Garrett says, "Are you okay? Did you mean to hit the app three times?"
"I'm at Brooklyn's surf tournament in New York. He's here," I whisper.
I look at Vincent. It's hard to believe such a nice looking man could be so messed up. I can see why they let him go. Apparently he's taken an interest in surfing. At least that's what he'd tell anyone who asked.
He puts his sunglasses back on, but then he frowns and reaches in his pocket. He takes a call, walks over, and leans against the town car, talking on his phone.
"Oh my God," I whisper breathlessly. "Please, please, go away."
"Should I get out and tell him to get the hell off my car?" the driver says.
"No. Don't move. Don't even speak."
We sit in silence while Vincent leans against the car. He's having an animated conversation. I can't really hear what he's saying, but he sounds pissed.
Vincent is just arriving at the surf tournament when he gets a call from one of the thugs who is supposed to be watching the surfer's tent. He's hoping for good news.
"Did you find her? I just got here."
"Sorry, boss, but I'm not there," the thug replies. "My car broke down and had to be towed, but I've got a guy on his way."
Vincent slams his fist into the side of the car he's leaning on. He's so pissed off.
He slams his fist into the side of the window and I jump about four feet into the air.
"That's it," the driver says. He opens the car door and says to Vincent, "What the fuck are you doing hitting my car?"
I dive further down into the floorboards as Garrett yells at me, "What the hell are you doing there?"
Fuck.
Why did he have to do that?
And he's left his door open.
Vincent slams his phone into his pocket. "I'm sorry, sir. Just got a call with some bad news." He turns and looks at the window. Literally straight at me. "It doesn't appear I did any damage." Then he reaches in his pocket, pulls out a wad of cash, and peels off a twenty. A picture drops out of the wad.
The driver bends down to pick it up.
Vincent says, "You been here long?"
"Only about an hour."
"You happen to see this girl?" He holds my photo in front of the driver's face.
I thought my heart stopped before.
I may literally be going into cardiac arrest.
Please, God. Please don't let him be swayed by a wad of cash. Please let him say no. Please. Please.
Garrett yells in my ear again, "Keatyn, goddammit, answer me."
"Shush."
I hear the driver say, "I've seen a lot of pretty girls. Can't say I've seen that one, though."
"Thanks, anyway," Vincent says. "Sorry about the car." And he walks away.
The driver gets back in the car.
"I can't believe you did that after I told you to stay in the car!"
"Nobody is going to hit my car and get away with it. He had a picture of you."
"I was afraid when you saw that wad of money, you might tell him I was in here."
"No way, Miss. I saw his eyes. He has cold eyes."
"Yes, he does."
"You ready to get out of here, I take it?"
"Yes. Please." Then I say into my phone, "I'm fine, Garrett. We're leaving. I'll call you back in a few minutes."
After he drives for about ten minutes, with me staring out the back window trying to make sure we're not followed, I have him pull into a convenience store parking lot.
"I need to make a phone call," I tell him, then step outside of the car.
I call Garrett back. Tell him what just happened. He puts me on hold to call B's security team.
I pace the length of the car.
His voice booms in my ear. "What the hell were you thinking going there? All the work we did to get you somewhere safe and you go see Brooklyn at a publicized event?"
"I thought it would be okay. I never thought he would fly all the way to New York."
"Do you believe me now? Do you fucking believe that you can never let your guard down again? Do you now believe me when I said your life as you knew it is over?"
I start bawling and lean against the window Vincent punched. "Yes, I believe you. I'm sorry."
"None of this will work if you don't make it work."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"No. No sorries. I want you to think about what could have happened to you there. I want you to think about what Vincent wants to do to you. Are those pleasant thoughts?"
I sob. "No."
"Good. Remember them next time you think about doing something stupid like this. Let's get you back to school."
"I'm going to the Hamptons. Some friends from school have a house there. I'll be safe. It's my new life. I swear, Garrett, I'm trying. I really am."
Garrett calms down. I hear him take a deep breath.
"Please don't tell my mom or James or Tommy. Promise me?"
"I'm putting you on hold. Don't hang up."
"Okay."
I wait on hold for a few minutes. A text from the spa pops up with an address.
Garrett clicks back on. "I want you to get the driver to take you to the address that was just sent to you. Do not, under any circumstances, tell him where you are going next. Do you understand?"
"I understand. What is at the address?"
"A helicopter. I'm getting you the fuck to the Hamptons and fast."
I let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you."
"As for telling your family, I will keep quiet if you promise to never do something so stupid again."
"I got it."
His voice softens. "Are you okay?"
"No. Yes. I don't know." I start to cry again and stutter out, "I went . . . to . . . to . . . see Brooklyn . . . and he . . . hooked up with a girl . . . in a cabana . . . while I was there."
"Damn. That's not cool."
"I know. You'll make sure he's safe though, right? As much as I'd like to kill him right now, I don't really want anyone else to hurt him."
"They said he's out surfing. He's fine. Right now I want you to tell your driver to take you to the address. Remember not to tell him where you are going. Okay?"
"Okay."
Vincent has no idea just how close he was to Keatyn. After a full day in the sun at the tournament with no sign of her, he gives up, and goes to the Hamptons.
Where she also happens to be.
Neither Keatyn nor Vincent knew the other was there. Can you imagine what would have happened if they ran into each other on the beach there?
Weeks later, she shows up online. Could it really be her? Could he somehow trace her through the Internet? He should have thought of that sooner.
He watches the video of her again, allowing it to arouse him. Allowing him to dream again of them together. He can't give up. He must find his beloved Lacy and take her away from those trying to keep them apart. He's also mad at Keatyn.
I walk quietly out into the hall and then into the concrete stairwell.
"What's wrong?" I say when I answer Garrett's call.
"Some things have been going on that I need to update you on. On your Facebook wall, people have been speculating about where you are."
"You should just delete my profile."
"We're monitoring it. And some interesting things have come up. Specifically, there has been a lot of talk about rehab facilities. A little over two weeks ago, one was mentioned by name. A famous one in Malibu."
"Okay?"
"A day later, their office was broke into. Files were searched."
"I've heard that's not uncommon. Paparazzi trying to get a story."
"I agree. But then, nine days ago, another one was named. The one we sent the plane to in Utah."
"Did it get broken into too?"
"Yes. And, a few days ago, another one in Arizona."
"Have you been following him?"
"Yes, but he hasn't left. He probably hired someone to do it."
"Okay, so he's still looking for me. Got it. I won't do anything stupid."
"There's something else."
I instantly panic. "Mom? The girls?"
"No. They're all fine. It's your friend, Cush."
"What about him?"
"He, well, he left. He's not at your school anymore."
"Where is he?"
"There's a message from him on your Facebook. On your iPad is a special icon that looks like the one on your phone only it's orange. Hit that. Then log into Facebook. It's a program that doesn't allow your IP address to be tracked. Read the message. I'll wait."
I log on and take a deep breath. I have numerous messages and notifications, but I look for the one from Cush.
And open it.
Keatyn, I came to your party because I had to apologize to you. Tell you I was sorry about what I said after the whole Mandy thing. That it wasn't your fault.
I had something else to tell you too. It's the real reason I came back. After all the plans we'd made, I felt like I owed it to you to tell you in person.
Here's what I was supposed to tell you: I decided to live with my dad and go to school in Oregon. I thought it would suck here, but it really doesn't. I like coming home and having people in the house. Everyone here is really nice and I kinda met this girl. She's sweet. You'd like her. She doesn't care about being popular. It's not that big of a deal here.