Jack Colt, now fully dressed, strutted over to the set in a way that showed he’d been fully aware of every person watching him. Angie cued up the music for them to lip sync to and the filming started.
I tried to clear my mind but the images blurred together. Those powerful muscles with the sound of his voice that night and the feel of his lips on mine.
"Cut," Angie called. "Spud, can’t you even lip sync to your own song?"
"What? I'm supposed to be lip syncing?"
Angie had put him in a black and white striped t-shirt with a scarf around his head and an eye patch. It kind of worked.
"You are out of time. Can you just maybe hoist the mainsail or something?"
"How do I do that? What's the mainsail?"
"Buggered if I know but look like you are doing sailor-type things, okay?"
"Okay."
He shrugged and looked confused, shooting a look at Jack. Jack nodded slightly as if to say it was okay. Spud was so his bitch.
"Let's go from the top."
Angie cued up the music again. The song we'd decided to go with, In Your Pretty Party Dress, was one of my favourites on the CD Eric had given me. I'd kept singing the chorus all the time. That's what you want in a song. Something catchy.
"Cut."
"Again. I'm trying to look sailory."
"Not you this time, Spud. Jack, can you try to look a bit more… well sexy?"
Angie actually said that? The same Angie who spent half her life talking about how sexy Jack was? The same Angie who’d just been drooling over his butt?
He winked at her.
"I can't look sexy on cue, babe."
Angie pouted. "Sure you can, babe. Just think sexy thoughts. Think of banging some hot chick. Think about it real hard."
She winked right back at him.
Jack turned his gaze to me. A few of the girls turned around, trying to work out who he looked at. Was he thinking of banging me? He could stop that right now. I'd not given him permission to bang me in his head. That made it non-consensual head sex. That had to be wrong. It was bad enough that I’d had to non-consensually hear him get a blow job.
Heat rose through my body. I couldn't meet his eyes but stared at my shoes. I couldn't resist looking back up again though, to check if he still looked at me. Suddenly, I didn't know what to do with my hands. I tried to move away out of his sight but he'd turned his attention back to the set anyway.
"Want me to help?" asked the makeup chick.
"No, I think Jack can manage it on his own." Angie shooed the girl away with her hands. "Actually while we are stopped, can you fix Spud's makeup? He seems to be sweating quite a bit."
Jack walked over to Spud and whispered something. The two of them laughed and glimpsed my way. I don’t know what they were saying and Jack didn’t look at me again after that but Spud stole a few glances then laughed.
I ignored them. They could act like little kids if they liked, at least they were doing what I wanted. I managed to get myself hidden away in a corner near the lighting rig. I figured it best just to stay out of the way and I didn't want him looking at me like that. I got out my phone to keep myself occupied while they were filming but he seemed to be at the centre of my vision no matter what I did. I didn't want Jack getting annoyed and storming out again. I wanted to see this filming finished. We'd managed to get use of the warehouse for the afternoon but we had to be out by 5 o'clock. There was no temper tantrum time built into the work schedule.
Those damn dragons had eaten me in my game because of the bloody distractions and decided I'd play again, this time focusing on the game but looked up a few second later to see Jack walking towards me. He had his mouth set in a determined line, like he had something he needed to discuss. It'd be to complain about the clothes or maybe he'd decided he didn't like the song or something like that. I figured I should just inch out of his line of sight and maybe he'd forget about me.
Then, all of a sudden I heard a yell and spun around. At the same time, I went flying through the air to land on the ground with a thud, and with something on top of me.
Then a throbbing pain started in my side where I'd landed and I yelped. I tried to disentangle myself from the heap on top of me and became aware of arms wrapped around me and a strong thigh wedged between my legs. I felt safe for a moment, and then I opened my eyes and saw Jack Colt's face centimetres from mine. What the hell kind of game was this?
I couldn't breathe, all the air had been knocked out of me.
I tried to talk but I couldn’t get words out. The world went black and spinning.
He moved off me and I sat up. Beside us, the smashed pieces of one of the lights lay shattered on the ground.
"What happened?"
Jack didn’t answer though. He just walked off, leaving me dazed and aching.
Angie ran over and smoothed my hair.
"The light fell. Jack saved you. He hurled himself on top of you and shoved you out of the way as it was falling. Oh my god, it was so romantic. He saved your life, Hannah. You could've been dead."
Angie's words went in my ears but it took a while for my brain to process them. My head buzzed and I didn't know if anything would make sense again.
"Hey, what did you say? Jack Colt? More like he'd push me into the way of danger."
"Seriously, he saved you. You'd be mush now. And I'm going to kill Peter. He should be making sure he's doing his work right instead of dicking around. I bet he was too busy perving on Jack’s arse to do his job properly."
I figured I should at least thank Jack for saving me. Maybe it was just a gut reaction and he'd do it for anyone. I mean you don't want to see someone being splattered under a huge light, even if you don't like them. It'd be all messy and gross.
"Are you really okay?" Angie asked. "I don't want to sound like a bitch but we really need to get back to filming."
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit dazed. I'll sit here and recover."
