Chapter 26

TWENTY-EIGHT TAKES . That’s how many it took to get the love scene to Hunter’s satisfaction. Wearing nothing but a G-string and pasties and doused liberally in a sticky blend of rosewater and glycerin to replicate sweat, the awkwardness of the situation surpassed her expectations. Dirk was his usual charming self, and he kept losing his “sock” in the sheets, making a long day even longer. It had dragged on for hours, not ending until past 9 p.m.

Exhausted and freezing from the constantly blowing AC, Piper couldn’t get to her dressing room fast enough when Hunter called cut and wrapped for the night. After a lengthy, hot shower, she emerged to find the lights still on, but the hallway was eerily quiet—and empty.

She would have loved to see Tristan’s handsome face but was glad she’d said no to his offer. Having him here would have made the stressful, awkward day much worse.

A sense of unease crept over her as she scanned the corridor for Axyl. He should have been waiting, ready to escort her home. She dug through her purse for her phone to call him when she heard footsteps behind her.

Turning with a teasing comment on the tip of her tongue about him falling down on the job, she froze, seeing Morgan, rumpled as ever, standing at the end of the long hall. She saw him on set daily, but they hadn’t spoken since her audition. Piper always found him strange and, to be honest, avoided him.

“You’re working late.” She tried being friendly but got a weird feeling as he slowly approached and hoped—no, prayed—Axyl would appear. Where the heck was he?

“I work late a lot,” Morgan said in a sharp tone, close to a sneer. “Unlike you, the star, who is treated like a pampered pet. Must be nice.”

“Is something wrong?” she asked, shocked by his condescending manner.

“Oh yeah, Piper. There’s a lot fucking wrong.”

She recoiled at his language, although she had certainly heard the F-bomb before. Tristan and most of the Rossi guys occasionally let it fly, and there was plenty in the dialogue of the R-rated series. However, it was the first time she had heard it uttered by a crew member directly toward her. Piper glanced behind him, anxiously surveying the hallway. It was just the two of them.

The sense of danger grew with each step he took toward her. Slowly, she backed away, wondering if she could reach the rear stairwell ahead of him. It was worth chancing it because instinct told her to get out of there.

“Don’t be stupid. You’ll never make it,” he spat then raised his arm to wipe his mouth with his sleeve. That’s when Piper saw the knife in his hand and the bright-red bloodstains spattering his shirt.

“Axyl,” she whispered. Then, more loudly, “What have you done to him?”

“I carved on your pretty-boy bodyguard a bit. It’s what he deserved, getting involved with a skank like you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would you hurt Axyl? He was just doing his job by protecting me.”

“Not very well, obviously.” He smirked.

“Tell me where he is,” Piper demanded frantically. “I need to get him some help before it’s too late. You wouldn’t want his murder on your hands, surely.”

Her heart raced as she watched his face darken with anger. “You act so innocent,” he hissed, his tone cold and accusatory. “But I know the truth about you. I also know all about you and Hunter and what you did to get your role.” Piper couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “That didn’t happen. You’ve got it all wrong.”

“I don’t think so. You see, I’ve been watching you for weeks.” Morgan’s lips curled into a sinister sneer as he moved closer. “I gave you the benefit of the doubt at first, thinking a small-town girl might not know how things are. Dressing like a whore, attracting negative attention.”

“You wrote those notes, didn’t you?”

“I did, but you didn’t take my warnings seriously. You think you can use your body to get ahead in this world without consequences, but not anymore.”

She stepped back, both hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “This is insane. You need help. Please, put down the knife.”

His eyes blazed with rage. “No! You don’t get to play the victim here. You came to town flaunting your tits and ass in front of Hunter and spreading your legs to get that role. It isn’t fair. I’ve put in the work for three years, kissing Hunter’s ass, fetching his coffee, and doing whatever scut work he can’t get anyone else to do. And you waltz in, fresh off the turnip truck from bum-fucked Iowa and get a lead role without breaking a sweat.”

