Page 9 of Rest In Pieces

“You live in an RV.”

“I know. Awesome, right?”

“It only has one bedroom.”

I shrug. “It has two beds.”

“What about work?”

“I’ve got Wi-Fi, and you can work from anywhere. Come on, Nevaeh. You know you want to.”

She looks like she might puke, but I don’t let go. After a moment, she takes a deep breath and looks me in the eye. “Okay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. You’re right. If I don’t do it now, I never will.”

“I’m proud of you.” I smoosh her cheeks before letting go.

“Don’t be. I’m terrified.”

“I’m proud of youbecauseyou’re terrified, but you’re doing it anyway. Now, let’s explore, and we can talk some more later.”

“Okay, let me just change into my sneakers, and I’ll meet you out there.”

“Sounds good.” With that, I head to the kitchen, pull out a backpack from the overhead storage, and start filling it. I grab a couple of bottles of water, a handful of cereal bars, some bear spray, my gun, and a first aid kit—just in case. With Nevaeh, it’s best to prepare for anything.

“Okay, I’m ready. This is just a regular walk, right? Not one of those spur-of-the-moment hikes you like to spring on me,” she asks, eyeing my backpack.

“Nope, just a regular walk. These are just some supplies.”

She narrows her eyes at me, so I open the bag to show her that I didn’t sneak a tent and sleeping bags inside it. I only did that one time, dammit.

“Bug repellent.” I pull the bottle out from the side pocket, then grab the canister from inside and hold it up for her. “Bear repellent.” I shove it back in my bag and pull out the gun. “And serial killer repellent.”

She eyes the gun with a nod of approval. My mother took us both to the shooting range —another thing done behind Andrew’s back—insisting that women needed to be able to protect themselves. Though Nevaeh isn’t a fan, she can handle a gun.

“Works for me,” she says. “Let’s go explore, then get something to eat. I passed a few places on the way here that might be good.”

“You came through town? I took the back roads. I didn’t want to attract any attention. There’ll be plenty of that when the rest of the crew rolls in tomorrow.”

“Yeah, this thing doesn’t exactly blend in. From what I saw, there isn’t much there, but we’ll make it work. I’m not sure how the fancy movie stars will survive, though.”

“Good. Maybe they’ll go somewhere else to party.”

She snickers, knowing how I feel about celebrity parties. It’s bad enough when I go to the wrap parties. Everyone knows I only go because I have to.

“You know people would kill to be in your shoes, right?”

I roll my eyes. “Yes, because my life is so glamorous. Trust me, I’d rather hang out with you and a bear or two than deal with the Hollywood elite.”

She looks at me skeptically.

“You’ll see,” I warn her. It won’t take her long to figure people out—especially Monica Miller, the female lead on this project. I’ve done stunt work for her before, and she was the definition of a diva. Her sense of entitlement was so twisted that it was laughable. But since I liked my job and wanted to keep getting booked, I kept my opinions to myself.

I lock up the RV, slip the keys into my pocket, and pull the backpack onto my shoulders. “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

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