by Jackson Kane
Inevitably one would always bite.
Jane, the senior executive vice president, licked her lips. Her elegantly simple, collared, silk shirt creased at the elbows as she slightly leaned forward. She wasn’t at all concerned with appearing warm or human. Jonathan was about to speak, but seeing Jane move quieted him immediately. Jane removed her expensive glasses, neatly folded them and set them aside so that she could meet my eyes directly. In massive corporations like this, it wasn’t always the CEO you had to worry about.
“Unfortunately, due to the accelerated film schedule the show must go on.” Cold and sharp, Jane was the quiet knife in the room.
They were worried about the franchise film rights. And they should be. If you’ve ever seen a crappy remake and wondered why they bothered making it in the first place, it’s because they had to. If they don’t do anything with the property over a certain amount of years, the rights to that property automatically revert back to the original owner.
A studio could potentially lose billions of dollars in sequels, toys, and spin-offs that way.
“We feel confident that this next round of auditions will get us the right actor for the role,” Jonathan said after a subtle glance toward Jane.
Funny. In the few years I’d been here, I’d seen two CEOs come and go, but Jane, she’d never once looked worried about her position. Despite the titles, I knew who the real power-in-charge was here.
Even in this tense setting, thinking about actresses set my mind back to Autumn. I immediately recalled the sight of her lying naked before me on that work bench. It stirred my cock enough that I had to shift in my seat and cross my leg. The way we left things… I couldn’t remember a time when I’d been more sexually frustrated. Because of that, I’d brought the memory of that girl to bed with me every night since. Her crooked smile, nervous quivering, and the ecstasy in her upturned eyes when she came…
I gritted my teeth swallowing away the salty, lilac taste of her skin. It turned to ash in my mouth when I thought about what happened to Ashley. I was glad that she was probably scared straight out of this world, even if that meant I’d never see her again.
“The future of this franchise depends on it, in fact.” Jonathan’s thick caterpillar eyebrows raised in an almost believable concerned gesture.
“It also doesn’t hurt that you probably put a clause in the new contracts that forbids actors from suing you over malfunctioning equipment in any previous project.” I smiled without the hint of warmth on my lips. We all knew they didn’t give a shit about the talent unless they were big enough names to throw some serious shade if the studio fucked up. Lionhouse only cared about their bottom line and mitigating damaging liability.
“All legal precautions aside.” Jonathan dismissively waived a hand, then leaned in further with a slightly hushed tone. “We know you’re the best at this, but please understand, the new girl will be trained, Dante, if not by you, then by someone else.”
The implications were clear. Can you handle another actress on your conscience?
“I understand the predicament you’re in, but what you’re asking just isn’t possible. No one will agree to take this job.” I exhaled everything away, but the darkness growing behind my eyes. I hated the thought of another actress going through the meat grinder of physical and mental training just because Lionhouse waited too long to get their shit together. “So good luck with that.”
A shark bite was rarely lethal. If anything it was their way of figuring out what I was. I was a strange four-limbed creature that was in their home. A “hit and run” was their way of seeing if I belonged there.
“Your unique skill set and background has provided us with an invaluable perspective these last few years…” The dashes of silver in Jane’s razor straight, asymmetrical hair betrayed more than just her age. She folded her fingers together in a gesture that conveyed a sense of confident surety that could only come from dashing the dreams of a thousand earnestly, hopeful young men and woman who sat in this chair before me. “And in exchange we’ve always respected your privacy.”
My limbs tightened up, and the muscles in my jaw tensed. I hid the apprehension well, but how long before it was written across my face? I suddenly realized the real reason I was here and didn’t like where this was headed.
One day on a routine dive someone accidentally dumped a barrel full of small white bait fish practically on my head. Dozens and dozens of sharks flooded from their dark holes. One brushed by me and sliced open my wetsuit. A red cloud filled the water all around me and I knew I was in trouble.
When there was blood in the water, there was no telling what a school of hungry sharks might do.
“You’ve become quite the celebrity lately, Dante.” Jane continued, referring to the viral video of me saving Autumn on set. There was no hint of jubilance in Jane’s voice, only the cool, edge of threat. “That must difficult for someone as secretive as you, especially given your noteworthy history.”
“You don’t know a damn thing about my past.” The words rumbled out of me like an earthquake, matching the queasy bubbling I felt in my gut. It was an old kind of hate, one I hoped was long dead and buried.
People are right when they say feeding frenzies cause the water to boil. It might have nothing to do with the temperature, but it was all about heat.
“Oh, of course we do.” Jane wore a wounded expression as if a student had accused her of not being prepared for her own class. “We know all about Mitch and that poor security guard.”
I winced at hearing Mitch’s name, fighting the urge to glance around and see if he was lurking in a corner somewhere. If I had a boogie man it was him. Would I ever be free of that motherfucker?
“You’re a bad, bad man, Mr. Marks.” Jane pulled a thick manila folder from under the desk, removed the elastic band that held the bulging stack of documents in place and tossed it on the table. I didn’t have to look to know what it was. Pictures, records and files from the hard, old days spilled out across the polished oak. “We know what really happened to your father. We also know that Frost and Keats are your brothers, despite your efforts to publically distance yourself from them.”
