Keatyn Unscripted (The Keatyn Chronicles Book 8)

by Jillian Dodd

  I sigh with relief. Not only did I lose Vincent, Vincent lost Mom. He had to have been following her.

  I get a call from Garrett.

  "Are you okay?" he shouts.

  "Yes. I think so."

  "Your mother just called me in a panic. Call her. Then call me back."

  I call her. "Mom!"

  "The photographers told me that my decoy and the guy running after her out of the store yelling Abby didn't work. Tell me that wasn’t you. And please tell me the guy running after you wasn’t Vincent!"

  "It was him, but it's okay. We lost him. I'm fine."

  "We?"

  I smile at my driver. "What's your name?"

  "Allan," he says.

  I say into the phone, "Allan just drove better than Tommy Stevens did in that car chase in Trinity."

  Allan beams at me.

  Mom laughs uncomfortably, so I say, "I gotta go. Be safe.”

  I hang up and say to the driver, “Do you think you could take me down to that coffee shop?”

  I'm a little nervous about going back in the store, just in case Vincent would think to go back there.

  "Sure,” he says.

  I open my wallet. I have no cash.

  Shit. I never have cash. "I want to pay you something, but I don't have any cash."

  He shakes his head. "You don't owe me anything. That was the most fun I've had in a long time. Unless, of course, you can get me a part in Tommy Stevens' next movie. That's the only thing that could top this." He pauses. "Speaking of that, you do kinda resemble Abby Johnston. Did that guy mistake you for her?"

  “Sorta. He has a thing for her. Thought I looked like her. Used to call me Abby. He's a little off his rocker. One of those rich guys that thinks he can have anything he lays his eyes on."

  "But he couldn't get you?"

  "Not today, thanks to you."

  He studies my face again. "Yeah, I don't see it. Like when you had your sunglasses on, you kinda resembled her, but as soon as you took them off, it's easy to see your eyes are very different."

  "Do you have a card, Allan?"

  "Sure." He pulls a card out and hands it to me.

  I read it. "Allan Broadmore, actor. Thanks."

  His phone buzzes with a text. "Obviously, not a full-time actor. That's my boss. I’ve gotta get back there.”

  "Thanks, Allan."

  "I didn't catch your name."

  "It's Maggie."

  "Fun times, Maggie. Maybe I'll come see your show sometime."

  "That'd be cool. I'll be the one, um . . . kicking."

  I get out of the car and stand outside the coffee shop.

  There’s a text from Annie and the girls asking where I am. I text back and ask them to meet me here.

  I take a photo of Allan’s card and send it to Tommy with a text.

  Me: Please call this guy and give him a job in your current endeavor. He has excellent driving skills. When you call him, tell him Maggie the Rockette suggested him.

  Tom: That’s kind of a weird request, even for you.

  Me: He may have just saved my life.

  Tom: Hang on, your mom's calling me.

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to slow down the adrenaline coursing through my body.

  Then I say a prayer. Thank you for letting me get away. Please keep my mom safe. My family safe.

  My phone buzzes.

  I open my eyes and look down at it. It’s Tommy.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “We're bringing you home. This isn't working.”

  “No, you aren't. I'm sorry, but you're not.”

  “We can make you.”

  “How? I'm emancipated, and I have my own money.”

  “Don't get smart with me.”

  “Well, you try getting chased through the streets of New York City by a psycho and see what kind of mood you’re in.”

  Tommy laughs just a little. “You know, I did that in Trinity.”

  “Yeah, I know. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I love you and Mom, but I love my sisters more. Vincent called me Abby today. He’s different. Worse, I think. Mom’s not safe either. You worry about them, and I’ll take care of me.”

  I start to get tears in my eyes as I see my friends walking down the street toward me.

  Tommy says, “We’ve got to do something.”

  “I agree, but you’ll have to excuse me now, my friends are almost here and I have to go pretend to be a normal teenager.”

