“Yes, I know we have school tomorrow – what are you doing in Santa Monica?”
“It’s a really, really, really loooong story, Jack,” she slurs. “We went to dinner with Cherie, and then Cherie was meeting up with Caz and some friends for an after party, so she invited us, and we said ok, and Danika drove, but we got lost, and then we found them at this beach house….” I lose focus on what she says as thoughts of Cherie and Caz Farrell together begin spinning rapidly through my mind like a CD on repeat. I’m disjointed from Chloe’s story until a high-pitched, hysterical whine yanks me from my thoughts.
“…butnowDanikawontbringushomeandshesaidyouwillhavetocomegetus!”
“Me? Why me?”
“I don’t know!” Chloe wails heavily on the other end.
I sigh into the phone and hold my head. “Just calm down, Chloe. Breathe. It’s going to be okay.” I’ve seen girls get drunk at parties before, and there’s always someone crying or someone screaming or someone acting slutty to get a guy’s attentions. I don’t have to wonder which drunk-girl cliché Cherie is filling, and it fans a deep flame in my gut.
I can hear Claudia sniffle quietly on the other end as she takes the phone and says, “Jack? Jack, are you going to come?”
Glaring at the clock, I shake my head. “Dammit Claudia – can’t you guys take a cab?”
“No way! It would cost, like, a hundred bucks! We’d have to pay by credit card, and then Daddy would find out when he gets the bill – Jack, he can’t know about this! He will kill us!” She sobs again.
Jim flashes through my mind. “How am I supposed to sneak out without your dad hearing me? He’s going to find out either way!”
“No, he won’t – not if you’re quiet!” I don’t doubt her; Jim has missed all of the late night events these past two weeks. Clearly, the guy could sleep through a shootout.
But not my mom. I could picture her up and watching those video cameras, just waiting for me to try to run off the way my father did.
“Jack, pleeeeaaase?! Please just try? These people are weird and the guys are staring at us and we just wanna come home!”
I want to tell her no, that she and her dumb sister deserve this for all of the evil things they’ve done in their lives. But all I can think is that this is Cherie’s doing, not theirs, and Danika is carrying out some sort of demonic plan her little boss concocted. Maybe Cherie did this to them on purpose to get back at them for outing us. Why else would she suddenly start hanging out with the two girls she can’t stand most in the world? They should have known better than to go to a party with a girl they double crossed and the woman who works for her.
And Cherie probably wants me to have to come get them because she wants me to see her with Caz.
But why Caz? Why did Cherie have to go that far and twist the knife deeper in me, too? How could she go chase Caz right after everything that’s happened between us?
Because she doesn’t care, stupid, I scold myself. You do, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t care about you, or the twins, or anyone but herself. It’s the Cherie Belle reality show, and we are just extras.
I picture my step-sisters, stranded in some Hollywood party full of creeps who are drunk or high or both. Do the twins deserve it? I don’t know. Will I kick myself if something bad happens to them and I could have stopped it? Definitely. As much as I would want Jim to have to deal with his stupid, irresponsible, and drunk daughters, I have an aggravating big brother instinct that needs to step up and take action.
I grit my teeth. “Ask someone the address and text it to me. I’m on my way.”
An hour later, after a few wrong turns and some cursing, I pull up to a row of massive beach houses. The twins race out of the front door of one of the nicer ones like they’ve never been happier to see someone in their lives.
“Jack!” Claudia cries out, and she throws herself into the seat beside me. They reek of booze.
“You guys owe me big,” I grumble, watching Chloe flop into the backseat. “Where’s Cherie?”
Chloe squeals, “Forget her, Jack. Just go.”
“Why? Where is she?” I demand.
“Really, Jack, it’s not worth it. She’s with Caz.” Claudia says softly, as if it hurts her to tell me.
Chloe is looser lipped. “She’s wasted! They were out on the balcony, and then all of a sudden he was carrying her upstairs!”
“What?” I thunder. “What the hell happened to Carl’s strict lockdown rules?”
