Wanna Play (Ghost Unit, Book Three) (7 page)

The sun was about to make the horizon but it wasn’t visible yet. The large parking lot was locked in a twilight gloom that created odd shadows and murky dark abysses between the trailers. “Where do you rehearse?”

“The main floor of an empty building just around the corner from the diner. We go in the van,” Jas added when Blaster headed to a large, dented and generally scruffy looking F-150 parked at the end of the lot.

At the other end of the motel strip, several guys were making their way to the film company van. “Do you recognize them?” Blaster asked softly as the two of them approached the vehicle.

“Every one,” Jas confirmed.

“Trust them?”

“All but one.” Jas slipped her hand in his and smiled as if they were the lovers they pretended to be. “You tell me which one is working on more than stunts at breakfast.” They’d reached the men at the van and Jas introduced Blaster.

The four stunt men accepted Blaster with the standard early morning man noise, a grunt and seeming unconcern. It was the fifth man who pasted an ingratiating grin over eyes that were too sharp.

“Blaster, this is Mark, stunt coordinator and security,” Jas introduced as the two shook hands.

“So? Here to see the little woman do her thing?” Mark asked with a handshake that was a bit too tight. Blaster let him win the handshake squeeze with a casual smile.

Mark turned to Jas, dismissing Blaster before he could answer. “Babe, sorry about what happened yesterday. If I’d been up there, it wouldn’t have. Can’t be everywhere at once. I can see why you felt a need for the security of a man.”

Blaster felt the hairs on back of his neck ripple as the moron tried to step between him and Jas. The man went so far as to reach out and grasp Jas’ shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“I’ve suggested we intensify your security. It might have been better to let me handle this instead of putting your friend in danger,” Mark added.

Jas shifted around Mark in a natural-looking move, ending up sliding under Blaster’s arm as if she’d done it a million times. Both her arms going around his waist from the front and back, her body turned into his side. “Don’t worry, Mark. The only danger this man is in is from me.” Her voice was a sexy, purring chuckle.

She melted into him and it became necessary for Blaster to remind himself that she was a damn fine actress. The feel of her rubbing up him to get his arm around her was too natural. Again he was reminded of a feral cat, her tight body sensuously twining around him while she bristled with weapons. His reaction was totally natural, no acting required as heat flash-fired his groin and the “stupid head” tried to rise.

Amazed at the moron’s insulting attitude toward the woman rubbing up his side, Blaster made a point of not even glancing at the idiot, giving all his attention to Jas and making it clear that she was his focus.

“Damn straight.” He grinned at her as he agreed with her statement of independence. Their lips were barely an inch apart and sexual tension swirled around them.

Blaster made sure she knew she was choosing the face they showed. Responding to her with acceptance anyone could see, but not pressing the Neanderthal button. It was her show. Mark was trying to establish himself as the protector when she brought her “friend” into the scene. His display told Blaster more than he wanted to know about the moron. Jas’ reaction added the details.

Mark’s fully inflated ego made it impossible for him to notice that she wasn’t impressed with him. Her aggression-defense skill level was so far above the man, it was laughable. Jas hadn’t shot him down because she needed him for some reason. She was willing to put the pretend relationship up as a shield and was watching to see if Blaster could read the situation or if he’d sink to Mark’s attitude.

Rehearsal was uneventful except for Jas’ frustration. She kept insisting on more intensity. Blaster spent the time leaning against the wall after he’d had a look around the empty building. The fight choreography was interesting. Nicely vicious and deceptively simple while it showed off Jas’ abilities. The men doing the scene with her were standard stunt men, appropriately scruffy for bad guys.

Mark was obviously talented. There were no wasted or outrageous moves in the sequence. He directed the action with an eye to authentic abilities. There was the reason Jas needed him. He excelled at this portion of his job.

Thinking about her putting up with this blustering ass brought a scowl to Blaster’s face. He knew it was part of the business, part of being a gorgeous woman. He’d just never thought about the shit women had to deal with before. Even women who were completely capable of snapping the ass’s neck had to deal with it.

The group was back at the motel by eight-thirty for showers before rushing up to location. Breakfast was eaten on the way to the shoot site. The rest of the crew was already there. Jas only had an hour for makeup and wardrobe and then they were shooting. There was no time to chat privately with either Jas or Barry.

Blaster made sure he was highly visible, introducing himself as Jas’ friend whenever possible. Amused when she noticed his tactic, Jas leaned against him in a calm that wasn’t exactly an act anymore. His behavior told her she could trust him to behave as promised in public. He was a touchy guy, but not rude or invasive. He didn’t get in the way.

Relieved, Jas found there was a lot of fun to be had in this situation. He wanted her. No question about that. It was a circumstance where teasing his beast was a good thing. And who wouldn’t want to have their own tightly chained beast pacing behind those beautiful blue eyes? She even went so far as to brush his lips with hers, right before they stepped out to do the first take.

Blaster hadn’t actually seen anyone taking photos of them as they moved around the set but he had almost no doubt they were. Hopefully they’d gotten the kiss and uploaded that to the source of the trouble.

A military man always assessed a new threat as thoroughly as possible. Right now Blaster was sure there was a computer somewhere spitting out the little information that was public of his military record. He sincerely hoped the bastard had enough clearance to see more than the public material. Since he couldn’t confirm the information was getting through, it was time to set the hounds to hunting.