  Garrett is calling me back, but I don’t answer.

  I can’t deal with him right now. I can’t deal with any of them right now.

  I have to act normal.

  I’m normal.

  A normal Eastbrooke girl shopping in New York City with her friends.

  Just breathe, Keatyn. It will be okay.

  “Hey,” Peyton says. “You missed out on all the excitement.”

  I laugh.

  I actually, really laugh.

  They have no idea the excitement I just had.

  “I need some coffee,” I say.

  What a stupid excuse.

  “I need coffee too,” Maggie says. “So what’s up next?”

  “We need cute pajamas for PJ day. I know a great lingerie store. Should we go there next?”

  “That sounds fun!” Katie says. “I’m thinking I need some new lingerie too.”

  “What for?” Maggie asks, nudging Katie with her elbow. “You planning to attack Dallas?”

  Katie smirks. “Nope. I’m just going to look so hot that he won’t be able to resist me.”

  After we all get coffees, I call our driver and we head to the lingerie store.

  We all pick out fun pajamas to wear for PJ day.

  “Let’s have a lingerie party tonight,” I suggest. “We’ll drink wine and wear something fabulously sophisticated.”

  We have a great time giggling and trying on silky chemises, robes, camisoles, gowns, all sorts of stuff. Annie buys a gorgeous long silky gown.

  She says, “Who cares if I didn’t make Court. I’d rather buy a gown like this. I feel like a movie star.”

  We shop until we can’t shop anymore then head to my loft.

  When I walk in my front door, I instantly feel safe.

  At home.

  While the girls check out the place and claim their bedrooms, I walk into my closet, sit on my chair, and finish my prayer.

  Please let this be over soon.

  Vincent is back in his hotel room. Even though he’s disgusted with the way Abby has been acting, seeing her in person today reminds him of how beautiful she is. He’s fondling himself thinking about his run-in with her. As he’s about to climax, he pictures her on the escalator and realizes for the first time that it wasn’t Abby.

  That’s why there were no guards. It was Lacy. Or Keatyn.

  Does it even matter anymore?

  He remembers touching her hand. How warm it felt. The exhilaration of seeing her again.

  Then he remembers losing her. It was Keatyn. She had been there to see her mom. She’s in New York.

  And he needs to let the whore know he’s getting closer.

  He doesn’t allow himself to finish, but rather stops what he’s doing to himself, and takes a photo out of his briefcase.

  He stares at the photo of Lacy. It’s a still from the video he shot of her coming out of the water in a bikini and blowing him a kiss.

  He smiles at her perfection. The way her eyes speak volumes to him.

  “I’m sorry to do this to you, Lacy,” he says to the photo. “But it’s going to have to be part of our script.”

  He allows the rage that’s been simmering inside since she pulled away to overcome him, and he repeatedly stabs the photo of her.

  Then he tucks what’s left of Lacy’s face into an envelope.

  He takes a hat out of his suitcase and tucks it under his arm. He walks down the hall and to the stairwell, where he puts on the hat and walks up a flight of stairs.

  He slips
the envelope under the whore’s hotel room door.

  Then he goes down the elevator, catches a cab, and goes back to the hotel where he had checked in under his own name. In the safety of this room, he allows himself to finally have his release.

  Katie and I are getting ready for bed when Garrett calls me.

  “I just wanted to let you know that your mom cut her trip short and is safely back in Vancouver.”

  “Why did she cut her trip short?”

  Garrett sighs. “You told me that you want to know everything, right? Even if it’s rough to handle?”

  “Yes.”

  “When she woke up this morning, there was an envelope pushed under her hotel room door.”

  “And what was in it?”

  “A photo of you. From that day on the beach when you let him take your picture. You were blowing a kiss.”

  I shudder remembering the kiss he shot me yesterday and know that the photo was not really meant for Mom.

  Is was meant for me.

  I try to sound unaffected. “He already sent us that picture.”

