Page 29 of Holy Sinner

I shiver when I hear him say ‘my woman’ but I do my best not to dwell on it, especially given the circumstances. A psycho is stalking me. It’s one thing when it’s my boyfriends, but other than that?

No fucking way.

“It’s not her fault,” I remind him. “You know it isn’t. They sent her because she’s not responsible. Don’t yell at her.”

Rafe glowers but the second his eyes come to me he backs down and sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“Not me. Her.”

His dark eyes flash but he does as I ask. “I’m sorry, Jane,” he says and I’m surprised that he knows her name. I didn’t think he would but I should know better. Rafe pays far more attention then he lets on.

“I, ah, it’s okay.” Jane gives us a weak smile and her eyes are on me when she speaks. “The producers know this has been getting worse and the director is about to lose it over someone leaking photos. They want to move production to stop this.”

My eyes widen. “We’re moving locations?”

She nods. “Yeah, they want to find a new location. Smaller crew–just the essentials and have them rotate on a weekly basis.”

I shake my head, trying to make sense of the plan Jane is laying out. Something like that would take resources. It would definitely increase the budget for the film and increase the filming time.

“What? Why would they-”

“Because they want to figure out who is leaking the photos,” Rafe interrupts, wrapping his arm around my waist. He gives me a squeeze and nods. “I like it. They’re doing it because they can’t risk someone giving first looks at scenes and fucking up the release. When are they going to move us out?” he asks Jane.

“ASAP,” she says and jerks her thumb over her shoulder. “They sent me to get you and to see if you could get a hold of Grant. No one can right now, not even his agent. They were hoping that because of your, er, close relationship that you would have better luck.”

Rafe sighs and pulls his phone out as he rises to his feet, dragging me with him. “Yeah, I hear you. I’ll get our idiot boyfriend on his way back here.”

Jane blushes at Rafe’s words but he doesn’t even register it as he hits Grant’s contact and holds his phone up to his ear. It’s only a second later that he’s speaking to Grant. “Get your ass back to the lot. We’re moving out.”

I hear Grant’s muffled voice and Rafe replies, “It’s to keep Kit safe. More photos dropped.” Grant doesn’t answer. Instead, I just hear silence and I know he hung up. Rafe nods at Jane. “Let’s get moving. He’ll be here.”

Jane gives us a tense smile and turns on her heel. “I’ll take you to the producers. They have a location in mind but the director is going to have the final say, I think.”

“He better not make us camp. I hate camping,” Rafe mutters.

I smile and slip my hand into his. “I like camping.”

He falls silent and then looks down at me. “Yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah. I used to camp a lot in college but I haven't in years.”

“What do you like about camping?” Rafe asks me and again, he’s intense and focused but it’s different. There’s no coldness to him, no razor sharp focus when I know he’s going to try and take someone’s head off. He’s smiling at me warmly with the kind of soft look in his eyes that reminds me that he’s obsessive, but he’s obsessed with me.

Chapter Fourteen

GRANT

Some fucker thinks he can get to Kit right under my nose. I grip the steering wheel tight and slam the gas pedal down to the floor. The engine revs as it fights to catch up with my speeding while I whip my truck around another corner on the way back to the production lot.

I’d been on my way back from dealing with Aaron Jamie when Rafe called me.

“Get your ass back to the lot. We’re moving out.”

Normally those would be fighting words because that fucker doesn’t tell me to do shit but I let it slide when he said, “It’s to keep Kit safe. More photos dropped.”

I don’t say shit. Just hang up the phone and focus on the road. There’s more cars than usual out on the road leading to the remote lot. The increased traffic is the sun’s doing. There’s nothing that sends the sun-starved denizens of Seattle in search of a nature trail like the sun’s warmth. My fingers twitch when a slow driver pulls into my lane and hits their brakes immediately.

“Motherfucker.” I take in a calming breath and let it out before repeating the breathwork again. The car’s brake lights in front of me flash again and I force myself to inhale and exhale slowly. I can’t lose my cool and run the shitty little electric car off the road like I want to. If I do that, I’m not going to be with Kit like I’m supposed to be.

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