by Alexa Aston
“Yes, but I thought it was for the best to leave because . . . well, I wasn’t good enough for you. Your mother told me that enough times. There were so many other girls in our law school class that were prettier than me. Smarter than me. You should’ve chosen one of them.”
“I chose you,” he said softly.
“You did. I blew it. I figured that out but I knew you’d never take me back. That’s why I decided to come to California. Get as far away from all the memories as I could. Let you start a new life with someone who deserved you.”
Wake was silent. Sydney knew he was mulling over her words.
“Why did I have to learn who you were on some stupid TV show? Why didn’t you tell me about who you really were?” he asked.
“Come on, Wake. Your people came over on the Mayflower. My family was totally splintered. My mom died when I was young. My brother OD’d on heroin. My dad ran through women and then discarded them like used tissues. He stopped talking to me and moved from one woman and movie to the next. I was hurt and alone. I left home and changed my name. I never wanted to have anything to do with him anymore. Hollywood people are flaky and unreliable. That’s why I liked the law. It was orderly and neat and always gave me an answer.
“Like you. You were rock steady. Smarter than anyone I’d ever met. When you paid attention to me, I couldn’t believe it. When you wanted to marry me, I was so embarrassed about my past. I would never have admitted any of it to you . . . because I would have lost you.”
“What about—what’s your name again?”
Sydney heard Herc answer Wake. Though she wanted to scream, she concentrated on how to get Herc back. That was what was important. She couldn’t think about anything bad happening to Herc. It was already hard enough to know that she’d lost Dash—because of Wake. As much as Dash cared for her, Sydney knew ultimately that the man she loved would always need to choose his brother above everyone else. Sydney had put Herc at risk, and she realized things could never be the same between them again.
“What about Herc’s brother? Is Dash DeLauria your lover, Sydney?”
She laughed. “Are you kidding? He’s just some hotshot, egotistical actor. Nice-looking but a little dense. I do like his little brother, though. Herc is very sweet. Nothing like Dash. Come on, Wake. You know how it works. People are hired to do jobs all the time. Just because I’m working with Dash DeLauria doesn’t mean I have to like him. I’ll pull out of him what I can and move on. That’s the way Hollywood has always worked.”
Sydney forced herself to keep staring straight ahead. She didn’t want to look at Dash and crumble.
“Good.”
It was time to make her move. She’d placated Wake. Groveled. She needed to find him—and find Herc. “If you’ve come all this way, do you really want to see me, Wake? Is there . . . is there a chance for us after all I’ve done wrong?”
“I want you back, Sydney.”
“I want that, too,” she said smoothly. “Can I come to you? Where are you?” She deliberately didn’t mention Herc.
“Keep talking to me on this phone, Sydney. I know there are people following you. I’ve seen them. They might try to keep us apart.”
“Oh, those are security guards the studio hires. They do that on pictures with big budgets. It’s for insurance purposes. I can lose them, Wake.”
She pulled out her phone from her back pocket, where she’d kept it ever since her dad was hospitalized. Though it remained on silent while she was on the set, she kept it on vibrate if she was needed. She unlocked it and handed it to Dash and mouthed, “Text Bruce.”
“Still, they might have put something on your cell to see where you are,” Wake said. “Leave your phone and take this one. Go to your car and drive away from the studio. I’ll tell you where to meet me. I’m close by.”
“I’ll leave the soundstage now, Wake. It’ll take a couple of minutes to get back to the production office. That’s where my keys and purse are. Another two or three minutes to reach my car and then maybe five more to weave through the lot and reach the front gates. I can be out on the street in about ten minutes, okay?”
Sydney had started walking as she spoke. Dash followed close behind her. She retrieved her purse and slipped the strap onto her shoulder as she dug for her keys in the side pocket.
Her phone chimed in Dash’s hand. She hoped it was Bruce telling them what to do.
“What was that?” asked Wake, suspicion in his voice.
“Hey, Big Jim, see you tomorrow,” she said brightly, then to Wake, “I just passed our chief cameraman. He got a text, that’s all.”
