Redemption (Fateful Justice Book 2)

by Sara Vinduska

  “Maybe,” Hoyt answered. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is making sure Lash and the other actors and people involved stay safe.”

  “I get it,” Lash said. “I won’t take any unnecessary risks. I’ll defer to you in matters of safety, but you have to keep me in the loop and let me help in any way I can.”

  Hoyt nodded his agreement. “I’ll sure as hell be glad when this film’s over.”

  “Me too,” Lash agreed. His thoughts turned to Lauren. He didn’t like her being here in the middle of danger. What if she was the next target?

  Adam Bishop watched the video playing on his TV screen. It wasn’t the best quality, but you couldn’t beat the action, he thought as he watched himself drag an unconscious Robert Colt across the room, wrap a rope around his neck.

  Good old Bob, thinking he was being smart by placing the hidden camera in his room. But Adam was so much smarter than he was. He smiled. And now he had a lovely souvenir of their time together.

  His cell phone ringing woke Lash up at 7 a.m. the next morning. He grunted a hello.

  “It’s Guy. We’re having a crew meeting in an hour. Main conference room.”

  Guy hung up before Lash had a chance to respond. “Shit,” he muttered, throwing off the covers.

  Fifty four minutes later, he took his seat in the conference room.

  Guy stood, looking slightly paler than normal. “As of today, I will be taking over Robert’s duties as producer in addition to being your director. Susan will remain as assistant director. I know this isn’t an easy time for any of you, but we do have a movie to finish. We’ll resume filming tomorrow morning.”

  Lash’s phone rang again as he was leaving the meeting.

  “I heard about Bob’s death. What the hell is going on there?” Andy said, nearly shouting.

  “I wish I knew. And before you ask, I’m not leaving.”

  Andy sighed. “Just watch your back. And listen to Hoyt.”

  “I got it. I’m not a fucking five year old.”

  “No, but you’re an awfully big fucking target.”

  “Yeah, I get it. Story of my life.”

  Andy laughed. “You do seem to have a target painted on your back.”

  “Keeps life interesting.”

  “Maybe you could try boring for a while. It might help my blood pressure.”

  “You’re boring enough for both of us.”

  “Jackass.”

  “Better than boring,” Lash said with a laugh.

  “Yeah, yeah. Call me if you need anything.”

  He hung up as he opened the door to his room. He’d just poured himself a double whiskey when there was a knock on his door. He cursed under his breath when he saw Ward outside. This couldn’t be good news.

  “We need to talk,” Ward said as he stepped inside.

  “I really don’t know what you can say right now to make today worse, so go ahead.”

  “Officer Rorbach is making all kinds of noise to whoever will listen about you and Hoyt being the ones behind everything.”

  Lash looked at Ward and shook his head in amazement. “Well, that certainly qualifies as making the day worse. Christ! The cops actually think I had something to do with this?”

  Ward didn’t want to mention that his boss had mentioned the very same thing.

  “John Hoyt has killed men, there’s no doubt about that, but he did not do this Ward, you know that,” Lash said. “I’ve killed too, but what would I possibly have to gain from this?”

  “It’s just the opinion of a few local cops, it’s not a lead they’re actively pursuing.”

  “I suppose they think I arranged Eric Sutton’s murder, knowing Corey Fulcher wouldn’t be able to finish the film, leaving the lead role open for me. I’m not trying to brag, but I don’t need to have people killed to land a good leading role.”

  “I know it sounds pretty far fetched, but I wanted to warn you before they interview you.”

  Lash took a breath and let it out slowly. “Thank you for telling me, I appreciate you keeping me in the loop.”

  “No problem, but you better watch your back from now on. This could get ugly.”

  Lash paced the room after Ward left, trying to burn off the anger.

  He should have talked to Ward about getting Lauren to leave, but he’d been so shocked about the accusations he hadn’t thought to bring it up.

  37

  Lash found Ward early the next afternoon in the hotel lobby reading the paper. “Talk to you a second?” he asked.

