We walk into the marble lobby, getting into the special elevator that takes you all the way to the three-floor penthouse. I grab my phone and text Cori.
Me: How is she today?
She answers right away.
Cori: She’s the same, ignoring it. She isn’t sleeping even if she pretends she is.
Me: I’m in New York.
Cori: I’m not surprised. We are going shopping, and she has dinner with Tommy tonight.
Me: Keep me posted.
Cori: I will.
“So where do I stay?” Hunter asks from the living room. “I can see all of Central Park,” he says, and I look up.
“The guest floor is through that hallway and down six steps,” I tell him. “I need to get things set up for tomorrow night.”
“So you really think it’s going to be a good idea to get on the plane with her when she takes off?” My plan is to ambush her while in the air.
I shrug my shoulders. “She can’t jump out of the plane,” I tell him.
Turning and walking out, I stop when he says, “But she can throw you out of one.” I have no doubt she probably will, but I’m not letting her go without the biggest fight of her life.
“I’ve got an errand to run,” I tell him, and he just nods.
I walk to the store I’m looking for and ring the bell. The door buzzes to let me in. An hour later, I’m walking out of the store with a black box.
I get back to the penthouse and send Hunter a message that I’m back, and he comes up to meet me. “Rachel is sending over the tape from the hotel. She said she doesn’t see anything, but maybe we will.”
“This guy is slick, I will give him that. He’s been a ghost this whole time,” I tell him, and he just nods at me.
He leans into me and whispers, looking around. “You know there is a woman who came to my room and offered me fresh towels.”
“Yeah,” I say, looking at the email. “There is also a butler who hangs around here somewhere.” I flip through the internet with her name, and she was right. I was very much forgotten the next day. Pedro, the butler, comes in and goes to work organizing our dinner. When I finally get to my room, I collapse on my bed.
Me: Is she in bed?
I text Cori, and she doesn’t get back to me right away. She’s been my saving grace this whole time. When I finally explained to her what happened, she was angry and sad for us. She then stored my name in her phone as Brianna just in case Kellie saw the texts.
Cori: She cancelled her dinner with Tommy and is lying in bed watching the skyline.
I put the phone on my chest, then look out my own window at the skyline, wishing I was with her and that she was in my arms. I close my eyes, seeing her face smiling and then laughing. I can still hear her laughter, and with that, I slowly drift off to sleep. In the past week, I’ve slept maybe a couple of hours a night, never really letting myself sleep in case she needed me.
I open my eyes eight hours later, and I jump out of bed, grabbing my phone and checking to see if I missed anything. I guess knowing that we were going to finally be together, my body let go, and I finally slept.
There are a couple of emails from Rachel about a possible lead to the amethyst heart that was sent. She is waiting on a reply from one man, and I know it has to be the key.
Dante sent two texts, both confirming what I already knew—that she is staying in, and the second is a list of things that she will be doing the next day. She has a couple of radio interviews, she is going to be on Good Morning America, and then she will be on The Howard Stern Show.
I see it’s almost four a.m., and I know I’m not going to be sleeping anytime soon, so I get up and change. Going to the gym, I push my body for a couple of hours, stopping when I get a text from Dante with a picture, and my hands almost snap the phone in my hand.
Dante: My view does not suck.
The picture is of Kellie wearing tight white jeans that cup her ass perfectly, the same ass that I bit a week ago. She is wearing a light pink shirt that ties at her neck and goes long to her knees, leaving her whole back open down the middle. Her long hair is piled on top of her head in a huge bun, and she is wearing the same color shoes as the shirt.
Me: Why are you taunting the beast?
Anthony replies, and I see that it’s a group message. Dante replies right away.
Dante: I’ve been up since two a.m. when she decided that it was a good idea to bake fucking banana bread. Guess who had to follow her to the kitchen and watch her?
Me: Well, your shift ends tonight at eleven, so you can sleep then.
I answer them, then I smile.
Me: I’m adding Rachel to this group text.
