Page 2 of Beyond the Darkness (Basic Instincts #3)

Well Packaged Bad News

“I can’t believe she said that.”

“Yep.” Hudson nodded. “Apparently my moustache is more important than my well-being.”

Julian King chuckled. “I’m glad I only have to wear the fake one. It does look great on you, though. You should take the compliment.”

In the last week, Hudson and Julian had become good friends.

The closest he’d come to anyone in the production so far.

Julian was playing the role of an interfering tourist, while also understudying Hudson in the lead part.

He was around six or seven years younger than Hudson, and British, but they’d been surprised to discover they had so much in common, bonding over their mutual appreciation of movies, music and books, as well as their understanding of the play.

Rehearsals had gone on until well after six.

Afterwards, Hudson and Julian had crossed the river to The Blue Pearl, a cool bar they had discovered the week before that specialised in good food and live entertainment.

They were currently in between sets of a young singer and guitarist, who played a handful of his own songs.

Rav had taken away the photos that had come in the mail, so Hudson had to show Julian examples from the movie on his phone.

“You look so young,” Julian said, checking out the gallery of stills from Red Hills Massacre.

“Twenty-one, maybe twenty-two. I don’t remember exactly when we shot it. I had to go back for reshoots after the main production wrapped because my original death scene was too violent and intense.”

“I don’t think I’ve even seen it. I’m not big on horror films. My God, that mask is creepy as hell,” he said as he swiped to an image of the killer.

“You’re not missing much with this one. I wish I’d never done the fucking thing. I was a last-minute replacement for someone who dropped out, the lucky bastard. That film has brought me nothing but bad luck.”

“How come?”

He groaned. “Long, long story. Let’s not go into it now. I need to keep my head straight for the play.”

“You looked good, though,” Julian said, handing back the phone. “You still do, but you were a real hottie in those days. If I had pics of me looking so good in my undies, I’d be posting them everywhere. I’d probably use them as my profile picture now.”

Hudson grimaced. “I attracted all the wrong kinds of attention for it.” The fact that some loser was still fixated on the image of him from twenty years ago proved that nothing much had changed.

Sure, he had looked great at the time, but it was a simple fact of having to.

There’d been no such thing as a normal body type in the industry when he started.

If young actors had wanted to secure any type of work, they’d needed a certain look—ripped abs, bulging biceps and huge pecs.

Hudson had achieved that physique with extreme diets, obsession, exercise regimes and steroids. Totally unhealthy.

He still worked out and ate reasonably well now, but it was all about maintaining good health rather than trying to look hot.

The Blue Pearl seemed busy for a Monday evening.

He guessed that the live music was a big draw.

He checked out the posters that were dotted about the place and noted they had two or three different acts on each night, catering to all genres, even more so at the weekend.

When the play opened, he wouldn’t have a lot of time to socialise, but he could already see himself enjoying his Sunday afternoons off in this place.

“How are things with Manuella?” he asked.

Julian gave a sheepish grin. Manuella, a stunning Spanish model, was making her theatre debut in Darkest Blue.

She was bright and intelligent, but deeply insecure about her performance.

It had been obvious from the moment they had met in rehearsals last week that Manuella and Julian couldn’t keep their eyes off each other.

“She’s going to call me later, so we can go over a scene together. ”

“That’s progress.” Hudson found it kind of sweet that they had not torn each other’s clothes off at the first opportunity and appeared to be enjoying some kind of old-fashioned courtship. He hoped it worked out for them.

Julian made a move to go to the bathroom. “I’ll get us another drink on my way back, then I’ll get going. I want to keep a clear head for later.”

The bar had filled up around them and Hudson noticed that a lot of the tables outside were also occupied.

It was a beautiful evening, and the small outdoor terrace was perfectly placed to catch the late sun.

The young singer had returned to the stage and was arranging his equipment for his next set.

Hudson’s eyes were drawn to an exceptionally handsome man at the far end of the bar. He stood with an older man, who had his back to Hudson, but he had noticed Hudson too. The man glanced over his companion’s shoulder to look at him more than once.

Hello, good-looking.

Hudson had been so focused on preparing for the play in recent weeks that he had barely looked twice at any hot guy. He hadn’t even used any hook-up apps to check out the local guys. But there was no ignoring this knockout.

He was tall, a good few inches taller than himself, he would guess, with short, very dark hair and chiselled cheekbones. There was dark stubble on his lean jaw. His looks were almost brooding, until the man he was with said something which caused him to break into the most disarming smile.

Fuck me! He’s stunning.

He wore light suit trousers and an open-necked white shirt. Strong pecs pressed against the shirt front, and the outline of his nipples was visible.

Hudson felt a stirring inside his pants.

He didn’t want to stare in a creepy way—he knew how unwelcome that could be—but this guy was like a magnet for his eyes.

How old is he? Younger than Hudson, but not by much.

Mid to late thirties. There was definite maturity in those fine good looks, but a playful sense of youth in that smile and his twinkling eyes.

There was a hint of widow’s peak on his hairline that also suggested he was more man than boy.

Hudson took a swig of beer and forced himself to watch the stage, realising he was getting hot around the neck and throat. This guy was having a big impact on him.

He was about to get out his phone and log into Grindr to see if this hottie was also online when Julian returned with two fresh bottles of beer.

They sat quietly and watched the singer for a while.

He performed a set of acoustic rock and indie songs.

Hudson realised he’d spent enough time in the UK in recent years to recognise a lot of the songs.

“He’s great,” he said.

Julian agreed. “They’ve got another guy on towards the end of the week, Friday I think, who could be worth a look if you fancy it?”

“Sounds good. I really like this place.”

At the end of the next song, Julian excused himself. “Got to go. I want to get back to the hotel before Manuella calls.”

