Keatyn Unscripted (The Keatyn Chronicles Book 8)

by Jillian Dodd

  Cooper: He has her number. What did you send?

  Me: A photo I found of him from when he was doing the national search for the next Abby Johnston. I photoshopped the special effect of B’s head being blown off onto his head, put it in a picture frame, and boxed it up with some black rose petals.

  Cooper: And purposely didn’t tell me because I would have told you not to?

  Me: Really? No, I thought you’d love the idea. And I was going to ask your friend myself last night, but forgot with the excitement. I’d really like to know how he reacts.

  Cooper: I think it’s important we know how he reacts. I’ll call him later today.

  Me: Be sure to have him wait to text her until after it’s delivered.

  Cooper: Will do.

  Me: Have you heard anything from them? Like what he did last night?

  Cooper: He was furious about his car. Went home. Stayed there.

  Me: Thank goodness. I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.

  Vincent’s day is filled with meetings and calls to his investors, trying to get them to back out of their deals. He pleads, something he loathes to do.

  But the good news is, most of them agree.

  It’s looking possible that his company will continue with him at the helm, especially if his dinner goes well tonight.

  He goes to work out mid-afternoon and when he comes back, his assistant holds up a package. “This gift was delivered for you.”

  Vincent takes it into his office, an idea hitting him. The one piece of the script he hadn’t figured out every detail for comes into focus. He holds up the present and smiles.

  Oh, yes, this will be perfection.

  He hesitates before opening it, knowing his plan, but then shaking his head and realizing he’s being ridiculous.

  Inside the box are black petals, like the ones Keatyn threw at him last night. He slides the tissue out of the way and finds a photo.

  Of himself.

  With his head blown off, just like the ones he made of the whore’s husband and of Matt.

  That bitch.

  He lets out a strangled scream and hurls the photo against the wall, causing the glass to shatter and his assistant to bolt though the door to see what’s wrong.

  That same day, Damian asks Keatyn if she’s really ready to star in Twisted Dreams’ upcoming video.

  Me: If my name wasn’t listed anywhere, in theory, the people who know me as Keatyn Douglas, would know it’s me and wouldn’t be surprised since we’re friends. The people that know Keatyn Monroe, I’d just tell them that I did it. It’s not like anyone is going to talk about me that much, right?

  Damian: I think they will talk about you. But I think you’re right. And would it sort of fit into your plan of letting Vincent see you some? Are you planning more trips back home or to the club?

  Me: I don’t know yet. But probably. Let me think through it and I’ll let you know.

  Damian: So do you think Riley would be interested?

  Me: I think Riley would be thrilled.

  Damian: We got invited to play during the MTV New Year’s Eve party overlooking Times Square. I have a bunch of tickets that I could sort of repay you both with.

  Me: You don’t have to repay us, but the party sounds like fun. I’d love to.

  Damian: I heard you’re not coming to St. Croix for Christmas.

  Me: I can’t. I sort of lied myself into a corner. I told Aiden I have to be with my family. But I can’t actually be with my family. And I can’t think up a good reason why I wouldn’t go see them, since all I’ve done is complain about how much I miss them. I’m filming with Tommy and your dad next week, so I’ll get to see them. I’ll stay at my loft. Aiden bought me a tree. And you’ll all be back the next week!

  Damian: Still, it’s Christmas. I don’t want you to be alone.

  Me: I have to be, Damian. I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine. I promise.

  Keatyn has been packing up to leave school for Christmas break. She finds Cooper standing outside.

  “I just texted you,” he says. “My friend texted Vincent’s assistant. She said she couldn’t leave early. That her boss had just gotten a horrible threatening photo and had thrown it against the wall, then made her clean up all the glass.”

  “So he was mad. Then what did he do?”

  “Left his office and had dinner with two of his investors. Trying to hang onto his company.”

  “We need to plan what we’re going to do next. I’d like to go back next Thursday but with filming, I can’t.”

  “I think the company takeover stuff is enough for now. Your mom’s movie is still getting a ton of buzz. So, you’re going to the dance tonight, then going to a hotel with Aiden, then going to your loft on Sunday morning?”

  “Yeah, he’s staying with me until the twenty-third, then leaving for St. Croix with his family.”

  “And what are you going to do after that?”

  “Stay at my loft. Everyone thinks I’m going home. I won’t go out, so don’t worry about me.”

  “It’s my job to worry about you. What if you came home with me for Christmas? My parents would love it.”

  “Really, Cooper?” I blink away tears.

  “Yes, really. I don’t want you to be alone and I know you can’t go home.”

  “That would be nice. I’ll get to see Tommy but it just isn’t going to be the same.”

  “I know. Have fun at the dance tonight.”

  “Have fun chaperoning.”

  He rolls his eyes at me. “Yeah, right.”