I laugh, knowing that Rachel will skin Dante’s balls. The two of them are like oil and water but never letting the other one go. They had been dating in secret for the last two years, but when push came to shove, they finally told us.
Dante: Fuck off.
Dante: I’m working. I have to go.
I turn on Good Morning America and wait to see her come out. I walk to the kitchen where I make a protein shake while I watch the show. Hunter comes in search of coffee. “Dalia put on the coffee at six,” I tell him, and he just nods. Kellie’s name is finally announced, and I see her coming out. She looks like she’s lost weight. Her eyes are a light green shade, and she smiles the whole time, but her smile is the fake one she reserves for the press. It isn’t her smile that she gives me that makes the side of her eyes crinkle, and it isn’t the smile that makes her eyes crystal green.
“So what are your plans after the tour?” one of the co-hosts asks her, and I wait to hear her answer.
“That is easy to answer,” she says, and the sound of her voice just makes everything okay. The tightness in my chest lets up a bit, my breathing comes out a touch easier, and I feel like it’s going to be okay. “I’m going to be holed up in a secret location enjoying me time.”
“If only she knew,” Hunter says, sitting down next to me, and I look over and glare at him. The interview is over, so I turn off the television. Our phones beep and when we both look down, we see it’s from Dante.
Dante: Change of plans. She’s hitting Live with Kelly and Ryan. Last-minute drop-in.
“I hate these last-minute plans,” I hiss and then turn on the television again. This time, she walks out, and I stop breathing. She’s still in the white jeans, but she’s changed her top, and her hair is now cascading down. Her shirt is a blue and white striped long-sleeved shirt ending right before the waist of her jeans, and it cuts right down the front in a V.
“Holy shit,” Hunter says from beside me, and I want to throat punch him. “If she moves even a touch, I think you’ll see something.”
“She’s taped in that,” I tell him with plans to burn that fucking shirt.
“Did she ever wear those shoes with you?” Hunter asks, and I finally see the strappy blue stilettos that tie around her ankle. I don’t know what they talk about. I have no idea if she even spoke. I send Cori a text.
Me: Throw that shirt out or I burn it. Either way, I win.
She responds right away, and I swear I can hear her laughing.
Cori: She bought seven of them in different colors.
I groan. The rest of the day goes by at a snail’s pace. Finally, at nine o’clock, I get dressed in my dark blue jeans and white shirt, and I grab my brown leather jacket. After putting on my black boots, I meet Hunter in the living room where he is dressed the same.
“What’s the ETA?” he asks me of the plan tonight. A plan I have been putting into action from the time I walked away from her.
“She always goes on stage at eight, and she’s off at ten thirty,” I tell him and then look at the clock to see it’s almost ten thirty. “We should head down and get to the airfield. She should be there no later than eleven, and I want to get on the plane and scope it out before she gets there.” He nods at me, then grabs his things, and we make our way outside to the truck already waiting at the curb.
I get in and make my way down to the private airfield where the plane is waiting. “She should be getting into the car right about now,” I say, and our phones both go off at the same time, but this time, I see that Cori is calling.
“Hello,” I answer the same time Hunter answers his phone quietly.
“Brian!” she shrieks, her tone making my blood turn cold. “Brian, she’s gone.” I look over at Hunter, who is listening to whoever called him. His eyes come to me, and I just know that something is wrong. Cori’s sob rips through the phone. “Brian.”
“Where are you?” I ask her, turning the truck around and speeding toward the venue.
“He has her,” she sobs, and my heart stops. I can’t think, I can’t breathe, I can’t do anything.
“Who has her?” I ask her, and all of a sudden, all the little pieces click together.
“Tommy.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kellie
My head feels so heavy as it rolls from side to side. I try to open my eyes, but the dizziness and throbbing make me stop. I groan, my hand going to my head as I try to stop the pounding and fight the darkness again, and then I hear the voice.
“Are you finally up?” I hear Tommy’s voice, and suddenly, it all comes back to me.