  Ward put down the paper, folded it neatly, and gestured to the chair across from him.

  Wishing he’d stopped at the bar first for a shot of whiskey, Lash took a deep breath, looked the FBI Agent in the eye. “I’m worried about Lauren. It’s getting more dangerous here every day. It seems like a good time for everyone who’s not necessary on set to go home.”

  Ward narrowed his eyes. “Why are you so concerned about my sister?”

  “I care. That’s all.”

  Ward leaned towards him. “So help me God, if you lay a hand on her-”

  “Calhoun,” Agent Thaler called, walking across the lobby towards them. “We got a lead on the sniper.”

  Ward shot a stern look at Lash, then stood to join Thaler. “Finally. Let’s go.”

  Lash felt the beginnings of a headache coming on after his conversation with Ward as he rode the elevator up to his room. He couldn’t deny that the stress was getting to him. He also couldn’t deny that he wanted to drink more than he should. He didn’t want the drunken night out with Hoyt or the time with Lauren to become a habit. It was too hard to work drunk or hungover, despite what many others in his profession would say. His problem had never been with alcohol, but it had contributed to his Vicodin problem, and he sure as hell didn’t want it to become a problem now.

  At least he was smart enough now to recognize when he needed help. There was no shame in that. And that was progress. He called Hoyt.

  “I want to go to a meeting tonight.” There was no need to explain what kind of meeting.

  Hoyt sighed. “I’ll find the closest one.”

  It certainly wasn’t one of the highlights of his job, having to get Lash in and out of Narcotics Anonymous meetings, avoiding the press and keeping him safe at the same time. But he was damned proud of how far Lash had come and his ability to recognize his weakness. He wasn’t ashamed of it and faced it head on. So Hoyt would find a way to make it happen.

  The meeting was at 8 p.m. in the Lost Springs community center. Rafe stood guard just outside the door and Hoyt sat in the back row next to Lash.

  Much to Hoyt’s dismay, Lash was never one to leave immediately following the meetings. He liked to stay around and talk to people. Hoyt understood that the meetings and socializing were good for Lash, but it made security a nightmare. Especially now. Lash shot a glance at Hoyt, smiled, and said his goodbyes.

  “Thank you for that,” Lash said, pausing just outside of his hotel room door later.

  “For what?” Hoyt asked.

  Lash grinned. “I know tonight wasn’t easy to coordinate for you. And I know you’d prefer to avoid anything to do with that town.”

  “It was no problem,” Hoyt said.

  “Bullshit, but thanks anyway, for being there.”

  “You’re welcome,” Hoyt said.

  Lash felt better after the meeting. He didn’t look forward to seeing Ward the next day, but at least he’d made his concerns about Lauren known, he’d just have to trust that Ward would make sure she was safe.

  The next afternoon, Lauren found herself alone with John Hoyt at Lash’s limo, waiting for Lash to finish his briefing about the next days schedule.

  “How long have you worked for Lash?” she asked.

  “A few years.”

  She decided against commenting on his vague response. “Well, I’m sure you’re never bored.”

  That remark earned her a small quirk of Hoyt’s lips. “Some days are more challenging than
others.”

  She’d heard the rumors about secret NA meetings. “Did you go to the meeting with him last night?”

  “I did.”

  “Does he go often?”

  Hoyt seemed on the verge of clamming up or telling her more. His eyes searched hers for a good long time, then his face softened. “He goes when he needs to.”

  “I know about the drug problem.” Now that she’d started down this road she couldn’t stop herself. This was a perfect opportunity to find out from someone who knew Lash better than almost anyone if she could trust him with her heart. “Does he drink too much also?”

  Hoyt ran a hand over his cropped hair. “No. He drinks. It’s only been a problem once. He knows if he does, I’ll beat the shit out of him again.”

  Again. Now there was a story she’d like to hear. She raised an eyebrow.