  After months of covering up who she is, Keatyn’s world changes in an instant at Winter Formal. What she thought was a well-orchestrated plan of revenge against Vincent immediately in jeopardy.

  Because of Whitney.

  Well, really, because of herself. And although Vincent isn’t in this scene and never finds out where she is because of it, it’s only through her quick thinking and years of watching her mother deal with the press that he doesn’t.

  Whitney was only nice to us because she was planning to destroy Peyton the way Vanessa destroyed Mandy.

  Peyton is nothing like Mandy. She didn’t do anything mean and calculating. She was hurt and needed comfort when she turned to him.

  I look out into the crowd and see the boys’ soccer coach and remember how Whitney specifically asked him and his wife, who is now five months pregnant, to chaperone.

  She wants to destroy them both.

  Right here, in front of everyone.

  I can’t let it happen.

  I can’t let intimate sexual photos of an underage Peyton be flashed across a screen in front of the whole school.

  Not to mention what it would do to Coach Kline’s life and his wife’s.

  Just as Whitney is ready to start the slideshow, I move quickly, dropping Peyton’s hand and grabbing the remote out of Whitney’s.

  And it’s at that moment that I know what I have to do.

  Even though I shouldn’t.

  Even though it will ruin everything for me.

  I have to do this for my friend.

  I turn to a stunned Peyton. “Why don’t you take Whitney’s computer and put it somewhere safe? Photos aren’t necessary. I’ll tell everyone the truth.”

  Peyton gives me a confused look, then takes a shaky step, grabs the laptop, and walks offstage.

  I'm left with a crowd of students wondering what I lied about.

  Whitney opens her mouth in protest, so I take the microphone from her too.

  I notice a small group of reporters have moved in front of the stage.

  Not only was Whitney going to tell the school, she brought in the local press.

  I start telling every lie I've told since I got here.

  I look at Riley and confess. “My name isn't Keatyn Monroe.”

  Then I find Aiden’s eyes in the crowd. “I did recognize you as the goalie that day when you asked.”

  Then Dawson. “I didn’t leave my Mercedes at home because of
the snow.”

  Then Maggie and Annie. “My parents didn’t move to France or delete my social media. I didn’t get in trouble at home, and my photos didn’t get lost when I synced my new phone.”

  I speak directly to Annie. “I have seen every one of Abby Johnston’s movies. We do have the same mannerisms, and our voices are so similar even Tommy can’t tell them apart. And that’s because I'm her daughter.”

  Cameras start flashing, so I hold my hand strategically in front of my face.

  “I came here because . . .”

  I want to tell them why. But I realize I can’t.

  Not yet.

  I can’t put them in danger.

  I won’t.

  I know that I don’t have until March with Aiden anymore.

  That his time bomb app just went off.

  My biggest problem is the reporters, not my friends.

  Because if they announce that I’m here, Vincent will come.

  And I can’t do that to Eastbrooke.

  To the place I love so much.

  I’ve been stalked and kissed and dated and loved, but now I can see it clearly on their faces.

  Hate.

  I hear the big metal doors behind me close and know that Peyton has made it safely out of the ballroom with the laptop.

  I hate to do it, but I need to tell my friends one more lie.

  Just one more lie.

  And in order to do it, I’m going to have to give the performance of my life.

  But I’ll do it because I love them.

  I stand up straighter, jut my chin out, and become the cold, uncaring bitch who takes whatever she wants from whomever she wants because she thinks she’s entitled to it.

  I peek through my fingers, finding Aiden.

  He’s the one I have to convince more than anyone.

  I smirk, looking at him like he’s a piece of trash, not worthy of my time, then shrug. “I came to Eastbrooke because I wanted to see if I could act. To see if I could pretend to be someone else. I lied because . . . Well, because I could. Because I’m a good actress.”

  Aiden darts off the dance floor.

  I turn around, my eyes following him.

  Wanting to talk to him.

  To tell him I’m sorry.

  To tell him this isn’t how I wanted him to find out.

  My hand reaches out toward him.

  He shakes his head at me, puts his hand up in the halt position, pushes his back against the exit door, and walks straight out of my life.

  Tears spring to my eyes as Whitney grabs my elbow, pulling me close to her.

  “Very slick,” she says. “And very interesting. But don’t worry, I have backups of the photos. Peyton’s not getting out of this.”

  I hold my head high, still in bitch mode. “Yeah, she is. Because it just so happens, I have a few photos of my own.”

  I reach down, take my phone out of my clutch, click a few buttons, and send her the photo where she’s lying across Coach Steele’s desk.

  When the picture pops up, the smug look slides off her face.

  I wrench my arm away from her.

  “If you ever try to hurt Peyton or any one of my friends again. If any of those photos ever show up anywhere, I will show these photos to the whole school. I’ll tell them how you couldn’t get Camden by sleeping with him, so you settled for his brother. I’ll tell them that your relationship was a sham.”

  “What do I care? I’m going to college.”