Stepping off the stage and throwing my hands up in the air to celebrate the end of the tour. Tommy waiting there for me with the biggest hug and smile. He pulled me to his side, his arm around my shoulder as he kissed my forehead and told me how proud he was of me. I couldn’t wait to get back to the changing room to shower and take off. My bags were packed, the plane was waiting, and I was going to sleep for a month. When we walked past the dressing room, I tried to stop, but he kept walking straight down the hallway, mentioning that he had a surprise for me. When we got close to the car, I looked over at him and then felt a little pinch in my neck as I was drugged.
Now here I am in the car as I try to open my eyes. Fighting the heaviness of my eyes, I try to focus on the darkness of the road, but the nausea sets in and my stomach feels like it’s roiling. “I’m going to be sick,” I grumble, then wonder if he’s going to pull over.
“You’ll be fine. We are almost there anyway,” he says, and I now lean back in the seat, my hand holding the handle of the car as I try to breathe through the nausea. “Just a little bit more and we’ll finally be home, honey.”
Honey? What is he talking about? “What home?” I whisper, my mouth dry. “Water.” I try to swallow again, and it’s like sandpaper. “I need water.”
“Not yet,” Tommy says, and I open my eyes and see that it’s pitch black outside and even the headlights of the car are off. “We are going to be arriving any minute, and now that we’re finally reunited, our life together can begin.” I look over at him and notice he’s sweating. He is usually so put together and always well groomed and dressed, and now he looks disheveled. His thumbs are tapping the steering wheel. The car takes a sharp right turn, and I fly to the side but then he finally puts the car in park and shuts it off by pressing the button. He gets out of the car, and I see his shadow walking to my side. When he opens the door, he leans in, kissing me on the lips. I lean away from his touch, and he touches my chin with his thumb. “It’ll only be a matter of time before we are husband and wife, and I can’t wait.” He leans over me to unbuckle the seat belt, and then he grabs my hand to help me get out of the car, but my knees give out, and I fall, the rocks cutting into my hands and knees. “Fucking bitch,” he curses and then grabs my upper arm, yanking me up. I have to focus, or I’ll fall again. He puts his arm around my waist, and my feet are just moving in slow motion until we get to the wooden stairs. We walk up the five steps, and then he opens the door, pulling me in and closing it behind him. I look around the cabin and see that it’s just a living room with the white and green checkered couch, and the dining room and kitchen all open. The only light is the little side lamp by the couch and the light over the kitchen sink. He walks me to the dining room and pulls out a wooden chair, then pushes me down on it. I almost fall over, but he steadies me and then walks to the counter and comes back with rope and duct tape.
“What are you doing?’ I ask him, and he wraps my feet together with the duct tape. I try to move them and can’t.
“I can’t have you running before the preacher gets here tomorrow,” he says, looking up, and I see that his eyes look crazy. He grabs my hands and does the same thing to them, and now even if I wanted to run, I can’t. “Hope it’s not too tight,” he says. I try to move my hands but nothing budges.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper, and then he ties me to the chair with the rope around my waist. “What is going on, Tommy?”
He runs his hands through his hair. “I never meant for this to happen,” he starts to say. “But …” Wringing his hands together nervously, he looks at me and tries to talk, but nothing comes out of his mouth.
“But what?” I look at him, trying to see if he will reason with me. “Whatever it is, we can fix it.” I try to get him to look at me. Surely, he wouldn’t hurt me.
“It’s gone,” he says quietly, sitting on the table in front of me. “Everything, it’s gone.”
“What do you mean it’s gone? What is gone?” I ask him, and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. I don’t know if it’s all this, but my stomach roils, and I have a feeling I’m going to throw up.
“It’s gone. Everything is gone. The company, the houses, my money, your money, it’s gone.” It’s worse than I thought, so much worse.
“I don’t understand.” I look at him, and he gets up and starts to pace in front of me. He runs his hands through his hair, pulling it and cursing.
