Page 36 of Holy Sinner

I throw a hand out at the wood and iron arch in front of us with the words Elysium Sol Sanctuary wrought elegantly in what looks like gold. The words gleam in the morning light and remind me of Grant’s hair. I glare at the words for a beat before I look back at him.

“It’s the same damn thing.”

“Not really,” he says and shuts the truck door. He’d insisted on driving, which suited me. I don’t like trucks, they are too loud, too flashy, and a bitch to turn. The only nice thing about the truck was that it had space for Kit to sleep between the pair of us. Having her close by was the only reason I was able to sleep. After we’d left from the production lot, we’d set off to the airport for a quick forty-five minute trip to Portland while the trailers rumbled on towards whatever this place is. I should have known they were going to make us camp when they sent us to Portland and stuck us in the rentals. We’d landed three hours ago, not much time at all to be driving, so it is still close enough to the city but we are well and truly out in the middle of nowhere from the looks and sounds of it. I can’t hear the telltale sounds of a highway or see any electrical towers anywhere.

Fucking camping.

“They do glamping here, at most,” Grant says and jerks his thumb over his shoulder as he speaks, “they do yoga retreats and shit like that most of the time. Nothing like camping at all so don’t start your shit, Rafe.”

I open my mouth to tell him I’m going to shit down his throat but Kit speaks.

“I’ve read about this place. Or I mean, I’ve seen it on social media.” She’s shielding her eyes and looking up at the sign. “They did a special on some stars that did rehab here when it first opened. They, uh, claimed the sun and the location was prime for healing addiction,” she says, gesturing overhead. That tracks. There is a collection of structures, with a few small modern buildings that are mostly glass but hint at rustic with their use of aesthetically placed timber to create the illusion of trees. I can see a sparkling pool dead center of the buildings with a firepit off the side of it. Beyond the pool, there is a massive lodge that surprisingly isn’t made of glass but looks like it is carved from stone, marble maybe, from the light color of the stone. It has a huge porch with swings and chairs at regular intervals and a pair of massive bronze doors that reflect the sun back at us.

I slip my sunglasses on and nod at the lodge. “It’s bright, I’ll give it that.” I walk closer to the archway and survey the area. I can see more buildings spread out past the lodge, they look like cabins but there is a barn too and stables.

Grant inhales and throws his arms wide as he stretches and sighs. “Smell that fresh air. It’s a damn good morning. Reminds me of Colorado.”

“Shut the fuck up about Colorado.”

“Why don’t you come over and make me.”

“No fighting,” Kit orders and we fall silent, but not without exchanging looks. Grant pulls his finger across his throat and I roll my eyes.

“This about the gun?” I ask.

“I swear to god, who brings a gun to anything?”

Yeah, it is definitely about the gun. I don’t care if he thinks it’s smarter to pick one up around here cash. That’s how mistakes are made. I’m not about to buy a gun and have it traced to me when I put a bullet in someone’s head. The gun I have at home is fine. I don’t need to buy a new one.

He’d been twitchy in the airport but we’d gone private. They hadn’t even so much as waved a metal detector in our direction on our way to the jet.

“You worry too much,” I tell him.

Grant scoffs and continues to stretch like the annoying fitness asshole he is. “The fuck I do,” he says, dropping down to the ground to do push ups. “I don’t worry because I don’t do stupid shit.”

I don’t even bother replying to that, because the three of us know it’s a lie.

Kit clears her throat and takes a step towards the arch. “I can go see if I can get us some coffee. Do you want any?” she asks, changing the subject. Always the sweet shy girl. She knows Grant is the loose canon but doesn’t want us to linger on it or his feelings might get hurt.

A truck pulls up beside ours along with a town car. It looks like most of the crew that had flown with us is arriving or has already beaten us. There are four other trucks and two cars besides ours and the newcomers. I bet the trailers with the equipment will be here by lunch time if they didn’t run into any problems.

A door opens from one of the glass buildings and Holly waves at us with Jane in tow. “Oh, you’re here, I’m so relieved!” Holly smiles and practically skips towards us as she inhales just like Grant, “Isn’t the air here amazing? Come on, you’re never going to believe this place. It’s amazing!”

We fall in line behind Holly and Jane. They’re going on about the scenery and how this is going to be great for filming, especially with the need for relaxation.

“You’re going to love the amenities here. There’s a massage room and an infrared sauna and even a room where you can lay on salt, because that’s good for stress. I think they have sound baths in the morning and at night if you need a little something extra to sleep well.”

I don’t know what a sound bath is but Kit let’s out an oohhhh that has me already taking notes that I need to take her to a fucking sound bath tonight if I can.

“You have your own cabin down that way,” Holly says, gesturing towards the cabins I spotted earlier. She says we’ll take all of our meals and meetings in the lodge here. “It’s big enough that I think we’re going to film some inside. They even have a space ready to go for us. I guess they use this place for acting workshops from time to time.”

Makes sense. People love workshops and in a place like this? The price tag attached is going to bring in only the elite. I never went to acting school. Never saw the need for it, just got in with stunts first and somehow ended up in front of the camera. To be honest, acting wasn’t what I wanted to do at first.

It was the stunts.

At least, it was the adrenaline that came with the stunts. That was when I felt normal, when the world came into focus and I felt something. Too bad about that goddamn fire that went wrong and burned my jacket to a crisp with me in it. I’d been able to smother the flames but the jacket hadn’t been treated with a flame retardant the way it should have been. Even if I hadn’t gotten the flames out as fast as I had, I don’t think I would have died. Maybe disfigured or some shit like that, but I would have lived.

Though, what work was there for an actor like me when his looks were gone? I knew the score for what it was. I wasn’t exactly delivering Oscar-worthy performances with the roles I’d been picking. No one was going to notice the absence of the villain of the last mafia flick they watched because he didn’t look the part with burn scars. If I’d lost my looks, the work would have dried up. Just like my ability to slip in and out of parties when I wanted to hunt.

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