“It isn’t true. I was here for months and rejected more times than I can count. And I never slept with anyone to get anything.”

“Right,” he drawled with a curled upper lip. “I suppose all the times I saw you slink out of Hunter’s condo you weren’t leaving his bed.”

“I was having coffee with his niece. We’re friends.”

“I’ve got you on tape making out with one of your bodyguards on your front porch. How convenient the agency sends boy toys right to your door.”

“That was Tristan, my...uh, boyfriend.”

“I know all about Tristan Rogers. That SOB is a loner, and no way is he anyone’s boyfriend, which makes you a liar and a slut.” He sneered with the last word, spit flying again with his contempt. Piper flinched to avoid the spray, but he went on, not caring. “Does Hunter know you’re carrying on with a revolving door of men behind his back? How many are you doing it with? Or are gangbangs your thing? Is that how you like it at your kink club?”

“You’re wrong. None of what you think is true!” But she might as well have saved her breath. Morgan’s expression remained cold and unforgiving. Nothing was getting through to him.

“I’m going to do you a favor. No one in Hollywood will hire you once I slice up that pretty face. Maybe I’ll carve a big A on your forehead. Then when you go home and sit in the first pew of your daddy’s church on Sundays, the congregation will know to pray for your whore’s soul.” Suddenly, he smacked the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Oh, wait. I forgot. You won’t be going home to repent because you’ll be dead.”

The amount of detail he knew about her was horrifying. Surely, Hunter wouldn’t have disclosed so much. But those were questions for another time—if she had another time.

“You’ve got me all wrong,” Piper said as she backed away, her mind racing for a way to escape since no one seemed to be coming to save her.

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid? I watched you roll around in the sheets naked with Dirk for hours today. I guess he makes the fourth man you’re juggling. Doesn’t he, Jezebel?”

“I was playing a part today. You know that. Please, you’re obviously a spiritual man. Put down the knife, and we’ll go someplace and talk. Maybe to church.”

His footsteps echoed ominously as he advanced, the knife glinting in the dim light. “It’s too late for that. You’ve crossed a line, and now you have to face the consequences. Say your prayers, if you remember how because your time is up.”

Piper’s heart pounded in her chest as Morgan raised the knife, a look of pure hatred in his eyes. As he lunged toward her, she whirled and ran for her life.

“Good. Make it more fun for me,” he said as he gave chase.

A loud bang from behind her had her screaming. Did the psycho also have a gun?

Another bang ahead of her stopped her short. But it wasn’t gunshots. It was the door at the end of the hall being kicked in. Tristan and two other men from Rossi stormed into the hall.

“Piper! Get down!” he shouted as all three men raised their weapons.

She didn’t have to think about following orders or diving to the ground. Having three guns trained on her, something she didn’t imagine would happen in her entire life, paralyzed her with fear. Her legs buckled, and she stumbled forward, tripping over her feet. The impact on the floor knocked the breath from her lungs and choked off her screams.

Beside her, she heard a heavy thud followed by a string of furious curses. Piper glanced over and saw Morgan, his bloody face pressed against the tile beneath Axyl’s crushing weight.

“Drop the knife, you crazy son of a bitch. Or one of us is gonna put a fucking bullet through your head.” When he stupidly didn’t comply, Axyl viciously twisted Morgan’s wrist and slammed his knife hand against the floor. When the wicked-looking blade clattered on the tile, a black boot kicked it away.

Confused and still terrified with everything happening so fast, Piper scrambled away from the grappling men. But she didn’t get far. Hands encircling her upper arms had her screaming again.

“Easy, sunshine. You’re safe.”

No one in LA ever called her that except...

Twisting, she looked up into eyes the color of steel but also filled with concern. “Tristan,” she sobbed, launching herself at him. When her body slammed against his, her arms snaked around his neck, clinging for dear life.

“It’s over. He can’t hurt you,” he whispered into her hair, hugging her close as if he wouldn’t ever let go, which would be perfectly fine with her.

