Rope a dope, p.1
Rope a Dope, page 1
ROPE A DOPE
SOARING BIRD
BOOK 4
HEIDI HUTCHINSON
CONTENTS
Note From the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
21. *
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue*
Playlist
About the Author
Also by Heidi Hutchinson
Rope a Dope © 2023 Heidi Hutchinson
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the copying, scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without permission from the author is unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for you support of the author’s rights.
This book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historic events or existing locations, the names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2023 Heidi Hutchinson
Book Cover design by Heidi Hutchinson using elements purchased from Adobe Stock
Editing by Jo Evans
Proofreading by Pin-up Proofs
Created with Vellum
To Kara and Shane
Once upon a time a good woman fell in love with a good man
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR
Dear Reader,
Up until now I have been exclusively a closed door writer.
The past few books I’ve written there were moments during the creative process where I was conflicted about closing the door. It felt like I was doing the characters and the story I had built a disservice.
But I was afraid of transitioning to open door. I thought it would be brand suicide.
Still, I couldn’t shake the idea that I was harming the depth of my storytelling. That I was pulling my punches so to speak.
And then I told myself I didn’t have a right to show up in that space and contribute to romance in that way. The subject matter was too important to get wrong.
See, I learned about sex through romance novels. Without certain books and certain brave authors, I wouldn’t know what I know. I’ve spoken to many people over the years that have expressed the same sentiment. Without romance novels with open door scenes, a lot of us would be very different people.
That’s when I realized I had a responsibility to be a voice in that space. To contribute to the genre with the talents I’ve been given. To hopefully be a meaningful and healthy influence. To pass it on.
I believe this is where my writing was always leading me and I’m excited for this next step.
I recognize that not everyone will support this transition. I didn’t come to this decision lightly. It has been on my mind and heart for quite some time. I wanted to be sure that I was making this change for the right reasons.
I hope you stick around, but I understand if you can’t.
I know this is a big change and I want to make it easy for you to skip the spicy bits if they make you uncomfortable. The chapters with open door scenes with have an asterisk after the chapter number. Just a small symbol to notify readers of what to expect so you’re not blindsided, but nothing too harsh to pull you out of the story.
Not every book moving forward will have open door. It will really depend on the story and the characters. I will be upfront in the blurb if there will be open door scenes so you can make an informed decision.
Thank you for reading my stories. Thank you for sticking with me. Thank you for giving me the chance to be a part of something greater than myself.
Love Always,
Heidi
ONE
ANIKA
The only thing worse than cracking your ribs after falling down a flight of stairs, was falling down a flight of stairs with ribs which were already cracked.
Sure, Anika could have said no. She could have told someone her ribs were cracked. She could have done a lot of things.
But it was the last stunt of the day. Not only that, but it was also the final sequence of a series finale that had given her job stability for seven years.
To say she was a little attached to the character would be an understatement. No way was she going to let Chad do the last stunt. In her mind, she was just as much the main character as the actress she doubled for.
They’d trained together, fought together, defeated evil together. She didn’t care if it killed her—she was going down the stairs again.
Which, considering her line of work, probably wasn’t the healthiest mentality.
But she was relying on the adrenaline to carry her through. It hadn’t failed her yet.
Besides, it was stairs. Taking a car hit the wrong way was more likely to sideline her. And since they’d done that yesterday without issue, she could handle one more tumble down the stairs.
“Cut!” Trent called. “Got it.”
Thank God, Anika thought. She rolled off the pad and slowly stood.
Well, if her ribs hadn’t been cracked before, they definitely were now.
Fuck.
Cracked ribs at thirty-years-old were different than cracked ribs at twenty.
She made her way over to Trent—the stunt coordinator and one of her oldest friends in the business—keeping her expression neutral.
The last thing she wanted was anyone to find out she’d injured herself. Trent wasn’t the worry, but others. The whisperers and gossips who could (would) make it something it wasn’t.
Maybe she was being paranoid. Or maybe, after ten years in the business, she’d learned from her own injuries and from the injuries of others, some shit you keep to yourself.
The show had had more than its fair share of scandal over the past season. She didn’t want to add “Stunt Person Forced to Do Stunt While Injured,” to the other inaccurate headlines.
