Keatyn Unscripted (The Keatyn Chronicles Book 8)

by Jillian Dodd

  There’s a cheap prop ocean and cut-out sun in the background, and no one on the screen but Lacy as the music starts with Sun shining on your face.

  The partygoers cheer for her. She’s with Damian, pretending to be on a date with him. She’s wearing a flirty little dress, much like the one she wore when they had dinner together. Ice cream at our favorite place. Blonde hair blowing in the breeze. Baby, spend your summer days with me.

  The scene changes back to the beach, only this time she’s wearing a bikini, shorts, and heeled sandals that make her tan legs look even longer.

  The partygoers whistle wildly and make lewd comments about her, punching Brooklyn in the shoulder and slapping him on the back. Vincent is trying to watch both, but he’s mesmerized by her on the screen, as most of the viewers are. Laying in the sand. Drinking, getting tan. Kissing in these heat waves. Got my Ray-Bans. Laughing, holding hands. Crashin’ on the beach for days.

  There are flashes of her during the chorus. She’s dancing around the band, shimmying against Damian, sitting on the drummer’s lap, learning to play the keyboard. I’m thinking ’bout . . .Venice and Malibu. It’s only me and only you. She bursts out laughing then covers her eyes, like she’s embarrassed. It might be the most adorable thing he’s seen her do, right up there with her blowing him a kiss. He wishes he was recording it.

  I love it; you’re all I really need. It’s just her face now, her eyes brighten as she looks at him. It’s like she just realized he was across the room from her. A smile breaks across her face. She’s happy to see him. Then she kisses her fingers and blows him a kiss, causing his body to heat up quickly, and the guys to say more sexual things about her. Baby, meet me at the beach.

  This song, did she write it for the band? It’s literally their song. He must acquire the right to use it in the movie soundtrack. Lacy and Vincent meet at the beach. And they will end up there.

  Cotton candy, Ferris wheel. Crazy love is what I feel. Blasting out our favorite tunes. Late nights sneaking in your room.

  As the video continues, the noise dies down. The crowd is mesmerized by her. There’s no mistaking it. Bobby was spot on. The girl lights up the screen in a way her whore mother never could.

  Moonlight on the shore. Always wanting more. You light me up like a bonfire. You make me hit the floor. That’s what lips are for. Summer nights, we’re getting higher. I’m thinking ’bout . . . Venice and Malibu. It’s only me and only you. I love it; you’re all I really need. Baby, meet me at the beach.

  He puts his hands in his pockets, trying to hide his very obvious erection.

  When it’s just us.

  I feel the rush of every ocean wave. And after a kiss, I never imagined it as good as this.

  He can practically feel her lips on him.

  But as she continues to flirt and flit across the screen going from the surfer girl next door to sexy screen siren, he can’t help but allow himself release. No one in this room is paying attention to him.

  They are all glued to the screen.

  I’m thinking ’bout . . .Venice and Malibu. It’s only me and only you. I love it; you’re all I really need. Baby, meet me at the beach.

  There’s a collective sigh from the crowd as the video ends. They all want to see it again, but instead, they go to commercial. Vincent watches Brooklyn closely, notices him checking his watch. Is she coming here after the show? She wouldn’t make it for that midnight kiss, but . . . the look on Brooklyn’s face surprises him. Most guys would be thrilled with the comments his buddies are making about his hot girlfriend, but he’s not. It’s upsetting him.

  The commercial break is over, and Keatyn is on stage with the announcer and Damian Moran. The New Year’s countdown begins, the ball drops, and Damian looks into her eyes.

  “3! 2! 1! Happy New Year!” they yell as confetti and glitter drop from the ceiling.

  Vincent watches Brooklyn carefully and notices his eyes go wide with shock when Damian grabs her around the waist, dips her back dramatically, and kisses her.

  He grabs a bottle of alcohol and makes his way outside, clearly upset.

  But what Vincent sees next doesn’t surprise him. Keatyn comes up laughing. If the kiss were an epic, movie-type kiss, like the kind that will happen in their movie, she wouldn’t have come up laughing. She would have gazed into his eyes as they shared a special moment.

  Vincent knows she’s acting.

  As he watches Brooklyn sit in the sand and take a swig, it’s clear that he doesn’t.

  Matt is still in love with Lacy.

  He could take Matt tonight, easily, but unfortunately the location for the shoot is still not quite ready. He needs a few more days.

  He notices that there’s a cell phone lying on the counter next to the spot vacated by Brooklyn. Well, well.

  This could be fun, he thinks as he texts her.

  B: Had I known you were partying with Damian tonight, I would have joined the fun. Loved the video.

  I reply.

  Me: Happy New Year, B!! I’m glad you liked the video. We had a lot of fun making it.

  B: You know, the camera loves you. But, then, I always said you have a very expressive face.

  I drop my phone in a panic, instantly knowing that I’m talking to Vincent and not B.

  Aiden sees the look on my face. “What’s wrong?”

  Damian picks up my phone. “That doesn’t sound like something Brook would say.”

  I bury my hands in my palms, trying to drown out their voices so I can think straight.

