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Get Me

Page 15

by Jillian Dodd


  That many times.

  11:55pm

  Twisted Dreams and I are on stage. We just finished an interview and now the world premiere of the "Meet Me at the Beach" music video is being shown.

  While the video plays, they ask Damian and me to stay on stage for the countdown to midnight.

  A makeup artist runs powder across our faces and a producer says, "You'll be on screen for the midnight kiss."

  "But, uh . . ." Damian says.

  "We don't have time to discuss. And watch what you say. Your microphones will be live," she tells us. "And, we're back in three, two . . ."

  The New Year's countdown starts, the ball drops, and Damian looks into my eyes. If they flash back to us, we'll probably look like we're in love.

  "3! 2! 1! Happy New Year!" we yell as confetti and glitter drop from the ceiling.

  Damian grabs me around the waist, goes Ribbit into my ear, and then dips me dramatically and kisses me.

  I come up hugging him and laughing.

  We get the okay to leave the stage and I immediately find Aiden.

  "I need a New Year's countdown redo," I say, slipping into his arms.

  "You looked like you liked it," Aiden says, referring to my kiss with Damian.

  "It was supposed to look that way. The dip was dramatic so people wouldn't notice he didn't fully kiss my lips. Kissing Damian is like you kissing your sister."

  Aiden cups my face with his hands. "Sounds like you need your lips fixed."

  A big grin forms on my face. "That's exactly what I need."

  People are still kissing and cheering. There are more shouts of Happy New Year. Confetti is still swirling through the air. But when Aiden's face is close to mine and he slowly starts counting down from ten, it's like the world disappears and there's only us.

  "9 . . . 8 . . . 7 . . . 6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . . 3 . . . 2 . . . 1."

  The second our lips touch, mine are fixed.

  "Happy New Year, Boots."

  "Happy New Year, Aiden."

  "Next year, and from now on, I don't care what's going on in your life. I'm going to be the one kissing you at midnight. We'll run away if we need to keep you safe, but those lips are mine from now on. No more pretending, unless you're on a movie set. Promise me."

  "Uh . . ."

  Aiden frowns but says, "Fine. Promise me that if we are together next year, I'll be the only one you kiss at midnight."

  God, he is so amazing.

  "I promise. Speaking of that, who did you kiss at midnight?"

  "I kissed my sister on the cheek and then Riley kissed both of us. I really want to get you home."

  "Why's that?" I flirt.

  His hands move very inappropriately to my ass, giving it a squeeze. "I think you know exactly what I have in mind."

  "Maybe I want you to tell me."

  "We still haven't used the feather from your naughty Santa."

  "Oh, gosh. We better get going."

  The camera loves you.

  3:20am

  Of course, we couldn't leave right then, so it's already past three by the time we're all in the limo heading home from the party.

  Aiden's arm is wrapped around me, and I'm still thinking about the feather when I feel my phone vibrate inside my clutch.

  Other than a few selfies with everyone at the party tonight, I really haven't looked at my phone. Cooper told me he'd handle everything. That we should relax and enjoy our night.

  I pull my phone out to check it.

  There are some Happy New Year group texts, but one catches my eye.

  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.

  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.

  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 is
n'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 who's 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."

  Aiden gets up, pulls me up with him, and kisses me. "We didn't get breakfast. Why don't I cook and you man the phones? I know you won't be able to sleep until you know for sure."

  I want to start crying again because of Aiden's unwavering support. He flicks my bottom lip and says with a laugh, "You don't have to give me the pout. I'll make bacon."

  I let out a laugh.

  Then I grab him, hug him tightly, and whisper, "I want bacon," even though I mean something else entirely.

  SUNDAY, JANUARY 1ST

  Being really loud.

  1pm

  We got numerous call backs this morning.

  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 many 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."

  "Are you still drunk? Don't you understand that Vincent got close enough to you last night that he was able to steal your phone? He. Was. In. Your. House. That should be freaking you the fuck out."

  "I don't know, maybe. You're right. I didn't really think it through. I just know I have to see her."

  I close my eyes shut tight. "Tell you what. I'll come in a little early and we'll work out a plan that will keep us both safe."

  "Okay, Keats."

  "Go back to bed, B. I'll talk to you later."

  I hang up the phone, cover my mouth with my hand, and scream into it.

  "A little frustrated?" Cooper asks.

  "Is that how you feel when you think I'm doing something stupid?"

  Cooper just smiles and laughs at me.

  I'm about to collapse in bed when Tommy calls my house phone.

  "You weren't answering your cell," he says.

  "It's broken. Sorry. Hope I didn't worry you."

  "I immediately called this phone, so I wasn't worried yet. Hey, I have a big favor. Could you and Damian run over to Matt's house and take Bad Kiki for a quick walk? The dog sitter just called and said she's sick. Probably hung over."

  "Are you back in town?"

  "Yeah, Moffet called and requested a meeting with Matt and me."

  "But it's New Year's Day."

  "I know, but he's flying back to L.A. tonight and didn't want to miss us. And, when the head of the studio requests your presence . . ."

  "You get on a plane."

  "Yep. We left Nice at seven am. It's going to be a long day."

  "We'll be happy to walk the dog, Tommy."

  "Thank you."

  Damian and I pick up Kiki and take her to Central Park, with Cooper in tow.

  Aiden offered to go with Damian, but I'm even more nervous about having him anywhere near either of us in public.

 

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