METHOD

by Kate Stewart

  “Is he paying you?”

  “Yeah, I pay all the bills, so we’re safe there. But honestly, right now, I’m unsure if I even have a job.”

  She pulls out of the terminal and sighs. “If he won’t even work with me, what am I here for, you know? Leann is constantly calling because the fucking crew won’t keep their mouth shut about what’s going on. I think it’s purposeful to help promote the movie. He won’t even address the PR shitstorm he’s causing.”

  “Take the night off.”

  “No, he’ll be furious,” Nova says, navigating us out of the airport.

  “Or he won’t notice,” I say pointedly. “Nova, I’m so sorry. It’s been no better at home.”

  “You think this is about Blake?”

  “I know it is.”

  “I’m worried about him,” she says, her eyes filling. “I think he’s gone off the grid.”

  “Or it’s just good acting,” I try to remind her, more furious than I’ve ever been. Nova is Lucas’s most valuable asset.

  “What should we do?”

  I shrug and let out a heavy breath. “I guess we’ll know in a few weeks when filming wraps.”

  “It’s never been this bad,” she says, shuddering.

  “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what else to say.”

  “It’s my job, I’m just at my wits’ end with him.” She glances over at me.

  “Do you want to drop your stuff at the hotel? I got you a key card to his room.”

  “No, let’s get to the set.”

  “Okay,” she says, taking a few turns that lead us to a long stretch of road.

  “I’ll be honest. I don’t know if I can keep working with him if this is going to be the new norm.” She sniffs, wiping a tear from her face. “He’s scaring the shit out of me.” I take in the fading El Paso skyline and turn to face her from my seat.

  “Nova, you have to trust him. He would never hurt you.”

  “I’m trying. I just don’t know if I can at this point,” she says, leaning up on her seat, searching the road to look for the turnoff. “I’m really creeped out.”

  “If you want to look for something else, I’ll understand.”

  “I’m under contract with him. I’ll finish it out. You said things are bad at home?”

  “I don’t even know how to explain it.”

  “Well, if it’s anything like it is here, I wouldn’t blame you if you kicked rocks for a while.”

  “What does Wes say?”

  “He’s being tolerant because he’s too happy with the results.”

  “It’s that good?”

  “So good, incredible,” she says honestly. “And, God, I wish it wasn’t. I don’t want to encourage this shit. This is not Lucas.”

  “I know,” I say softly. “It’s Nikki.” We share a mutual look of disdain over the seat.

  “You know what’s sad? I’ve seen this before, not to this extent, but similar and I’ve heard the stories too. It’s like once they decide to let it take over, there is no limit to what they will do. Whatever it takes to keep it authentic. But, never, would I ever have expected this from Lucas.”

  “That’s the point.”

  “Without totally throwing myself under the bus just in case I still have a job, I think the whole thing is ridiculous.”

  “But it’s the best he’s ever done?”

  She grips the wheel tight in frustration. “Yes.”

  “So what scene are they on?”

  She visibly pales and glances over at me. “It’s like you’re cursed.”

  Of course.

  “Listen, I know technically Lucas is your employer but if he’s not listening to you anyway, I’m giving you the night off. Take it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Nova finds her turn, and it takes the better part of twenty minutes during sundown to get to the set. By the time we do, I gawk at the sight ahead. While the El Paso desert is the perfect backdrop to the scene, it’s pitch black now aside from the set lights. Our headlights barely help the visual on the road ahead, and it’s a bit creepy as we approach, nothing but the breeze drifting through the car. All we can hear is silence as we head toward the stadium-like illumination surrounded in a sea of nothingness.

  “This is creepy.”

  “Agreed,” Nova says. “I’ll be happy when we get back to LA.”

  I turn to look behind us, and all I see is black.

  “I don’t know how I feel about you going back down that road alone.”

  She timidly lifts a shoulder, “Uh, I won’t be.”

  “Crew?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh, good for you. Who is he?”

  “She.”

