Chapter 20

20

AMITY

I gulp a bottle of water while Nevaeh picks pieces of glass out of my hair, my eyes on the team breaking down some of the set to make it ready for the next scene.

"Tip your head down and shake it," she orders, taking the now-empty bottle from me. I do as she says.

"You need a shower," she tells me as I flip my head back up. "I don't even know how you got it in your hair when you were wearing a wig." She worries her lip.

"I'm fine, Pippin, promise. It's not real glass—it's just sugar."

Her shoulders relax. "So, you have candy in your hair?"

I chuckle. "Pretty much."

"I was expecting some high noon shoot-out between two people so I was surprised when I got here and saw the set they'd made. Those buildings looked so real, especially when you were throwing yourself out the damned window. I didn't even know windows had glass in the Wild West," she muses, her writer's brain kicking in. Any minute now, she'll pull out her phone to research it and end up falling down a rabbit hole.

"They did have windows with glass but it was considered a luxury so you wouldn't normally find it in places like the set is depicting, but this isn't a traditional Western. It's like the other movies in the franchise; it's set in an alternative universe so it can take certain liberties."

"Ahh, okay, that makes more sense because I did have some questions."

"Of course you did. Maybe just don't ask Stefan. He doesn't like people questioning his godliness."

She grins. "Who does? Okay, so I'm just supposed to forget everything I know is true, and everything will be fine? Like having a kick-ass woman schooling the men when women had hardly any rights back then?"

I nod. "Yep."

"Cool," she says, giving me two thumbs up.

I laugh. "Welcome to the magic of the movies, where sharks can travel by tornadoes and snakes like to fly on 747s. But it's worth pointing out that the Wild West was pretty lawless. Women didn't have to stick to the strict social norms they did in later eras. While some might have ended up as prostitutes, there were also female gunslingers."

She looks at me with wide eyes and an excited smile.

"You want to go write, don't you?"

"I can't help it if you inspire me."

I shake my head at her trying to butter me up.

"I love having you help out on set, but I don't need you here all the time. If inspiration strikes, go write. I'm going to go take a nap for a bit since I'm not needed on set again for a while anyway."

"Perfect! I found the library in town yesterday, so I'll go write there for a while."

I give her a hug. "Have fun. I'll text you when I'm wrapping up here."

"Okay, I'll pick up dinner. Something greasy for me and something bland for you," she says with a grin, making me huff.

"Just because something isn't covered in cheese doesn't mean it's bland."

"Nice try, but cheese is life, and you'll never change my mind."

"Wouldn't dream of it," I shout as she runs back to the RV to grab her bag and laptop.

"Hey, Spook."

I turn at the sound of my nickname and see Jack jogging toward me. "Hey, Jack."

"Gotta say, that last jump you did was a thing of beauty. It's not often we pull something like that off in one take."

I do a quick curtsy. "Why, thank you, kind sir."

He chuckles. "Don't mention it. So, we'll start setting up for the next stunt in an hour, but we're going to grab a bite to eat first if you want to join us."

I spot Nevaeh heading toward us with her bag over her shoulder.

"Okay, I'm off. Call me if you need anything, and I'll come right back."

"I managed alright without an assistant for years. I think I can handle the afternoon without you, even if I have gotten used to you spoiling me."

She sticks her tongue out at me and heads off with a wave to Jack.

"She's sweet and nothing like you at all."

"Why, Jack, are you saying I'm not sweet?"

His eyes widen, and he steps back, making me snicker. "What? No, of course not. I meant that she's quiet and timid, and you're…" His voice trails off as he winces.

I can't help it. I crack up. "Relax, I'm just messing with you. I know exactly what you mean. The funny thing is, she's actually the crazier one out of the two of us."

He looks at me skeptically, probably because I threw myself out of a window earlier.

"It's true. I'm an open book—what you see is what you get. But Nevaeh… She's sweet as sugar on the outside and crazy as shit on the inside. She'd have to be to put up with me." I smile.

He lets out a laugh, believing that last part at least. "Honestly, in my experience, most women have a crazy bitch button somewhere."

"That might be true, but it's only men that find that button and push it real hard. If men put that much effort into finding a woman's g-spot, they'd get blow jobs instead of blowback. Funny how that works out, huh?" I walk away. I know I'm being a bit harsh, but I'm dealing with a misogynistic motorcycle club, and Jack just accidentally pushed my button.

"So, food?" he calls out, making me roll my eyes.

"I'm gonna shower off the sugar glass and nap until I'm needed, but thanks anyway."

He mutters something, but I don't catch it and don't ask him to repeat it. I just keep walking toward the RV.