“Chloe, shut up!” Claudia waves toward the windshield. “Don’t worry about Cherie. Just go. She’ll be fine.”
“No way; I’m not leaving her out here so he can take advantage of her!” I turn the car off and take the keys out of the ignition, just in case they get any ideas. “Stay in the car.”
I leave behind a flurry of screeching and pleading.
“No, Jack! Just leave her alone – she’ll be fine!”
“Jack, don’t go in there!”
“Jack – wait! Get back in the car! Please! That guy is coming!”
I probably should listen, but I’m too fixated on putting a stop to Caz Farrell’s little private party with Cherie. She may not want anything to do with me, she may even be trying to hurt me by hanging out with another guy, but I won’t let Caz do anything with Cherie if she isn’t thinking clearly. Mr. Heartthrob is way too old for her, plain and simple, and she is probably too drunk to stop him.
I walk in expecting a wild, glamorous party full of beautiful people and dance music. Instead, I get the image of every house party I’ve ever been to in Westchester, just fancier. The rooms are dimly lit and people sit around on expensive-looking leather couches. A massive TV is on in the middle of the farthest room, and the six or so people in front of it watch two people play a video game. I’m tempted to be disappointed in this so-called Hollywood after party, but I remind myself that it is 4 in the morning, and there may have been a much cooler scene hours earlier.
The smell of weed becomes overpowering as I walk closer to the living room, and I note the empty bottles of pricey liquor and champagne strewn about the kitchen.
One guy looks my way and acknowledges me with a head nod. “Sup?”
I’m about to ask him where I can find Cherie when I feel hands clamp down on my wrists and shoulders. I’m under attack, and I struggle to free myself, but it’s of no use.
“Get off of me!” I cry out, trying to wrench myself from the strong grips on my limbs. There are two massive brown-haired thugs holding me, and the kid who greeted me just watches with disinterest.
A girl steps out of the shadows of the farthest hallway, and it’s her signature smirk I recognize first.
“Danika, what the hell is going on?” I demand.
“Hey there, Jack. How good of you to come. We were worried the girls wouldn’t be able to lure you out here,” she murmurs.
“What?” I shake my head, unwilling to believe her, seething at the thought of the girls being in on this little prank. “What the hell are you talking about, Danika?”
“Oh, we have big plans, kiddo. A few of us want a little payback,” she says haughtily. My heartbeat quickens and I can’t breathe, sensing I’m in big trouble. A few of us? Who the hell is she talking about? Could the twins really be in on this?
“Where’s Cherie?” I demand.
“Hooking up with Caz, I’m sure,” she says slyly. “We gave her a little vodka, and he brought her upstairs. Once Derek shows up, we will get enough photos to buy her compliance for years to come.”
Rage explodes inside of my chest. “No! Cherie!” I writhe against the hold the thugs have on me until they twist one of my arms higher up my back, causing me to cry out.
Danika shakes her head to them. “It’s okay, let him go. He doesn’t scare me.”
The guys release me, and on instinct I whirl and push one back as hard as I can. His friend shoves me hard enough to make me fall. I scramble to get up just as Danika holds out her hand for them to stop.
“Tsk, tsk, Jack,” Danika murmurs, looking me over. “Such a temper. You’re a little out of your league here.”
“Go to hell, bitch,” I bark at her. “Cherie!” I shout again, turning toward the stairs. Danika’s goons stand in my path. I pivot in her direction and ask, “How could you? She’s just a kid – you’re an adult! She trusted you! How could you use her like this?”
“Use her?” Danika practically snarls at me. “She’s the one who uses others, Jack! You of all people should know this.”
“But she’s only sixteen years old! You’re ruining her life – don’t you care for her at all?”
Danika smirks at me. “Do you truly care, Jack? Or did you just care about getting close to a hot celebrity?”
I glare at her. “You know I tried to get her to get help!”
“Oh, yes, your little truth or dare game. Well, look how far that got you,” she sings with a chortle. “I wasn’t fired, and she didn’t get help. Looks like the joke was on you.”