  My jaw drops. “Nova, how in the hell did I not know this? I thought you were straight.”

  “I was?”

  I cross my arms. “Explain.”

  “It’s my ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend. At first, it was out of revenge and then it wasn’t. Sounds like a plot, right? I’m a terrible person.” She parks the car at the edge of the motorcade and briefly palms her face. “I think I’m in love with her.”

  “Can’t be wrong if it makes you happy,” I tell her. “And be happy, Nova. Be so happy and cherish these firsts, you won’t get them again.”

  When she remains quiet, I glance her way.

  “What?”

  “Okay, so he’s being impossible, but you two are different. You can get through to him.”

  “It’s not Lucas.”

  That statement is my mantra, my saving grace, my hope, and my deniability.

  She reaches over and pulls me into a hug. “Well then, I hope like hell you can get through to Nikki Rayo.”

  When I reach the set, I stand behind Wes and the cinematographer as they both chat with the man who unmistakably is the AD Lucas fought with, evidenced by the swollen nose and fresh black eyes. Cringing at the amount of damage, I survey the scene and easily find Lucas sitting inside a seventies model Coupe de Ville behind Adriana—who is parked sideways in a similar car.

  I know exactly what’s about to go down and I brace myself for impact as Kelly, a producer who worked with Lucas on another movie, walks up to greet me.

  “Hey, Mila, how are you?”

  “I’m good, Kelly, how are you? It’s been a while,” I acknowledge her in the same friendly tone, while never taking my eyes off Lucas. He’s dressed to the nines in a well-fitted suit reminiscent of the era. His dark hair is slicked back, jaw set in a firm line, and I know he’s spending the last few seconds mentally prepping before go time.

  “It has been a while. They’re keeping your boy busy.”

  “As are you,” I say, lifting my tone playfully finally glancing her way.

  “Sorry about that,” she offers.

  “No, you’re not,” I fire back, and we share a smile.

  “Guilty, but with the way he’s nailing it, I don’t foresee going over in production time.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “Beneficial to both of us, but it’s always good saving money,” she retorts.

  “Heard about last night,” I say, wincing.

  She waves her hand. “Ugh, men. They say we could never rule the world due to PMS, but they forget so easily about their constant cock fights. It’s fine. We got through it.”

  “Good, good to hear. Any talk of legal ramifications?”

  “Wes is trying to work that out, but he uses that one often.” As if he knows he’s being talked about, the AD looks our way. “So, if he wants his steady paycheck, then he best bend a little.”

  “Do you know what was said?”

  “Not the details but I’m sure it went something like…” She puts her hands up to mock fighting puppets.

  “My ego is bigger than yours.”

  “My ego is shinier.”

  “Mine has more horsepower.”

  We both burst into laughter and get strange looks from a few on set.

  Kelly nudges m
y shoulder with hers. “He’s killing it. I’m calling it now…if they do a good enough job in postproduction, your husband is going to be the most in-demand actor on the planet.”

  It’s all he’s ever wanted, and I can’t deny the pride that momentarily trumps the concern. “He’s earned it.”

  “Well, I’m heading out. I have a martini and a hot bath calling. Sure, you want to stay for this?”

  “No.”

  We share a smirk, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Me neither,” I say, knowing mere weeks ago I could have come up with a hundred reasons.

  “Good to see you, Mila.”

  “See you, Kelly.”

  Just as she leaves me, the assistant barks through the megaphone. “Rolling.”

  Taking a step forward to get a clear view, I mentally run the pre-sequence in my head. It starts in the desert with Anya, Nikki’s wife, being dragged out of the car by one of his soldiers. Nikki then executes each man kneeling in front of the headlights with his revolver. Once he gets to his wife’s brother, she flings herself over him to protect him, pleading for his life. Nikki rips her away, pointing a gun to his head and shoots him point blank. Terrified, she runs away screaming and makes a beeline for an idling car and takes off. Nikki laughs manically, following behind her in his coupe which leads to an aimless chase around a desert she can’t navigate. Anya’s car screeches to a halt when she realizes she can never outrun her husband and resigns herself to confront him. It’s at this point they’ve set up the scene, where she’s accepted her fate.