“I took a gamble on a new project. A retirement project that was going to triple my money.” His voice then softens. “I just needed the investment, and then once I cashed out big, I was going to replace the money, all of it. They said six months tops, but then the city shut it down. The environmentalists blocked it because of fucking frogs or some shit.” He shakes his head. “We couldn’t touch it because of wildlife!” he yells, picking up a glass on the counter and throwing it against the wall. I close my eyes as it shatters behind me. “Then I just couldn’t get it back. I just kept chasing the money to get it back to you before anyone noticed it was missing, but I couldn’t get it back. No matter what I did, it just bled more money.”
“That explains it … My debit card was denied today,” I tell him. “We were at Gucci, and when I went to pay with my card, it said declined. Of course, they just gave me the stuff, and I didn’t have a chance to call the bank to discuss it.” The sickness I was feeling before comes back now, and I think I’m going to get sick. “Are you saying everything is gone? All my hard work.” I look at him, my voice going a bit louder than I wanted to.
“Everything but the houses in Nashville,” he tells me, and I laugh, not sure if I’m going crazy or in shock.
“How?” I have financial planners who watch my money to make sure this type of thing doesn’t happen.
“I forged some documents, and they didn’t question me,” he says, shaking his head. “I submitted some fake bills, and they just pushed them through.”
“They would have called me,” I tell him. At least, I’m hoping.
“They did, and I told them to let me tell you,” he says, rubbing his face.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask him softly, and he just shrugs, so I yell the last part, and I try to get up out of the chair, but the ropes prevent me from getting up, pushing me back down. “Why not just tell me?”
“I don’t know.” He closes his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands. “I was trying to get the courage to, okay?” He comes over to me and then squats in front of me. Grabbing my hand in his, he kisses it. I try to yank it away from him, but I’m stuck. “I was going to.” He now reaches out and pushes the hair away from my face, and I turn my head. He grabs my chin with more force than he’s ever used and then yanks my face back to his. He holds my chin in his
hand, telling me the rest. “And then Brian came into the picture,” he hisses, getting up. Putting his hands on his hips, he gets louder. “And all of a sudden, you had your head up your ass and then you went and fucked him,” he spits, and I blink my eyes closed. “I figure I’d scare you with the first couple of letters and then you would turn to me instead of him.” He laughs. “I’d save you.” He puts his hand on his chest. “I’d be the savior and make everything okay, and then you would finally do what I’ve been dying for you to do since the beginning.” I wait for the next part, my heart pounding. “Fall in love with me,” he whispers, putting his hand on my cheek and my stomach roils from his touch. “And then when you found out the truth, you would already be in love with me. But it wouldn’t matter because we’d figure it out together.” He drops his hand from my face, then looks in my eyes. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”
I try to make sense of it, try to see that the man in front of me is the same one who’s taken care of me from the very beginning. “It was you all along,” I whisper in shock. “All the letters, the heart, the roses … it was you?”
He puts his hands in his pockets. “After the stone, I was going to come to you.” He shakes his head. “But then Brian took you off the grid, and I couldn’t get any info on where you were.” He looks up and then exhales. “Nothing. He wouldn’t cave even when I threatened him. The only time I could get to you was at your shows, and then it was too late at that point.” He continues to shake his head, as if trying to get his thoughts in order. “I had people watching you with him, and they said you were in love with him.”
I laugh at him. He’s off his fucking rocker. “This is a joke, right?” I ask him and then look around. “This whole thing is a joke, right? You can’t seriously think I could love you?” I tell him, and he walks to me. His hand comes out, and it happens in slow motion or maybe it is just my brain taking longer to catch up to what just happened, but he backhands me across the face. I see stars. I’m not sure what is going on, and if I wasn’t tied, I would have fallen over. I try to focus and see he is now standing in front of me with a gun pointed at me. “You might as well shoot me because there is no way in hell I’m marrying you!” I yell at him, trying to wriggle free. Everything happens so fast, and I’m not ready.
Hollywood Princess Page 19