Page 63 of Hollywood Comes Home

“Shut up,” Ian mumbled, studying the note in the passing streetlights.

Once we were out of view of the shipyard, Luke sped through the suburbs back to Brookline. Once safely in the driveway, we rushed through the front door. Amber, Jenna, Jade, and Mila were in the family room, chatting. Amber had, of course, poured herself an enormous glass of wine and was sipping on it happily when we barreled into the room.

“Are all the kids in bed?” Ian glanced around for any sign of little ones.

Mila, Tyler’s wife, was the first to speak up. “They’re all upstairs passed out now.”

“Good. Glad you made it over safely, Jade,” Ian nibbled his bottom lip, studying each of the women.

“What’s wrong?” Jade set her glass of wine on the end table next to the love seat. “When the boss has that look, something big is going on.”

Ian rested his hands on his hips, shaking his head. Luke took a seat next to Jade, draping his arm around her. I collapsed lazily on the floor in front of Amber, who was sitting on the fireplace hearth, while Tyler leaned on a nearby wall.

“One second.” Ian slid the note out of his pocket as he marched out of the room.

He was gone for several minutes before waltzing back in, clutching a black device. He twisted a knob on the top and a green light illuminated. He strode around the room with it before placing it on a nearby table. “We’re good here.” Turning his attention to the room, he spoke quietly. “A file that went missing at the club had some very important info on it. We went to the warehouse to talk. There was a note taped on the door.”

“What did it say?!” Jenna almost shouted before lowering her tone. “Can I see the note?”

Ian shrugged, handing it over to her. “I shouldn’t even be talking to any of you about this, but things will probably get ugly. I need you girls to be on your game and ready for instructions.”

Jenna stared at the small, white paper for a moment, curling her lip. “This makes zero sense.” She gave it back to Ian.

“Well?!” Amber chimed in eagerly before taking a large gulp of her wine. “Can I see it too?”

Rolling his eyes, Ian offered it to Amber. I rotated around, watching as her face turned ghostly, her eyes widened, and her mouth agape. “Wait, does that warehouse have anything to do with the top-secret project you have me working on?”

Ian nodded.

“Oh, shit!” The note fell from her fingers, floating down into my lap. “I know who wrote this.”

“Who?” Ian jerked his head back in shock.

Amber jumped up, almost knocking me forward, speeding over to her handbag. She dug around, then pulled out a book with a black and white cover, flipping through the pages. She stopped roughly in the middle, using her finger to scan sentences. Pursing her lips, she turned a few more pages until her finger stopped.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Ian barked.

“We’re accountable for the sins we commit. We are our own worst enemies.” She lifted her gaze to Ian. “Beware of shadows in daylight.” She turned a dark grey chapter title page in the novel, holding it up to show us.

“Shadows in Daylight.” Ian massaged his temples, groaning. “Amber, you’re speaking in riddles. Spit it out.”

Glancing at me, she gave me an apologetic, solemn expression. Shutting her eyes, she inhaled deeply. “When I was in New York, Alejandro gave me this book. He said it was one of his favorites and told me about how he relates to it in some ways.”

“I knew he wrote the fucking note!” Luke snapped.

Amber nodded. “He’s the only one who could’ve.” She faced Ian, one hand resting on her hip, the other gripping the book by her side. “Ian, what do you know about his past?”

Ian shrugged. “We didn’t really get into his personal life.”

Tyler sneered, “Let me guess, somehow both his parents are dead. Such a villain origin story.”

Amber gulped, agreeing. Luke sat calmly, staring at the floor, thumb resting on his lips. Jade elbowed him, but he didn’t budge. Ian slid his hands in his pockets, meandering the room, aimlessly.

“I’ll be seeing him tomorrow, and I plan to confront him.” Ian stopped, sliding a pack of cigarettes out of his pants pocket. “I’m going outside.” Turning his attention to me, he jerked his head toward the back door. “Hollywood, come on.”

I stood, following. As we stepped outside into the cool night, I closed the door. He still had his pack of cigarettes in his hand and held them out for me. I took one, lighting it. Standing in silence for a few moments, he leaned on a brick pillar, one arm crossed over his midsection; his other hand, twisting the cigarette mindlessly around in his fingers.

I watched the bright, full moon slowly being canceled out by passing clouds. Inhaling a drag, I examined the smoke drifting from my face as I exhaled slowly. “What did you want to talk about?”

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