Authors: Suzanne Brockmann
He smiled down into her eyes. “And then there’s that, yeah.”
She actually smiled back at him. “I like it when you’re honest.”
Jed nodded. “Yeah, I’m trying to remember that.”
“So you really don’t think Tony actually put any LSD in those sugar cubes?” she asked, searching his eyes.
Um. “I think it’s entirely possible that he didn’t, no.” There, that wasn’t a lie, was it?
“So maybe I made myself throw up for nothing.” She rested her head against his shoulder, and he stroked her hair, amazed that the tide had turned so completely. An hour ago, he never would’ve believed he could be sitting here with Kate in his arms. Still, he wished this hadn’t happened—that it wasn’t happening this way.
“Bulimics must be insane,” she mused. “I will never do that again, as long as I live. Ack.” She sighed. “Maybe I should just go to bed. Maybe if I just go to sleep, then even if there was LDS in those sugar cubes—oops I said LDS. I meant LSD. That’s funny—but maybe even if it
was
in there, I can just go to sleep and then when I wake up, it’ll be gone and—”
“I don’t think you’re going to be able to sleep.”
She didn’t seem to hear him. “God, it’s hot in here. Will
you help me open the windows? Hmm. Do these windows even open, I wonder? I mean, I’m so used to having the air-conditioning on—I don’t even know if the windows in this trailer have screens and—” She stopped cold. “Jericho. The walls are moving. Like they’re breathing. They’re … Oh, God. It
was
in there, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Jed said, quietly. “Now I pretty much think that it was.”
She held him tighter, closing her eyes. When she spoke, her voice was very, very small. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I’m here with you,” he told her. “All the way.”
“I don’t want the walls to move,” she whispered. “Can we go outside—where there aren’t any walls?”
“It’s raining.”
“I don’t care.”
She’d had a late-afternoon interview with an editor from
Premiere
magazine, and she was still wearing a sleeveless white silk shell and a slim-fitting linen skirt. She’d kicked her high-heeled sandals off, and they lay on the bathroom floor. “You’ve got on really nice clothes,” he reminded her.
She struggled to her feet. “Please, I just want to get outside.” She put her hands around her eyes like blinders. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God …”
“Close your eyes.” Jed picked her up and carried her out of the bathroom and toward the door. He opened the door, and they were instantly hit with a blast of rain, right through the screen. “You sure?”
“Yes!”
He pushed the screen open, and they were outside. As he set Kate down, the rain soaked them to the skin almost instantly, sticking Kate’s hair to her head, and plastering her blouse to her incredible body.
“Better?” He had to lean close and speak right into her ear to be heard over the roar of the rain.
She was staring down at the grass. “No.” He still had
his arms around her, and he could feel her start to take short, sharp, panicked breaths. “Jed …”
“I’m right here.”
“There’s something out there!” She practically leapt up and into his arms. “I don’t like this, I don’t like this!”
“Okay,” he said, trying to sound calm. “Let’s go back inside, and get the candle and the cell phone, and then go into the other trailer.”
She didn’t want to go back inside, but she didn’t want to stay outside, either. He grabbed her gym bag with her pajamas and the cell phone, keeping Kate in his arms, and the candle lit until right before they stepped out the door.
The candle went out, and Kate closed her eyes as he carried her into the rain.
Inside the other trailer, Jed put everything down—including Kate—and relit the candle.
“Kate, look at me.”
She opened her eyes.
“This is the trailer where we sleep at night,” he told her, praying that this was going to work. “There’s nothing in here. You know there’s nothing in here but our beds and our pillows and our blankets and sheets. Other than that, this place is clean. You know that. So if you see something weird, it’s only the drug talking. It’s not real. And if you have your doubts, ask me. I swear to you, I will only tell you the truth tonight, all right? I swear on my mother’s grave.”
Her eyes widened. “Your mother has a grave?”
Damn. Poor choice of expression. “She died a long time ago.”