  “Yes, honey, but this one was different.”

  “How so?”

  “It was stabbed numerous times with a very sharp object. All that was left intact was your face.”

  My stomach lurches and all I manage to say is, “Oh.”

  Katie says to me, “Hey, I’m gonna hop in the shower.”

  I nod to her, wait for the shower to turn on, and then say to Garrett, “Poor Mom.”

  “Poor Mom? Poor you, if he finds you. You need to tell me everything that happened on Saturday.”

  I give him the run down.

  “So it was a completely chance encounter?”

  “Yes. You told me Mom was planning a trip, but you didn't tell me where she was going. I had no idea.”

  “I didn’t tell you because I was afraid you'd try to see her.”

  “I’m sorry about the Brooklyn thing, Garrett. I wouldn’t have gone to see her. You know what was really weird though? He didn't call me Keatyn. He called me Abby. He’s never called me Abby before.”

  “He’s getting worse. More out of touch with reality.”

  “Did he leave when Mom did? Are you following him?”

  “We were. We tracked down his hotel. He might be out of touch with reality, but he’s still not making any mistakes. He didn’t stay at the same hotel as your mom and he had what appeared to be a business dinner tonight. Since neither you or your mom are in the city, I saw no need to continue surveillance. He's scheduled on a flight to LA tomorrow night at seven. We’ll make sure he’s on it.”

  “Even though I know I’m safe here, I’ll feel better when he's back in California.”

  “You and me both.”

  Keatyn is back in school when she gets called to the office. She knows Vincent is still in town. Granted, she’s in Connecticut and not New York, but she will feel much safer when he’s back across the country. Even though this scene turned out not to be Vincent, it was scary for her. And it helped Riley and her bond further, firmly cementing their long friendship.

  I’m in history class with Riley when I get called to the office. I smile, grab my bag, and figure that Peyton got me out of class again.

  When I get to the office though, I don’t see her.

  Instead the Dean’s secretary says, “Miss Monroe, the dean will see you now.”

  The dean will see me now? Why does the dean want to see me?

  What did I do!?

  I walk into his office.

  Be calm, Keatyn. Don’t look guilty.

  The dean looks up from his desk. “Sit down, Miss Monroe. There’s something we need to discuss.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say as I fidget with the zipper on my handbag.

  “This is a delicate situation,” he tells me. He’s got a little bead of sweat on the upper corner of his forehead, where his hairline just barely recedes.

  Is he nervous?

  “We pride ourselves on security here at Eastbrooke, but it appears that someone was in our office last night. We believe that your file was accessed.”

  My eyes get huge, my thoughts immediately racing to the rehabs that were broken into. To Vincent being in New York City.

  Vincent tracked me from New York.

  He had me followed, and I didn’t know it.

  He knows I’m here.

  But if he knows I’m here, if he broke in last night, why didn’t he come and get me last night while I was sleeping?

  Didn’t Garrett say Vincent was too smart to do it himself? That he probably hired someone.

  Does that mean he’s on his way?

  I clear my throat. It’s obvious that the dean expects me to respond. “Were there other files accessed?”

  Please say yes.

  “It appears to have been just yours.”

  I try not to panic.

  I need to know what Vincent knows. “What exactly is in my file?”

  “The basics. Your school transcripts. Current class schedule. Parking pass. Dorm assignment. And, well, the financial arrangements regarding your tuition.”

  That’s why he broke in. He knows I’m here, but he needs to know what dorm I’m in. Tonight, he’s coming to get me. Or maybe he’s waiting for me inside my car. Hiding in the backseat, waiting for me to drive off, then he’ll overtake me. Or maybe he wanted me to know he found me. Maybe he’ll make me wait. Make me crazy with wonder as to when he’s coming. Maybe he’s playing with me. Garrett said that stalking is all about control.

  What am I going to do? Where am I going to go? I just started building a new life here.