"Sweet. If you feel at all wrong, let someone know. We don't want you to end up passing out or anything. And what was it like, when he fell on top of you? Was it all sexy and rawr?"
It had happened so fast, there was no time to feel sexy and rawr. It just hurt. I rubbed my side. No ribs broken or anything. But my leg throbbed in a very different way from the pressure of his thigh against mine.
Peter had climbed scaffolding and adjusted the lights. "All ready to go," he called down to Angie. Then he looked at me. "Sorry."
Well he should be sorry. If I'd died, he'd have been sorry. I'd have sued his arse off, from the grave. Maybe I could sue him? That'd get me some ready cash. Only, who was ultimately responsible for these things? That would be the band, right. And who was the manager of the band… yikes. I'd have to sue myself and I so couldn't afford that.
The music started again and they got in place for filming. I pulled a bottle of water out of my bag and took a swig then settled back to watch.
Chapter 12
Finally Angie called out to say it was a wrap.
"When can we see the final product?" asked Eric.
"Not for a while but I wanted to ask you about doing some work on the graphics for it. Are you free to help out?"
"Of course. Just let me know."
Angie came over to get her stuff. I packed up the clothes and got them ready to return to the stores. When I tried to pick up the bags though, I yelped in pain. No way could I lug those bags around town. Shit. I couldn't exactly afford a cab either.
"Are you okay?" Jack Colt appeared out of nowhere.
"I'm fine. I'm perfectly fine."
"No, you aren't. You’re whimpering."
"I do not whimper. You make me sound like a drowned kitten or something." I tried to pick up the bags again and made a sound that was definitely not a whimper though did sound bloody awful.
"Whimper."
"Whimper or not, I have to get these clothes back to the shops or I'm going to be in a mass of trouble. Unless, of course, you want to buy your outf
it to keep. You did seem to get very attached to it."
He was not amused.
"I'll drive you."
I remembered that awkward drive home from dinner. Then imagined that to the power of infinity with all the driving across town.
"I think I can manage."
Jack picked up the bags and walked off without even listening to me. I followed him. If he wanted to drive me then I guess it was going to happen whether I liked it or not.
He threw the bags in the back of the car.
"Where to first?"
I gave him the address of the store and we took off. He turned on the stereo and even relaxed and sang along to the song.
"What's this song?" I asked.
"You don't know it? Wait, you mean you have never heard this song before? Have you ever heard of The Ramones? Don't tell me, you've been living under a rock for your entire life."
I thought he'd get all snarky and not talk to me but instead he told about when he was twelve years old and he heard The Ramones for the first time. How he'd never really thought about music before then but it was like – bam! Something changed in his life.
"Just listen to this bit…" He turned the volume up on the stereo. "That's what it's about. That's the money shot."
And so I listened. I really listened and it wasn’t bad at all. Then I looked up to see him smile at me.
"Hey, watch the road."
It seemed to take no time to get to the store. He ran the bag of clothes in, while I rested in the car.
"Okay, there are two more places to go. We might get caught in traffic going to this next place though. Bloody peak hour."
"No problem," he said.
"More music?"
"Why don't you tell me about you? What's the real reason for you taking on the band management and dropping out of uni? You’re living in that crummy apartment too. Are you slumming it like a poor little rich girl or is there something more?"
I stared out the window. Suddenly, I didn't really want to talk. The car did not move in the banked up traffic and I watched a boy walk his dog down the street. They stopped every few steps so the dog could sniff something and even they moved faster than we did. The silence in the car got thicker but I didn't want to break it. If I refused to tell him, it'd break this tentative good feeling between us but I had no desire to talk about those things.
"You don't want to talk about it?"
"It's complicated."
"Ah, complicated."
He inched along as the traffic started moving then indicated and swung down a side street. Then raced down another street, not even a street really, but a laneway. He turned so fast that I flew across the car.
"Watch it." If a car came towards us on this street, we'd be dead. There was nowhere to pull over, no room for two cars. I grabbed the door handle with both hands and almost pushed my brake pedal foot through the floor as he drove the car faster.
We got to an intersection and he slammed on the brakes, sending me flying, then wove through the traffic to get to another backstreet and took off again.
I'd stopped talking. I'd stopped even thinking about anything except getting out of this car alive. Maybe I'd have been better off getting a taxi. A taxi would be safer.
Ahead, I saw a light about to turn red. At least he'd stop. Except he didn't. He just went faster towards it, making it barely in time. The car became airborne as we went over a bump in the road.
He laughed. "I love that bit."
I tried to smile. We swung through some more streets and he pulled up outside the second place, this time a warehouse.
He ran in and then I gave him the address of the last place.
"Shouldn't take long," he said.
"Yeah, if you drive like a lunatic."
"Hey. we'd still be stuck back there in that traffic jam if I'd not known the shortcut."
"It's better to arrive alive," I said.
He just shrugged and took off again. I regretted saying anything because he seemed to take it as a challenge. He drove full speed the whole way, pushing it to make the lights and detouring down laneways and back streets.
He slammed on the brakes outside the shop.
"See, you're alive."
He grabbed the bag of clothes out of the back and I told him I could walk from there.