The hall filled with people as security and the police arrived, quickly securing the scene. Paramedics tended to Axyl, who had a bloody gash on his temple where Morgan had hit him twice and rendered him temporarily unconscious. He also had several defensive knife wounds on his arms.

They checked out her homicidal stalker, too. He looked like a gunshot victim, with blood covering him everywhere, but the police quickly cuffed him and hauled him away. The blood wasn’t his; it was all Axyl’s.

“What about you, miss?” a paramedic asked.

“I’m fine. Other than my wrist being a little sore from where I tried to catch myself when I fell, he never touched me.”

“Can I see? To be on the safe side?”

She shook her head. That would mean letting go of Tristan. “I’ll ice it when I get home.”

Gently, Tristan pulled her arms from around his neck. “I’m not going anywhere. Let him look.”

The area appeared swollen and was sensitive to the touch, but she had no trouble moving it or her fingers. She adamantly declined to go to the emergency room for X-rays, as the paramedic recommended, assuring him she would see her doctor if it wasn’t better the next day. Despite his unsuccessful attempts to convince her otherwise, he punched an instant ice pack for her before going to help load Axyl, who was the size of the two EMTs combined, into the ambulance.

If Tristan believed her wrist was broken, she had no doubt she’d be on her way to the hospital with Axyl instead of sitting on his lap, waiting for Detective Lloyd.

With her crazed stalker out of sight and Axyl safely on his way for treatment, she released her death grip on Tristan’s T-shirt. She smoothed out the wrinkles, calm enough now to ask questions. “How did you know we were in trouble?”

“Axyl wasn’t responding, which is always a bad sign.”

“I can’t believe it was Morgan. I barely knew him. He read the other part during my audition, but other than that, we never spoke.”

“Did he say why?”

“He resented me for finding a part so quickly after coming to LA. The rest was a hateful, misogynist rant that didn’t make a lot of sense. He was a bit of an oddball during the audition, but nothing like tonight. And I can’t believe Hunter would have kept him around for years if he was unstable. Something inside him must have made him snap.”

“I think you may be right, Piper,” Detective Lloyd agreed as he walked up. “Or he was good at masking his true self.”

She didn’t want to, but she sat up to talk to him, not leaving Tristan’s lap. They’d have to pry him away from her first.

“We don’t know much about Morgan Perry’s past before coming to LA, but not long after, he had a disorderly conduct charge, which was dropped on the condition of treatment.”

“What kind of treatment?” she asked.

“That usually means mental health,” Tristan supplied.

“We have a team at his place. I’m heading over there now. Did you know he lives in the same complex as you two?”

“What? Where?”

Detective Lloyd gave her the address.

“That’s right behind us,” Tristan stated, still fuming. “That sick fuck has been watching her all along.” He only confirmed what they had all suspected, but the unsettling discovery that Morgan had been lurking so close to their back door made the twisted situation even more disturbing and obscene.

“Most likely. We’ll see what we find. We’ll also question friends and family if there are any. Hopefully, we’ll have the full story soon.” His hand curled around Piper’s shoulder. “The good thing is you’re safe and unharmed, and he will be in lockup, either in a psych ward or at County, for a while.” He looked at Tristan. “Can I speak with you for a minute?”

He nodded, but when he tried lifting her from his lap, the death grip on his T-shirt returned.

“I’ll be right over there,” he reassured her as he pried her fingers away. “Not out of sight for a second.”

She knew she was acting clingy, but felt it was deserved after what she’d just been through.

Tristan followed the detective away a few paces, just out of earshot. She couldn’t hear what Lloyd said, but from his body language, the news wasn’t to his liking.

She was nervously pacing when the detective left a few minutes later, and he came back to her. “You’re free to go home, but they’ll need a formal statement.”

“What couldn’t he tell me?”

He hesitated for a moment, clearly weighing how much to say.

She gripped his T-shirt again, her nails digging in. At this rate, she’d have to buy him a new one. “Please, Tristan. My life has been out of control for the past few weeks. I need to know.”

