Ruined (A Barnes Brothers novel) by Shiloh Walker Read Free Book Online Page A

words had been almost two years ago. He would have gotten to work on a sequel to the action comedy he’d done with a former wrestler turned actor after . . . His mind shied away from finishing that thought and just went with
after
. JD had stepped in and handled the production company, although the other costar had come out to visit Sebastien several times, tried to talk him into changing his mind.
    He hadn’t had any more luck than anybody else. He’d also been pretty decent about Sebastien’s mouth, too. Especially after Sebastien had called him an asshole, a sell out, and a few other choice words—he’d just nodded and told Sebastien when he was ready . . .
“Give me a call, kid. I’ll be there
.”
    Sebastien hadn’t called.
    Fewer and fewer people called Sebastien and he stopped worrying about it much. Then JD goes and calls.
    “I’ve got a part for you.”
    The last time Sebastien had stood in front of a camera, it had been for this movie.
    You Wish You Knew
was trapped in postproduction and would probably stay there.
    The production company had been polite enough, waiting until six months had passed before they started asking him about coming in to wrap up things so they could get the movie going.
    He’d ignored the e-mails, calls, and letters.
    They started sending people out next.
    When he hadn’t talked to them, threats of suing for failure to fulfill his contract had come next.
    He’d returned the money along with an explicitly worded letter on where to shove it.
    At that point, he guessed they’d figured out to just let it go.
    It was a move to keep from losing face on their part. If they sued, it would end up in court and while he was being an asshole—and he knew he was—they’d be the ones looking like scum. He was, after all, grieving and licking his wounds. He could already picture the headlines.
    It all made him sick.
    And JD wanted him to come
back
to that?
    Marin’s laugh, the sound distant, imperfect, thanks to the lack of complete editing on the reels, came out of the TV and he leaned forward, studying her beautiful face, her glowing eyes as she stared back at his character.
    “You want to know what I look for in a man, Scott?”
    “Isn’t that what I asked?”
    Sebastien tried not to pretend his heart wasn’t speeding up as she leaned in. He could remember that scene. How she had laid her hand on his chest. How she had smiled up at him.
    “You wish you knew, baby. You only wish you knew.”
    “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.
    Her face . . . Man, that face. The little dimple in her cheek flirting with her smile. “Shit.”
    He shoved upright and hit the power on the giant screen before heading out of the room and up the stairs.
    That was when he realized how late it had gotten. The day had died and night had come, and a few moments later, he found himself staring out at the endless black of the ocean. It wasn’t too different from the hours that stretched out in front of him, only those hours would be a lot quieter. Throwing open the door, he moved out into the night.
    Wind slammed into him and he welcomed it, sucking in a half-desperate gulp of air.
    Why hadn’t he paid attention to the time?
    The days . . . yeah, the days were getting easier. He could get through the days, didn’t need to worry about really craving a drink—or even wanting one. Nights, though . . . nights were hard.
    And tonight wasn’t hard; tonight was a mean bitch, and the urge to grab a bottle—
    Spinning, he half stumbled, half ran inside and found himself in front of his liquor cabinet without any conscious decision to even
do
it.
    A drink. Just one. Hell, he’d gone a few days, had proven he could. A few days . . . He thought back.
    Five
days.
    The glass bottles glinted back at him, clear, blue, red, all of them catching the light like beautiful jewels.
    Five miserable days.
    Not since he’d stood in the darkened corner with Travis, sharing that bottle of champagne.
    “Your