Before A Perfect World: Movie Trilogy, Book Two (The Movie Trilogy) (24 page)


She’s neither smart enough to pull this off, nor does she have enough money.”

She settled into a frustrated silence.

“Are you hungry?” I asked, running my hand over her back.

“Yes.”

“They wouldn’t go to all the trouble to take us ten hours away if they didn’t want us alive. They’ll feed us.”

“Don’t talk about food, I’m trying not to think about it.”

I shifted, crawling along the edge of the van again in search of something, anything that might be useful.

“You’ve already checked three times, Keaton. It’s too dark to see anything, and there’s nothing there anyway.”

“I can’t just sit here.”

“Talk to me, please,” she begged. “About something normal. Anything. I keep getting these waves of panic and they make me sick.”

I crawled back to her, pulling her into my arms. She pressed her face against my chest, and I could feel her muscles tighten as she struggled not to cry again.


What’s her name?” I asked finally, my lips against her ear as I cradled her stomach in my hands. “She’s going to be a tough cookie like her mommy. So nothing too feminine.”

“It’s too early to name her,” she replied in a shaky exhale. “And I’m not feeling very tough right now.”

“It’s never too early. I named my kids a long time ago.”

She turned, and I felt her smile against my lips. “You did?”

“Sure. Great character names take planning. I don’t believe in waiting. You give them their name as early as possible and let them become who they are.”

“What are your names?” she asked, covering my hand with hers.

“For a boy, Clint.”

She chuckled, and I smiled into her hair. “Clint. Of course.”

“For a girl, Charlie. Two Cs, that way if we had twins, we’re good to go.”


Charlie.” She tried the name, grinning.

“Charlie. I think it’s perfect for our baby. Charlie Thorne.”

“Charlie,” she said, nodding. “Do you remember the little girl at the park? The one who sold me my charm?”

I recalled the child’s adorable voice, nodding. “Her name was Charlie. I remember. That was the first time I ever imagined having children with you. It made me think of my names, and the possibility of a future… and family… with you
by my side.”


I wish I hadn’t left things like I did with my parents,” she said, pressing the back of her head into my chest. I could feel her struggle not to cry. “I love them, and I know that they mean well.”

“You can make
up with them when we get home.”

She was silent for a long time, and I guessed she was either deep in her terrified thoughts or had finally fallen back to sleep.

The further we drove, the more grave I knew that our situation was becoming. When the FBI had questioned me and I’d gone through the laundry list of husbands I’d pissed off or actors I’d denied roles, they finally determined that there was no one person with enough means or motive to stand out as the killer. Nevertheless, they’d paid visits to every name I’d given them, questioning their whereabouts and investigating their lives.

I thought of Vivian’s suggestion,
that Kelsey was behind it all.

I’d heard enough stories about husbands and wives hiring hit men for their spouses. Did I think that Kelsey was smart enough to organize the murders, finance a henchman, and elude the FBI for as long as she had? Not in a million years.

But then there was her lover.

The FBI had visited
Derrick McLaughlin, the “Yoga Instructor to the Stars,” at the very beginning of the investigation. After he’d presented an alibi and had checked out, I drank an entire bottle of Maker’s Mark, eager to finally sleep for the first time in days.

After I’d finished pounding on him, he’d had to have total reconstructive surgery on his face.
Knowing Kelsey had left him and wanted to come back to
me
had only solidified my suspicions, but the authorities had assured me that he had strong alibis for the murders.

Knowing that the two men who had abducted us were hired hands, I started to suspect that I’d been right from the
start.

I knew that the tabloids had ripped him apart and turned me into the victim, and that his career had been over from that point on. In the days after my breakdown (or psychotic Hulk-smash episode) I’d finally admitted to the psychiatrist that I wished it hadn’t been his face I’d destroyed.

It should have been Kelsey’s.

Had I been given more time to absorb what I’d walked in on, thinking through the weeks leading up to me finding her fucking her boss, I’d have been more equipped to realize
that she was trying to get out of our marriage.

Who she got out
with
was neither here nor there.


I wish I’d spoken to my father again.”

I
had hoped that she was sleeping. I didn’t mean for my words to sound so ominous, and I could tell immediately that she had heard every one of them.


I wish that for you too, Keaton. No matter what happened, or what kind of person he is, you deserve closure. Some kind of finality.”

“When we finish the movie, I’m going to contact him.”

She covered her stomach suddenly, and I could feel the rumble through my hand.

She’s so hungry.

It didn’t help that she’d vomited everything we’d eaten for breakfast in the car on the way over. I broke into a sweat, trying not to think about anything but her safety.

More than an hour passed before we stopped again. The window to the front of the van opened, and a McDonald
’s bag was dropped to the ground with a loud thunk.

I caught the tale-end of a voice on their radio. “…
Thane and Hale. A manhunt has begun, and the FBI is asking that you report any-

The window slammed shut.

“Did you hear that?” she cried. “Keaton?”

“I heard it. Hold on, let’s get some food into you. See? They’re feeding us. And McDonald
’s. Even better than the caterer on the set.”

“I’m so hungry, I feel like I’m going to puke again,” she murmured.