  Hoyt shook his head. “You’ll have to ask Lash for the details on that one.”

  Lauren felt his presence an instant before she heard the rich deep voice. “Ask me the details about what?”

  “Nothing important,” she answered quickly as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

  “Oh really?” Lash turned to Hoyt.

  Hoyt shrugged, looking bored. “Nothing important.”

  Lash grinned. “Okay, so that’s how it is.” He lowered his mouth to Lauren’s ear. “I’ll just torture it out of you later.”

  Lauren felt her insides melt with the whisper of his breath in her ear. She turned into his arms. “We’ll see who tortures whom.”

  “Well, that would be my cue to leave,” Hoyt said, “but it’s my job to follow you back to your hotel room. So, if we could get this PDA show on the road . . .”

  Lauren felt herself blush. She moved forward out of Lash’s arms and onto the sidewalk.

  Lash gave her a quick spank. “You heard the man, get a move on.”

  She couldn’t suppress a giggle as she got into the backseat of Lash’s limo. Her giggle turned to a moan as one of Lash’s skilled hands made its way slowly up her thigh. Her entire body tingling, she playfully ran a hand under his shirt and onto his chest.

  He gave her a lopsided grin, then brushed his lips against hers at the same time his fingers moved against the apex of her thighs. She moaned into his mouth. What was it about this man? Yes, he was a sexy movie star. Yes, he was a very skilled lover. Yes, he had an unbelievable body. But there was something more. Something elemental and raw that drew her to him.

  Too soon, the limo stopped and they had to break contact. Feeling flushed, Lauren kept her eyes down as the bodyguards rode the elevator with them to the top floor. As soon as the doors opened, Lash grabbed her hand and led her down the hall. Before the door was closed, his mouth was on hers, devouring her.

  “My God, you’re beautiful,” Lash murmured in her ear.

  She blushed. He had a way of making her feel more beautiful and sexy than she ever had in her life.

  Much later, they sat outside on the balcony, looking at the stars. Content and sated, her eyes had just began to close when Lash spoke.

  “So, what were you and Hoyt talking about earlier?”

  Her eyes popped open but her mouth remained shut.

  He grinned, “I wasn’t kidding about torturing it out of you.”

  “It wasn’t anything bad.”

  “So tell me already.”

  She sighed and sat up. “I just asked him about the NA meeting. If you went often.” She paused. “If you needed to go often.”

  Lash ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t have a schedule. I go when I feel like it.”

  He studied her face. “What else?”

  How did he know her that well already?

  Lash squeezed her knee, inched his fingers higher as he raised an eyebrow. “Torture, then.”

  “He told me you wouldn’t ever abuse alcohol because if you did, he’d kick your ass. Again.”

  His hand stilled.

  “Please don’t be mad at him. I was the one who asked.”

  “I’m not mad.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It wasn’t any of my business.”

  “Of course it’s your business. And I don’t want to hide anything from you. I’ve been to hell and back. I relapsed and Hoyt beat the shit out of me. I’m not perfect. I’m not always a good person. But I will not lie to you.”

  His honest words made her heart stutter towards the point of no return. “Oh Lash, thank you for sharing, and for being here with me.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “The pleasure is mine.”

  She turned to kiss him. “And mine,” she whispered as her hands tangled in his hair and he gave a low groan.

  38

  “What made you decide to do theatre?” Lauren asked softly the next morning. She was sitting cross-legged on the couch in her hotel room.

  “After Shores of Eden, I needed to be away from movies for a while. I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

  “That was when Justine died.”

  “Yeah,” Lash replied, looking down at his hands. “I can’t even stand to watch myself in it. Luckily we were almost done with filming when it happened, cause the scenes I did later . . .” He shook his head. “I don’t even look like the same person. Thank goodness for the wardrobe and makeup people, they performed a near miracle.”

  Lauren watched him steadily, feeling the pain radiate off him. “But you did it. You finished the job.”

