Page 47 of Rest In Pieces

“There’s the director,” Hannibal points out, and I roll my eyes.

“What gave it away? The chair that says ‘director’?”

“Smart ass,” he grumbles as the sound of a horse neighing catches my attention.

A woman stands beside the horse, her back to us, before she mounts it with ease as we move in closer.

When the director yells for quiet on set, we all stand still and watch, waiting to see what happens.

Blade and Probe join us a few minutes later, coffee in their hands, and quietly talk with the others as they take everything in, but I can’t take my eyes off the woman on the horse.

“And action!” the director yells. What happens in the next few minutes is insane. The woman rides the horse at full speed, stands up on its back, and jumps to catch a tree branch, swinging there for a moment before the director yells, “Cut!”

“Holy shit. I thought she was gonna fall on her ass when she jumped,” Circus says in awe as he steps up beside me.

The director turns at the sound of Circus’s voice, his eyes going comically wide when he sees a wall of bikers behind him.

“Raven Souls MC, right? I wasn’t sure you’d come.” He stands up and walks over to us, shaking my hand first and then offering his hand to Blade.

“Well, you did invite us, and I’ll admit my men and I were curious. It’s not every day you get a chance to see how a movie’s made,” Blade tells him as I watch the dark-haired woman get to her feet and brush herself off.

A guy wearing a headset walks over to her, and they talk for a minute before looking our way. She’s too far away to make out what she looks like, but there’s something familiar about her.

“Who’s the actress?” I ask.

“Monica Miller. You might know her from a string of romantic comedies she did before this.”

I repeat the name, but it’s not ringing any bells. At least, not to me.

Circus whistles. “She’s hot as fuck.”

The director flushes. “Yes, well, the audience seems to love her. Excuse me for a minute.”

He heads over to the woman I assume is Monica Miller and talks to her, his arms gesturing wildly as he speaks. Whatever he says makes her laugh before she nods. Then, like it’s choreographed, everyone returns to their original places, and they shoot the scene again.

Watching it a second time doesn’t make it any less intense. It also makes me wonder if she rides a man as well as she rides a horse.

My brain flashes to an image of Amity, making me curse. I’m not interested in fucking another woman when I already have one in mind. I know a lot of guys don’t feel that way, including a few brothers. They have a home life and a club life and keep the two separate. I don’t agree with it, but it’s been that way since long before I started wearing a cut.

Sure, the club could mandate it, but is that even possible? If a man is going to cheat, he’s going to cheat. It just means he wouldn’t be doing it at the clubhouse—he’d be doing it somewhere else. Fucking women with club ink, even the bunnies, is okay because they know better than to talk about Raven’s business. But civilians don’t understand our way of life. If a brother shares more than his cock with a woman, it could be a death sentence for them both if Raven’s secrets get out.

“And cut! That was perfect.”

Monica drops to her feet and gives the director a thumbs up before heading our way. She pauses for a moment, taking us in. She might be too far away for us to see well, but our cuts stand out clearly.

A woman walks past us, heading straight for the director, ignoring us completely. Her dark hair’s pulled over her shoulder in a ponytail, and I check her out, knowing my brothers aredoing the same. She’s wearing tight blue Wranglers, a plaid shirt, and brown cowboy boots. Though the skin-tight outfit covers everything, it leaves nothing to the imagination.

“Is she done yet? I’ve been waiting forever.”

The director turns his head at the sound of the woman’s voice, a muscle in his jaw twitching is the only show of his annoyance.

The woman’s pretty, I’ll give her that, but as soon as she opened her mouth, I knew it was only skin deep. An hour in her presence would probably make me want to claw my ears off or shoot her.

“We’ve only done two takes, Monica. We’re extremely lucky that the stunt team is as talented as they are because I’d planned to do more,” he reprimands her, but it goes right over her head.

“Wait, if that’s Monica Miller, who’s the woman on the horse?” I ask Crane.

Monica turns when she hears me, her eyes devouring us all like we’re candy before noticing our cuts and grimacing.