to keep it from seeping through.
Everyone is screaming and the weapon slips from my fingers, hitting the floor with a clink. The loud noise echoes around me. Bodies scatter and frantic expressions filling the room.
“Sterling.” Someone calls my name but I can’t make out the voice, everything coming at meout like static.
Kathy is holding her arm to her chest, the bottom half barely hanging on.
What have I done? I could have stopped this, but I didn’t.
I lifted the handle high above my head and brought it down with a quick swipe.
A scream curled in the air and I did it again.
Then everything went foggy as I realized I was making real cuts and her skin was tearing from the bone.
“Call nine one one,” Lisa shouts. “Someone, someone please help Sterling. I think he’s in shock.
I could have killed someone. I look over at Hayden and his camera light is still green. Is he getting all this? Did he forget to hit stop? Why isn’t he freaking out like everyone else?
My name is called again, and I blink my eyes as one of the other actors lays a hand on my arm. “Sterling. Let me take you back to your trailer. We’ll get you some water.”
I don’t move, my face wet and body shaking. My lips tremble in the corners and I can’t take my eyes off the camera still filming. I could have killed her, and the only thing I’m upset with myself over is the fact that I didn’t.
A darkness twists inside me and I touch my face, smearing the blood over other parts of my skin while someone pulls me by my arm.
They’re worried about me when they should be worried about something else—whatever’s happening inside me.
I look back, reaching my hand out, and some guy assures me Kathy is going to be okay, saying, “It’s not your fault.
Lisa should never have continued to film after the first incident. ”
I nod, looking back again, but it’s not at Kathy.
It’s because the right person hasn’t called cut yet, and I haven’t given him the best part.
He might not realize it, but I know I haven’t.
What will happen when I keep showing his camera who I am and finally give him what I couldn’t today? What I need to.
What’s happening to me? Justin sits me on my bed but I don’t even remember getting here. I look down at my aching feet, and my red hands stain the sheets.
“We should get you cleaned up,” he says and I shift uncomfortably, scooting back with my knees folding to my chest. I don’t want his help, but my mouth won’t open enough for me to say so.
“Hey.” A voice comes from behind him and I look up to meet Hayden’s dark eyes. “Actually, Justin, Lisa said she needs you back in the main building. I can take care of it from here.”
“You sure? I can come back after—”
“I’m sure,” he says, patting him on the back, and once Jason is out of the trailer, Hayden locks the door, turning to me with a soft expression.
“Hey there, my little idol. You hanging in there okay?”
My heart stops. What did he say? I couldn’t have heard him right.
The note from my crazed fan flashes in my mind.
Isn’t that what he called me? He’d understand what I was feeling right now.
His gifts told me he would. He knew what he was doing by sending them.
I hadn’t used them, because they weren’t meant to be used yet.
So far, the camera’s only caught me using the wrong ones, and the blood wasn’t red enough.
It wasn’t real. What’s sticking to my skin now is very real and I need to be sick over it.
But I’m not. Instead, I’m sitting here wanting to hear the wrong thing from Hayden’s lips.
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“I think it would be better to get you in the shower. Do you have one in here?”
I shake my head. “I want to go home.”
“We can do that. I can take you wherever you want.”
“Is the movie over?” My stomach tightens.
“Yeah,” he says, almost looking as disappointed as me. That can’t be right. Unless he really needed the money and he’ll be short now. “I’m afraid so,” he continues. “Kathy was taken away by ambulance, and Lisa wanted to make sure you were okay too.”
“I hurt her.”
“No.” He shakes his head, lowering himself to the floor. “Whoever switched out the prop did.”
“I think I knew.” What am I doing? Why am I telling him this? “I thought I was being paranoid because of the other times,” I lie, trying to save face.
His expression is flat and unreadable, eyes unblinking. “Yeah, I could see that. It’s not your fault either way.”
“I kept going . . . I . . .” I lick my lips without thinking about it, the metallic taste of the blood zinging on my tongue like it’s a trophy I could swallow down and keep with me forever.
Yeah, I’ve gone off the fucking rails. It’s the shock, like they said.
I went through trauma too and it’s throwing me for a loop.
“You didn’t know, baby. You thought it was all part of the film.”
“It didn’t look like fake blood.”
“Hey.” His tone shifts as he squeezes my knee. “Look at me. It’s not your fault.”
“I’ll never be in another movie again, will I?” Looks like I didn’t need to be seen with Hayden to ruin myself.
“Of course you will. This is only a small hiccup. You’ll get past it. Kathy’s fine and no one is blaming you.”
“I should have been in that ambulance with her.”
“I don’t think you’re in any shape for that right now. Let’s get you clean, fed, and after a good night’s rest, we can send her some flowers and wait until she’s ready for visitors.”
“Yeah . . .” My breaths shorten. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Let’s get you to your feet first.” He offers me his hand and I quickly take it.
Pulling me to my feet, he wraps an arm around me and guides me out the door.
We don’t go through the building, and instead we walk around it to get to the parking lot.
His phone goes off once we’re in the car, and his face hardens after he answers it.
“What? Is she insane? She can’t be serious.” He looks at me. “No way he’ll be ready for that, and what about Kathy? This seems in really bad taste.” His tone comes off nonchalant.
Weird. But also . . . wait. Are they suggesting what I think they are?
Hayden’s jaw tightens and he looks at me.
“He’s barely talking right now and probably needs to talk to a therapist after this.
” He pauses a beat. “And what if he says no?” He sighs, nodding.
