The second my feet hit the concrete floor, Vincent starts moving quickly toward me.
My eyes get huge.
I point and go, "Um . . ."
The bouncer turns around and says to Vincent, "Go back to the VIP section now. We'll meet you there."
"I just want to talk to her. I'm a producer. This could be her big break."
"I don't want a break," I whisper, putting my hand behind my back and gripping the gun.
Suddenly, Vincent charges toward the bouncer.
Shit!!
I move to avoid getting knocked down.
Vincent rushes toward her. He must have her, and he's tired of fucking around. She will be his tonight if it's the last thing he does. He takes the cigar holder out of his pocket. He just needs to get close enough for a little prick of a needle. Then she'll be out. He'll play the hero, carrying her out of the club, putting her in his car . . .
Just as he gets close, the cage swings, ramming into both himself and the bouncer, knocking them to the ground.
The man she was dancing with, burly guy he's never seen before, takes her hand and pulls her down the hall. Light floods the room from an exit door opening. Vincent picks himself up, gets the syringe out, and takes off running after her.
He'll kill the big guy, and then she will be his.
Cooper grabs me, pulls me down the hall, and pushes through an exit door.
The bright streetlights temporarily blind me.
"Which car is it?" Cooper yells.
I hand him the gun. "Here, take this."
"Where the hell do you get-"
I don't answer, just pull him toward a sweet black Ducati.
"A motorcycle?" Cooper panics. "I've never ridden one."
I hop on the bike, pull on my helmet, toss one to Cooper, pop the kickstand, turn the key, grab the clutch, and hit the start button, bringing the motor roaring to life.
"Just hang on!" I yell as both Vincent and the bouncer barrel out of the exit.
He and the bouncer following him get to the outside just in time to see her speeding off on a motorcycle. One that looks familiar. It's Matt's bike. He's seen them ride it before. Fury overcomes him.
He punches the bouncer in the face, knocking him to the ground, then takes his money back.
He runs back through the club, tosses his ticket to the valet, rips the keys out of his hand, and runs to his car. He needs to get to the Malibu Colony and fast.
He hits the gas, burning rubber out of the parking lot.
He knows where she's leading him.
Back to their beach.
I pop the bike into first gear with my foot, crack the throttle, and speed off into the night.
I make numerous turns through the warehouse district, already having memorized the streets, and then shoot out onto the highway near the Santa Monica airport.
I drive fast, weaving in and out of traffic.
Once I'm sure we're not being followed, I head toward the coast, merging onto the PCH, heading toward Malibu.
I try to stay close to the speed limit now, not wanting to get pulled over and end up a sitting duck on the side of the road.
Before the Malibu city limit, I make a right turn and pull into an unmarked parking lot. Then I hit the remote on the bike's keychain to open a big garage door and pull in, dousing the bike's lights and quickly closing the door behind us.
"I don't think we were followed, do you?" I ask Cooper as I turn off the bike, pull off my helmet, and shake out my hair.
"I don't know how the hell we could've been. You were driving like a maniac!"
I roll my eyes at him. "I was only doing eighty on the highway. Vincent has a Porsche. Those things are fast!"
Cooper takes his helmet off and sets it on the bike. "Somehow when you said stealth out the back, this was not what I envisioned."
"It worked, though. Come on, we've had our excitement for tonight. Let's get the hell out of here and back the airport."
"What about your wig? Our bags?"
I point to a Mustang sitting in the bay next to us. "It's all in the car."
"What is this? A chop shop? Is this all stolen?"
"No, it's the concierge detail shop that does Tommy's car. They pick up his cars from the house every few weeks, detail them, and put them back under their covers all shiny. He dropped the motorcycle off, picked up Tommy's Ferrari, moved our bags to the Mustang, and already has Tommy's car safely back home. He's also going to drive it around town tomorrow. You know, just to be seen."
"Did he not think it was an odd request?"
"Considering his clientele, probably not. Especially with the rumors of Tommy's affair."
"Oh," Cooper says. "That's smart."
I find the Mustang's keys hanging exactly where I was told they would be and replace them with the keys to Brooklyn's bike.
Even though B knows nothing about it, there's something comforting in the fact that his bike helped me tonight.
Cooper grabs my hand. "You're shaking."
"A little, but I'm fine."
"Adrenaline rush," he states. "It'll stop soon. In the meantime, I'll drive."
Vincent gets to his destination, sneaks out of his car with a gun in one hand and a syringe in the other.
Then he waits.
On the way to the airport, I throw the dress I wore earlier over my club clothes, tuck my hair back under the wig, rub off the paint, and gently remove the eyelashes.
"I have to admit," Cooper says, "I'm very surprised you know how to ride a motorcycle."
"That wasn't just any motorcycle. It was Brooklyn's. The concierge service takes care of B's and his dad's cars, too. I knew we were going to have to make a speedy exit, so it seemed like the best option. Honestly, I'm really lucky that he knows me, or I never would've been able to pull it off. I didn't exactly ask B if I could borrow his bike."
