"I'm fine. I'll be fine. But I'll be better if you can prove Vincent killed him. Then he can go to jail and I'll be free."
"Do you need me for anything else after this?"
"No, this was the big deal," I say, looking down at the designer dress and shoes I've had on for a total of twenty minutes. "Kinda silly, isn't it? Like, in perspective."
"Yeah, it kinda is. As soon as this is over, I'm catching a plane to LA."
"I think that's a very good idea."
Abby is upset after Garrett tells her about the tattoo artist's death and his connection to Keatyn. And although he tells her his death appears to be a random mugging, she knows better. And to prove her point, this morning when she gets to her dressing room, she finds a single piece of mail. She knows immediately who it's from. She doesn't bother showing it to anyone because she knows there is nothing they can do-no proof who sent the photo. And what a photo it is. A man is standing next to a blown-up photo of Keatyn coming out of the ocean, her tattoo visible. There's an arm in front of the picture. Vincent's Abby tattoo is covered with his sleeve, but she knows it's there. On his wrist, Vincent has a chaos tattoo that matches Keatyn's.
She hides it away with the others.
While she's getting her hair done to prepare for their next shoot, Vincent is all that's on her mind. Bile fills her throat, causing her to jump out of her chair and rush to a trash can, where she wretches-the thought of Vincent's obsession sickening her.
"Are you expecting?" the hairstylist whispers to her.
And in that moment, she sees an opportunity. She doesn't want to lie, but she has to, for her children's sake. And even though the thought of it possibly being true breaks her heart, she sees no other choice. She has to distance herself further from her daughter, her husband, and her little girls-for their safety.
"I certainly hope not," she confides. "I'm afraid our relationship is a little rocky right now." She touches the woman's arm gently for effect and continues, "Please, don't tell anyone."
And you know what the child-rearing books say about when you start with a don't, that's exactly what they will do. And she's hoping the woman will find this news so juicy, she won't be able to keep it to herself. She needs the tabloids to say their relationship is rocky. She needs Vincent to read them-so that when she leaves Tommy and the girls, no one will be surprised. Including Vincent.
An alert pops up on Vincent's email screen. He has them set to notify him whenever certain names show up on the Internet. He clicks the link and reads: A Miami club owner's answer about its secret guest performer for this weekend has taken the Internet by storm. When questioned by a local radio show, the man simply answered that his club goers would be getting a little twisted. Fans are speculating that means none other than Damian Moran of Twisted Dreams will be on stage, causing VIP table prices to skyrocket quickly.
While Vincent is considering a trip to Miami, his cell phone rings.
"It's me," the girl says.
"Do you have something to report?"
"Yes."
"What is it?"
"We're maybe, kind of dating now. I just wanted to be upfront with you about it."
"I told you to get close to Brooklyn. If it goes beyond that, it's none of my business."
"Um, there's sorta maybe something else."
"What?"
"A girl. He has a photo of him and a girl on his Facebook page. It's a photo from before he started on tour. He won't really tell me much about her other than they were friends. But I think it's more."
"Yes, they dated before he left on tour."
"What do you know about her?" she asks.
"I'm paying you to get me information, not the other way around."
"Did you know that she was at his tournament in Long Beach?"
"New York?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me this before?!"
"I just found out. He mentioned it in passing."
"What did he say?"
"Why does it matter?"
"I told you before his personal relationships matter. Particularly if they are volatile."
"They got into a fight. She left. He says they are over, but he doesn't act like it."
"He's still in love with her?"
"He says she'll always have a piece of his heart."
"Why did they fight?"
"He won't tell me."
"Did he say where she is?"
"I assume she's back in California."
"I need you to find out specifically where she is. Check his phone. Find her address. We'll need to vet her, too." Vincent pauses, hoping. What could be better than Matt falling for someone else and staying out of the picture? "Are you in love with him?"
"Love? Oh, I don't know-maybe. He's really amazing. Deep. Like really deep. Being with him is so different than being around all the Hollywood types who are hustling for the next role, hoping for their big break. He's so chill, but so focused. And," she sighs, "so cute."