Stepping back from the set but remaining in a clear line of sight, Blaster fished his cell phone out of his pocket and placed a call. A deep, calm voice answered on the first ring.

“Blaster, what’s the problem?”

“What? Can’t a guy call ’cause he misses ya?” Blaster drawled back to his former Unit commander Gray Winston.

“It’d be a first,” Gray mused. “Where do I send the bail money?”

“Not this time, but hold the thought. What I need is information.”

“What’re we looking at?” Gray’s voice changed subtly from friendly banter to business.

“Do some nosing around and don’t worry about being quiet. Looking for a Marine officer who would have had contact with Marine Jasmina Carson around the time of her discharge. This officer is currently stationed at LOGCOM in Georgia. Anyone questions, you make noise about not being at liberty to discuss it unless someone does something stupid. When you get the officer’s name, I suspect you’ll find what I’m looking for without having to go deep. Concentrate on his entertainment habits and how they might involve unwilling enlisted people under his command, mainly minority women.”

Silence on the other end for a few seconds. “You’re asking a damn dangerous thing. Is the line secure?” Gray’s voice had gone silky with the eerie calm of a predator.

“Hope not.” Blaster’s grin was more bared teeth than humor. “Don’t give a rat’s ass if they have a tap on it or directional pointed at me.”

“Fuck. Your position could be exposed and you want some Marine officer to know you’re sifting his shit?”

“I’d like him to know exactly whose fist is about to be up his ass.”

“Who’s backup? I assume Carson is your concern and shortly you’ll be having some trouble.”

Blaster heard computer keys clicking through the phone. “Jackson still loafing up at your place? I ’spect he’s about done with the little field trip.”

Gray Winston owned an elite security firm that catered to global corporations and their need for multifaceted protection. He handled everything from terrorist and kidnapping threats to corporate espionage defense.

The Unit, though retired from the military, had not ceased being a cohesive group. The bonds forged between them went deeper than blood. As a military commander, Gray had chosen men for his team with instincts older than any military abilities profiles. Descendant of a long line of Seminole warriors, Gray was that indefinable leader who gathered a family around him. Their fit as a Unit was so seamless they became the perfect beast. A fierce fighting entity who’d earned the legacy tag of Ghost Unit. Nothing official about that name. It was only used verbally between the few people who had a view of their actual activity. Ghost Unit referred to their style of accomplishing the seemingly impossible mission without leaving a trace of their passing.

Currently they led separate lives across the country, but were never really separated. Often one or more of them would step in on a job for Gray—or each other. If one called, the entire beast was alert.

“I’m putting you on speaker. Jackson’s right here.”

“Hey, Jack.” Blaster gave Jackson his location before outlining the situation for him. “There have been several accidents on the set but the last two days it became serious. Yesterday they didn’t know I was on site. They used a near-miss shot to spook Jas then sent two locals to attack her that evening. She could have handled the locals but I suspect they wanted her to do something stupid like kill one. With her training, it would have been difficult not to.”

Jackson whistled low. “Jesus. She’s that good? I’ve never read anything about her defensive skills. Poor country boy like you must be dazzled by all that long-legged danger in a woman. Did you see her at the Golden Globes? That dress was a weapon sure to cut any boy off at the knees.”

“Get your head off her damn dress or whatever,” Blaster growled. “I ain’t seen no golden globes around here. I’ve been busy watching a couple professionals circle her.”

“Golden Globes are an acting award, idiot. She was nominated for Best Supporting Actress. Don’t you know who she is? Damn, Blaster, Jasmina Carson is expected to be big. The movie she’s working on now is projected to be a blockbuster.”

“I know who she is and it has nothing to do with all that Hollywood you’re talking. Don’t get your hopes up, Jack. She’s not one of your innocent little princesses.” Blaster’s tone dropped to an unusual seriousness. “Right now the lady doesn’t trust anyone. I need info from Gray and someone deep cover in case things go south for some reason. That means you keep a distance, Jack. The men who did the near-miss shot were professionals. They set a stage and got out clean. It was flawless ’cept I creased one.”

Gray cut into the conversation. “Anything else you can tell me about who I’m looking for? So far, everyone is coming up squeaky clean.”

“She didn’t tell me a name. As I said, she trusts no one, especially not guys with a military background. What I do know is she has recorded evidence of the officer raping someone. The evidence was her ticket out of the military clean. She still has it.”

“I see,” Gray murmured. “What makes you believe this is the person coming after her?”

“It’s her assumption as well,” Blaster added. “All the accidents have occurred around her. No other apparent constant. She said she didn’t use the evidence against him at the time because she had no expectation of surviving his court-martial. She seems to think he might be getting nervous because of her success. So if Jack has heard of her, there might be something to that.

“A lone woman with no support making that accusation is not the same as a respected actress coming forward with evidence in hand. The bastard has to be getting nervous. She could really fuck up his little habit.”

Blaster kept an eye on the filming as he talked. He’d thought her affect on him would start to fade by now. Beautiful became commonplace when it was looked at long enough. He hadn’t been watching her long enough apparently. His other head kept insistently reminding him of that fact. Even talking on the phone he was aware of her every move.

When had his cock become “Jas radar”? And how did he make it stop? Shit, finding ways to make it stop would involve all sorts of experiments. Every one of those tests included her and the creative things both of them were capable of.