“Yeah. Yeah.” He looks up at the ceiling.
“Sure. I’ll let him know Lisa’s lost her fucking mind. Alright. Uh-huh. Bye.”
“What was that about?” I swallow hard, bile rising in my throat because I’ve already put together in my head what he’s going to say.
“They want to finish the movie.”
“What?” My jaw drops.
“Seeing that it was one scene away from being done and all. I think it’s a bad idea, but Lisa was pretty insistent. Everyone else seems to be in so far.”
“And Kathy?”
“Stunt double. And they said if they have to, they’ll get one for you and have the character do the last almost kill scene in a mask before the victim gets the weapon from him and beats him at his own game.”
There was always a weird emptiness left in me when the victim got away at the end, ruining the killer’s best scene.
It was alarming at first, and then I reminded myself it was all part of submerging myself in the role.
And that’s what’s going on with me now, isn’t it?
My habit of not breaking character until the movie is over.
These aren’t real feelings. They can’t be.
“I’ll do it,” I say, my stomach feeling like a claw machine is lowering inside it.
“You sure?” He lowers his eyes at me.
“Yeah. As long as you’re there too.”
His lips twist and he nods. “Yeah, I can be wherever you need me to be.”
“With your camera on?”
His eyes flicker with what looks like curiosity. “With my camera on, pointing at you and set to record.”
I smile and he strokes my cheek before starting the engine. He pulls out of the parking lot, and when we arrive at my place, I step out of the car, my feet sticking to the ground as I go rigid.
He walks around the car to me, his eyes swimming with concern. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“I never told you where I lived.”
He smiles. “Yeah, I found out from one of the assistants. She said you sent her to grab some things for you once before.”
“Oh.” My chest settles. “Right.” One side of my lips lift. “I guess I forgot we worked with the same people.”
“It’s okay. It’s hard to think clearly right now, I’m sure. Ready to go inside and get out of those clothes?”
I look down and back at him. “Yes, please.” But I’m not sure I am. It’s because the scene isn’t done and the actor in me knows that. There’s no other rational explanation for it.
“When are they filming the last scene now?” I ask, following him up the porch steps and stopping when he does.
“Next week. She thinks everyone will be better to continue after a short break. I think it should be longer, but that’s just me.”
“The sooner the better,” I say. “Then I can go on my vacation, and reschedule my spot on the Tonight Show so I can get some much-needed lake therapy.
“Lake therapy sounds good.”
“Know any lakes around here where I can hide out until I feel ready to come up for air again?” It feels like too long until his answer comes.
He twists my key in the knob and grins. “Yeah, actually. I know the perfect place.”
“Yeah, I figured you might.”
He kisses my hair, dragging me forward, and when he’s locking the door, I watch as he puts the key back in his pocket. “When did I give you my key?”
“In the trailer. Did you forget?”
“I . . . I guess so.”
His forehead wrinkles. “I’m only holding onto it until it’s time for us to head back to the studio. In case I need to leave to get you anything or pick stuff up from my hotel.”
“You’re going to stay here with me?”
“I . . . I don’t have to if you don’t—”
My fingers lock around his wrist. “I do. Please stay.” I want to say, “Stay, and make more movies with me,” but I don’t, in case it’s too soon.
He lets me lead the way to my room and helps me out of my clothes, then we get into the shower together after he makes sure the water is warm enough.
Stepping in after me, he pours shampoo into his hand and washes my hair.
He grabs my loofah next and scrubs my skin clean, the water around my feet going from light red to clear.
“Thanks for coming here with me.”
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now.”
“Why’s that?” I say, blinking up at him as he pushes wet strands of hair from my eyes.
“Because I couldn’t do all this for you if I was, and you needed it.”
“I could have asked someone else. Justin was offering to—”
He cuts me off with a sharp stare. “And why would I want it to be anyone else when it could be me?”
“I . . . I don’t know why you’d want to even come back and stay here with me after what happened.”
“Because you don’t need to be alone right now, and like I said, it wasn’t your fault.”
“And why else?” My voice strains.
“I didn’t want Justin to keep touching you. I want to be the only one to do that.”
“What if I wanted Justin to?”
His expression turns to stone. “Did you?”
“No. I just wanted to see the reaction I’d get from you thinking I might.” I smirk and he lets out a disgruntled sound.
“Brat.” He spanks my ass lightly and I grab his face, smashing my mouth to his.
He lifts me by the hips, holding me to the wall with his cock gliding over mine.
He grinds harder against me, using his fingers to stroke us together, and I moan into his mouth.
He swallows it down, our sounds vibrating between our tangling tongues, and I come on a cry only seconds later, my body sparking like a live wire, the smell of blood in the air adding to the euphoric sensation.
He keeps fucking against me and uses me to reach his own orgasm until I’m completely desensitized.
After he rinses us both off, he turns off the water and wraps a towel around me before grabbing one for himself.
He helps me out of the tub and to the kitchen table, where he opens his bag and pulls out two sandwiches, looking at me with a half-smile.
“Because your manager interrupted us before we could get to them earlier.”
I chuckle, shifting in the chair until I’m comfortable, and he sits in the closest one beside me, yanking me close enough for our hips to bump.
Tangling my legs with his, I lift my sandwich from the brown-paper wrapper and take my first bite.
Neither of us says a thing as we eat beside each other.
We don’t have to. I never have to do anything I don’t feel like doing with him, and he’s always okay that I don’t. Almost like he encourages it.