High Risk Love (27 page)

Tell her.

“He said,” I choked on the words, the old grief opening up in me for the first time in a long time. Jet had smoothed so much of it with his smile, his laugh, I hadn’t even noticed that I’d stopped grieving. That I’d moved on. “Ryan said, ‘Tell her I loved her, when the time is right. I just thought I had time, time to be everything she needed, time to tell her. I was wrong.’”

Lily let out a sob that bent her in half, her hands circling around to hold her knees. “Leave me alone. Please,” she whispered out though her tears.

I stood up, left her to sit there and cry on her own. There was nothing else I could do for her until she was ready to talk.

I went to my room, closed the door on her tears, lay down in my bed, and breathed in the smell of Jet on my sheets, our lovemaking still lingering in the air. My cell phone rang, startlingly me out of the half-doze I’d fallen into.

I answered without looking to see who it was.

“Spitfire, is Lily okay?” God, that he was worried about Lily only made me love him more.

“She’s hurting, but she’ll be okay. I might have made it worse.” I quickly told him about Ryan’s last words, how I thought it was the right time.

“I don’t think you made it worse,” he said. “But I think she scared Jasper. He’s left early, left for his next shoot.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“I was kinda hoping she’d be good for him,” he grumbled. “And they could keep each other busy.”

The pout in his voice was obvious to me, and I laughed softly. “We’ll have lots of time together.”

“Tomorrow morning?”

“Yes. Please.” I stood up and stretched, my muscles sore from the weekend of marathon lovemaking.

“I’ll be there to pick you and Lily up at eight. For breakfast.”

“You think you can handle both of us?”

He laughed, and I knew his eyes would be sparkling with more than a hint of devilry. “Baby, you can count on it.”

* * * * *

It had been three weeks and everything was going in the right direction.

I was getting nervous. Like it was all about to fall apart.

Early morning, the sun was still not up, but the sky was lightening. We were at my place, Jet was breathing deep and even, one arm and leg flung over me. Our blankets had slipped down around our waists, exposing Jet’s tattoo.

“Fear Nothing,” I whispered, tracing the words, trying to use them to push away the irrational thoughts that only seemed to come at night. I closed my eyes, whispered the words to myself like a mantra and they settled into me, eased my mind, and I drifted in and out of sleep until the phone rang.

Or more accurately, Jet’s phone rang.

He reached for it, answering it blindly. “Hey, Reggie, how the hell are you?” A pause. “Today, sure. We’ll be there in an hour.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, slipping off the bed and searching through the laundry basket of clean clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Outskirts, there was an accident and the stuntman, David Wells, got hurt.” He lifted his hands. “Not bad, it wasn’t serious, just a tweak of an old injury, but he won’t be coming back anytime soon.”

I grabbed my camera, slung the strap over my neck, and took Jet’s hand as we jogged down the stairs. The old man who lived below us, Mr. Tiscario, glared at us as we went by, and when Jet wasn’t looking, gave me a wink. I blew him a kiss, which he waved away. My neighbor wasn’t so bad, and I wondered what his story was, why he was living all by himself in such a run down neighborhood.

Mr. Tiscario was quickly forgotten as I slid into Jet’s car and he turned the engine on, and a familiar voice floated across the airwaves.

Death comes for us all

In tiny little drops, stealing us away

Cell by cell, breath by breath

From the dreams of life as they fade

We fight, we scream, we pray for respite

But death comes for us all

Stealing life, stealing life

Only one thing remains, the spark

A piercing star in the darkness

Bringing us home to a place where our hearts

Beat faster, cleaner, purer, the strength of passion

A dream.

A hope.

A love that holds us, embraced in the belief for a moment

That death does not come for us all.

In tiny little drops, stealing us away

Cell by cell, breath by breath

From the dreams of life as they sing our dreams

We laugh, we love, we pray

Death does not come for us all

I screamed mid-song and Jet slapped the steering wheel. The station was a big one, one of the big three, and the song was being touted as the fresh new voice of the month. Me. I was that voice. I couldn’t stop grinning.