I didn’t give a shit about Keats, he’d made his own bed. There was no saving that lunatic. But Frost on the other hand… I had hoped he wouldn’t get dragged into all this.
What the hell did she mean when she said she knew what really happened to my father? His crash couldn’t have been more public. The man died on live television.
“We’re a multibillion dollar company, Dante. Did you think we wouldn’t research who we got in bed with?” Jane sounded tired although I knew that was just an act. “It’s quite the chore to keep this information from the police.”
And just like that, life—at least as I knew it— was over.
It was a shame. I enjoyed the idea of coming home and making amends, maybe building a few bridges for a change instead of always being the one to tear them down. I guess some part of me always knew this day would come eventually. In one form or another I’d been running my whole life. I should’ve known this time was no different.
Jeffery’s white gold cufflinks chimed off the hardwood as he set his hands together on the desk and raised a wild bushy eyebrow at Jane. He scanned the documents with a wary eye, but otherwise remained silent. Jeffery was the studio chairman. He was ancient, short, fat and had hair in all the wrong places. His perpetually dour, taciturn face, stuffed cheeks and excessive wrinkles made him resemble more of a Shar Pei in a suit than a real person.
He was part of the old guard, when Hollywood was constantly dealing with human rights violations. He’d been around forever, but rarely ever spoke at meetings. At one time in his life Jeffery was a legitimate gangster, back when that was something to be feared. He and I probably had more in common than everyone else in the room, but despite that, we’d never exchanged more than two words.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way.” Jane looked down at her hands for a moment giv
ing her words room to breathe, eventually glancing back up; her light blue eyes were as tranquil as a quiet pond. “We own you.”
Alone and bleeding in the coral reef, surrounded by hundreds of hungry sharks, I did the only thing I could to survive.
That queasy feeling in my stomach became a cold knife slowly twisting like a key, unlocking the door to something I hadn’t felt in a long, long time. “On two conditions.”
Jane raised a curious eyebrow, but otherwise stayed utterly motionless. She wasn’t about to agree to anything while she held all the cards, but she was curious enough to hear me out.
“After you’ve picked your next victim, I’ll make her film ready. When that job is done you delete everything you have on me—Back ups, copies everything.”
“Now wait a minute—” Jonathan rose as he started flexing his authority, but Jane’s hand on his side stopped him. He glanced at her, irritation flashed across his face at being stifled. He wisely caught himself and let the impotent anger disappear, then sat back down.
I thought about pressing that animosity, but dropped it. There was no way for me to use it to my advantage, at least not now.
“And the second thing?” She asked, mildly entertained.
“You release me from my contract, and we never see one another again.” I gestured to everyone in the room, including myself. “All this shit ends.”
“And let’s say we’re not feeling magnanimous? What do we get out of letting you go exactly?” The entertainment on Jane’s face bloomed, creasing her lips in a stern, humorless smile.
“You know everything I’ve done, right?” I didn’t bother waiting for acknowledgement. I paused only long enough to meet the eyes of each of them before cracking my knuckles and continuing. “Then you know what I’m capable of. If I don’t walk by the time I make that girl film ready, then I stop playing by all the rules. You really want the ‘old me’ on your payroll?”
Jane’s mocking smile blanched. If I didn’t frighten her, then I at least made her a little nervous. If I wasn’t under control I was a public relations shit storm just waiting to happen and they knew it. With what they had on me they could take me down easily, but not before I did some serious damage. It was in everyone’s best interest that I went away quietly.
After a deep breath and some quiet consideration, she finally turned to Jonathan and nodded.
“Looks like we have ourselves a deal, Mr. Marks.” Jonathan got up and walked over to me. He fished out a black key card from his pocket and held it up. “When she’s ready that card will activate, not a moment before. You can follow me personally into the record data banks and watch me scrub your…past from everything we have.” With a knowing smile, he held out the card for me. “Consider it a thank you for your years of fine service.”
I swam like hell.
I left the office with a strict set of instructions, check in times, a film ready date and a key card that held both my past and my future. The receptionist said something to me as I passed in blind haze, but I didn’t hear her. My breathing was fast and shallow at hearing Mitch’s name; my whole body vibrated, building to a fever pitch. I only made it as far as the hallway before the elevator before an old pent up rage got the best of me. It was as brutal, violent anger that I thought was as gone as my old life; turns out both were calmly waiting just beneath my surface—waiting for my inevitable return.
I let out a guttural scream and punched a dozen holes in the gold foil printed wall before my bloody fists gave out. They want some girl film ready? Fine. I’d do that even if it killed her.
I learned a valuable lesson that day. You can’t outrun your nature. A shark is always a shark.
“That’s what I get for doing the right thing.” I said, waiting for the elevator to reach the top floor. Staring at my quivering knuckles I was reminded who I truly was. “Not a mistake I’ll ever make again.”
Chapter 6
Autumn
“Please don’t be mad.” Mom was awake by the time I came back into the room. I closed the curtain divider behind us.
