Ruined (Barnes Brothers #4)(15)

It wasn’t often that Marin found herself speechless, but in that moment, she couldn’t think of much of anything to say. After a few moments, she finally found her voice and offered a weak smile. “JD, as much as I’ve always enjoyed working with Sebastien, I think he’s . . . done with it. He shows no interest in coming back.”

“That’s because he thinks he can’t. He thinks nobody wants him. He’s dealt with a lot of shit this past year and we’ve left him alone to do it.”

“I haven’t left him alone.” She stared him down.

“True.” JD nodded, stroking his chin. “Granted, he hasn’t jumped on you like a pissed-off bear the way he has with everybody else.”

“Even he had, I wouldn’t have left him alone.” She knew Sebastien hadn’t been easy to handle the past year, and more than once, she’d had to smack him in the head—had even done it physically once or twice—for how he’d treated people. But the last thing he’d needed was to be left alone.

“I suspect you wouldn’t have. The thing is, Marin . . . you can still reach him. Some of us can’t.” Leaning forward now, JD held her gaze. “Some of us felt it was best to back off for a while, but maybe we let it go for too long. It’s just . . . nobody has been able to reach him the way you have.”

“But I . . .” She floundered, struggled to find a rebuttal to that.

“But what, Marin?” JD studied her. “What are you afraid will happen if you go out there and talk to him? I’ve already tried. He shut me down, just like he has a hundred times. That’s the worst thing that can happen to you. Or . . . you could reach him.”

Marin had no argument for that and she looked back at the script for the movie. Inspired by a book of the same name by author Michael Townsend, Torn had become a runaway bestseller several years back. If it hadn’t been for Townsend’s wife, the movie might have already been in theaters. But Linnea Townsend’s persistent cough had turned out to be something much more serious.

The cancer in her throat had been far advanced by the time it was discovered.

The movie was put on hold.

Linnea had died six months earlier and Marin had gotten the call that the project was back on just a couple of weeks ago, but the actor previously contracted to play the male lead wasn’t going to be available for quite a while, thanks to schedule conflicts. Honestly, Marin didn’t mind. She’d never much cared for the guy anyway.

And they wanted Sebastien.

She closed her eyes and tried to picture him in the role.

The male lead was known simply as Rand, and he was an assassin for a local crime syndicate. After a cop refused to back down over incriminating evidence he had uncovered, Rand was supposed to kill the cop’s wife, Marlena, as punishment, but he ended up developing an obsession with her and became her silent protector, killing those who were sent after he refused the job. Even when her husband was killed shortly before he could testify, the head of the criminal organization wanted Marlena dead, but Rand continued to watch over her, eventually bringing down the crime lord himself.

Rand’s part was dark, deep and intense.

Marin thought of the darkness she had seen in Sebastien over the past months, and then she looked at JD. Her manager was right. Sebastien could play that part.

The question was . . . could she make him see that?

And did he even want to come back?

JD stroked a finger down his mustache, holding her gaze. “He can do it.”

Marin looked up from the glass of wine she’d yet to touch. “Oh, I know that,” she said, her voice husky. A year ago, no. But what had happened a year ago, and everything that had happened since, all of that had changed Sebastien.

He could do it. He could bring Rand to life in a way that would make the man who’d written him weep with joy.

But . . .

“It’s a matter of whether or not he wants to.”

JD kept the electronic cigarette clamped between his teeth and she eyed the thin stream of smoke—no, vapor, she corrected—it emitted from the end. She’d always wondered how well those things worked, but then again, she’d always wondered why people would suck all that tar and rat poison into their lungs to begin with.

Finally, she shifted her gaze back to JD and his insightful stare. He’d been her manager for a long, long time. She had been the one to tell him to take a chance on Sebastien. So many had just assumed that pretty-boy exterior was all there was. JD had never regretted a moment.

His too-knowing gaze had always annoyed the hell out of her. “That boy doesn’t know what to think.”

She swallowed and looked away.

Satisfied now, he leaned back. “’Course, it gets worse when you’re around.”

“Well, geez.” Skewering him with a look, she grabbed her wine and knocked it back as if it were whiskey. Lounging back in her seat, she gave him an arrogant look. “And here you were pointing out that I was one of the few who could get through to him. Tell me something, genius . . . why are you so certain that having me talk to him will make any difference at all?”

“Because he wants the part.” JD lowered the slim, black pseudo-cigarette to the table and mirrored her pose. The intensity on his face told her he’d been holding this part back until it was time. Apparently, it was D-day, in JD’s eyes. “You see, when word got out that Michael Townsend had finally done the screenplay—and that he wanted you for Marlena, Sebastien started calling me. Asking me who would be playing Rand. I told him then that he wasn’t right for it.”