Chapter 19
19
KILLIAN
R aine chokes on her next breath when she hears me introduce myself as her boyfriend. But after inhaling and exhaling her surprise, she doesn’t contradict me.
“Connected to Raine, great,” Malenus says, either unaware or ignoring Raine’s pained expression. “You’ve got the exact look I want, Killian. Any acting experience?”
“None.” Unless you count pretending I’m not a sociopath.
He waves away my lack of experience with a gesture. “Doesn’t matter. I’d still love for you to audition.” Malenus nods, studying me like he’s a botanist who’s discovered a rare plant.
Finally, he turns back to Raine. The fact that he can’t stop smiling at her makes me want to break his nose. The fact that she idolizes him makes me want to cut his throat. Then pull down her panties and spank her before I fuck her while he bleeds out.
Malenus turns back to Leighton Miller who’s glowering in the corner. “Can we use the kitchen, Leighton? I need to have an informal meeting with Raine. Twenty minutes at most, and then we can finish the tour. ”
Miller looks like he too wants to punch Owen Malenus in the face. “Sure,” he says tightly. He clenches his glutes as he walks like he’s got a stick up his ass. Who is this dickhead?
The kitchen’s a decent size, but not as big as I’d expect for a frat house. Even being an old building shouldn’t matter since it’s been remodeled in the past couple of decades.
There’s an island with bar stools. It’s not as nice as the one at our place, but it’ll do. There’s also a table and chairs that might be antiques. I don’t like used furniture, valuable or not.
Malenus pulls out a stool for Raine.
“Thanks for driving me,” she says to me as she sits.
Not subtle, I think, suppressing the small smile that threatens to form. I always have the upper hand in public because she’s too nice to call me out.
“Can you stay?” Malenus asks me, helping where he probably shouldn’t. “Or have you got a class?”
“I’ll stay.”
I’d like to sit between them, but I know that won’t fly. Instead, I sit across from them.
Miller, who’s been relegated to barista, looks livid.
Malenus swivels to face Raine, and she mirrors the move. I lean forward to be sure his knees don’t brush hers. He already shook her hand. That’s more than enough touching.
“First, call me Owen.” His hand touches his chest before dropping to the counter. “Next, I watched your short film Carpet four times. You made such good choices. Shooting from the floor, so we see the grain of the carpet and the extreme close-ups of the baby’s face. Building the tension. Then, the slow reveal. Nice. Really nice.” He leans a hair closer. Too close. “You need to enter it. I’ll give you a list of festivals.”
Raine’s hands come up to cover her mouth, and she looks like she’s going to cry.
I resist the urge to shove the guy off his stool.
“Good job,” he says in a softer voice, nodding. “Yeah. I know. First time getting great feedback from someone you really respect, it’s big. I know.” He pauses. “No need to say anything. I get it.” Then, he pauses again .
She turns her head toward the empty table in the corner, and I see her swallow. He made her feel something intense and important. Jealousy, sharp as a blade, cuts through me. Normally, Raine’s ambition doesn’t bother me, not even when it steals her focus. Having to compete for her attention is fine with me. I always win eventually. But Malenus is a new kind of threat.
Raine turns back toward him, her composure restored.
“Look,” he says in a conspiratorial whisper that causes her to lean in to him .
My fingers stretch. It would be easy for them to curl into fists right now, but strategically, violence would be a bad move on my part. This douchebag could be important to Raine’s career. She’d be furious if I disrupted things. She’d withdraw… And see it as proof I’m incapable of change. Counter to the mission, and more. I clench my teeth, trying to ride out my frustration.
Malenus’s crooked smile reappears, a perfect target if I were going to allow myself to punch him. “I promised the dean I would take on a couple of students. It’s a good credit for the school. I didn’t really think I’d find anyone who—anyway, you’re gonna work on my new project with me. I’ve decided you’re the only one from the film and media program I’m taking, because I can’t have one student coming to production meetings and another getting coffee. So, you’re it.”
Her eyes light up like Times Square. Luckily, their attention is on each other, so they don’t spot my cold, assessing gaze.
“If you agree, Raine, we’ll pull you out of the freshman classes. You can take them next semester or next year. You’ll be assigned to me, and you’ll get internship credit along with a salary. The money won’t be much, but that’s beside the point, right?”
She nods.
“Good.” He nods, too. Needlessly. “I’ll call the dean of the arts college, and let him know it’s a go. You’ll spend the next day or two handling the admin of dropped classes and all that. Then, you’ll get started working with us.”
Miller sets a latte in front of Malenus. “Anyone else?” Miller asks. The guy’s tone is civil, but he looks like it’s taken a year off his life to keep it that way .
Raine shakes her head. She might be speechless.
“I’ll take one,” I say.
I’m almost positive Miller is going to deck me. Instead, after a lengthy pause, he goes back to a coffee machine that looks like it used to work at Starbucks. A commercial set-up like that probably set them back fifteen grand. Rich boys and their rich boy toys.
After a beat, I remember I’m rich, too, now. I can buy Raine a machine that makes tea lattes as well as Espresso Yourself’s does. It’s not a film project, but along with the necklace, it’s a start.
Malenus drinks his coffee. “Everyone who works on this is going to sign a confidentiality agreement. It’s standard for me. I like to release details on my own timeline, not see them as a headline in Film Voice or Entertainment Now .” He drones on for another five minutes in between sips.
The cup Miller gives me has no fancy foam in it, which suits me. I drink my coffee black anyway. I gulp it down as Malenus stands.
When he leans over to talk to Raine, he says, “There is gonna be some content that’s tough, but Carpet was gritty, so I know you can handle it.”
My eyes narrow. Tough content, meaning what? Also, Raine, gritty? Since fucking when? The girl’s sunrise on a white sand beach. I need to watch her short film. She must have made it using GU’s equipment and stored it on its network because I never spotted raw footage or the final product on her devices.
“All right, Leighton, take us on a tour of the other floors,” Malenus says.
“Not the basement. That’s excluded from filming, remember?” Miller says tightly.
Malenus argues for access but finally relents when Miller gets testy. Apparently, in Miller’s mind, blue blood and a trust fund trump an Oscar nomination.
My gaze immediately locks onto the heavy wooden door that leads downstairs, wondering what the Lambda Deltas have to hide. At one point, this place housed a future sadistic killer. I wouldn’t be surprised to find a dungeon with bondage furniture, but it could just be an archaic meeting room where they do their hazing .
Once the basement question is settled, Miller takes us upstairs, saying he can only show unoccupied rooms. That’s gotta be most of them, not that I care. So far, Wilson’s the only Lambda target we’ve been assigned to kill. The rest of them are free to go on breathing.
The bedrooms are standard-looking and boring. Bed, dresser, lamp. Beige paint. The crown molding is the only thing that’s a nod to the house’s reputation for power and privilege.
We cross a large open area on the second floor that looks down on the great room and front entry. I run my hand over the smooth bannister, enjoying the vantage. I like heights.
When we reach the opposite end of the floor, there’s an old stairwell. Dark wood panel and the musty smell make it feel original to the house.
Wood steps creak underfoot as we descend. Framed photographs line the walls, and I’m two-thirds of the way down when I spot a familiar face.
I stop and study it. Dark brown hair that’s just starting to prematurely recede. Lips so thin they disappear when he smiles. He’s younger in the picture by six or seven years at least, but it’s him.
Fucking NightOn from the Side app.