“I’m sorry.” She made an incredible picture standing there, her hair plastered to her head, her skirt misshapen and dripping wet. But it was her silk blouse that truly did him in. It was glued to her breasts and completely see-through. Her bra had been made transparent by the soaking rain as well, and she looked like a knockout grand-prize-winning
contestant in a wet T-shirt contest. Absolutely nothing was left to the imagination—her dark pink nipples standing out, clearly outlined in sharp relief. It was as if she were completely topless.
Jed tried his best not to look, but failed. Miserably.
She looked down at herself, following his gaze, and didn’t try to cover herself, for once didn’t even seem to mind. She just stood there, letting him look. “I see you’re admiring my Hollywood résumé—the two great big reasons I was cast in
Hillsdale Horror
and
Dead of Night.
You’re also looking at the reason Victor married me.” She put her hands on her hips and thrust her chest out even farther. “Pretty nifty, huh? The not-so-secret to my success.” Her laughter was giddy, and on the verge of hysterical.
“But not after this year,” she continued. “After
The
—” She stopped, blinking. “What is this movie we’re making called?”
“The Promise.”
“Right.
Right.
After
The Promise
comes out, I’m not just going to be some B-list bimbo with big boobs. I’m going to be the B-list bimbo with big boobs who won two Oscars—best picture and best screenplay.” She laughed again. “One for each boob.”
Best screenplay …? “
You
wrote this script?”
“Oops. That was a secret. Do you mind if I take off my skirt?”
“No.” Jed was completely bemused. “You really wrote—”
“You were right about this trailer.” She shimmied out of her skirt. “It’s a little hot, but so far the walls are behaving. Do you mind if I lie down?”
“No.” Sweet God, she was wearing thong panties. Jed opened her bag. “Maybe you should put on your pajamas …”
She went down the hall and climbed into his bed. “Did you know I spent three years working as a body double?”
He followed, still carrying her pajamas, and the candle as well. “No, I didn’t. God, three
years
?”
Body doubles took off their clothes for the camera. They suffered all the indignities of movie love scenes and nude scenes—having to work naked in a crowded room—without any of the star recognition and glory. Still, at the same time, he could see why she would have gotten quite a lot of work as a double. She had a body to die for.
She stretched languidly. His mouth went dry, and he had to look away, setting the candle down on the floor in the corner of the room.
“It was right after
Dead of Night
,” she told him. “Right after Victor and I got married. He finally got a chance to direct a studio movie, and I figured it was finally
my
chance, too, to have a part that didn’t involve my taking my shirt off. But Victor didn’t cast me. My own husband didn’t think I was good enough. But you better believe when the time came to shoot the love scenes, I was brought in as a body double. The first time it happened, Victor had a double cancel on him and he was desperate. Or so the story goes.”
She looked up at him, suddenly remarkably lucid. David had told him that might happen, but that Jed shouldn’t leave her alone. She might come across as completely together one minute and then completely lose it the next.
“You know, I cried for four days after filming
Dead of Night
,” she told him. “I never told Victor, but I hated every minute of it. But I couldn’t tell him that, I never told anyone. I just pretended to be this sophisticated actress who walked around naked on the set and didn’t give a damn about anything. Inside, I was sick to my stomach. Inside, I was twelve years old again, only this time I
knew
those boys were watching me undress. This time I was keeping the money. It was awful. And as bad as
Dead of Night
was, being a body double was ten times worse.”
She closed her eyes and stretched again, and Jed let
himself look at her. He hadn’t had a real chance to do that at David’s. He’d been right about her skin. It looked as smooth and impossibly silky as he knew it to be. He would have given damn near anything to be able to touch her again. She wasn’t one of those women who worked out four hours a day, with a washboard stomach and sinewy arms. She was curvy in all the right places—completely, thoroughly feminine with gracefully shaped arms and legs, and a softly rounded, impossibly sexy stomach.
“I wasn’t even a person,” she said, her eyes still closed. “I was a collection of attractive body parts.”
“Why did you do it for three years?”
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. Damn, she was beautiful, even with her hair wet and her makeup smeared. Her eyes were so blue and so sad, he wanted to sit down next to her and take her into his arms. But he knew that would be asking for trouble. Once he started touching her, he damn well wouldn’t want to stop.