“Are you in that ancient convertible?”
He knew what she was driving. It hit her that she never should have gone to deliver the teddy bears to Herc. It was her carelessness that had put Herc in danger. Wake had known where to deliver roses to her. He must’ve been watching Dash’s house and seen her stop by this morning.
“Yes.”
“Put the top down. I want to be able to see that no one’s in the car with you.”
“Top down. Got it.” She drew a deep breath as she hurried toward the exit to the outside.
“Sydney, I said you needed to keep talking. I hope you’ve lost Mr. DeLauria by now, even if you did hang on to his phone.”
She knew he wanted her to keep a running dialogue so there’d be no way to warn others where she was going.
“Hold on, Wake. He’s still dogging me.” She deliberated held the phone away but spoke loudly enough for Wake to hear her words. “Dash, I’m going to meet Wake. You need to stay at the studio.”
“The hell I will,” he retorted, playing along. “I want my brother back. I’m going to call the police, Miss Revere.”
Sydney still hadn’t looked at him. She couldn’t. “Listen, Dash. I know you’re upset about Herc, but Wake is my husband. He won’t hurt Herc, I promise. Don’t call anyone. Please, stay at the studio. I’ll make sure Herc is here as soon as possible.”
“You promise?”
She finally braved meeting his gaze. “I do. Wait here. Herc will join you soon.”
Sydney brought the phone back to her ear. “He’s staying put, Wake. You won’t have to worry about him. I’ll come alone.”
They’d reached her mom’s convertible. Dash gestured for her to open the trunk. Sydney inserted the key and pulled it up. Dash climbed in and held her phone up. She read on the screen that Bruce and the team were ready to follow. She shut the trunk.
“What was that?” Wake demanded.
Sydney lifted her leg up and climbed into the driver’s seat. The top had already been down, which made it easy to do with her long legs. “I slammed my car door. Can I start the car?”
Her mind raced as fast as her heart. Dash wouldn’t be able to get out once she reached wherever Wake and Herc were located. The car was so old that it didn’t have a trunk release inside the vehicle. That’s why she’d inserted the key to open it instead of popping the trunk open. Dash wouldn’t be able to help her. Besides, she couldn’t endanger him by bringing him to her meeting with Wake.
Wake wasn’t stupid. If he caught sight of Bruce and the other security team members as she left the front entrance, Sydney didn’t know what Wake would do. Despite her promise to Dash that Herc wouldn’t be harmed, her ex had come unhinged by flying cross country and kidnapping Herc in order to lure her to meet him. Sydney couldn’t afford for anything to go wrong.
That meant losing her detail.
“Wait,” she said quietly before Wake could reply, not wanting Dash to overhear her next words. “I have a better idea than leaving by the main gate and trying to lose the security guards. There’s a back entrance at the studio. It’s not large enough for cars. Only individuals can walk through it. They’ve hustled out big stars that way to help them avoid the paparazzi and had a car waiting for them.”
“Good. Use it.”
Sydney left the keys in the ignition. Hopefully, Dash would figure out she was gone and make enough noise to have so
meone let him out of the trunk. She stepped out of the car and made her way between buildings, skirting golf carts and extras along the way as she kept up a running chatter with Wake about former classmates of theirs. Professors they’d had. Parties they’d attended.
Finally, she reached the small entrance. The twenty-foot-high chain link fence was covered in tall hedges for privacy. Sydney went to the gate. It had been there for so long, most people had forgotten about it but she’d grown up on this lot and was glad she’d remembered it. The gate was so old that it didn’t even have a code in order to access it. She merely turned the knob and it swung open. She scooted through quickly as the gate slammed behind her. A key would’ve been required to re-enter the studio lot—but she had a date with destiny.
“I’m out on the street now,” she informed Wake.
“What’s the nearest intersection?”
She told him. “I’ll start walking west.”
“I’ll pick you up. Hang up now and toss the phone back over the fence. And, Sydney, don’t do anything dumb. You know why.”
Sydney walked along the sidewalk, trying to calm herself with deep breaths. She still had formed no plan but did the only thing she could.
