The Actor's Contract
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Satan’s moodier cousin.”
Jackson doesn’t answer. He stalks further inside, dripping rain, scanning the room like he expects something — or someone — to lunge out from behind the fridge.
“I hope this is fucking important,” he sneers, voice low and rough.
“You must be Jackson,” River beams from the counter, swinging her legs like a delinquent Tinkerbell. “Lee’s Jackson?” The twin doesn’t move.
“I’m River, Lee’s sister,” she says, all business. Jackson just stares.
Hot Chapters