I'm just a few feet away when Monica steps in front of me, dressed exactly like I am but without the shards of glass in her hair.

"Yes, Monica?" I'm usually pretty chill, even when I want to shove someone's face into a blender. But today, my tolerance for bullshit is at an all-time low.

Maybe I've been exposed to assholes for too long and need a detox. Or maybe it was the talk with Jack. Either way, it's taking all my strength to stand here and plaster a fake-ass smile on my face.

"Those guys who were here?"

"There are a lot of guys here, Monica," I say, crossing my arms. "You'll need to be more specific."

"The criminals," she says, her voice dripping with disdain,

I drop my arms. "You mean the Raven Souls Motorcycle Club members? I'd be careful throwing around accusations like that. They might not appreciate it. Then again, guys like that probably don't even know who you are."

"What's the matter, Amity? Feeling a little threatened? After all, I'm the star. You're just the understudy."

I blink, letting her words sink in. "I'm your stunt double, Monica. I make sure you don't break a nail or lose your weave. This is a movie set, not a Broadway show. There are no understudies," I explain before stepping around her.

"Your attitude will leave me no choice but to talk to Stefan."

I shake my head. "Go ahead. You'll have to do your own stunts because finding someone else at such short notice who looks close enough to your height, weight, and coloring isn't as easy as you think. But that's fine. I'm sure you'll have a blast when you have to climb the mountain pass or do the fight scene on top of a runaway train."

She blanches. Monica might talk a big game, but she is terrified of heights. She can't even climb a ladder without passing out. There's no shame in that, but if she wants me to step in and do it for her, she can damn well keep her mouth shut around me unless it's about work.

"Just keep them away from me. I don't need to get caught in a drive-by."

"In a drive-by? Really? They're a motorcycle club, not a street gang. You should know better than to judge people by how they look. After all, you'd hate it if people treated you like a slut just because you dress like one."

She hisses at me, her eyes narrowing, but I continue before she can say anything else. "They're good men who protect people, both in physical security and cyber."

Her mouth snaps shut, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Yeah, exactly. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to shower the glass out of my hair and get some rest before my next scene. Unless you want to shoot it for me?"

When she doesn't say anything, I walk around her and stomp into my RV, heading straight for the shower. I silently curse the damn woman as I wash my hair, then climb out and wrap myself in my fluffy robe.

I walk out of the bathroom and over to the bed, face planting on it, hoping that sleep will cure my bad mood. I groan, wondering what the hell's wrong with me. I usually let things roll off my back, so why the fuck is everything bothering me today?

Thankfully, it doesn't take long to drift off. When I wake up, I feel a lot better, and I promise myself to add some yoga into my workout tomorrow. Hopefully, that'll help.

I sit up and stretch, feeling my robe slip open, reminding me I need to get dressed. I look over at the clock and curse when I realize I overslept. I might as well leave the robe on, head to wardrobe, and get ready for the next scene.

After freshening up, I pull on some clean underwear under my robe and slide my feet into a pair of flip-flops. I grab one of my pre-made shakes from the fridge and down it, hoping it will give me an energy boost, but I know I'll need a couple of shots of caffeine, too.

Tossing the bottle into the recycling, I tighten the belt of my robe and head out. I open the door of the RV and stop when I see G and Blade walking my way. Pulling the door closed behind me, I step down and walk over to G with a smile, already feeling more awake.

"Hey, handsome. I thought something might've come up."

He looks me over, taking in my outfit—or lack thereof—and adjusts himself before wrapping his arms around me. "Now that you mention it," he murmurs in my ear, making me grin.

"Amity," a deep voice says, interrupting us. I mentally remind myself that setting people on fire is frowned upon and plaster on a wide smile as I pull free of G and look at Blade.

He looks at my smile, which is as warm as the Arctic, and his lips twitch. "We were on our way back from visiting a friend, and I thought I'd tag along. You mind?"

"You gonna be nice to me? Because heads up, I'm cranky as fuck today."

"Period?"

"Don't get them. And just a friendly word of advice: don't assume a pissed-off woman's on her period, or you'll be the one bleeding."

"Noted. You need to get laid?"

I don't know if he's deliberately trying to push my buttons or if this is just Blade being Blade. Something tells me it's probably a bit of both.

"Thanks for the offer, but I've been getting some good dick lately."

G leans down and bites my shoulder where my robe has slipped.

I smack him on the back of the head, making him chuckle. "Behave."

"Maybe you're just hungry. Sunshine is hell on wheels when she is."

I pause, realizing I rushed out without breakfast this morning because I was running late, and I haven't had time for anything since.

