Page 42 of The Viper
I moved through the set, my eyes finding Lexi instantly. She was mid-scene, her voice carrying over the hum of the wind machine, soft but intense, like she was pouring her soul into every word. The sun caught her hair, turning it gold, and for a moment, I forgot the job, the threat, everything but her. Then I snapped out of it.
Focus, Dane.
I took up a position near the monitors, close enough to keep her in sight but far enough to blend in. Franklin was in his element, barking orders, his expensive watch glinting as he gestured. The crew moved like a well-oiled machine, but I could feel the tension—everyone knew about Benji’s attack, and it had rattled them. Whispers passed between grips, assistants glancing over their shoulders. The set felt like a powder keg, and I was the one tasked with keeping the spark away from Lexi.
My mind kept circling back to what Troy had said—an inside job. If someone on this production was leaking information, it wasn’t just a security issue; it was a betrayal. I scanned the faces around me: the makeup artist fussing with a kit, the sound guy adjusting a boom mic, the local hires lugging cables. Any one of them could be the weak link. My job was to be there, always, because that’s what I’d signed up for. But the idea of someone targeting Lexi, of her being in the crosshairs of some fanatic or worse, made my blood run hot in a way that wasn’t just professional.
The end of the day dragged on, the heat steady despite the fading hour. Lexi worked through take after take, her focus unshaken despite the chaos. She was good—better than good. Every line, every glance, carried a weight that made you believe her. I could see why Franklin called her a loose cannon; shedidn’t just act—she burned, like she was daring the world to look away.
Between takes, I caught her eye once, just for a second. She flashed a smile—small, private, the kind that said she knew I was watching. My chest tightened, and I forced my gaze back to the perimeter.
Not now, Dane.
But the memory of her naked in the bathroom, her lips on mine, was a live wire in my blood, and every look she gave me twisted it tighter.
Dinner was called, and the crew scattered to a tent by the water. I stayed put, sipping water from a bottle, my eyes never leaving Lexi as she grabbed a wrap and joined Hannah at a picnic table. The sisters leaned close, talking low, their heads bent together like kids sharing a secret. It was a glimpse of the real Lexi, not the star, and it hit me harder than it should’ve.
Noah reappeared around 8pm, his expression unreadable as he approached. “Anything new?” he asked, his voice low. I’d already texted him about the incident with Benji.
“Talked to Benji’s guys,” I said, keeping my tone even. “They think it might’ve been an inside job. Just a guess, but who knows at this point?”
Noah’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look surprised. “Understood. Keep your eyes open. Lexi’s your priority, but if you spot anything off—crew, locals, anyone—let me know.”
“Got it,” I said, my mind already running through the faces I’d seen, the ones I didn’t trust. “What’s Dominion Hall’s play here? This isn’t just about babysitting a star.”
He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re catching on. We don’t do simple. This production’s got eyes on it—big money, big names, big risks. If someone’s targeting it, we need to know why. And who. Charleston is our home. We protect what’s ours.”
I nodded, the weight of it settling in. This wasn’t just about Lexi, though she was the center of it for me. Dominion Hall was playing a deeper game, one I didn’t fully understand yet. But I’d figure it out. I always did.
The night stretched on. Lexi wrapped her last scene, and Franklin called it a day, his mood lighter than it had been. The crew packed up, their chatter louder now, relieved to be done. I stayed close to Lexi, my eyes scanning everything, the shadows, the water. Nothing felt right, not with that itch still crawling up my spine.
As we headed for the SUV, Lexi fell into step beside me, her bag slung over her shoulder. “Long day,” she said, her voice soft but laced with that teasing edge.
“Longer for some,” I said, thinking of Benji’s bruised face.
We reached the SUV, and I opened the door for her, my hand brushing hers as she climbed in. That spark hit again, sharp and electric, but I shoved it down. Not now. Not with a threat out there, maybe closer than we knew.
As I slid into the driver’s seat, my mind was still working. If someone was leaking information, I’d find them.
If someone was targeting Lexi, they’d have to go through me first. Bad luck for them.
But as we pulled onto the road, the marsh stretching dark and endless beside us, that feeling lingered—the one Troy’s joke about surviving had stirred. It wasn’t just a quip. Something was coming, and I didn’t know what.
15
LEXI
By the time Franklin finally called it, the sky had already slipped from gold to bruised violet, and the marsh looked like it was holding its breath for night. I felt wrung out in the best and worst ways—performance high humming through me, nerves frayed from the morning’s scare, heart tight for reasons that had nothing to do with work.
Lucas opened the SUV door and tipped his head toward the passenger seat, all calm competence like the day hadn’t lit every fuse I had.
“Home?” he asked.
“Not yet.” The words were out before I could pretend to be sensible. “Please. Don’t take me straight back.”
He studied me through the last of the light, unreadable. “Where do you want to go?”
“Somewhere that isn’t mine.” I wet my lips. “Somewhere there’s no crew. No phones. No Franklin. Just … air.”