"Find out more about the girl. Report back," Vincent says, then hangs up the phone.
She went to Long Beach. They were both there. His men were there and never saw her. He reads the Internet alert one more time and makes a decision.
He picks up the phone again, calls the club and asks to speak to the owner. He offers an exorbitant amount of money for backstage passes and a VIP section.
And gets them.
It's clear. The thugs are worthless.
He's going to Miami himself.
Lacy is waiting for him. And this time, he's not coming home without her.
We get to the club and immediately go backstage, do some shots, get backstage wristbands, and get Damian set up to go. After that, he comes out and dances with us for a while.
About an hour later, it's time for him to go backstage to prepare for his performance.
"Hey, Riley, I'm going to run to the restroom before he comes on. I'll be right back."
I wait in line.
Forever.
No. Like, F-O-R-E-V-E-R.
I didn't have to go that bad when I got in line, but now I do.
Finally!
I pee.
Then I stop at the bar to get a bottle of water. After the shots we did backstage, I need some water.
I stand on the edge of the dance floor sipping my water and looking for Riley and Dallas. The dance floor is packed.
I'm scanning the crowd when I feel someone move in close behind me.
I'm pretty sure it's Riley. I start to turn around as he wraps his arms tightly around my waist.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are."
My heart stops.
I'm face to face with Vincent.
"Aren't you the tricky little minx?" he says. "I've been looking all over for you."
"How did you find me?"
"I followed the breadcrumbs. You toured with him this summer. I heard he was going to be here. Took a chance. So, where are they keeping you?"
"Here in Florida," I lie. "I'm in a witness protection program. So, you found me? You've found me a couple times before, but I keep getting away." I try to make my voice sound like I'm unaffected by him.
But I'm so affected.
I will my body not to tremble.
Don't let him know you're scared, Keatyn.
Vincent's still gripping my waist so tightly that I know it's going to leave a mark.
"You won't be getting away this time. So here's how it's gonna go down. First, we're going to dance. You want to be an actress; consider this your biggest role. You're going to dance with me like you were dancing with that boy at your birthday party."
I can't hide the surprise from my face.
Vincent nods, gripping my waist tighter. "Yes. I was watching. Even went to visit him in Oregon. He didn't know a thing. Not even your best friend, Vanessa, seems to know where they've been keeping you. She's quite the fun little distraction though. From what I understand, you left without saying goodbye to your friends."
"I just told you I'm in the witness protection program. Even my family doesn't know where I am." I put on a French accent and say, "I am a foreign exchange student named Michelle."
"You're not going to say goodbye to anyone tonight either. After we dance, you'll accompany me to my car and we're going home."
"Home?"
"Yes. We'll start filming immediately. I have everything prepared."
"And what if I scream? There are a lot of people here."
"I have a gun, Abby. If you even move wrong, I'll start shooting. And I'll start with your friend, Damian. He's scheduled to go onstage about now."
The music stops. Damian walks out onto the stage.
I can't let him kill Damian.
"My name's not Abby. I'm Keatyn. Don't you remember that? I'm Abby's daughter."
He just grins at me.
The kind of grin that makes my skin crawl.
"We're going to dance. Now."
He pulls me out onto the dance floor and pulls me into his arms.
I put my hands on his back but I can't move them.
I can't make them move. I don't want to touch him.
Anywhere.
He pulls me in close and runs his hands all over me. Down my back. Cupping my ass. Down the outsides of my thighs.
I feel like I'm going to throw up.
"It feels so good to finally have you in my arms. I heard we just missed each other at Long Beach."
"How do you know that?"
He grins. "I have my ways. And then we met again in New York City. Wasn't that something? Cat and mouse chase through the streets. We may have to add that to the movie. It was very exciting." He pauses. "You're not dancing with me like you did him. Move your hands," he commands.
My mind is going a thousand miles a minute. Don't make a scene here. Just do what he says. Then when he tries to get you out to his car, you can fight him.
Punch him.