Dialing her own phone, Dash answered on the first ring. “Where are you? Are you all right? Why the hell did you leave me? When the car didn’t start, I kicked and banged until someone let me out. Where are you now?”
“Get to the paparazzi gate, Dash. I’ll make sure Herc is there. In the meantime, I’ll leave the line open but I’ve got to go.”
“Sydney, wait!”
She slipped Dash’s cell into the side pocket of her purse as a dusty gray car turned the corner in front of her. It slowed as she approached. Wake was at the wheel. She didn’t see Herc at first and then caught sight of him in the rear seat. A deep breath whooshed from her. At least he seemed unharmed.
Wake stopped the car. “Get in,” he ordered. “Front seat.”
Sydney opened the door and rested her right knee in the passenger seat. She gave Herc a bright smile. “Hey, Herc.”
Swollen, red eyes gave away how much he’d cried. She glanced and saw a zip tie bound his wrists. Anger bubbled through her.
“All of you in the car, Sydney. Now.”
She faced her ex-husband. Several days of stubble covered his face. His perfect hair hadn’t seen a stylist’s scissors in months. His eyes held a dangerous gleam.
“Let Herc go and I’ll get in.”
Wake latched on to her wrist. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“What do we need him for? He’s just a big baby, Wake. We don’t need him. Cut him loose.” She hated saying that in front of Herc but she’d rather have his feelings hurt than what might become much worse if she couldn’t get Wake to leave Herc behind.
Wake studied her. Sydney tried to look contrite and meek. As a gesture of good faith, she slipped into the passenger’s seat but didn’t close the door, letting her right leg dangle outside the car.
“Get out!” Wake yelled.
Herc jumped. He started crying again, snot dangling from his nose. Sydney didn’t know if Herc realized what he was supposed to do.
“He means you, Herc. Get out of the car,” she said evenly.
“My hands hurt, Sydney.” Herc leaned his face into his shoulder and wiped his nose against his Mickey Mouse T-shirt.
“I know. Dash will help you. Can you pull on the handle?”
“Okay.” Herc opened the rear door. He looked back at her, his bottom lip trembling. “Where’s Dash?”
“He’ll come find you, Herc. Go sit on the sidewalk. Dash will drive around the studio and be looking for you, even around the back where I came through the paparazzi gate. Stay here and don’t talk to anyone until you see him, okay?”
Sydney hoped Dash had overheard their conversation and would know exactly where to find Herc.
“Okay.” Herc scooted out of the car and pushed the door closed with his hands.
With Herc out of the car, Sydney reached over and shut her own door. Wake floored the accelerator and her purse fell to the floorboard. She watched Herc in the side mirror as he faded from sight.
Wake took her left hand and brought it to his lips. He brushed a kiss against her knuckles. Sydney froze in revulsion, swallowing hard to keep from gagging.
“It’s good to see you, Sydney.” Wake laughed.
CHAPTER 29
Dash took off running, not having any idea where to go. He’d never filmed on the Sampson Studios lot and didn’t have a clue where Sydney wanted him to go. Tall soundstage buildings rose on both sides of him. The street teemed with extras dressed as everything from Roman gladiators to hookers. He stopped several people but no one could tell him the location of where he needed to be.
As his frustration grew, a golf cart headed in his direction. Dash stood in the middle of the street and waved it down. The cart slowed and he saw a kid barely out of his teens driving it.
“Where’s the paparazzi gate?” he demanded.
“Never heard of it. Now, move. I’ve got to get to—”
Dash had already rushed from the front to the side of the vehicle and gripped the shirtfront of the young man. He was ready to toss him from the golf cart and take off when he spied Ron Sampson. The studio head was about to pass him from the opposite direction, driving another golf cart. Dash released the skinny, acne-scarred kid and ran toward Ron.
Flagging him down, Ron stop the cart. “Hey, Dash.”
“I need to get to the paparazzi gate now, Ron. Please tell me you know where it is.”