The hospital room was a bleak as I remembered from when we visited grandma when I was young. Mom laid in one of the room’s two beds that were divided by only a sheet. Built into the wall behind her was a dark, wood grain cabinet that contrasted heavily against the room’s crepe-colored wall paper. The cabinet was lined with outlets, switches and brightly colored faceplates and gizmos. Mom was surrounded by lamps, IV hangers, dozens of different kinds of chords, and an adjustable monitor. Rising above her, like a tombstone, was a framed close-up picture of a green field and two bright yellow flowers.
The whole thing reminded me of the yellow, silk rose corsage that was laid in my grandmother’s casket during the viewing.
Finding Mom on the dance floor surrounded by onlookers, the ambulance ride over here from the boat, and racing through the ER with her, all of it had sobered me up real quick. Talking to the doctor especially made my head spin. She spoke quickly and about things that I didn’t understand—technical terms, timetables and odds for recovery.
How serious was this?
It was like being handed the book of my mom’s life, but I read the chapters completely out of order… everyone else seemed to know what was going on, but I was lost. None of this made any sense to me. When I finally stopped the doctor, and demanded to know what the hell was going on, her words hit me like a freight train, changing my life forever.
She didn’t tell you? Your mother has breast cancer.
I flat-out didn’t believe her at first. It was too crazy, to possibly be real. There had to be a mix up, maybe she had the wrong patient or the wrong file. Mom and I shared everything with each other; she’d never keep something like this from me!
Would she?
“Be mad? Are you kidding me? You have cancer, Mom!” That was the first time I’d said it out loud, and the nausea swirled in my gut. If I hadn’t already thrown up once the doctor convinced me that there wasn’t a mistake that this was really happening, I would’ve rushed into the bathroom that second.
“It’s not nearly as bad as it sounds.” Mom offered a weak smile. Aside from being too thin and looking a little tired she seemed completely fine. I didn’t know if that made it better or worse. It certainly made everything harder to accept.
“How long have you known?” I choked back so many heavy emotions.
“Not long.” Mom’s smile became strained before falling away entirely. She took a breath, cleared her throat, then continued in her customary lighthearted way as if nothing bad had ever happened. “It wasn’t like I was charging the tumor rent. If anything, it was an uninvited guest that overstayed its un-welcome.”
“Days? Weeks?” I scoffed at her bitterly. “How could you not tell me right away?”
“We caught it early! It’s only stage one.” She took on a smirk, obviously trying her best to diffuse my growing anxiety. “And everyone knows that’s the easiest stage to beat in Super Mario Brothers.”
“This isn’t a damn video gam—” A flash of heat and pressure brought me to the brink of crying my eyes out, but deep breaths and glancing away delayed the inevitable tears. It took me a full minute to finish. “This is your damn life!”
Our lives.
She was my mom and my best friend. The thought of losing her crumbled me up like discarded aluminum foil. I couldn’t even fathom my life without her.
“Were you ever planning on letting me know?” It was extremely selfish, but I felt betrayed that she was going through all this alone. I would’ve done anything to help her! If she hadn’t passed out how long would she have kept this from me?
Why didn’t she trust me to be there for her?
“Of course I was! Just…” She sighed. “Just not yet. You have so much going on right now with what happened on set, and you struggling with your videos.”
“That’s crazy!” I tried not to be angry at her, I really did. I was just so scared and taken off guard by all this. “None of that mat
ters. I would’ve dropped it all in second!”
“That’s exactly why I couldn’t tell you yet. What kind of a mother would I be if I threw all that on you? Mom blew out her air. “I didn’t want to worry you until we got more tests back.”
“That’s not your decision!” I protested, breathing heavily. The faint feeling I felt earlier started to return.
“It is my body last I checked. Besides, the tumor is still very small. It’s only the size of Mr. Peanut and the day anyone in a top hat and monocle beats me—”
“Stop it! Just stop!” I cut her off. I couldn’t handle it anymore. Why wasn’t she taking any of this seriously? “Stop treating this like it isn’t some big fucking deal!”
“Yes I'm scared. I'm fucking terrified! But so what? What does that get me? I have cancer. I still have to go through this process regardless of what I say, do, or feel!” Mom’s face fell. She punched the bed. All her pent-up frustration vented in one go. The flood gates burst as her typically bright voice cracked apart. Tears streamed down her face. All the pain and anguish she kept hidden behind her fun and funny façade crumbled into the unforgiving light of day. Her heart and soul nakedly crashed against the wood laminate floor. “So let me make my terrible, inappropriate jokes. They make all this feel like it hasn’t been ripped from my worst fucking nightmare. Being positive is all I have, Autumn. Don't take that away from me!”
I stood there shaking, reeling from what felt like a punch in the face. I was so horribly, twisted up inside. Maybe she was right not to tell me. I had only made everything worse since I got here.
Swallowing all my stupid fear and insecurity, I rushed over and hugged her as tightly as I could. We fell into one another becoming horrible sobbing messes, and crying like it was the end of the world. We were so angry at life for what it had thrown at us and at ourselves for how we handled it. But we couldn’t be angry at each other for long. It was because of how much love there was between us that we acted like such idiots.