  Lash finally looked up. “That’s debatable. I was high out of my mind most of the time when I went back. There are entire days I don’t even remember. If it hadn’t been for Andy and the director and producer both being friends I’d worked with before, things could’ve been much worse. They picked up the slack, covered for me, and kept the rumors to a minimum.”

  “Lash, I’m so sorry.”

  He looked into her eyes, so beautiful and full of gentle compassion. “Thanks for listening.” He stood, then bent down to kiss her. As much as he hated talking about it, she seemed to know just what he needed and he appreciated that she wasn’t afraid to broach tough subjects or to mention Justine’s name. She accepted that he needed to go to meetings to stay away from drugs. And yet, being that open with someone scared the hell out of him.

  He pulled away.

  “Leaving me again?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I need to go over my lines. And you are one hell of a distraction.”

  He stood outside her door, aching to go back in, but it wasn’t fair to her, not until he was sure he’d put everything behind him and could give himself completely to someone again. And he had no idea when that would be, if ever.

  She obviously had no intention of leaving the set and going back home anytime soon. It had been quiet on the set and too easy to pretend things were normal, that they weren’t in danger. But things were far from normal. He was far from normal.

  Maybe he was taking the easy way out, but the bottom line truth was, he cared too damned much about her to risk hurting her. And if he had to hurt her a little now to spare her greater pain later, then that was the way it had to be. But he wanted her. My God did he want her. He just didn’t think he had it in him to be what she needed. What she deserved.

  Instead of going back to his room to study his lines, Lash decided a good workout would help alleviate the pressure he was feeling.

  “You seem to be fighting with ghosts tonight.” Hoyt said, lacing up his boxing gloves.

  Lash didn’t say anything but hit the bag even harder.

  “Don’t let the memories drag you down.”

  They boxed in silence for a good five minutes, but Lash could tell by the way Hoyt was watching him, what he was thinking. “I know, I know. I’m handling it,” he said.

  Hoyt looked hard into Lash’s eyes, searching for any sign that he was heading back down the path of self-destruction. Satisfied with what he saw, Hoyt nodded and looked away.

  Justine was laughing. They were in his bedroom in Wyoming. She stopped laughing and they were
n’t alone anymore. It all happened in slow motion. She was too far away; they were going to kill her, the faceless men in black. Lash was lying on his back on the floor, bleeding heavily, unable to move, unable to cry out. He was cold, so cold; he could feel all his blood draining out of his body. Then Justine’s face slowly morphed into Lauren’s. He couldn’t save either of them.

  Lash sat bolt upright in bed and gasped in a breath. Sweat was streaming down his back and he felt his stomach lurch. He stumbled into the bathroom and stayed there for a long time, sweating, shaking, and sick, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

  By the time he was able to get slowly, unsteadily to his feet, it was 3 a.m. He knew there was no hope of his going back to sleep. He was restless, but couldn’t stomach the idea of going anywhere trailed by bodyguards at this hour, and he didn’t have the energy to evade them.

  He felt trapped. Just when he seemed to be getting a handle on things, something would jump up and knock him off balance. The world was closing in around him and if he didn’t step back and get some perspective, he would be crushed.

  He dropped to the floor and started doing pushups. When his arms gave out, he switched to sit-ups. Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on the present, block out the past. He repeated the words over and over in his head.

  He stumbled through the following day, screwing up his lines more often than not. Somehow he made it through and breathed a sigh of relief after Guy wrapped it for the day. They had a much-needed three-day break between sets and Lash knew he had better come back with his head screwed on straight. He’d managed to avoid Ward and Lauren all day.

  He wasn’t so lucky with Hoyt. He’d no sooner shut the door to his room than Hoyt was on the other side of the door knocking impatiently.

  Lash reluctantly let him in.

  “You want to tell me what the hell’s going on?”

  Lash felt a surge of hot anger. Hoyt may be a friend, but he was still an employee. He summoned his last reserve of strength and reined in his temper. “Nothing’s going on. I just feel like shit.”