"What made you even want to learn?"
"I was fine with just riding on the back. It was fun, felt romantic, you know? But after a couple times of us going somewhere and B needing to take me back home before he was ready to leave, he decided I should learn how to ride it. That way I could take myself home if I needed to."
And once I learned how, he knew he could get high or drink and I could drive us both home. Although at the time that sorta pissed me off, I'm now really grateful I know how.
After we've taken off and gotten to cruising altitude, Cooper says, "So what do you think we accomplished? Seems like all it did was piss him off."
"We made him think I'm back home." I smile. "And remember, a pissed off, out-of-control, mistake-making Vincent is exactly what we want."
"I was there the whole time. In the shadows. Waiting for the right moment."
"I didn't see you."
"You didn't look scared."
"I had protection. Speaking of which, what did you do with it?"
"It's in the bag."
The flight attendant interrupts Cooper to ask us if we would like dinner or a snack.
"Dinner," Cooper says.
"I'll just have some water," I reply. I might not be shaking as bad on the outside anymore, but my insides are still a wreck.
"My sister needs to eat," Cooper tells the attendant. "Bring her a dinner along with her water."
She quickly comes back with plates of grilled chicken in a mushroom sauce on a bed of risotto.
I eat a little and then lean my head against Cooper's shoulder.
Vincent roams the area, covering both Lacy and Matt's home and the beach between for the better part of the night. As the sun starts to rise, he puts the gun away, slips the syringe back into its holder, and sits on the beach-remembering.
He opens the urn and slowly shakes the ashes out.
He doesn't look at the ashes falling into the sand; instead he looks into her eyes, sees the gentle caring in them. He's not sure the exact moment when he fell for her, but if they were to make a movie of their lives, it would be this moment.
The moment everything changed for him. The turning point.
She grabs one of his hands. Her hands are soft and the ocean breeze blows the sweet scent of her into his nostrils.
She squeezes his hand tightly and begins to pray. "Today we bring Viviane back to where she met the love of her life. Where she was the happiest she had ever been. We pray that she has been reunited with her great love in heaven, and they are now on their own version of this perfect stretch of beach. And we pray that her grandson, Vincent, is able to find that same kind of love someday. Amen."
What she says touches his soul. He knows they don't know each other that well, but her wish tells him all he needs to know. She wants him to find that kind of love.
With her.
I throw Grandmother's urn way out into the ocean, then turn and wrap my arms around her. My great love.
I can't help but cry.
For my grandmother, who I'll miss greatly. And for myself.
I wish grandmother could have met her. She would love her.
She puts her hand on his back and pats it. "Shhhh. It'll be okay. I promise."
He pulls his head up, wipes tears from his face, and says, "Thank you. I didn't want to do this alone, but I didn't really have anyone that I wanted to come with me."
"I'm glad I could help. I hope you still buy the house. She would love knowing you live here. Now we just need to find you a woman." She laughs. "For a guy that looks like you that should be easy. Why aren't you married yet, anyway?"
He laughs too. "Geez, now you sound just like her. I'll tell you what I told her: I have high standards." He pauses. "You looked pissed when you were walking down here earlier. Did you have a bad day? Did I just make it worse?"
"It doesn't really matter anymore. It's just high school drama."
"Yeah, but it's your drama. Tell me about it. It'll distract me, and I went to high school; maybe I can help."
He smiles at her. How could he not. She's confiding in him. Telling him everything he needs to know about her.
"I recently broke up with the guy I've dated for over a year. We were the perfect couple. Like everyone thought we were perfect, but the truth is we weren't. I don't think he was attracted to me. Or maybe he really does want to wait until he gets married, I'm not sure."
"You're a virgin? Really?" He can't help but be extremely pleased by this. The thought of being her first, fills his head. He fights an erection.
She hangs her head. "Yeah."
He pushes her chin up so she is forced to look at him. "Keatyn, that's a good thing."
"My friends think it's lame. It's like I'm flawed or not sexy enough."
"Sounds like your friends have some fucked up values. Sex is not what makes you sexy. I'm very serious about you being in my movie. Every guy in America is going to fall in love with you." What he doesn't say is that he already has.
"I highly doubt that. I can't even seem to get the one guy I like to fall in love with me. And if that isn't bad enough, my supposed best friend is threatening to tell everyone at school that I've never done it. Everyone thinks I did it all the time with my ex. If they find out, they'll look at me like I'm a fake Prada bag."
"Grandmother said that you shouldn't care what people say about you. The people who say bad things are insecure about themselves. When I was young, kids at school used to tease me about my mom. I learned to fight. Got tough. When I lived with Grandmother, she told me that if I had confidence, everyone else would have confidence in me. So I got good at faking it. Now, I don't even have to fake it anymore. Don't let them get to you."
"Okay, I'll try."