  “You’re right, he wouldn’t say that. I think Vincent has his phone.” I turn toward Cooper. “Will you please call Garrett and find out who is on B’s security detail tonight and where the hell he is?”

  Cooper starts dialing.

  Aiden touches my arm sweetly, but I pull away, my hands shaking. “I. Need. My. Phone.”

  “You’re not thinking of replying, are you?” Damian asks.

  I try to grab my phone from him, but he puts it behind his back.

  “Damian, don’t mess with me!”

  “Keatyn, you need to think this through. Couldn’t he track you?”

  “I have a number with a Georgia area code and billing address. I’m in a moving car. He already knows I’m in New York. Give me my phone. Now!”

  “Give her the phone,” Aiden says to Damian in a commanding tone, causing Damian to immediately comply.

  Me: What’s up, Vincent?

  B: What are you talking about? This is Brooklyn Wright’s phone. By the way, I wanted to wish you a Happy New Year. This is our year.

  I look at Aiden, who I know is reading along with me. “Sick,” he says. Then he reads the text out loud.

  “What are you going to say back?” Riley asks.

  I notice a grim look on Cooper’s face as he says, “I’ll put her on speaker.”

  “Garrett!? Where is he?” I yell.

  “He’s in Malibu,” Garrett replies through the speaker. “He had a New Year’s Eve party at his house. Refused security.”

  “But, Garrett! I told you . . .”

  “Let me finish. After the rose incident, you expressly told me not to listen to either Brooklyn or his dad regarding their security, so I had a team outside the home.”

  “Front or back?”

  “Front. That’s where everyone entered the party.”

  “Fuck,” I mutter. “Call them, Garrett. Tell them to enter the house—by force, if necessary—and find Brooklyn! What about Vincent? Aren’t there supposed to be two teams on him?”

  “He went to a New Year’s Eve party at a mansion in Bel-Air. They couldn’t follow him through the gates, so they are waiting for his car to come back out.”

  “So, in other words, you have no idea where either of them are?!” I look up at Cooper. “Tell the driver to stop the car. I have to get out.”

  I feel trapped.

  Claustrophobic.

  Sick.

  When the car stops, I quickly get out.

&
nbsp; Please let Brooklyn be okay.

  Maybe he dropped his phone earlier today.

  Maybe he left it on the beach when he surfed. He always does that.

  I start walking up the sidewalk randomly, but then see a cute brownstone.

  One with steps that I plop down on.

  I have to calm down and focus. Focus on getting information from Vincent.

  It’s a few hours later before she replies.

  But worth the wait.

  He needs to let her know that no one she loves will be safe unless she comes back home.

  Unless she does their movie. But there is more to the text than that. Depending on how things go, it could also be used as evidence.

  Against Matt.

  Me: Why do you have Brooklyn’s phone?

  B: I keep telling you. This is your beloved B, who has a lovely home that is perfect for a party. It was the perfect place to watch your video. I wasn’t thrilled with all the comments my friends were making about you, but I guess that comes with the territory of dating someone famous.

  Me: We aren’t dating anymore. If you were really B, you’d know that. We’ve been over for a long time.

  B: You’re just playing hard to get. But know this. I want you back. And no one you love will be safe until we’re together. By the way, how’s Grandma?

  Cooper sits down next to me. “Garrett just called back. Keep in mind, it’s just past midnight in California, but they couldn’t find Brooklyn anywhere in the house and no one seemed to know where he is. His father apparently isn’t in town.”

  “Do you know about what happened to my grandma?”

  “Yes.”

  I hand him my phone. “Read the texts. Screen shot them. Text them to Garrett. See if there’s anything he can do, legally.”

  “There isn’t, Keatyn. He keeps saying he’s B. You aren’t going to be able to prove otherwise.”

  “B would never threaten me.”

  “If he was the jealous boyfriend, he might.”

  “That makes no sense, but whatever. I need to talk to Damian.”

  I peek my head in the limo door. “Damian, start calling and texting all our friends. All the surfers. Girls they hang out with. Anyone and everyone whose numbers you have that could possibly have been invited to his New Year’s Eve party.”

  “Do a mass text to everyone you know,” Riley instructs Damian. “Include our numbers on it and we’ll start calling each one.”

  “And pray someone knows,” Aiden adds. His voice is like a shock to my heart.

  I look at him, at Damian, at Peyton, at Riley, and at Ariela.

  My friends.

  I become instantly worried.

  About location services.

  Phone tracking.

  Hacking.

  My plan is supposed to revolve around Vincent knowing where I was, not where I am now.

  I quickly get out of the car and grab my phone out of Cooper’s hand.

  “Do you have a pocketknife?”

  Cooper reaches in his pocket and pulls out something that is much more than a pocketknife.

  When my eyes get big at its size, he shrugs. “It’s ceramic, passed through the metal detectors at the party tonight.”

  “I think we need to take out my SIM card. I don’t want him to be able to track me. Even if it’s only a remote possibility.”

  Cooper gets up, opens the passenger door in the front of the limo, and asks the driver if he has a paperclip. He leans out of the door shaking his head then asks everyone in the back.

  “Keatyn, do you still have the envelope that the tickets were in?” Aiden asks.