Plus, stunt work was going through a series of tragedies on sets worldwide that the media was reporting with varying shades of erroneousness.
A handful of incidents had occurred where a stunt person was asked (bullied) into doing a stunt they knew was too dangerous. The worst had happened. The subsequent investigations and lawsuits fueled public speculation. The investigations confirmed that the incidents never should have happened. And the lawsuits were minuscule in comparison to what those families had suffered.
But because of the increased interest from the public, the media began to report every single injury and incident as if professional stunt work as a whole was facing a calamitous outcome.
And since the people reporting knew exactly zero about stunt work or what was considered “normal,” they put the blame in all the wrong places.
Anika suspected that a couple low level people in the studios were the “leaks” that were supplying the media reports with more false or exaggerated reports. Motivated by the attention, it made them feel more important. Which was an epidemic, in and of itself, in the industry.
“You okay?” Trent asked.
“Yep.” She planted her hands on her hips, ignoring the stinging in her chest. “Did we get it?”
He eyed her. He had to know she was injured. He’d been in the business twice as long as her and had seen it all.
He took a deep breath and ran a hand over his closely shaved head. “You know,” he started and she already knew what he was going to say. He’d said it before. A few times. Something along the lines of “you can trust me to have your back, stop hiding dumb shit from me.”
Because he was one of the good ones. He took care of his stunt people and he would never be one of those assholes who got someone killed.
“Your competitiveness is going to kill you someday.”
Hm. Well he had never said it quite like that before.
She made a face.
He rolled his eyes.
“Did we get the shot?’ she asked, arching an eyebrow.
He snorted and turned back to the monitor. “Of course we got the shot.”
She tried not to feel smug as she watched the replay.
Gorgeous.
Who could fall down the stairs as convincingly as her? No one, that’s who.
Turning toward wardrobe, Trent joined her. They fell in step and nodded at crew members as they passed.
It had been a surreal day on set. It was the final day for filming the fight sequences, and unless they called her back for reshoots, she was done.
She’d probably come back for the wrap party in a couple weeks. It would be a huge adjustment not to have a steady job for a while. Seven years on the same set with many of the same people was not nothing.
Especially since when she’d gotten the job, she had no idea how long it would last.
Who knew AdoleScents would have turned into such a huge show? It was a show about a high school girl who ran her own private detective agency, was also a werewolf, needed her wolf side to gather the clues, but could ne
ver remember what happened when she was a wolf. It was slapstick and drama and angst wrapped into one.
Anika had loved doubling for Julie Shakespeare, the twenty-something actor who portrayed Ashina Blake, werewolf private eye.
They’d gotten close over the years. Hopefully they’d stay in contact.
“What’s next on your schedule?” Trent asked, sounding casual.
She side-eyed him but he kept his gaze forward.
“I have a couple commercials coming up. Driving and maybe a high fall. I’m waiting to get a call back on a thing in Atlanta that should take a few weeks. An indie project with fight sequences.”
She hadn’t been able to line up very many jobs during the final filming of AdoleScents. She’d be putting out feelers in the next few days though. She didn’t have a lot of money saved, but it was enough that she didn’t need to panic.
Yet.
Besides, her work on AdoleScents did a lot of the heavy lifting for her. She’d established a consistent reputation with others in her line of work. It would be easier for her to get a job now than it had been when she’d first been starting out.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Trent hummed low in his throat and stopped walking. She crossed her arms and faced him. He narrowed his dark eyes at her and took a breath.
She fought the urge to chew the inside of her cheek.
It wasn’t exactly common knowledge that Trent had gotten hired as the stunt coordinator for a massive superhero film that hadn’t been announced yet.
It was just a rumor.
And along with that rumor was the one about who he had already tapped to join him.
Because that was how you got hired for stunt work in the industry. No agents, no managers, very few auditions. Someone always knew someone who knew someone who could do a thing. And calls were made and you showed up to do anything from getting thrown through a window to jumping out of a plane.
If you did good work, you got to come back.
Trent glanced around at the people surrounding him. Finally, he settled his gaze on her.
“Keep your phone on you. And maybe keep your winter available.”
She lifted her eyebrows but didn’t reply.
He shook his head and huffed a laugh. “And don’t get hurt before then.” He patted her shoulder before walking away.