Jet drove like a madman, as if his excitement couldn’t be contained. “I knew it, Spitfire, I never doubted for an instant.”

“Jet, slow down.” My excitement fizzled as a semi truck roared by us, close enough to shake the smaller vehicle.

“It’s okay, I got it.” He slid the car over into the slow lane, reached over and took my hand. “I’m proud of you. You did this all on your own, chased your dreams. That is an amazing accomplishment.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you pushing me. You opened my eyes, Jet. In Mexico, that’s where I started to believe a little again. Just enough.”

I squeezed his hand, loving him even more. How had I for one second thought we were incompatible?

Less than half an hour later, we pulled into the empty lot where the movie was being shot. Reggie had Jet pulled aside before we’d even come to a full stop. I yanked the hand brake as Jet was yanked out of the car.

“Listen, this is the scene. But I don’t want you to freak out, okay?” Reggie said, cigarette dangling from his lip, ash floating on the breeze.

I got out of my side of the car and moved away to give them some privacy. Camera up, I saw an actor I recognized, got a few pictures of him leaning against a big black truck.

“Miss, you can’t be taking pictures.” A pair of large hands clamped down on the front of my camera.

“Oh, right, here’s my badge.” I had slipped it in my back pocket and now put the lanyard over my head. “I’m with
Wild Child
.” I’d re-negotiated with Kevin and was now freelancing for the magazine which helped with the bills hugely.

The guard lifted up the badge, inspecting the details. “Fine, but I’m still going to run this by the director.”

I didn’t care, really. I was just here for Jet, who at the moment happened to be getting into a heated argument with Reggie.

Ignoring the guard and his continued berating of me for not having my media badge out right away, I strode back to where the two men stood. Jet’s hands were on his hips, and he was pissed. Seriously angry.

Reggie was shaking his head. “It isn’t a big deal, she’s on her meds. Has been for over a month now, since Mexico. She’s just starting back to work, give her a chance.”

“She’s fucking off her rocker!” Jet growled, his voice lowering.

I moved up beside him and touched his arm.

He flinched, saw it was me and then slung an arm across my shoulders, pulling me tight against him. “Sorry,” he whispered into my hair, kissing my temple.

“What’s going on?”

Reggie backed away. “Get him to do his job, green eyes.” The stunt coordinator left us standing there by Jet’s car. I could feel the angry vibes all but rolling off his body.

“What’s wrong?”

“Elise is here, she’s the one working opposite to me on the scene.”

A cold pit of dread opened up in my belly. “But I thought she was in an institution?”

“Apparently they, whoever ‘they’ are, think that with her meds she’s well enough to work.” He let out an exasperated sigh. “I just don’t want her getting it in her head that she has something with me again. Fuck, I hate this.”

I rubbed his arm, tried to still the fear in me.
Fear nothing, fear nothing.
This was going to be fine. Jet was a pro; Elise would be fine. Everything would be just fine. Fine. The word reverberated through my head as the scene set up. I kept my camera up, taking pictures, letting the job of getting the best shot distance me from my feelings.

Elise stepped down from the make-up trailer, her long curly blonde hair floating in the breeze, a deep red dress swirling around her knees. The whole effect was very Marilyn Monroe, down to the over-sized sunglasses on her face. I sidled next to Reggie who was scratching at his head, watching the whole thing. I took a few shots of Elise. She was beautiful, stunning in the red dress. “Are you sure this is going to be okay?”

Reggie grunted. “Fake bombs, fake explosions, fake guns. None of it can hurt him. I promise.”

Fake, it was all fake.
Fear nothing
. My stomach tried to make its way up my throat. No, something was not right. I followed Elise with my camera, snapping shots, seeing her go to the prop table. There, her hand hovered over something, then scooped it up.

A gun. But Reggie had said it was fake. A prop guy came over to the table, shook his head, put the gun back down, and offered her another one. She took that offered gun with a smile.

The prop guy turned his back and she scooped up the first gun.

“Reggie, all the guns on the table are fake, right?” I asked, feeling my heart start to escalate.
Fear nothing, fear nothing
.

“Hmm? Yeah, except that one we use for close-ups, that one’s real.”