They hugged goodbye and Julian set off. Hudson decided he’d finish his drink and call it a night too.

He didn’t want a heavy head for the rehearsals tomorrow.

They were planning to run through the first act in its entirety and he wanted to be good.

When the singer completed his set, Hudson gave him a warm applause and knocked off his beer.

It was after eight. He should be back at the apartment well before nine.

He would relax for a while on the balcony then get an early night.

The handsome man was still at the end of the bar. Their eyes locked once more as Hudson stood. Hudson gave him a friendly smile of acknowledgement and his cock stirred as he walked out of the door. Maybe another time, when he had less on his mind.

The sun was hidden behind the high buildings when he stepped out, but it was still a fine and clement evening. He decided to take the long way back. He would go down to the river and follow the waterfront for a while, before heading up into the city.

“Excuse me,” a voice called from behind. “Mr Rhodes.”

He turned, stunned to find the hot guy from the bar following him. The warm sensation returned to Hudson’s neck, climbing over his face. His balls tightened.

As the man approached, the dazzling smile was at full voltage. He was even more attractive than he had appeared from a distance.

And he already knew who Hudson was.

“Hi,” he said, coming closer. Was that a flush of red in his cheeks and neck?

“Sorry to bother you. I didn’t like to disturb you earlier, I just wanted to say hello.

” He had a strong accent that Hudson had come to recognise as being unique to this city.

He was familiar with Geordie, and this was similar, but softer, sexier.

Hudson returned the smile, full on. This guy was not like the typical fans who approached him for selfies. On the whole, he mostly got recognised for a handful of cheesy romcoms he’d made in his late twenties and early thirties, and it was often women who flagged him down.

Through the open neck of the man’s shirt, he caught a teasing glimpse of dark chest hair. Hudson’s dick swelled to a semi state.

“Luke Kamal,” the man said, thrusting his hand forward.

Hudson took it welcomingly, noting the firm, dry grip. “Hi, Luke. I guess you know who I am.”

Luke’s dark eyes focused directly on him, and it was quite disarming. Hudson had worked with some world-famous actors and heartthrobs and very few of them possessed the raw magnetism of this stranger.

“You’re quite a big deal around here. Everyone is excited about the play launching in Blyham.”

Luke was an apparent flatterer, but he was so good-looking Hudson took his comment as a compliment rather than pure bullshit. “You’re coming to see the show then?”

That smile again, then Luke broke eye contact, seemingly shy. It was quite endearing. “You could say that. Actually, I’ll be there tomorrow. That’s why I wanted to say hello when I spotted you. It seemed rude not to.”

For a second, Hudson wondered if he was so hypnotised by this hot man that he’d misheard what he’d said. And damn, he smells great too. “Oh, we don’t actually open for a couple more weeks. The first preview is early next month, I think.”

“I’ll be there for that too, but I’ll be there tomorrow for the rehearsals.

” The blank expression on Hudson’s face seemed to confuse him too.

He continued. “Luke Kamal, from The Blyham Chronicle. I’m the arts and culture editor.

Well, editor is putting it grandly, but I cover all the major arts, music and theatre events for the paper.

We’re going to run a major feature on Darkest Blue over the next few weeks—that’s why I’m sitting in on rehearsals for a few days. ”

Again, Luke’s words were not computing with Hudson. “Wait, you’re a journalist…? You’re going to watch us put the show together?”

The smile wavered then disappeared. “It’s been arranged for weeks. I thought you knew.”

Hudson withdrew into himself, trying to make sense of what he’d heard. What the actual fuck? How the hell were they supposed to dig deep into themselves, to make themselves vulnerable in search of the characters and stories, with a reporter watching and taking note of every fuck-up, every misstep?

“That can’t be right,” he managed. “You’ve got it wrong.”

Luke fumbled in his trousers, pulled out a leather wallet and produced his press card. “It’s all legit. I’m due there at ten tomorrow and then in and out all the way to opening night.”

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” Hudson muttered.

“I’m sorry. I thought they would have told you. Hasn’t it been cleared with the cast?”

“No, it fucking well hasn’t.” Hudson’s lust for Luke was on the verge of turning into anger. Not just at him but at Rav and Andie and this whole damn shit-show of a production. “This is outrageous,” he said through gritted teeth.

Luke’s brow shot up in alarm. “Look, Hudson, Mr Rhodes. I don’t think I’ve explained myself very well.

This isn’t some undercover exposé. I’m not coming to write a hatchet piece on the play.

I want Darkest Blue to succeed. We all do.

That’s why I’ll be there. To give the show some great publicity and get the word out.

This is a big deal for Blyham. To have a major new production try out here with an international star, ahead of a sure-fire West End transfer.

It’s massive for our region. We only want the best.”

The calming words and soft tone had zero effect on Hudson.

“That all sounds peachy, and you flatter me, Mr Kamal.” Sarcasm dripped from every word.

“But you’re a journalist and I’ve heard this kind of smooth bullshit a million times before.

And guess what, it never turned out well.

I’m not about to get a poisoned pen stuck in my ribs again. ”

“I can assure you—”

“Save it,” Hudson snapped. “I’m not interested. I don’t know what that asshole Rav has promised you, but if I have anything to do with it, it won’t be happening. You can write all you want after opening night, but you won’t be sitting in on any of my rehearsals.”

Luke straightened, holding out his chest, his jaw set firm. “It’s already been agreed. I’ll be there tomorrow whether you like it or not. For the sake of everyone—for the sake of the show—it would be much easier if we could all see eye to eye on this.”

Hudson turned and hurried away without another word, his anger intensifying with each incensed step. First the fucking hate mail, now this good-looking bastard journo.

He had a growing feeling that this play was cursed from the start.