  The marker is snapped and “ACTION!” is called.

  Anya immediately starts slamming her manicured hands on the wheel sobbing before she bounds out of the car colliding with Nikki full force, her fists pounding on his chest as she fights with her grief and the monster she married.

  “You bastard! He didn’t turn on you, he didn’t say a word!”

  Nikki smiles without an ounce of pity as she repeatedly strikes him. He allows her very little before becoming fed up and grips her by both her hair and the edge of her coat, dragging her toward his car.

  Anya is still fighting as they struggle in front of Nikki’s hood.

  “Kill me,” she screams. “Kill me too, you son of a bitch. Kill me too!” He stops and looks down at her with a sick sort of reverence. “This is a good look on you.”

  “I’ll never love you again. Not like I did. You destroyed everything. You’re disgusting.” She fights him, scratching at his jaw, clawing at his shirt until she sinks into him, tears streaming down her face. It’s all too familiar until he licks the blood from her cheek and makes her taste it as she cries into his mouth. And with one swift move, he has her pinned to the hood, his kiss deepening as my heart and head begin the ever-present battle. Refusing to look away, I watch as their lips connect, their chemistry sizzles as she gives in completely and allows his assault.

  I’m as ravaged as her and experiencing all she feels as she visibly weakens, the fight leaving her. Heartache shines in her eyes, making her declaration nothing but a lie, and in those seconds, I identify with her more than I care to admit. But in the next second, I am her.

  “Come here, Mrs. Walker,” Lucas says from only feet away from where he stands half submerged in the lagoon. Tilting my head back to wet my hair, I take in the sight of him in front of the waterfall. Droplets of water rest on his thick black lashes while others stream down the sharp angles of his nose and jaw, his onyx hair slicked back to give me an arresting view. Brilliant green eyes glitter over me in reverence and appreciation. It’s unnerving just how breathtaking he is, but the ring on my finger and the look in his eyes are more than enough for me to embrace it. I’m irrevocably his, and we’ve been left completely alone to our own devices. It’s another perk I’m all too happy to take advantage of. We’re on a honeymoon straight out of a dream, surrounded by lush tropics in the cool blue iridescent water. I swim over to where he stands and wrap my arms around his neck.

  “Yes, husband?”

  He doesn’t utter a word, but I can feel the depth of everything he’s trying to convey before he slowly leans in and takes my lips. They part naturally in a gasp as he thrusts his tongue in, filling me up to the brink of something more than love, something close to supernatural. The slow thrust of his kiss coaxes me into the most blissful of states and my whole body sighs in to him. When he pulls away, we press our foreheads together. I’m too overwhelmed with emotion, too stunned at the daydream I’m still dwelling in, and the undeniable strength of our connection.

  “Still surprises me too,” he murmurs, reading my thoughts. “You are my life, and I am yours.” Gentle eyes roam me. “Every piece belongs to me.”

  Sliding my thumbs across his jaw, I nod. “And to me.”

  He nods, his eyes imploring. “Only you, Mila, I swear it. You’ll be the only one who gets them all.”

  “No,” I gasp through the distance between us, at the separation I feel from that moment to this one. Promises and actions collide as I lose myself in the agony of watching it unfold, his words twisting from the purest form stemmed from the deepest kind of love into an agonizing lie.

  I tell myself I imagined the sight of it, that it didn’t happen, until it happens again and again. I see the same thrust of his tongue into her mouth. His hands are touching her, the hands that belong to me, my hands, my lips, my mouth. All the parts that belong to me now belong to her because he’s kissing her, he’s really kissing her and what’s left of my hope dismantles in ashes at my feet.

  Rule number three: Every piece belongs to me.

  A muffled sob escapes my lips, and I sense the stare of a man next to me but keep my eyes fixed on my deceitful husband. It took days, months, and years to build us, and with one final act, he’s destroying it all. It goes by in a blink, but the image burns itself into my memory desecrating my heart and destroying what’s left of my trust.