  I give her a smug, bitchy smile. “Because I’ll also send them to every Ivy League school you applied to. Camden kept everything. And there are hundreds of pictures and screenshots for me to choose from. I could release one a week for the rest of your life. If you wait until we’re older, then I’ll send them to your boss. Your parents. Your friends. Your husband. Because you can bet on this. If those photos ever see the light of day, I will destroy you.”

  For the first time since I’ve known her, Whitney looks scared.

  She nods at me in understanding, puts her head down, and slinks off the stage.

  Still shielding my face, I head off the stage toward Cooper.

  I can tell he’s pissed.

  “What the fuck was that? What the hell were you thinking? There are reporters here. We’ve got to get you out of here now.”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “I said no, Cooper. I’m not going anywhere. Help me out by rounding up those reporters. I need to talk to them.”

  As he goes off to speak to the reporters, Annie walks up to me and says, “I thought you were different. You made me believe that nice girls could be popular. I’ve mentioned your resemblance to Abby Johnston quite a few times. We saw her in New York! It would’ve been so easy for you to tell me the truth. Which means it was all just a mean game to you.” She grabs Katie and pulls her into the conversation. “Katie and I are in agreement on this. We’re not friends anymore. Although I doubt we ever were.”

  Her and Katie march away as I recoil slightly.

  I wasn’t expecting that from them.

  I want to go after them and say I’m sorry.

  But I can’t.

  I turn around and stare at the door Aiden just walked out of.

  I want to chase him.

  Beg him for forgiveness.

  Tell him the rest of the truth.

  But as I see Cooper and the dean herding the reporters into a room, I know that I can’t do that either.

  I remember Grandpa once telling me, Sometimes you can’t find yourself until you’re lost.

  I thought it was just another silly Southern saying.

  But I get it now.

  I was lost.

  And, somehow, throughout this whole ordeal, I found myself.

  I know exactly who I am.

  And if Aiden is the boy of my dreams . . .

  If he really is my moon boy . . .

  My fate.

  Then he’ll understand.

  Someday.

  I try to rid my mind of Aiden and focus on the task at hand.

  Keeping Eastbrooke safe from Vincent.

  I walk toward the room where Cooper and the dean have corralled the press.

  As I get to the door, they’re both walking out.

  Cooper speaks to the dean in rapid-fire fashion. “She lied because she’s being stalked. I’m her bodyguard. We cannot let this get out on social media or Eastbrooke itself will be in danger.” Cooper points to some students on the dance floor who are on their phones.

  “I can handle the students,” the dean says. “What I can’t control is the press.”

  “I’ll handle them,” I say confidently.

  The dean walks onto the stage and takes the microphone. “All right. Everyone listen up. Take out your phones. Excellent. I'd like you to delete any photos you took of Keatyn. If any of you posted about her, Abby Johnston, Eastbrooke, or what just transpired, I'd like you to delete it immediately from any and all social networks. At Eastbrooke, we pride ourselves on our students’ security and privacy. Each and every one of you knows security, excellence, leadership, and a sense of community is what keeps Eastbrooke strong. As is always our policy, we will be monitoring your social media to make sure you are showing yourself and our school in the best light. Anyone who publicly speaks of this will face detention and possible expulsion. Do I make myself clear?”

  Cooper says to me, “One down, one to go. You ready?”

  “I need to make a quick phone call first. While I do, could you find me some paper?”

  He grabs a large decorative snowflake off the wall. “Will this work?”

  I can’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, that will work.” Then I call Damian.

  “I heard what you did for Peyton,” he says immediately. “Thank you.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Because of you, yes. But she’s a wreck. I’m headed to the airport now.”

  “I have a favor.”

  “Anything. You know that.”

>   “I’m about to talk to the local press. In order to keep them quiet about me being at Eastbrooke, I need to give them a bigger story.”

  “Bait and switch. Hollywood does it all the time.”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have a bigger story to offer.”

  “But I do. That’s why you called me.”

  “You’re right. Damian Moran’s date in New York City with his new girlfriend would do the trick. But we’d have to fix Peyton’s social media first so Vincent can’t connect her to me.”

  “Of course. We’ll do whatever you need. It’s the least we can do.”

  “Aiden walked out when he heard the truth about my mom.”

  “You told everyone the truth? Peyton was sobbing, so it was hard to follow exactly what happened. She just kept saying you saved her.”

  “I told them who my mom is, but I didn’t tell them the truth about why I lied. I told them it was because I wanted to prove I could act.”

  “Why didn’t you tell them about the stalker?”

  “Because there are people here who would call Vincent themselves if they knew the real story. I have to protect my friends. Protect Eastbrooke.”

  “You should be protecting yourself.”

  “That’s next on the list. Okay, I have to go.”

  “Let’s meet tomorrow to discuss.”

  “Damian?”

  “What?”

  “Thanks for always being my friend.”