Anika rolled her lips inward and did her best to stifle her excitement.
Yesssss.
It was all finally happening.
Stunt work was her favorite thing in the world (besides pizza).
And if the rumors were true, if Trent was going to be the go-to guy on such a huge production, and if he brought her in…
That was so many ifs.
She changed back into her clothes, making small talk with the people around her, saying her goodbyes.
Julie came by and thanked her. They hugged and cried and promised to keep in touch. Wrapping up a project that had been running for this long felt like graduating high school. She’d been with these people every day for a huge portion of her life, and now they were off to do new things.
But with every hug, the pain in her chest increased as the adrenaline wore off and she knew she needed to get out of there before someone noticed.
It had been a while since she’d cracked a rib. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long to heal. She had a driving commercial on Monday. That would give her the weekend to ice and rest.
The moment the door closed on the Dodge Ram she let out her first heavy sigh. She was going to be sore tomorrow.
All weekend more like.
Thankfully she didn’t live too far away from where they’d been filming that week. She’d be home in no time.
She needed a long soak in an ice bath and a beer.
Just one beer.
She needed to heal after all.
But one beer was the reward she was willing to give herself for wrapping another job and maybe being on Trent’s shortlist.
Shit. She was out of beer.
And ice.
The thought of stopping at the store and lugging bags of ice was enough to turn her stomach. Or maybe that was the pain catching up to her.
She asked her truck to call Spencer, her trainer and friend.
“Hey.”
“Do you have a ton of ice and a tub that would fit my big ass?” Anika asked.
Spencer hummed and started moving around. “Let me check.”
Some people might balk at how Anika referred to her body. But Spencer understood her pragmatism.
Objectively speaking, Anika’s body was one to two sizes larger than the actresses she had to double for. It had to be. She needed the muscle to do the stunts that would cripple or kill someone less experienced. And muscle took up space.
Men generally wore more clothes so they could hide padding in various places. Women’s wardrobes tended to have less coverage. Anika compensated for that with extra muscle and kept her body fat percentage at a comfortable, sustainable level.
By Hollywood standards, she was a little thick.
She was fine with that.
In fact, she was proud of her mass. She worked hard to keep it.
Plus she was strong.
And her strength was way more important to her than most anything.
“I have plenty of ice, but I don’t have a—wait.” Spencer took the phone away from her ear and spoke to someone else. Then she came back. “Where are you?”
“About ten minutes from the gym.”
“I will have it ready for you when you get here.”
“Beer too?” Anika asked hopefully.
Spencer chuckled. “Fine. Beer too.”
“You are awesome,” Anika said, meaning it.
She hung up and turned Double Blind Study up as loud as she could stand it, and headed for the small gym in Huntington Beach that she’d made her part time home.
She used to work out in between specialized trainers at a luxury gym in LA. That’s where she meant Spencer Clementine. Spencer’s training style spoke to Anika’s inner masochist, and she decided that Spencer would be her trainer forever. Whether Spencer liked it or not.
And when Spencer quit the luxury gym because the manager was a douchebag, Anika had gone with her.
Recently, they’d become closer friends.
And Anika was grateful.
She liked having close friends nearby she could talk to and shoot the shit with on a consistent basis. Her work friends were always on set somewhere.
But Spencer had begun to include her in her friend group of professional surfers and beach bums. Anika liked to think she was fitting in all right.
She got along with all the women great. And most of the guys.
So far there had only been that one weird interaction with Steve.
The night they’d first met, he had fainted.
Straight up passed the fuck out in the middle of a honky-tonk karaoke. He’d come to, blamed it on low blood sugar, and never spoke to her again.
No really.
He never spoke to her again.
And from what she could tell, he talked all the fucking time. He never shut up. Until she entered the room and then he was silent. And kind of stiff.
It had become a major and unexpected blow to her ego.
Apparently he really had passed out from low blood sugar.
But everyone else seemed to like her just fine. Even if Steve often left the room when she was around.
She made it to Heavenly Health and parked in the near-empty lot. The sun was getting low in the sky and she wondered what time they were supposed to close.
Or if Spencer had plans.
Because as much as she wanted to soak in the ice, she really wanted to tell someone what Trent had said. She couldn’t tell any of her friends in the industry because that would open a whole sack of cats.