  “Uh, I think so?”

  He picks up my baguette, flips open the clasp, grabs the envelope, digs inside, and pulls out a shiny paperclip.

  “You’re brilliant,” I tell him, quickly using it to pop the SIM card out of my phone.

  I hand it to Cooper, who throws it in a trash bin. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Once we’re all back in the car and moving, Cooper whispers to me, “I don’t want this driver to take us to your loft. New plan for getting home, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes. We could be being followed right now.”

  “We’ll never get a hotel room on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Let’s go to Damian’s. Get dropped off. Go in the building. In the elevators. It’s controlled access, so no one could follow us. If they break in later, no one will be there because they’re all still in France.” I notice that Damian has stopped making phone calls and is looking at me. “Any word?”

  “No. I just heard you say my name.”

  I lean over and whisper to him. “If we got dropped off at your dad’s building, could you run up and get the keys so that we could use his car?”

  “I wouldn’t even have to go upstairs,” he whispers back. “It’s got an access code on the door handle. The keys are always in it.”

  “Perfect.”

  Even after shaking any tail we may have had and getting back to my loft, we still haven’t heard from anyone who knows where Brooklyn is.

  “Go ahead and get some sleep,” I tell everyone. “It’s long past midnight there now, so everyone has probably headed home.”

  I go in my room with Aiden, walk into my closet, and am stripping off my party dress when one of Aiden’s Eastbrooke sweatshirts catches my attention.

  A scenario flashes through my brain. Vincent finding out where I live. Searching the loft for clues. I grab Aiden’s sweatshirt and toss it on the floor. Now I’m crying, as I frantically whip through his clothes, searching for more.

  “What are you doing?” Aiden asks as he comes into the closet.

  “You can’t have this stuff here! You have to get it out!” I yell.

  “My clothes? But you said . . .”

  “Anything Eastbrooke. Help me. I have to make sure . . . Because if anyone . . . And I don’t want . . .”

  I collapse, falling to the floor in a puddle of emotions.

  Aiden drops to the floor next me, pulls me into his arms, and lets me cry.

  After a few minutes, he kisses the top of my head and says, “Shhhh. Calm down, baby. Listen to your heart. What does it say?”

  I look up at him. “What do you mean?”

  “Your gut. Your interaction with Vincent. Do you think he has Brooklyn?”

  I squint at him, taking a deep breath and clearing my mind as he wraps a cashmere robe around me.

  “You’re shaking your head,” he says, pulling me out of my reverie.

  “I am?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t think he has him.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because Vincent was still threatening me. Still trying to scare me. If he had Brooklyn, he wouldn’t have to try. He wouldn’t have brought up my grandma. He would have hinted that he was with Brooklyn or something. I think he just wanted me to know that he was close. Too close.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Not at all. My brain is panicked and on overload. But my heart isn’t . . . as panicked.”

  Keatyn gets numerous call-backs the next day.

  But no one has the information we need.

  No one knows where Brooklyn is.

  They all assume he’s at his house.

  They remember watching the music video with him. Watching the ball drop in New York.

  Doing shots.

  I’m still pacing.

  It’s what I’ve been doing since we got home.

  I’m really worried.

  And the longer I don’t hear from him the more worried I get.

  I’m currently seriously contemplating stealing Damian’s phone, running off with Cooper, and getting to a location where I can call B’s cell.

  My phone rings with a call from Mark at 1:26.

  At this point, I’m not holding out much hope that he’ll tell me anything different.

  In fact, knowing him, he’s probably going to give me shit for calling so ma
ny times while he’s trying to sleep off New Year’s Eve.

  “Hey, Mark,” I answer.

  “Keats?” B’s groggy voice asks.

  “Brooklyn?! Where the hell are you?! Are you okay?!”

  “I’m at Mark’s. I’m pretty hung over and you’re being really loud.”

  That sets me off. “What the hell were you thinking? You had a party at your house? Did you know that Vincent was there?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Where’s your phone, B? Why aren’t you calling from it?”

  “I couldn’t find it last night. I’m sure I just set it down somewhere.”

  “Vincent texted me from it last night. He was there. In your house. Said he watched the music video there. Said your friends were saying things about me.”

  “They were. I didn’t like it.”

  “You didn’t like the video?”

  “No, Keats. They were all slapping me on the back, making sexual comments. It upset me.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because they shouldn’t be talking about my girl like that.”

  “Your girl?”

  “You know what I mean. They all think we’re still together. Most of them were watching the live footage when I won.”

  “I want you out of Malibu. Now.”

  “I can’t. I’m meeting my mom on Tuesday, remember?”

  “You need to cancel it. Or at least meet her somewhere else.”

  “I’m not canceling. I already told her to meet me at Buddy’s at six. There will be lots of people there. Plenty safe. Are you still coming?”

  “You seriously won’t change it?”

  “I can’t. I promised.”

  I let out a sigh to calm myself down. “Fine. I’ll be there. Let’s meet a few minutes early. We need to talk.”

  “We need more than a few minutes, Keats. Why don’t you come in the night before. We can surf in the morning. Hang out. Chill. We need some time together.”