Page 3 of Gluttony
“I care because I don’t want the movie to be a flop.”
She was only half listening. Her eager look told Tony she was about to ask him on a date again. While on a normal day, he might say yes, this wasn’t normal. He hadn’t felt normal for the past few months, not since before rehab. Since he’d caught the sharp end of a soft tongue belonging to a woman with honeycomb eyes and a body cut from sin.
Bailey Haze was toned, athletic, but full of plenty. Plenty up top, plenty down behind, plenty of personality. His mind had been stuck in the gutter, dreaming of indulging. He’d wanted to every night. But he hadn’t seen her since she’d looked at him with scorn.
I don’t expect you to know anything.
The memory of her biting words invaded his mind, and he shut it down quickly.
Maggie opened her mouth, but Tony only saw Bailey’s lips.
“Later,” he said quickly and strode away.
Maggie shouted for all to hear, “See you at the wrap party.”
He waved nonchalantly over his shoulder and kept walking, because a wrap party was exactly what he didn’t need. To be surrounded by a bunch of actors and assholes gulping down booze, snorting up powder, or vaping the latest craze, meant his internal gluttony radar would go haywire. Being within a foot of anyone ingesting in excess was enough to make him sick. This sense was supposed to be useful in tracking down deadly sinners. The closer he was to someone with deadly levels of gluttony, the more his gut twinged. Unless, of course, he’d dulled that sensation with the very thing he was meant to be fighting. Alcohol and drugs had been his saving grace. How ironic.
But after the night Bailey Haze had come around, wanting information about Max’s disappearance, and all Tony could give her was a few drunken words, he’d had enough. He was tired of this monkey dance.
Arriving at his trailer, he wrapped his fingers around the door handle and pulled. The metal door tugged open just as two people arrived on his six. Damn. He turned around.
One was a tall, potbellied, balding man with sweat stains under his pits. His thousand-dollar suit oozed sleaze. The other person was Peta, hugging her clipboard to her chest. She bit her lip and averted her gaze.
“Donatello,” Tony greeted.
“You’re expected tonight at the wrap party.” The man’s voice was grime down a wall.
“I thought these things were optional.”
“You’re the star of the film. It’s non-negotiable.”
“It’s just for the staff and fan club. No biggie.”
Donatello ground his teeth. “Do I have to remind you of the setback you caused with your little vacation to Darling Greens?”
Tony wanted to roll his eyes. As if he’d ever live that down.“No. I get it. I’ll be there.”
“Good. Because it’s in your contr—what the fuck is that?”
Tony looked up and caught the disgusted look on Donatello’s face. Peta behind him also featured an expression he could only place as intrigued. Twisting his neck, he followed their gazes into his trailer and blinked. His fingers cramped on the door handle. What the hell? A Barbie and Ken doll hung from his ceiling, twine around their necks like a hangman’s noose. Each was dressed like the characters from the movie—his with the torn white shirt, Maggie’s with red hair and the same dress she wore in the final scene. He leaned forward and spied two more dolls, a gorilla and the psycho, both with red paint splashed on them. The heads were at odd angles. But the doll representing him was pristine… apart from the noose. There was a note pinned to his doll’s shirt. He plucked it off and read it.
I know.
He inwardly groaned, thinking immediately of his younger sister Sloan. Jesus Christ. This was exactly the kind of nineties teen horror bullshit she’d come up with to mess with him. She still hadn’t paid Tony back for the elevator prank he’d pulled months ago. She had been royally pissed at one point. It was not unlike his sister to pretend she was cool with it, hold a grudge, wait months for the right moment, and then pounce to get the ultimate payback, just to prove she could.
He scowled. His prank had been in good faith. Forcing her and Max into a locked elevator to talk their shit out had been a good call. They were soulmates—a balancing influence for each other. There was no escaping it, and they were being stubborn at the time. His plan had worked, too. They got together in the end, and now they were very happy. So, fuck the bullshit.
“Godammit, Tony. You have a goddamned stalker,” Donatello snapped.
“What? That’s nothing. Just a prank.” The words came out, but an unsettled feeling niggled in Tony’s gut. Sloan had been deliriously happy planning her wedding these past few weeks. If she’d had time to prank, he’d be surprised.
The producer was already turning to Peta. “Get set security up here, also get the head on the phone. We need to hire pretty boy a bodyguard.”
Malice simmered in Tony’s blood.Pretty boy?
Peta also glared at Donatello.
Then something he’d said clicked. “I don’t need a bodyguard.” That was the last thing he needed. His family was more lethal than the entire security team put together. He could not, would not, allow someone to follow him around all day, every day. Under the cover of darkness, he slipped out in a masked battle uniform to fight crime. Granted, it had been months since he’d joined the rest of the team on a patrol of the city, but he planned to. Soon. Once the film was done.
