Ruined (Barnes Brothers #4)(45)

Sebastien fought the urge to bare his teeth as he turned to look at Antonio Ortega. They had acted in a few projects together early on, but over the past couple of years, their careers had gone different ways. Tony had focused heavily on crime dramas, the bloodier, the better, while Sebastien rarely found a part—or was rarely offered a part in one that appealed to him.

Torn was the first movie they’d worked on together in almost five years.

“Whatever makes them happy,” Sebastien said, although even he could hear the lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

“Think you can say that with a little less joy, buddy?” Tony nudged him with his elbow and then nodded to some of the people gathering by the gates. “We’re going out, grabbing a pizza, some beer. Not going to be out super late or anything, but you wanna come?”

The desire to say yes was strong—go out, have a drink. Hell, he would be with friends. He could have a drink, even ask Tony to make sure he stopped at one. But . . . “No.” He shook his head. “Thanks for asking.”

“Oh, come on, man. You never do anything—it’s like you’re still shut up in your house out on the beach.” Tony grabbed his arms and shook him playfully. “Come back to the land of the living.”

Sebastien shoved him good-naturedly. “Not up to it. Spent the last year sleeping half the time. Going to take a while to get out of the habit of not being a total bum.”

“Whatever.” Tony held up his hand and they bumped fists. “Soon, though. Not going to let you hide away the entire time we’re working, Seb.”

“Okay, yeah.” Mentally, he told himself he’d join them next time. Or maybe the next. Soon. Really soon. When he knew he could be around others drinking and not have to fight it so hard himself. Then he headed off, his eyes automatically scanning for Marin.

She wasn’t with Dash.

Like him, she was walking slowly to the gate.

Because he was watching her so closely, he saw it—the way she stumbled. Her hand fluttered out, as if to grasp some invisible support.

There wasn’t one, though.

He took off without really thinking about it.

He wouldn’t reach her in time. He knew he wouldn’t. But he tried anyway, legs and arms pumping furiously. He didn’t make it. Superman couldn’t have made that distance in time.

He skidded to his knees, hitting the ground next to her just as everybody else realized what had happened.

She had fainted.

“Marin!”

She didn’t stir. Lashes lay low against her cheeks and her skin was so pale, the dark circles under her eyes looked like bruises. Fear choked him and he pulled her up into his arms without thinking twice. Tapping her cheek, he spoke her name. This time, there was a low groan in her throat.

Vaguely, he was aware of the crowd gathering around them and he looked up and caught Tony’s eyes as the other man knelt beside him. “Where’s the medic?” Silently, he wondered where the f*ck Dash was, but he kept that question locked in his head.

Film crews worked with a set medic on-site, but they’d finished up for the day and the medic hired for this job had hit the road the moment he was given the word.

“Gone,” somebody said. “He just caught a ride out of here a few minutes ago.”

Sebastien swore, and then jabbed a finger at Tony. The baby. Was it the baby? Where the hell was Dash? “Call an ambulance.”

“That won’t be necessary, Antonio.” The calm voice stopped Tony in his tracks and Sebastien looked up, his lips peeling back from his teeth.

Sojo stood there and everybody fell back.

Sebastien stared her down. “She passed out. She’s—” He managed to keep that last bit behind his teeth, but just barely. Hardly anybody knew about the pregnancy and even fewer knew that Marin’s pregnancy was why production had been stepped up. “She passed out.”

The words had no sooner left his lips then he felt Marin stirring in his arms.

He looked down just as her lashes lifted and the impact of that connection hit him straight in the heart. The ugly words they’d thrown at each other—no, the ugly words he had thrown at her—they lingered between them like an unseen wall.

He wanted to reach down, stroke his hand down her cheek. Pull her up against him.

If he’d kept his mouth shut, kept his cool . . . maybe . . .

But he’d lost his temper, pushed her. Been an *.

As her eyes focused on his, he brushed his thumb across her cheek. “You okay there?” He hadn’t needed to touch her, he supposed. Except he had. It was necessary in a way. Necessary to him. Only him.

Marin blinked a couple of times, clearly confused. Then her eyes widened as awareness washed over her. “Here,” he said, slipping an arm under her. “Let me help you sit up.”

“I’m . . .” She scowled, tensing up as she realized they had an audience. “I’m fine, Sebastien. Let me go.”

Let you go . . . He wanted to laugh. Did she think he hadn’t been trying?

But he kept his face expressionless. “You passed out. You need to go to the hospital.” He tried to impress on her the importance of it. “I can take you or I can find Dash. The general doesn’t want an ambulance called.”

Sojo didn’t say a word.

“No.” Marin pushed at his chest again, her mouth folding into mutinous lines.