Even Villains Go To The Movies (14 page)

Angela giggled. “Never mind that we aren’t Catholic.”

Her father sighed. “Do you love this guy?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“I haven’t even known him a month, Daddy. Love doesn’t work like that. It’s not eyes-across-a-crowded room and bluebirds singing.”

“Fine, so it isn’t marriage-and-a-baby love. He’s a horrible man troll who is threatening you?”

“I didn’t say that.” Angela studied at her fingernails. “It’s just...we got too serious too fast. I’ll take some of the blame. He’s easy to like. Smart. Funny. Just... He quotes Shakespeare all the time. You’d like him,” she said without thinking.

“So you want to rip his heart out and put it in a blender because...?”

“Daddy!” Angela frowned at the phone, appalled. “I didn’t say that. I said I want him to forget about me. He knows too much already and it won’t be long before he figures out who Mom is. What then? What are we supposed to do when a Company superhero finds out that Mom is alive? They’ll come for her and then I’ll have to kill him for real. This is easier. Better.”

There were heavy footsteps in the hall outside and someone tried to open the door. Angela braced herself against the sink. “Occupied!”

“Hurry up!” a man on the other side yelled.

She ignored him.

Her father coughed. “Angela? Do you remember when Rolling Shock took your mom from us? Do you remember how you felt when we went to the park and your mom was there and she didn’t recognize you?”

“Yes,” Angela whispered.

“Do you hate Arktos enough to hurt him like that?”

“I don’t want to hurt him. I’m trying to save him!”

“Then let him decide whose side he’s on. If he knows the truth about what happened and he backs The Company, we’ll take care of it.”

Angela’s breath caught and she forced the words out in a whisper. “And what if he proposes?”

“Then we’ll set an extra plate at the dinner table. It was going to happen eventually; your mother and I knew it would. Five children do not grow up and stay single for eternity. That’s not how life works.”

“Daddy!”

The person outside hit the door with something hard. “I gotta go, lady!”

Angela turned her back on the stall door. “I’m not ready to get married!”

“Then ask him out for dinner.”

She swallowed and took a long, ever-so-slightly-shaky breath. “Love you, Daddy.”

“Love you too, Button.”

Angela turned off her phone.

“Hurry up!”

Grumbling, she opened the door. “Good grief, do you think it’s easy to pee in this suit?” she demanded as she swept past the gaffer. It wasn’t until after he slammed the door that she realized she’d have to hold it until the next break. Stupid men. Stupid phone calls. Stupid shooting schedule. Even superheroes needed to pee sometimes.

***

“AJ!” Jacob tackled her with a sweaty hug. “How is my most favorite lady?” A drop of his sweat fell onto her neck.

“Good. Off, now.” She pushed him away and tried to focus on the script she was reading.

“We’re going out for drinks. Wanna come?” Jacob asked as he played with her hair.

Angela batted his hand away. “Can’t. I’m dying tonight.” Swendon had decided the easiest way to pick who was getting offed in the season finale was to film everyone dying so he could put off the decision until the very last minute.

Jacob sat next to her and gazed adoringly. “Tell Swendon to cut the talk. Everyone knows Pacifica will survive. You’re the fan favorite.”

“You have to kill your darlings to make art,” Angela countered. She hit him with a light wave of disinterest.

He ignored it. “Come on, Peach. I want some quality time with you. I feel like it’s been forever since we did something together.”

“That’s because we’ve never done anything together,” Angela returned, trying to keep the sarcasm from showing too blatantly. Try as she might, she couldn’t make Jacob fit into the mold of Arktos. He was too short, not muscular enough, and he was always grabby. It was getting on her nerves. “Tell you what, I’ll call when I’m done shooting and meet you at the bar. You aren’t planning to go to bed early, are you?”

“Not if you’ll keep me up late.” He winked lasciviously at her.

“Great. Have fun!” With a chilly smile she hit him with the urge to walk away, a strong urge. That got through.

Jacob pivoted and zeroed in on his next victim. “Mikey! I was hoping you’d be here tonight. Let’s go get a beer. I’ll drive.”

Angela flipped through the script one more time as the crew reset the scene and someone painted her leg with fake blood. Geoff Swendon meandered through everything, checking the lights and sound.

“Is Pacifica ready?”

“I’m ready.” She tossed the script on her chair and walked into the light. “Let’s kill me and call it a night.”