Suddenly, the overhead lights that ran along the ceiling of the van switched on, and her face illuminated before me.

My eyes darted to all four corners of the cargo area, the light only confirming what I’d already known.

Nothing. Completely empty.

“What did they give us?” she asked as I reached for the
food.

Peering inside, I pulled the sandwiches from the paper bag. “Hamburgers. Fries. Two bottles of water.”

“Water,” she cried, and I cracked the seal, handing the plastic bottle over to her.

“Easy
. I have a feeling this is it for a while.”

She nodded, taking a long drink, and then a slower one. “It’s not like I haven’t gone for hours without eating or drinking before. I’m just panicking.”

“I know. Eat slowly,” I reminded her, handing the food over.

We both ate half of the hamburger, saving the other half in case they decided that feeding us was becoming too much of a pain in the ass.

“They’re looking for us,” she said, wiping her hands with a paper napkin. “The FBI. And everyone must know. My family, your family… everyone.”

“They’ll find us. That’s their job.”

“They haven’t found us yet,” she argued, eyes narrowed.

“Hey.” I lowered my voice, reaching for her. “
You’re going to upset Clint,” I warned, gesturing to her stomach.

She let her lips move into a halfhearted
smile, lifting her eyes to mine. “What is with your obsession with Clint Eastwood?” she asked, and I could tell her tone was rhetorical. “You know, he
acted
, too, director. And I don’t know if you noticed or not, but you’re kind of a pretty amazing actor.”

I thought about the last few weeks that I’d pretended to
keep my distance from her on the set. “What, you think I should get in front of the camera?
That’s
cute. You’re adorable.”

I
pinched her nose, and she narrowed her eyes at me.

“I wish you had Ash’s part. You’re better in that character. More brooding. Ash plays around too much for anyone to take him seriously.”

I sighed, thankful that she sounded a little less anxious. “You know, Eastwood almost didn’t act in
A Perfect World.
He had just come down off of his high from
Unforgiven
, and wanted to take a break. Just direct. So he chooses
A Perfect World
to stay behind the camera- but Costner suggests he’d be perfect for the part of Chief Red Garnett. And he was. That was my favorite character of his that he ever played.”

She listened,
shaking her head. “I never saw that movie.”

“We’ll fix that when we get home.”

We rode in silence for almost another hour. When tears began to slide down her cheeks, she wiped them away angrily with the backs of her hand.

“I have to pee again.”

“Hey,” I replied gently, cupping her face in my hands. “Vivian.”

“I don’t want them to hurt you, or me,” she
cried, those blue eyes almost fluorescent in the van lighting. “
Or the baby.
He did terrible things to those girls, Keaton,” she sobbed, and I brushed at her tears with my thumbs.

“Listen to me, kiddo. You have to keep it together.
By the time we get to wherever they’re taking us, I’ll bet you the FBI will have already found this asshole. We’ll be home by tomorrow. Okay?”

“You don’t know that, you’re just making shit up,” she bawled, forcing herself to take deep breaths. “But you sound convincing. So thank you.”

I forced a smile, kissing her gently before turning her back into my arms.

We didn’t stop again.

After forty-five minutes, she squatted in the corner of the van, and we did our best to cover the urine with the paper bag and napkins.

I almost lost it when I finally let myself think about being separated from her. I could continue to tell myself that I’d protect her, but there would be nothing stopping them from tearing us apart once we got to wherever we were going.

The van slowed before rolling to a stop, and the window cracked in the cab.


You’re not getting out. Here.”

He tossed a roll of paper towels back to us, and I assumed they intended for us to piss on them like fucking dogs.

“… Hale’s former fiancé, Matthew Fowler. He and Thane’s brother, Luke, took turns before the press today, their families sitting behind them in emotional tears.


Oh God,” Vivian whispered before the window slammed shut once again.

“Vivian.” I covered our mess with the paper towels
as best as I could before turning her way. “I want you to listen to me. Do not let them get you alone. Scream, fight, do whatever you can. Make it really fucking hard for them to try. Buy me as much time as you can to protect you, okay?”

The gravity of my words began to sink in as she nodded, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’m scared,” she repeated, her hand trembling over her lips.

My stomach turned. I pressed my back against the cold, aluminum wall with her in my arms.


I know.

V for Vendetta

V

The van door opened.

There were hands on my upper arms. The pitch black night stole the full scene from me, and I finally focused on a cabin right behind the man reaching for me.


No
,” I murmured, not even realizing that a sound had escaped my throat.

He grabbed me by my hair and yanked.

“Get her inside.”

An unfamiliar man’s voice choked the protesting scream from my throat.

Inherently, I knew that it was
him
.

The killer.


Keaton?
” I cried, trying to turn toward him.

The man turned to Keaton, reared back, and punched him right in the face.

I lost it then, screaming, not caring that my hair was being torn from its roots. Keaton recovered quickly, not struggling against the other man holding him at gunpoint.


Derrick,” he managed, sniffling at the trail of blood that ran from his nose. “She has nothing to do with this. With what I did to you. Let her go-”

Another slam with his fist, this time knocking Keaton to his knees.


Stop!
What is
wrong
with you? Stop!” I screamed, trying desperately to run to Keaton.

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