Free Hollywood Hit by Maggie Marr Page B
Authors: Maggie Marr
She hadn’t forgotten anything at Adam’s, had never left anything behind. She picked her way through the skirts, the bras, the panties, and out of Adam’s room and out the front door. Nikki never looked back at anything she left behind.
*
The darkness of Dresden1 dulled Nikki’s sense of sight but the pounding bass heightened her hearing. Bodies bounced in unison to the outrageous beat the DJ laid down. Christina was ensconced in the VIP section with Striker Ross, the latest up-and-coming, soon-to-be action star. Striker’s next film would be produced by Lydia. A low-level reality star with a well-known Adderall problem lingered around the edge of the VIP area with her overbleached entourage of hangers-on.
Nikki angled toward Christina. She moved through the low-cut shirts and high-cut skirts that flashed tits and ass. She was nearly to the roped-off area when her eyes latched on to him. And by him she meant a man who grabbed her breath and clutched her heart.
She stopped. A sudden sense of being hunted wafted through Nikki’s limbs. And yet she wanted to be hunted by this man. He was tall and thick with sculpted muscles that his black sweater clung to. A perfectly fitted sweater that skimmed over his body. His eyes were so dark they looked nearly otherworldly, as if they were vacant, all-seeing black holes. His jaw was cut hard and his hair was a deep, dark black.
He leaned against the bar. No glass. No drink. Only him. His eyes held her. Held her still. Pinned her down. Made her squirm and yet nearly pulled her to him. She was entranced by him until her phone rang over and over in her purse. Nikki yanked her gaze from the guy at the bar. “Unknown Number” flashed across the phone’s screen. She pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” Nikki said.
“How you doin’, little girl? How you like Hollywood?”
A chill rushed through Nikki's body with the sound of his voice. She held fast to the gasp of fear that threatened to spill from her lips.
“Wh…what do you want?” Nikki stammered out. Her heart kicked upward and hammered hard against her chest. The club dropped away, the thrashing mass of dancing bodies surrounding her dropped away, even the man standing beside the bar, who had grabbed her with his eyes, dropped away. Fear now gripped her like an iron chain pulled tight around her neck, cuffing her, forcing her to immobility.
“I want to see you, pay you back for all you did.”
Nikki’s eyes scanned the crowd. He couldn’t be here, but even so the fear that thrilled through her forced her to look for the owner of the hard, cold voice.
“You’re not supposed to call me, to contact me, ever,” Nikki said. Her voice was firm and she held tight to the panic clawing up the back of her throat.
“Well, little girl, when you ever known me to follow anyone’s rules?”
There was a click and the mean voice attached to an evil man disappeared. Nikki pulled the phone from her ear. She breathed long, deep breaths. A chill chased up her spine. He was out there. He was looking for her. Nikki pressed her hand to her mouth. She couldn't tell her aunt. She couldn't tell anyone. She'd caused enough trouble. She pushed a strand of hair behind her hair and squared her shoulders. She could handle this.
“Nikki!” The sound of Christina’s voice broke through the music. Nikki glanced toward Christina, who was waving and smiling for her to come and join the uber beautiful who inhabited the club. Nikki forced her lips to form a smile. She took a step toward Christina, then stopped and turned back toward the bar, but the black-eyed beautiful man was gone.
Chapter 13
Femmes in Film
Lydia Albright with her billion-dollar box office, high-powered friends, and a career that spanned actress to producer to studio head to producer had seen all that Hollywood had to offer. Yet sitting with her two best and most-trusted friends, she wasn’t certain how to proceed.
“How do we handle
*
The darkness of Dresden1 dulled Nikki’s sense of sight but the pounding bass heightened her hearing. Bodies bounced in unison to the outrageous beat the DJ laid down. Christina was ensconced in the VIP section with Striker Ross, the latest up-and-coming, soon-to-be action star. Striker’s next film would be produced by Lydia. A low-level reality star with a well-known Adderall problem lingered around the edge of the VIP area with her overbleached entourage of hangers-on.
Nikki angled toward Christina. She moved through the low-cut shirts and high-cut skirts that flashed tits and ass. She was nearly to the roped-off area when her eyes latched on to him. And by him she meant a man who grabbed her breath and clutched her heart.
She stopped. A sudden sense of being hunted wafted through Nikki’s limbs. And yet she wanted to be hunted by this man. He was tall and thick with sculpted muscles that his black sweater clung to. A perfectly fitted sweater that skimmed over his body. His eyes were so dark they looked nearly otherworldly, as if they were vacant, all-seeing black holes. His jaw was cut hard and his hair was a deep, dark black.
He leaned against the bar. No glass. No drink. Only him. His eyes held her. Held her still. Pinned her down. Made her squirm and yet nearly pulled her to him. She was entranced by him until her phone rang over and over in her purse. Nikki yanked her gaze from the guy at the bar. “Unknown Number” flashed across the phone’s screen. She pressed the phone to her ear.
“Hello?” Nikki said.
“How you doin’, little girl? How you like Hollywood?”
A chill rushed through Nikki's body with the sound of his voice. She held fast to the gasp of fear that threatened to spill from her lips.
“Wh…what do you want?” Nikki stammered out. Her heart kicked upward and hammered hard against her chest. The club dropped away, the thrashing mass of dancing bodies surrounding her dropped away, even the man standing beside the bar, who had grabbed her with his eyes, dropped away. Fear now gripped her like an iron chain pulled tight around her neck, cuffing her, forcing her to immobility.
“I want to see you, pay you back for all you did.”
Nikki’s eyes scanned the crowd. He couldn’t be here, but even so the fear that thrilled through her forced her to look for the owner of the hard, cold voice.
“You’re not supposed to call me, to contact me, ever,” Nikki said. Her voice was firm and she held tight to the panic clawing up the back of her throat.
“Well, little girl, when you ever known me to follow anyone’s rules?”
There was a click and the mean voice attached to an evil man disappeared. Nikki pulled the phone from her ear. She breathed long, deep breaths. A chill chased up her spine. He was out there. He was looking for her. Nikki pressed her hand to her mouth. She couldn't tell her aunt. She couldn't tell anyone. She'd caused enough trouble. She pushed a strand of hair behind her hair and squared her shoulders. She could handle this.
“Nikki!” The sound of Christina’s voice broke through the music. Nikki glanced toward Christina, who was waving and smiling for her to come and join the uber beautiful who inhabited the club. Nikki forced her lips to form a smile. She took a step toward Christina, then stopped and turned back toward the bar, but the black-eyed beautiful man was gone.
Chapter 13
Femmes in Film
Lydia Albright with her billion-dollar box office, high-powered friends, and a career that spanned actress to producer to studio head to producer had seen all that Hollywood had to offer. Yet sitting with her two best and most-trusted friends, she wasn’t certain how to proceed.
“How do we handle