"You might be onto something. I haven't eaten all day, but I did just have a shake, so that might help. Dammit, don't tell Nevaeh. She'll think I can't cope without her."

"Well, you forgot to eat, so maybe?—"

My glare cuts him off.

"How about I see what I can find for you and show you I can be a nice guy?" Blade offers, making me laugh.

"I'm not sure anyone would call you a nice guy. But okay, feed me, and I might downgrade you from giant porn sized dick to just dick."

He looks from me to G, who's now standing beside me. "She knows that I'm the president of a motorcycle club, right? And not just any president either, but the president of all the damn chapters?"

"Wow, humblebrag much?"

"I don't even know what that means," he mutters before turning away with a sigh and heading toward Craft Services.

"You're insane, you know that? Jokes aside, he really is as big of a deal as he claims, and he generally doesn't take shit from anyone."

I shrug. "So? I'm not any less of a person because I have a vagina, and that's the impression he gave me, which sucks because he's important to you and I want to like him."

He sighs. "I'd be lying if I said there isn't a part of him that forgets that outside the MC world, women have just as many rights as the rest of us."

I nod, letting it go. If Blade can be civil, then so can I. That's enough for now.

A commotion makes us both turn as Monica's trailer door slams against the siding. She runs outside half-dressed, looking around wildly, her eyes flooded with tears.

I take a step toward her. I might not like the woman, but I'm not a heartless bitch. Something's freaking her the fuck out.

She spots me and G and runs over to us, practically throwing herself into G's arms. He stiffens, keeping his arms out wide as he looks at me in shock. He's not the only one; I'm just as surprised. It was only a few hours ago that she was calling him a criminal and asking me to keep him away.

"Monica? What's wrong?"

She turns her head, tears running down her cheeks as G carefully extracts himself from her arms.

"You said he does security, right?"

I look at G, and he nods. "We do."

"Okay, I want to hire you," she whispers, holding out a letter with a shaky hand.

He takes the letter from her and looks down at it before looking back up at her. "Hire me for what?"

"To keep me safe."

"Safe from who?" Blade snaps as he walks up behind her, making her flinch.

She moves closer to G, wary of Blade, and she's got good reason. He looks like he eats children for breakfast and uses their bones to pick his teeth.

"My stalker," she whispers, her face going ghostly white as she sways.

I reach out to stop her from falling, but G's faster than me, wrapping his arm around her waist as she leans against him. I step closer and move the hair from her face as Blade takes the letter from G and reads it.

"My dearest Agatha, I cannot begin to express how happy I am that you've returned to me. I've spent this past year waiting for you, and now that you're here, I'm never letting you go.

"What the fuck is this?" Blade asks as Stefan notices that something's wrong and heads our way.

"I've been getting letters—some of them tame, some of them pretty graphic. When the, um… gifts started showing up with them, the studio started handling my fan mail. I thought he'd give up when he didn't get a response, but this was in my trailer. It's hand-delivered. He's here," she whispers as Stefan approaches us.

He spots the letter in Blade's hand and curses. "Son of a bitch."

"I take it you know what this is?" Blade says, lifting the letter as G pulls himself free of Monica again.

"Yeah, they started coming after the second movie." He runs his hands through his hair as Blade looks at me for more details.

"This movie is part of a franchise. Each movie is set in a different universe but features the same lead character, Agatha Alamanda. That's why it's called the Alamanda Chronicles . I've worked as Monica's body double since the first movie, but I didn't know about the stalker," I tell him, so he doesn't think I kept this from G.

"The studio kept it quiet," Stefan says. "We have involved the police, but they can't find anything. The letters usually come from all over the country, and up until now, they've never been delivered on set."

He looks at G and then at Blade. "This needs to be kept hush-hush. Not just because the media will swarm this town like a bunch of locusts, but because things like this tend to bring the other crazies out of the woodwork, making it harder for us to find the real stalker." He looks at me and sighs. "Head to wardrobe, Amity. They're waiting for you. I'll handle this. Remember, not a word."

I open my mouth to protest, but G shakes his head. "I'll be here when you come out. Go do what you've gotta do."

I move around Monica and press a kiss to his cheek, careful not to flash anyone, before walking over to wardrobe. I pause for a moment before I enter and turn to look back at G, but he's deep in discussion with Blade and Stefan.

My eyes drift to Monica, who has her head down and her arms wrapped around herself. If anyone had told me earlier that I'd ever feel sympathy toward her, I would've thought they were crazy. But now, seeing her look so lost, I can't help but hope they catch this guy before he hurts her.

I turn back and pull the door open just as my stomach growls, and I sigh. I never did get anything to eat. Dammit.