by Love, Amy
“Blue!” Jamie said hopping out of bed and embracing him in a hug.
“Hey,” Blue said, hugging her back. “Don’t get too excited, I’m not here to rescue you yet.”
Jamie pulled away and looked up at him with a smile. “It’s still nice to see a friendly face,” she said. “Welcome to my hellhole,” she continued waving her arm and showing off her scant quarters. “It’s horrible, take a seat. I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve been stuck in this room with nothing to do and no one to talk to. I was worried I was about to go crazy.”
“You’ve been in here the whole time?” Blue asked.
“I get to go to the bathroom three times a day and yesterday they moved me for some reason. It was awful. I think there was a fight here. I could hear all these men screaming and these other men hitting each other. It sounded barbaric. I’m sorry!” she said quickly as she saw Blue’s face, “but, then again, I guess you’re used to it now...”
“Yeah, still isn’t any fun for me, though.”
“Because you’re a good person and not a monster,” Jamie said with a wan smile. “Blue, I’m so sorry you have to do this. I wish there was some way you didn’t have to fight...”
Blue shrugged and said nothing. There was nothing to do. His father had won and now if Blue wanted a future with Chelsea, if he didn’t want to see an innocent woman die, then he would have to fight.
“How’s Chelsea?” Jamie asked.
“Horrible,” Blue answered. “She felt so guilty over what happened. She’s been crying for days. And then someone tried to grab her, too.”
“What?” Jamie demanded.
“We were in the house when that guy from the party, Jimmy, snuck in and tried to grab her. But I managed to fend him off. She’s safe, for the moment anyway. But she’s a wreck without you, Jamie.”
“I’m sure having you around helps.”
Blue scoffed and ran his hands through his hair. He suddenly wished the room were bigger and he had space to move around.
“What?” Jamie demanded. “I saw the way the two of you looked at each other. All through high school she had such a crush on you. I kept telling her to go for it, but she was waiting for you to make the first move. You two are good together, you belong together.”
“Me and ‘pop star’ Chelsea Riley?” Blue scoffed. “I’m more likely to be her pool guy than her boyfriend.”
“Are you kidding me? She is nuts about you and I know you’re nuts about her. And now that Chelsea’s broken up Terrance and Colleen, there’s nothing separating you two.”
“She broke them up?” Blue asked.
“Yeah, Colleen is out of the house. So no more of this stepsibling nonsense. You’re just two attractive adults and nothing should be keeping you apart.”
“Except for all of this,” Blue said, looking around Jamie’s cell. “This is my life; how can I bring her into that? Look what’s happened already.”
“That’s your father, Blue. Not you. Your father is a jerk and a monster; you’re a good guy. Your dad’s reach is only in Snowbird. Once we’re gone he won’t be able to reach us.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“Don’t be so defeatist. You and Chelsea belong together; I can see how in love you both are. Stop fighting it. She’s a big girl now, Blue. She can share some of the burden with you.”
“I don’t want to have to give her any burden.”
“We all come with baggage. It’s just that your baggage is insane and violent, but Chelsea loves you and she wants to be with you and to help you. Besides, she has baggage, too. You said it yourself: she’s pop star Chelsea Riley now. You think that’s going to be easy for her? Already the gossip rags are looking for something to write about when it comes to my sister. She’s going to need someone she can rely on to deal with what’s about to happen and that person should be you.”
Blue shook his head. He had never had any sisters and no female friends, other than Chelsea. Guys didn’t talk like this, they didn’t talk about needing someone or being good for someone, they didn’t talk about relationships at all. But here was Jamie saying all the things Blue was feeling.
“I’m sorry,” Jamie said, shaking her head. “But I love my sister and I’ve been trapped in this tiny room for days, so I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and now I have lot to say.”
“What if I mess up her career? What if I say something dumb, or her fans don’t like me? I don’t want to ruin this for her.”
“You won’t ruin it, just keep it private. Your relationship with Chelsea is between the two of you and no one else. As long as you love each other and are honest with each other, everything will work out.”
“If I survive the fight,” Blue said with a scoff.
“Don’t even joke about that, Blue. How could I ever look my sister in the eye if you died saving me?”
“It’s not you, it’s Terrance. This is what he does. He doesn’t experience any emotions other than greed, so he does this instead. He gets people all wrapped up in his games and gets them to blame each other until they forget that he’s the man pulling the strings. If something happens, don’t let Chelsea take it out on you. It’s all on Terrace.”