“At first I pretended it was acting.” She laughed, a tinge of hysteria in her voice. “But then my marriage started falling apart—which it did pretty early on, since Victor apparently was absent from school the day the word ‘fidelity’ was added to the vocabulary list. And I … I guess I kept taking work as a double to punish myself. Or him. Or both of us, I don’t know. Probably mostly to punish myself. I grew up Catholic, you know.”
Jed had to smile. “I know.”
She sat up, motioning him to come closer. He leaned down, and she whispered into his ear. “I was bad back then. I had sex with the boom operator, and I didn’t even like him.” Her eyes filled with sudden tears. “He didn’t even know me. He said, ‘Want a beer?’ And I said okay, and I was already so drunk, the next thing I knew, we were in his truck, doing it. I didn’t even know his name.” She put her head in her hands. “Oh, God …”
Jed sat down on the bed, next to her. “Don’t think about
that,” he told her. “Those aren’t good thoughts. Besides, it doesn’t matter. You’re not that person anymore.”
She thought about that for a moment, but shook her head. “Yes, I am. If I were different now, I wouldn’t have had sex with you.”
“We weren’t strangers in the back of a truck. We were clearheaded adults who liked each other enough to become lovers and—”
She scuttled back on the bed, hitting the wall with a thump. “Jed! The walls!”
He took her hands, pulling her so that she was facing him. “Look at me, Kate.
Look
at me. The walls are fine. It’s just the candle flickering.”
She was starting to breathe hard again. “There’s something coming out from underneath the sheet,” she whispered. “I think it might be a snake.”
“I swear to you, there’s nothing here.” Still holding on to her with one hand, he swept the sheets back and off the bed with his other, leaving no hiding places for snakes—real or imaginary.
“Something’s on me!” She was about to hyperventilate. “Get it off, get it
off
!” She pulled away from him, yanking her shirt up and over her head and flinging it across the room. But even that wasn’t enough. Her bra and panties followed, along with all of the pillows on the bed.
And then Kate started wiping herself, as if there was something on her skin. But then she wasn’t wiping, she was scratching, and Jed grabbed her, holding her hands and pulling her close against his body. She was shaking, straining against him, sobbing, trying to get free.
“There’s nothing there,” he told her. “Kate, there’s nothing on you. Remember, I promised I’d tell you the truth—that I’d take care of you? I’m telling you right now, there’s nothing there!”
“But I see them!”
“Close your eyes,” he commanded her. “Close your eyes and trust me!”
“Jed!” She was crying now, great huge, tears that made his own eyes start to fill. “I can’t close my eyes! When I do, I see all the dark corners of my brain!”
He turned her so that they were nose to nose. He repositioned her arms up over her head so that he held both of her wrists in one hand as he pinned her with his body. “Look into my eyes, then,” he said. “I’m going to tell you a story, okay? Just keep looking into my eyes, all right? I’m going to tell you …” In desperation, he reached for the one thing he thought might hold her attention and distract her. “I’m going to tell you a secret. I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone before in my life—the real reason I checked myself into rehab. I sort of told you part of this before, but not the whole story.”
She held onto his gaze as if it were a grappling line. “The
real
reason?”
“Yeah.” She was calmer now, and he started to pull back, aware that his full weight was on top of her, painfully aware that she was naked beneath him.
“Don’t,” she begged, clinging to him. “Please, don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going to leave,” he promised. “But I don’t want to crush you.”
“I like it,” she whispered. “You make me feel safe.”
Jed didn’t know what to say. No one had ever told him that before. “Well, shoot. So much for taking advantage of the fact that you’re naked and in my bed. Now I have to be responsible and upstanding and all that crap, so that you don’t stop feeling safe.”
She laced her fingers through his hair. “I would feel very safe if you kissed me.”
“Wow, that’s a really bad idea.” He was completely aroused but trying his damnedest not to be. And although he’d joked about it, he’d been dead serious. There was no
way in hell he was going to take advantage of her while she was so out of it.
“Jed, something’s moving in the corner of the room.” The panic was back in her voice.
“Don’t look over there. Don’t look anywhere but into my eyes.”