“Fine, I get it, you’re mad about what I said about firing you – fine! Let them beat me up – you can do whatever you want to me! Just please don’t take it out on her!” I plead.
Danika just shakes her head. “Oh, sweetie, please. This isn’t about your petty little comments. Your bed buddy was planning on bailing on all of us soon because she wants a so-called normal life. But I’ve got bills to pay, and our little TV princess isn’t going to quit anytime soon.”
My jaw falls slack as I look from Danika to the stairs. “Wait…but…”
When she realizes I’m confused, she adds, “Cherie had already planned to fire me, Jack. She wants to quit the industry; she was going to let all of us go next month because she thinks she won’t need us. That would have been very bad for the people who make a lot of money from her. So we created a situation that will require all of her decisions be made by the right people and not your dumb family. Now that Carl is acquiring custody, Cherie won’t be pulling the plug on her career anytime soon.”
“Money? You’re dragging her through the mud and seeking custody for money?” My teeth grind together. “You call all of this off, now!”
She takes a step forward menacingly. “I don’t take my orders from you, or your parents, or Cherie. I take my orders from the top, because that is how I get paid.”
“The top?” I repeat, staring at her, trying to make sense of her words. “You mean her producers?”
“No, dummy, her manager. You know, Carl?” she sneers. “Nothing you see Cherie do or hear her say happens without him and Betsy carefully crafting it. Now that we’ve proven that your mother and stepfather were awful guardians, Carl will have custody of little orphan Cherie. Every decision will be up to him, including whether or not she continues acting.”
I feel my blood reenergized with a fresh fury. Carl is the one trying to keep Cherie in the news, the one place where she least needs to be, and for what? To sabotage my parents, who trusted all of them? So he can gain custody and keep the Cherie Belle money train chugging along?
“You can’t do this!” I step forward and warn, “I won’t let you.”
Danika shakes her head. “Jack, Jack, Jack…haven’t you learned anything about how it works out here? With the right connections and the right pictures, you can make anything happen, especially a few bad decisions by a good girl.”
Suddenly, the twins burst through the front door, searching the room wildly. “Jack!” Claudia cries, rushing to my side first. “Jack, we have to go!”
“Let’s go, Jack. She’ll find her way home in the morning,” Chloe commands, and she pulls hard on my shirt. I look down at her, and it’s like looking at a stranger. Her eyes are wide and fearful. Her lower lip trembles. Is there something she knows that I’m not realizing?
It doesn’t matter because I’m not moving. I’m a wall of fury, unwilling to move from this spot without Cherie.
I stare down at Danika and say, “So what did you drag me out here for, you sick bitch? Just to tell me all of this?”
“Jack…” Claudia’s tone is a warning, and her eyes are frightened, too. My senses are heightened, and I look around the room.
A hand grips my shoulder and I jerk out from under it, shoving both of the girls behind me.
Dominick “Striped-Shirt” Furst stares back at me with that familiar sneer and angry, narrowed eyes. I’m overcome briefly with the shock of coming face to face with my “victim,” as the gossip blogs have so aptly labeled him. The purple welt below one of his eyes glares at me. Gawking down at him, I marvel at the size of his bruise; the bruise I caused, delivered by my still aching fist almost a week ago. My flight or fight gears go into motion as I look from him to Danika’s goons to the stairs and weigh my options.
“Surprise, Jack!” Danika sings with a giggle. “I told you, a few of us still have a bone to pick with you.”
I glance over at her, my jaw clenching. They have me cornered, and she knows it, and now it all makes sense. I’ve been lured out here so she can watch me get jumped by a guy who’s itching to shed my blood.
The primal smell of danger is overpowering. There is no flight, only fight. I force myself to stand tall and snarl at Dominick, “Back off.”
But we don’t have to say anything more. I don’t even have to enact the plan that’s forming in my head, where I deliver a second knockout punch to the other side of the actor’s face and beat it to the door before either of the goons can jump in.
None of that happens because Caz appears on the top of the steps on cue, clearing his throat. He comes down, cool as a cucumber, rubbing his eyes as if he just woke up, oblivious to my presence. He looks disheveled and worn, and I can only think the worst took place between him and Cherie. I hate him with every fiber of my being.