  “Thank you for letting me know, sir. Is there anything else?”

  “No, we just needed to make you aware of the situation. Particularly since your financial data may have been compromised.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  He has no idea. He’s worried about money. About getting sued.

  I’m worried about someone grabbing me and never being seen again. I grab the locket around my neck and pray that whatever they installed in it actually works.

  I think I’m going to need it.

  “You should probably take a few minutes to check your account and then head back to class,” the dean says as he shoos me out of the relative safety of his office.

  My mind is reeling.

  I imagine Vincent waiting for me outside.

  I remember Garrett telling me to go where people are.

  I can’t go to my dorm room. He could be there. I can’t go to class. He knows my schedule. I have to be unpredictable. I have to do something he couldn’t have planned on.

  I stand outside the school office, trying to think.

  “Earth to Keatyn.”

  “What?” Riley is standing in front of me. Big, strong Riley. The boy who said I’d need protecting.

  “Did you get in trouble?”

  “What? Oh, uh, no.”

  He wraps his arm around me. “Then what's wrong? You're shaking. Is your family okay?”

  My eyes get tears in them. I don't know what to do.

  Riley sees that I'm about to start crying.

  “Come on, let's go talk.” He tries to drag me down the hall.

  “No! Wait!” I yell.

  “Why? Tell me what's got you so upset.”

  “Just give me a minute!”

  Think, Keatyn. Don't stay in this building. Don't go to dorm. Your car is out. Lots of people.

  But then I think about the crazy people that come into classrooms with guns. No classrooms. I need to hide.

  I remember Garrett telling me that Hawthorne House was next to my dorm. That it housed most of the school’s athletes. That I should go there if I was ever in trouble.

  “Can we go to your room?”

  Riley grins and raises an eyebrow at me sexily. “Baby, I thought you'd never ask.”

  I don’t laugh at his joke. “I, uh, don’t want anyone to know. Can we sneak down there? Go the back way or something?”


  “It’s gonna be a secret affair, huh? You want me to tie you up?”

  My face goes a shade whiter. I think about what was in the van. Imagine being tied up in the back of it.

  Riley looks at me closely. “Okay, you're scaring me.”

  “I’m sorry. I just . . .” I can't even come up with a lie. I'm stuck in one spot. I thought if he ever came and got me, found me, I'd be all badass and fight him, but I'm not a badass. I'm a scared, freaked-out mess.

  I’m paralyzed with fear.

  Snap out of it and make a decision, Keatyn.

  I look at Riley. He’s got on a hoodie over the tie-dyed shirt he’s wearing for 70s day today. “Can I have your jacket?”

  He pulls it off and hands it to me. I put it on and pull the hood up over my head. I look over and see the big Lost and Found box. There are a pair of Cougar Athletics sweatpants lying right on the top. I grab them and pull them on over my skirt and fringed cowboy boots.

  “What are you doing? You’re acting very strange. Are you on something?”

  “What? No. I’m . . . I, uh, just thought that I shouldn’t walk in your dorm looking like a girl. It’s a disguise.”

  “When we get there, you are going to tell me what the hell is going on.”

  I nod my head and pull on his arm. The second bell already rang for the next period, so the hallways are empty. I peek around a corner to look outside. To survey the area. To see if Vincent or any other stranger is lurking there.

  “Let’s sneak down by the trees.”

  “No way. If we look like we’re doing something wrong, we’ll get caught. We’re walking straight down the pathway to the dorms. If anyone asks what we’re doing, we’ll say getting a paper out of my room, for class.”

  I’m beyond logic but that sounds good. “Give me your sunglasses.”

  “A hoodie, sweats, and sunglasses. Are you afraid Dawson will find out? I swear, I’ll never tell.”

  He’s trying to make me laugh, I know.

  But it’s not working.

  We safely get to his dorm room without running into anyone.

  I shut the door, slump against it, then slide down to the floor.