Elise was headed toward Jet, the gun held loosely at her side, dipped her hand into her cleavage and pulled out what looked like bullets. No, I was seeing things.

Fear nothing, fear nothing.

Nope, that wasn’t going to work.

“Reggie, she has the real gun, and I think she just loaded it.” I tried to turn him away from the papers in his hands.

“Jasmin, I know you worry about him, he told me, okay? I get it. But this is not something you need to worry about.” His eyes didn’t hold understanding, but contempt. Contempt for me and my fears.

I stepped away from him, jaw tight, angry tears building up. I wasn’t going to just stand there.

I strode toward the blonde woman. “Elise, can you give me your profile, sweetheart? You’re just too stunning not to get a picture of.”

She paused, posed for me, even pulled the sunglasses up. The movement was mechanical and I saw the emptiness in her eyes. I sidled around her, putting myself between her and Jet. If I could just keep her busy long enough, just enough to get someone to see that the gun was real.

“Okay, can you maybe just tip your head for me.” I waved my hand, got her to shift her stance. Empty, those eyes were so empty.

“I have to go now.” She stepped forward and I stepped back, keeping the distance between us.

Reggie was yelling. “Fuck it all to hell, Jasmin, get out of the god damned way, we’re going to start the shoot!”

I couldn’t move, couldn’t do what he wanted. “Elise, put the gun down. This is a mistake, this isn’t right.” I kept my voice low, soothing like I would for a frightened animal. Her chest hitched and she lifted the gun, pointed it at me.

“I need you to move. He doesn’t know about the baby. I have to take him to the baby to show him and the baby is in heaven. So I have to take him there. To see.” Her words were a jumble, and they only made sense because I knew her history.

Running footsteps, I knew were Jet’s, she swung the gun up, aimed for him.

Not again, I couldn’t lose him too.

Fear nothing, fear nothing
. Elise let out a long slow breath, I jumped at her, tackling her to the ground. My body blocked her, she screamed, something popped, and then heat flared in my chest.

The world exploded in an eruption of pain and screaming.

Jet

E
verything happened so fast. One second I was running toward Jasmin and Elise, seeing the intent on Elise’s face. Reggie had been screaming at them, and then Jasmin tackled Elise, the gun went off, Jasmin’s body had jerked, blood pooled around them, and the world as I knew it came crashing down.

They wouldn’t let me touch her, the paramedics kept pushing me back, Reggie had my arms pinned, or tried to. I think I punched him, and then I was being held back by two of the set guards. Jasmin didn’t move, didn’t seem to be breathing, blood coated her front, and it was impossible for me to see where she’d been shot.

Within moments, the paramedics had her on the gurney, IV in her arm, lights flashing, and she was gone. They wouldn’t even let me ride with her.

Reggie snagged my keys out of my hand; I didn’t even realize I’d grabbed them.

“Get in the car, Jet. I’ll take you to the hospital.”

I did as I was told, brain numb, and that numbness leaked into the rest of me. She would be okay, had to be. The world couldn’t keep moving forward without her. Not mine anyway. Had I told her I loved her that morning, before we left? Fuck, why couldn’t I remember?

Reggie was talking to me, but his words were empty promises, empty sorrows, and words that meant nothing.

Jasmin in my arms, eyes sparkling with desire, head tipped back in ecstasy; her camera broken on the ground beside her, covered in blood.

Never, not once had I ever thought I would be on this side of the fear. In all the times we’d spoken about someone getting hurt, it had been me. Why would it be her? It should never have been Jasmin.

The ambulance was already there, my Spitfire somewhere inside. I leapt out of the car before it had even stopped, running for the emergency room.

“Where is she, the girl they just brought in?” I shouted, the people waiting for their turns cringed around me.

A nurse approached, round body, sharp eyes. “Are you her husband?”

“No, boyfriend. Is she okay? Where did they take her?”

“They’ve already taken her into surgery, you’ll have to wait for the doctor for more information.”

That was it? I had to wait?

I paced down the long hallway back toward the front entrance where Reggie stood outside, his cell phone jammed in his ear.