Dominick snorts at me like a bull ready to charge. I feel one of the girls pull me backward a step, but I shake them off and plant my feet.
“Hey,” Caz mutters to his friend on the couch. “What’s going on?”
The guy gives him a wink and a fist bump. “Good night, my man?”
Caz grins and shakes his head at his friend. “Don’t be an ass,” he chuckles.
I wait for Cherie to follow him, but she doesn’t. Since my voice is trapped beneath layers of rage, Claudia thankfully asks, “Where’s Cherie?”
He finally looks up and meets my gaze, his eyes widening as if I startled him. “Hey, man. Jack, right?” There’s something mischievous in his grin.
I don’t smile. I give him the deadliest look I’ve ever given a person before. I can feel the heat pouring out of my eyes. “Where is Cherie?” I repeat, and Chloe nudges me in my side to not be such a jerk. Caz narrows his eyes at my tone.
“She’s passed out upstairs,” he tells me, his mouth a smug smile. “I have no use for her; she’s already lost her v-card apparently.”
Dominick snickers. My blood boils hotter and hotter. If he touched her, I’ll kill him.
“You’re gross,” Claudia hisses with disgust.
My instinct is to kill him – all of them. In my mind, there’s only one way he could know that kind of information.
My voice rises to a roar. “What did you do to her!?” I rush toward him, and Claudia and Chloe pull back on my arms to stop me. Danika’s goons shield him and keep me from getting too close.
“What did you do to her?” I demand again, my voice shaking.
Caz scoffs, “Nothing, asshole; Cherie’s crying and shit upstairs about losing her virginity to you – she’s a hot mess. She can’t handle her liquor.”
“Maybe she shouldn’t be drinking with twenty-five year olds, asshole,” I fire back, standing my ground.
He smirks and says, “What can I say? If she wanted to be playing on the jungle gym at home with you still, she would be.”
I take a menacing step toward him. “She will come home because I’m taking her, now.”
Dominick snickers, “Oh, you’re not going anywhere, kid.”
I glare at him
and the thugs still waiting behind him, my breath coming in shorter, shallower huffs as reality sets in and dread fills me. I’m likely not going anywhere; I’ll be lucky if I’m still alive in an hour.
I turn to the girls. “Get in the car,” I whisper, thrusting the keys in their hands and urgently pushing them toward the front door.
“You come, too,” Claudia whimpers, gripping my wrist.
“I will. I gotta go upstairs and get Cherie. I’ll be right there.” I sneak a glance at the others in the house and doubt my own words, and I’m a terrible liar.
Worst of all, Chloe knows it. “No, Jack – now!”
But I’ve already turned back to Caz and his friends, who have started to surround us. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to take Cherie home.”
“Shoulda thought about that before you came at me last week,” Dominick says, puffing his chest as he steps forward. He’s a few inches shorter than me, stocky and broad shouldered. He looks more like an Oompa Loompa than an actor. I almost want to laugh at him, but the collection of angry, scornful faces staring back at me makes my confidence tremble.
“We have some unfinished business to take care of,” he adds.
“No! Leave him alone!” Chloe shouts, getting between us. “We’ll call the cops!”
Caz glares down at Chloe and moves toward her. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Hey, stay away from her!” I yell, stepping between them. I swallow my fear for the girls and look back at them. “Go, Chloe. I’ll be fine. Please just go.” I push her behind me and look back at her twin, commanding with as much authority as I can muster, “Claudia, get her out of here.” I know I’m about to get jumped, especially once I try to go back upstairs for Cherie. I don’t need them seeing it or getting hurt, too.
Suddenly, I’m getting spun, and the ground disappears beneath my feet. I’m airborne, and I come crashing down hard on my face. Claudia screams. The tin taste of blood seeps into my mouth as the world spins. At first, I think I’ve only bitten my tongue, but it’s worse. The blood is coming from outside of my mouth and leaking past my lips. I try to get up.
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