Ron laughed. “I haven’t thought about that in years. We used to hustle—”
Dash jumped into the passenger seat. “It’s life or death, Ron. Take me to it.”
Without asking any questions, Ron floored the pedal. He drove skillfully, honking when he needed people to get out of the way and then cutting between soundstages until they approached the northeast end of the lot. Dash had kept the phone up to his ear but couldn’t really hear anything from Sydney’s end anymore, only a dull noise that sounded like a bad engine. He assumed she’d shoved the cell into her purse to hide it from Wake. If so, all conversation on that end was muffled.
Dash tried to calm himself, though he was as rattled as he’d ever been. It would upset Herc if his big brother came unglued before him, especially after the traumatic experience Herc had gone through during his time with Wake Marshall. Dash reined in his emotions and went totally Zen.
“This is it,” Ron informed him as he stopped the cart.
Dash glanced around. A twenty-foot-high chain link fence ran along the rear of the property. Thick bushes as tall as the fence covered it so that privacy was guaranteed.
The two men got out. Ron pointed and said, “There’s the gate. We used it back in my early days in PR to smuggle out actors we wanted to keep away from the press. It’s only large enough for a person to go through. I’d have a car waiting in back on the side street to pick up whoever came through.” Ron placed a hand on Dash’s shoulder. “Let me know what I can do.”
Dash nodded and ran to the gate. It had a knob he could turn. No code was needed. He pushed through it and glanced to his right as he came out. Nothing. He stepped away from the gate and it slammed behind him as he turned his head to the left.
Herc!
He would know his little brother anywhere but especially that stubborn profile. Dash raced a block down the street to where Herc sat hunched on the sidewalk, his arms crossed protectively against his chest. Two men stood next to him, a black SUV behind them. No other cars were in sight. Herc shook his head vehemently as they spoke to him. Just as Dash arrived, another SUV pulled up. Bruce jumped out.
“Herc? Hey, buddy, how are you?” Dash asked.
His brother’s head shot up, a huge smile breaking out. Herc pushed himself to his feet as Dash enveloped him in a hug. Herc’s fingers clung to Dash’s shirt. Heavy sobs racked his body. They tore at Dash’s heart and made him want
to rip Wake Marshall into tiny pieces.
“You’re fine, Herc,” he reassured. “Everything’s going to be all right. I promise.” Dash gripped Herc’s shoulders and held him at arm’s length to study him. Thankfully, he didn’t see a mark on his brother. The zip ties around his brother’s wrists did wash a wave of anger over him, but he kept it in check.
Looking at one of the security guys, he said, “Get these off him.”
“We tried to, Mr. DeLauria. He wouldn’t let us.”
Dash noticed the man who’d spoken held a Swiss army knife in his hand. He looked at Herc. “These are some friends of mine, buddy. They want to cut through this plastic stuff, okay?”
“Sydney said not to talk to anyone except you, Dash. I didn’t know they were your friends.”
“That’s okay. You did exactly the right thing. Sydney would be proud of you. Now, hold your arms out. Good.”
With one slice, the ties came off.
Bruce stepped forward. “We’re going to need to debrief Herc.” He motioned to the man with the knife. “Let Herc get in the car.” He looked back at Herc. “We’ve got some ice-cold Cokes in the car. I’ll bet you’re thirsty, Herc. Would you like one?”
“Can I, Dash? This is a special occasion, right?”
He only let Herc drink soft drinks every so often. Their code phrase was special occasion. Dash couldn’t think of a more apropos time than now to celebrate Herc’s return.
“It sure is. Save one for me,” he told his brother. Dash watched Herc climb into the SUV and looked back at Bruce. He held up the phone that was still in his hands. “I’ve got Sydney on the line but I can’t hear anything being said. Do have some kind of special equipment—”
Bruce took the phone from him and immediately disconnected the call.
“What did you do that for?” Dash roared.
“We’re already tracking her. The line being open on this end could put her in danger, especially if Marshall knew she’d left it where others could hear.”
“Then how—”
“A woman may change purses but she always has her keys with her. We put a tracker on her keyring and another inside her cell.”