He slid his hand under her hair and curled his fingers around her nape, and she braced for something really bad when his thumb lightly stroked the side of her neck. “He was an amateur photographer with long-range zoom lenses on several cameras and a darkroom where he developed his photos.”

“Of me,” she acknowledged. “That’s creepy, but it doesn’t require a word alone with you. There’s more.”

“Piper—”

She tugged on his shirt, desperate to know all of it. “What else did he tell you?”

“There were hundreds of photos. Enough, according to Lloyd, to wallpaper his room. Some were from inside your bedroom.”

It sounded like something out of a horror movie, a genre she’d never cared for. Now, it had become her life.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

His arms wrapped her up tight. “Breathe, Piper. He’s in custody. It’s going to be all right.”

She tried drawing in deep breaths and blowing them out slowly. It stopped her from hyperventilating but did nothing for the waves of nausea, knowing Morgan, the sicko, had been where she slept.

“They’re sending a team to your place to search for a camera. It’s now a crime scene. You can’t go back there tonight.”

“I don’t want to!” A violent shudder passed through her. “I feel dirty. I need a long, hot, extra-soapy shower.”

He slid an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward the elevator. “Let’s get you home, so you can do that.”

“But... You just said it’s a crime scene.”

“To my place. You and Jaxx are with me again tonight.”

She slid her arms around his waist, hugging him from the side as they walked. Not clinging as tightly but not ready to let him go anytime soon. The few minutes he’d been out of reach with the detective were way too long as it was.

He let one of the Rossi men drive his SUV back to the office and took her home in her car. Riding in the passenger seat was strange, but she was grateful for his presence. She was still shaken up, her hands trembling, and she wouldn’t have been safe. Tristan didn’t seem like the type of guy to ride shotgun anyway.

On top of a long, stressful day, the intense drama left Piper wiped out. She sat staring out the window, watching the blur of lights pass by while cradling her injured wrist, which was throbbing now. She needed ibuprofen and more ice. Despite her exhaustion, she shifted positions every few seconds, unable to sit still.

“You’re restless.”

His observation suddenly filling the silence jarred her frazzled nerves, and she jumped.

Tristan curved his hand around her thigh and glanced at her hands. “Maybe you should have gone to the ER to get checked out.”

“My wrist is okay. But I feel strange. Like I might collapse from exhaustion any second now, but like I’m coming out of my skin at the same time.”

“You’re crashing. Talk to me.”

“Crashing how?”

“When we came in, you were running for your life. You were experiencing a fight-or-flight adrenaline rush, which is normal. Unfortunately, what goes up must come down. This is the letdown after the surge, the same way sub drop sometimes happens after subspace.”

With a sigh, she uncrossed her legs only to cross them again on the other side. “I’ve gotta admit, I prefer flying from the feel-good chemicals and the wonderful floaty feeling that follows.”

“If your wrist weren’t injured, I’d take care of that for you.”

She glanced over at him suddenly. “How?”

“How do you think?”

On board with his cure, especially since it would distract her from her thoughts, she insisted, “It’s okay. Really.” But she winced when she tried to move it, proving it wasn’t.

“An increased pain threshold is often part of the rush. Like Axyl wasn’t feeling the slices in his arms. Nothing we said could convince him not to go after Morgan with us.” His fingers flexed, giving her thigh a little squeeze. “Your wrist is throbbing now, isn’t it?”

“A little,” she admitted.

“After a hot bath, ice for that wrist, and a glass of wine, you’ll feel better. If not, you think I’m good with shoulders, wait until you experience a full-body massage.”

Forget about wine and ice. More than anything, she wanted his hands kneading away the jumpy, jittery feeling that lingered. She pressed her good hand to her chest, hoping to ease the ache there, too. It wasn’t from the fall or the intense drama but because she was head over heels for the man beside her. And he felt something, too. With everything going on, she didn’t miss how he’d called her sunshine, and he hadn’t objected when she planted herself in his lap and practically glued herself to his body.

It went above and beyond concern for a client, a neighbor with benefits, or a play partner. So, how did she get him to see it as love without risking pushing him away?