Three hours later, Angela walked through the dark sound stage alone. While she’d showered, the place had shut down. Even the janitors were gone. It was almost ghostly. Appropriate though, she decided. This was her last day on a film stage, and she was the last one leaving. It had been fun in its own way. A learning experience. Today she was a TV star with a fan following and her picture plastered over a dozen magazine covers. Tomorrow she’d be unemployed and sending her application out to various schools.

Maybe she’d join the Peace Corps so she could travel Africa with Blessing. They could do with a nice bonding experience.

Her ringtone echoed as she stepped into the deserted parking lot. “Hello?”

“AJ, it’s Luiz, are you home yet?”

“Not yet. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, why?”

Luiz swallowed a sob. “Somebody jumped Mikey. The police just called me. They’re taking him to the hospital. I’m going to go meet them, but I’m onsite for the Clayborn movie and I’m worried about Mia. I don’t know where they got him. Can you...” She sniffed. “Can you go make sure Mia’s okay? Call me as soon as you get home?”

“Of course. Have you tried calling her yet?” Angela jogged for her bike, stuffing her nonessentials in her backpack as she ran.

“A dozen times, but she won’t pick up. She’s probably already asleep.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll call from the house in fifteen minutes. You go take care of Mikey. I’ll stay with Mia until you get home. Luiz”—she focused on her friend, somewhere out there in the city of millions—”It’s going to be okay.” Angela willed Luiz to believe her. “Mikey will be fine. Mia is fine. We’ll make this okay.”

“Yup. Good. Okay.” Luiz’s breath sounded ragged.

“I’m going to hang up now so I can drive. I will call you in fifteen minutes. I promise. Mia is fine.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Luiz hung up as Angela heard sirens in the background.

She pulled her helmet on and turned the key on her bike. Nothing happened. She tried it again. Nothing. Angela pulled her helmet back off. Leaning down, she checked under the bike. Wires were hanging loose. Someone had sabotaged her bike. What kind of punk move was that? Why would anyone mess with her bike?

A shiver of apprehension rolled up her spine.

Yeah, there were a couple people who might hate her. It probably wasn’t hard for Glee to guess who Rage was; they’d been mistaken for each other enough times. Even if Glee hadn’t put two and three together to get five Angela was likely on her hit list for everything else that had happened in the past month.

A car turned the corner, moving slowly like a shark on the hunt. Angela stood, holding her backpack by the straps so she could use it as a weapon if someone jumped out. The car glided to a stop in front of her and the window rolled down.

“Are you okay?” Tyler asked.

Angela eyed her bike and then the darkly beautiful actor. “I’m good.”

“You’re not much of a poker player, AJ. What’s wrong?”

Angela sighed, muttering about gambler’s chances. “My bike won’t start. It’s fine. I can call someone for a ride.”

“Isn’t Luiz working tonight? I heard Clayborn’s movie has a motorcycle gang.”

Well, wasn’t he Mister Well-Informed? She shrugged. “Bike gangs are popular right now.” She cursed at her phone. Five minutes wasted. Right now Mia could be... Her mind shut down. She didn’t want to think what could be wrong with Mia right now if Mikey had been attacked at the house. She realized Tyler had said something. “What?”

“I asked if you wanted a ride.” He sounded more worried than amused.

“Yes, please. I’ve got to get home.” She opened the door and hesitated. “I’m telling you now that me getting into this car isn’t a sign that I like you, trust you, or want anything to do with you. I’m not trying to seduce you in any way. I’m desperate. I need to get home. I will give you gas money.”

“Understood. I am m’lady’s taxi cab.” He rolled the window up and gripped the wheel with both hands. “I’m so glad I went to college for this. Very good use of my degree.”

Chapter Eighteen

Dear Mom,

I’m fine. Daddy’s worrying over nothing. Don’t worry about it.

Love,

Angela

Angela slid into the soft, heated leather seats in a car interior that was chilled to Spokane Cold. “Where are you from?” Angela demanded, rubbing warmth back into her arms.

Tyler chuckled as he turned up the heat on her seat. “North Dakota.”

“Which is in the arctic circle, right?”

“Only a couple hundred miles away. You’re from the south?”

She settled back in her seat, letting the warmth pull the stress from her muscles. “I spent most of my life in Texas. You can move around, but it’s hard to escape.”

“Were you a spoiled southern princess or a cowgirl?”