"No, wait here for me." He ran his hand through his hair and gave me a hopeful grin.
"Okay, I'll wait." I scrunched up my nose, curious to see what he had in mind.
He made the drop off then came out and knocked on my window. I wound it down.
"Come on, let's go for a drink."
"Why are you Mr Friendly all of a sudden?"
He grinned at me, in that way that totally disarmed me. How could he go from being so surly to so charming?
"If you're sticking around, we may as well get to know each other."
My common sense told me that I did NOT want him wanting me to stick around but the fibres of my being tingled. You can't really turn down a drink from a guy who'd saved your life without looking pretty damn ungrateful.
I walked with him to a bar so dark and dingy, it took a while for my eyes to adjust after the glare outside. He strode over to the bar and ordered us both beers.
"I'll get it. You know, to say thank you." I didn't want to make eye contact with him so watched the woman behind the bar. It wouldn't take much to believe she had a bat hidden away in case of trouble and it would take nothing at all to imagine her using it.
"I'll get this one, you can get the next round. Let's play pool."
He punched me on the arm as though I were his best buddy. The happy part of me struggled with the part that waited for this all to fall apart.
"You know how to play?"
I shook my head. "No idea. Where would I have learnt to play pool?"
"Just watch me and learn."
He put his money in the slot and the balls plonked down. Then he got the triangle and set them up.
"I'll break."
I nodded and sipped my beer.
He took his shot and potted a big ball then took another and missed. He thought he was so good.
"Why don't we have a bet on the game?" I asked. "Isn't that what people do? In movies and stuff?"
"It wouldn't be fair to bet with a beginner."
"It's okay. Just something friendly-like, to make it more interesting." I put my head on the side and smiled at him, all innocent and beguiling.
"Okay. If I win, you tell me the truth about why you’re managing the band."
I drew my lips into a tight line and looked away from him.
"I guess that's okay, but you have to tell me why such a bad boy rock star lives in that apartment –"
"It's a shithole old warehouse."
"It's worth a bomb. I know real estate and that place can’t be cheap. And that car of yours, it's not within the means of a rocker playing dive bars either."
He shrugged and looked away but his little subterfuge didn't work on me. There was money there somewhere and you couldn't hide it.
"Fine. Loser spills the beans." He drained his beer.
I grabbed the cue, gripping it tightly and walked around the table, deciding where to shoot from. I finally settled on a spot and leaned over the table, propping the cue on one hand while gripping it in my right.
"Wait, let me show how to hold it. Otherwise this'll be like taking candy from a baby."
He unpeeled my fingers from the end of the cue and adjusted them then leaned over me to correct my other hand. The heat of his body rubbed against mine and I could smell that same citrusy scent I'd noticed when I'd woken up in his bed. With his arms around me like that, I could barely think. I was sure the beating of my heart ricocheted right through him. I ordered it to stop. I would not react to his closeness to me. I didn't feel a thing, he could rub against me all he liked, he could leave his hand lingering on my mine and his lips just millimetres from my ear. It did nothing whatsoever.
I squirmed away from hi
m.
"I think I can manage on my own," I said, my voice choking.
I hit out, sending the balls flying. My red ball stopped just near the far pocket.
"Oopsies," I said. "I really thought that would go in."
"Better luck next time."
I went to the bar to get more beers while he took his shot.
He'd sunk a couple of balls while I'd gone but had done no real damage.
A few shots later and he'd sunk most of his balls but I had mine covering the pockets.
"Are you sure you haven't played before?" He narrowed his eyes, appraising me.
"Huh? I've not even got one ball in yet. I thought I'd at least have beginners luck."
I tried to look upset, even stuck my bottom lip out in a pout, but he'd begun to get suspicious. No help for it then, I might as well finish this game off.
I walked up to the table and potted my balls one after the other. As I lined up the black to finish the game, he stared at me.
"You bitch. You pool-sharking bitch."
The black rolled into the hole, nice and smooth.
"Okay, maybe I have played once or twice before. My dad taught me when I was a kid."
"That's so cheating."
"That's so cheating." I mocked his voice. "Hah, if you wanna play with the big boys, you gotta learn how to take it. And if you are sucker enough to believe all that I'm just beginner bullshit then you deserve what you get."
"Best of three?" He ran his hand through his hair and looked at me with faint hope in his eyes.
"Best of three is for cry babies."
A couple of greasers walked into the back room. They sized up the two of us and nudged each other. One was tall and thin with rat eyes. He had long hair tied back in a ponytail and wore a long overcoat even though it was quite warm in the bar.
"Up for a game of doubles?" he asked.
The other one was short and fat. He wore a stained t-shirt and had a couple of missing teeth. He leered at me like he could see through my clothes. It made me shudder just to have his eyes on me.
"Yeah, sure," Jack said. "I'm just teaching my missus how to play though, so we aren't real good."
He was trying that trick on these guys? Couldn't he tell they were pros? Better to just leave now than try it on. The taller one looked like he could even have a knife in his pocket. I tried to shoot Jack a look to warn him but he ignored me.
Bad Boy Rock Star Page 9
