Page 61 of Sunset Savage

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Ichase after Baptist as he hurries into the hotel.

This is bad. This is really bad. I’m freaking out and trying to think my way through this awful situation, but no matter which direction I try to come at everything, I still return to one point: Cowan knows what he’s doing.

There’s a reason he gavemethe script, and not Baptist.

He didn’t want Baptist to see it right away. He wanted me to read it, form my opinion, and give it over to him later on. That was his whole game—Cowan wanted me to read the script, decide it’s bad, and tell Baptist that right as he’s realizing it’s his own father’s work.

He wanted me to recreate that moment Baptist had with his father, their last moment together.

The only thing I don’t understand iswhy.

What’s Cowan’s game? Why’s he doing all this and what’s he getting from it? I think back to the lawyers and how easily they rolled over to the contracts. They didn’t seem to care about the terms—but what if that was on purpose? If Cowan’s serious about making a movie, why wouldn’t he want to get the best deal he possibly could from us, instead of accepting whatever we threw his way? He’s been in this business long enough to know how things work.

You never take the first offer.

There has to be something more happening here, but I can’t get through to Baptist right now.

He’s raging. It’s like an entirely different person took him over and now I’m watching him spiral deeper and deeper into a cave and he can’t hear me anymore.

All that darkness, all that anger, the molten hate and raw emotions bubbling around inside of him are spilling out all over and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Cowan broke something in him, and I’m terrified Baptist is about to murder the old director.

Not that I’d blame him. I’m not even sure I want to stop him, except to make sure Baptist doesn’t end up in jail for the rest of his life.

After what he told me about his relationship with his father and the end of his father’s life, I can’t imagine the level of callousness it takes to pull off what Cowan just did. There must be something broken inside of the old director, something irredeemable and shattered, because Baptist is suffering now and I hate it. It physically kills me, knowing how much Baptist is hurting, and I know there’s nothing I can do to help him.

None of this makes any sense, and I don’t know what to do.

Except I follow him. That’s all I can think of. Baptist storms past the front desk, looks around the cafe area, before finally taking the stairs. I jog after him, trying to get him to calm down and think for a second, but he’s ignoring me now.

The red-hot rage is gone, replaced by something worse.

Determination.

He’s doing this and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

“Don’t throw away your life for Cowan,” I plead as we go up the stairs. I’m basically running, and sweat’s rolling down my back. Why couldn’t we have put Rodrick on a lower floor? “Seriously, Baptist. Whatever he did, we can hurt him in other ways. We can release this story and make sure nobody works with him ever again. We can bury him.”

Baptist doesn’t answer. He goes step by step, heading up and up, staring straight ahead.

“I don’t want you to end up in jail just because of Cowan. Please, Baptist. You’re not going to change anything by hurting the asshole. You’re just playing into his game.”

We reach Rodrick’s floor. Baptist stops before he pushes open the door and turns to me. I stand in front of him on the landing, breathing hard, flushed and out of breath, and it reminds me of that first night, that kiss on the stairway as we headed down to the supply closet. I stand back from him, my pulse raging, part of me wanting him to kiss me like he did back then and another part hoping he’ll see reason and stop all this.

“Why don’t you want me to end up in jail?” he asks softly.

His question hits me like a punch between my eyes. I shake my head slowly. “I don’t know what you mean. You’re my friend. You’re my business partner.”

“Liar.” He turns away. “You can’t even fucking say it.”

“Baptist.”

He shoves open the door and waits.

I open my mouth—

And I want to tell him the truth.


Tags: B.B. Hamel Crime