  Lucas pulls away suddenly, a sinister grin in place as he sneers above her. “You don’t love me anymore? Shame,” he whispers a breath from her lips. “I’ll take loyalty instead.” Lucas flips her then, pulling up her skirt and savagely ripping her panties away.

  In my head and heart, I’ve already departed, but I’m a hundred yards away when I hear the unmistakable, “Cut!” ring out in the distance.

  Two hours later, I find myself in front of his hotel room. They wrapped shortly after a few more takes, and I’ve been forcing myself to try to get a grip before I confront him. At least that’s what I tell myself I’m doing. Another part of me thinks I’ve been waiting on Adriana to show up, but if that were the case, someone on set would have told her the wife had arrived, and the party was temporarily over.

  Closing my eyes, I try to stifle back the tears. We hadn’t been intimate since that day in his trailer weeks ago, if you can call it that.

  Is Lucas capable of doing that to me? Am I a fucking fool who let my husband hide his infidelity behind an acting job?

  Fury surges through my veins as I open the door with the key card Nova gave me. I spot him on the suite couch with a half-eaten sandwich next to his script. He’s flipping that fucking coin in his fingers as if my world hasn’t just ended when his eyes drift up. He doesn’t look at all surprised to see me.

  “I told you not to come.”

  I step inside the room and shut the door.

  “Did you know I was watching?”

  Silence.

  “Answer me! What are you doing?!”

  He smirks, but not the smirk I love, the smirk I loathe.

  “I think that’s obvious,” he says snidely.

  “Lucas,” I say, my tears blinding me, “why?”

  He lets out an audible sigh. “Look, Mila—”

  “Don’t you dare! You fucking promised me! Those are sacred promises we made! Those mean something to me! No fucking tongue, it’s in the contract. We put it specifically in the contract!”

  “You need to calm down right now,” h
e says in a tone he’s never, ever used with me. “And if you can’t do that, you need to leave.”

  “Leave? Are you fucking serious? No tongue! It was your rule. You’re the one who made it. I watched you kiss her over and over, you bastard! Are you fucking her?”

  “You’re embarrassing yourself,” he says, looking back down at his script. “Your husband has never been unfaithful.”

  I walk over and clear the table in front of him, loving the horrific crash against the wall. Angrier than I’ve ever been in my life, I lean down so we’re face-to-face. He chuckles dryly, his gaze deadly as he challenges me with a look alone. In those seconds I hate him, and it’s nothing I’ve ever felt for him. “Has Nikki been unfaithful?”

  His eyes dull as he looks over at me. “I don’t repeat myself.”

  “Far be it from you to stoop so low. You’re purposely sabotaging our marriage, in fact, you’re disrupting all of your relationships and for what? Why? You’re going too far, Lucas! Nova is about to quit, your director probably won’t ever hire you again, and your wife is about to leave you!”

  Not even that statement changes anything about his expression, his posture. “I want my husband back, right fucking now! Lucas now!”

  Openly, I sob in front of him while he stares at me as if I’ve just spit on his sandwich. I’m a nuisance, a bother, someone he has to deal with.

  “This is not what I signed up for,” I say vehemently. The man I married would have swallowed me in his arms by now, taken my face in his hands along with my pain, and done his best to do away with it, but he isn’t here. “So,” I cough out incredulous, “we don’t follow our rules, anymore? Okay, maybe I’ll start breaking them too.”

  “Now you’re threatening me?” he says, shaking his head slowly while clicking his tongue.

  “Yeah, I am,” I say crossly.

  “This is classic,” he scoffs. “Maybe you don’t feel like you’re getting enough attention,” he says with a hiss as he stands and grips my hand jerking me toward him. He presses his bulging cock between us and I hate myself for wanting it, wanting him any way I can get him. He takes my lips, his kiss is violent, and I fight him, disgusted. I pull away from him, covering my mouth in horror.