Page 30 of Holy Sinner

I fucking hate not being with her, but Aaron Jamie needed ending. I take another deep breath, switching lanes and passing the slow driver like a sane driver. When I arrive at the production lot gate, the whole place is in motion. Electric. That’s the only word to describe the way crew members and staff are running with their arms full of equipment and binders of scripts.

Whatever the photos were, they couldn’t have been of brunch. That means it wasn’t Aaron Jamie’s dead ass who did this.

Who else is taking photos of Kit?

I throw my truck in park and slam my door behind me before I set off at a jog towards the main building. Kit is there. I hurry, darting between trailers and staff. There is a trailer being loaded with sound equipment and another with lighting being rolled in.

“Hurry the fuck up with that! When I told you I wanted this loaded fifteen minutes ago, I meant it you shit!” A grizzled veteran bellows before there’s a crash from inside one of the trailers and the entire crew loses their collective shit. I don’t bother looking because my mind is starting to work.

They aren’t just loading the equipment for few scenes, the entire fucking lot is packing itself up. That means filming is changing location. There has only been one other time in my career that this has happened and it was because one of the writer’s had offed themselves and the director had a shit fit about us being connected to the death and refused to continue filming until we changed location. By The Way’s filming has been on track for an early wrap-up, something the investors and the studio execs were foaming at the mouth over. An early wrap meant money saved and that gave them the only thing they gave a shit about

Profit.

A move like this is going to eat into that profit. Whatever spooked the producers to do this has to be massive. I hit the doors to the main building and keep going. Rafe had texted me while I’d driven.

Writer’s Room.

That’s where they are now. The room just off the main dining spot is open and bright, lined with windows that look out into the forest. There is only one way in and all those windows give anyone outside a clear view of the room’s inhabitants.

Why the fuck would Rafe bring Kit here if more photos dropped? Something isn’t right, not when his suite is available. There’s mine too, but it isn’t as comfortable as Rafe’s. Still, why did he bring her here where she is out in the open?

My hands curl into fists and I round the corner leading into the Writer’s Room. I already know whatever happened is bigger than Aaron Jamie and his stunt the night before at The Cellar. I’d been dealing with him and not protecting Kit. I’m going to rip this fucker’s spine out when I find them. Whoever it is has to be feeling powerful right now. They have the entire production moving, everyone scurrying like ants to pack it up because of whatever game the mystery photographer has set into motion.

God, I hate that they have me scrambling just like everyone else. I don’t do that. I control the game. Always. The moves I make are mine and mine alone to make, but it’s different now that Kit is in play.

She is my woman and she is vulnerable. She is soft and sweet, as innocent as someone could be around monsters like Rafe and I. She’s the reason this fucker has me by the balls.

“Grant!” Kit’s voice jolts me out of visions of using entrails to strangle the cunt of a photographer taking photos of her. She breaks away from Rafe and runs for me, her beautiful face tear-stained, dark hair messy and her eyes red-rimmed. I can tell she’s been crying for a while.

I hug her to me and bury my face in her hair. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

“Please don’t go away again,” Kit whispers, shoulders shaking with quiet sobs and I hold her closer.

I smooth her hair back and kiss her temple. “I won’t,” I promise her, rubbing her back soothingly. She holds me tighter and I don’t miss the little hiccup she gives against my chest. Motherfucker. I am going to cut their balls off and shove them down their throat. Whoever did this to Kit is as good as dead.

“What happened?” I ask Rafe over the top of Kit’s head and he scowls.

“Someone got into my suite.”

He doesn’t say more but he doesn’t have to. I go still and Kit keeps crying. “How the fuck did that happen?” I snap. I know what he isn’t saying because he already told me the photos were of Kit.

Someone got into his suite while Kit was there.

Right under our fucking noses they took photos of her.

Rafe’s face darkens and he glares at me. “You think I know? It was locked.”

“There you both are! Wonderful. This is wonderful!” We both look to see Holly, the assistant director beaming at us. She claps her hands and hustles forward with an assistant trailing behind her.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Jane, can you please give Grant his itinerary?”

“Itinerary?” Rafe snaps while I take the packet of papers from Jane with a nod while Kit clings to me.

“Yes, the itinerary for the move out. You also have one,” Holly trills and hands Rafe his own packet of papers with a smile. She clears her throat and motions to Kit. “We have one for Ms. Salazar as well but we assumed she would be staying-”

“With us,” I cut her off, “my itinerary is her itinerary.”

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