“Yes.” Her phone vibrated against her foot and she picked it up. “Yes?”

“Hey, Peach. Where ya at?” Jacob asked. In the background she could hear dance music.

“I’m leaving the studio. Um, about tonight—”

“That’s why I was calling. Mikey and I are getting bored waiting for you.”

“Mikey?” she asked, wrinkling her brow as Tyler pulled out of the studio compound onto the main street.

Tyler glanced her way, but she shook her head and he stayed silent.

“You know, Luiz’s brother?” Jacob asked. “He’s sitting here with me and we’re both waiting for you. Even though we both know you like me best.”

“Um, Jake, lemme call you back. I forgot something inside.” Angela hung up in confusion.

“Something wrong?” Tyler asked as they headed for the highway.

“Jacob wants me to meet him and Mikey at the bar, but Luiz is going to meet Mikey at the hospital because he got beat up. I told her I’d go home to sit with Mia until she can come home. Why would Jacob say Mikey is at the bar if he isn’t?”

Tyler switched lanes in the heavy weekend traffic. “Maybe the guy stole Mikey’s ID and then got beat up. Seat belt on, please.”

“Right.” She twisted and a bright red car parked beside the gas station caught her eye. The number plate read JACOB-1.

“AJ?”

She buckled herself in. “It’s nothing.” Red cars were a dime a dozen in L.A. and there had to be hundreds of Jacobs.

The car merged stealthily onto the highway. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Hundreds of Jacobs. Especially after Twilight. “Hmm? No, not really.” She shook her head, then sighed. “I’m sorry. That was rude. It’s been a long day. I died. It was a surreal experience. And now this. I’m tired, and worried, and things aren’t going the way I want. If I start talking I’ll start babbling. I’m already babbling. You don’t want that.”

They were silent as the miles vanished under wheels far quieter than Angela’s thoughts until Tyler finally said, “Are you going to give me an address or am I supposed to guess where we’re going?”

“Oh! Sorry. Next exit and make a left.”

“That’s not the high-rent district.”

Angela shrugged. “I didn’t have a job when I moved in.”

“You could afford somewhere safer now,” Tyler pointed out. “You have a job.”

She glanced at the clock: 12:13. Stop talking, drive faster. “No I don’t. My contract expired at midnight. I’m currently unemployed.”

Tyler’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me. Geoff can’t possibly be planning to kill you off! Pacifica is the best character.”

Angela shifted in her seat. “Why do people keep saying that? I have no lines. I stand around like the world’s awkwardest lingerie model.”

“But your faces! You’re so expressive.” When she looked over Ty was smiling, one of his full-blown, panty-dropping, forget-you-have-a-lover smiles that made him oh-so-popular.

She turned away as soon as she realized she was smiling back. “It doesn’t matter. Acting was fun for a bit, but it’s not what I came to L.A. to do. Next right.” She pointed to the street.

Ty turned on the blinker and slowed. “What did you come here for?”

“To teach. The only reason Luiz hired me was because she couldn’t afford a tutor out of pocket.”

“Because tutoring and acting are very similar skill sets?”

Angela sniffed. “I haven’t been acting. Standing around in a white catsuit doesn’t take any skill.”

“Making it look anything other than ridiculous does.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Do you watch
Fractured
?”

“It’s allowed. Don’t you?”

Angela quirked an eyebrow. “I already know what’s going to happen. Why would I watch it? A left here and then stop by the second streetlamp.”

“The dark streetlamp?”

“Yes.”

Tyler brought the car to a stop beside the curb. “This really is not the best area for you to be living in.”

“It’s a poor working-class neighborhood; that doesn’t mean everyone here is a criminal.” She glowered at her bag as she made sure everything was in it. “What do I owe you for gas money?”

“Consider it payment for the cupcake.”

“You remember that? You didn’t even acknowledge me!”

“I was distracted. Sorry.”

He managed to look faintly uncomfortable, but Angela hmphed disdainfully and pulled a twenty out of her wallet. She tossed it on the dashboard. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Which window is yours?” Ty asked as she got out.

“Why?”

“So I know you got in safe. There are open hallways and... Listen, humor me. Please?”

Angela’s lips twitched in a grimace of surrender. “Second window on the left. I’ll turn it on when I get in.” She tried not to slam the door; it still closed with a satisfying thud. It figured that the one time she wanted a superhero to come to her rescue Arktos was nowhere in sight.