Jamie opened her mouth and started to speak, and then she closed it and looked away.
“What?” Blue asked. “What were you going to say?”
“I was going to ask why you had never beaten up your father before. You’re certainly stronger.”
“Because he’s my father. I might want to, but it wouldn’t solve anything. Terrance is a bastard and hitting him isn’t going to change that. I never did in the past because I was dependent on him. I don’t now because I need to stay on his good side as best I can. He’s betting on me, which means it’s in his best interest to keep me alive and happy. If I piss him off he might root for the other guy and actively work against me. As terrible as it is to say, I would rather have him in my corner than working against me.”
“He really is a bastard,” Jamie said with a shake of her head.
Chapter Thirty Nine
When Colleen and Chelsea had fled Terrance’s house they had taken as much as they could carry. They had managed to grab Colleen’s clothes, jewelry, cosmetics, laptop, and whatever else would fit into the car. But a lot had been left behind. Standing in the remnants of her childhood home Chelsea dropped a box on the kitchen table and looked around. Even though she and Blue had been crashing here the last few days, she still felt like a squatter.
The house needed to feel like a home again. She had grown up in that house, learned the guitar and piano (keyboard, actually, they couldn’t afford a piano) and this was where she had spent a lot of time with Blue. So while her mother locked herself away in her bedroom, Chelsea got to work.
She started by dusting and vacuuming the living room, even going as far as picking up the couch and cleaning between the couch cushions. Then she started unpacking. There were boxes stacked everywhere and Chelsea started with the one titled: knick-knacks and mementos. She dusted off old pictures of her and her sister. There were pictures of them smiling in front of Grand Canyon and laughing with Goofy on their Disneyland trip when Chelsea was fourteen. She was all bad hair, braces, and awkward angles in those old pictures; it made her smile.
She hung the pictures back on the wall and replaced the knick-knacks on the shelves. She found and rehung her mother’s floral curtains. Chelsea looked at the unpacked living room and smiled. It looked like people lived here again; it looked like home and, more importantly, it felt like home.
But unpacking her childhood home also made her unpack so many memories she thought she had put away. She remembered a time when Blue had been tutoring her in Algebra. They had been sitting on the living room couch with MTV playing TRL in the background. They had been sitting together, but not touching. Chelsea had ignored all of Blue’s tips for faster math problem solving and was instead focused on their almost touching knees. They were so close back then, hanging out every day and telling
each other everything, but nothing physical had ever happened between them.
Chelsea moved on to the kitchen, putting the glasses and plates back into the cabinets and the silverware back in the drawers. She cleaned off the table and the countertop until finally the main part of the house was back in order. She looked over the house and couldn’t help but smile, every inch having some memory attached to it.
There was the height chart on the wall in the kitchen that measured her and Jamie’s growth. There was the large dent in the wall near the kitchen table from the time Jamie had tried to perform a skateboard trick only to find herself falling into the wall. She and Blue had done their homework on that table every day after school.
Chelsea had just finished putting away her cleaning supplies when her phone rang. She groaned when she saw it was her manager, but she forced herself to answer it anyway. “Hello,” she sighed into the phone.
“Hey Chels, it’s me,” Lauren replied. “What’s the deal with your family emergency? Where are we on that?”
“I’m still working on it,” Chelsea said. “Nothing has changed since the last time we talked.” She tried to keep her annoyance out of her voice. “I just need a few more days to sort it all out. But it will be over very soon, Lauren, and then I’ll be back and hard at work.”
“Sweetie, you and I have very different ideas of soon. My idea of soon is you leaving your hicktown, getting on a plane, and coming straight to my office. If you did that you could be here in four hours; that is soon to me. Soon to you is a couple of days, but this isn’t the first time you’ve said that to me. You’ve been saying a couple of days for more than a couple of days.”
“Like I said, Lauren, it’s an emergency. Believe me, I would love nothing more than to have this all be over with. I would love to get on a plane and go back to LA right now, but it’s not that simple. There’s a lot that’s not under my control right now.”
“Well, here’s the thing: there’s a lot I don’t have control over, as well. The label is pissed, Chelsea. They want you to come back to work. They need you to come back to work. We’ve reshuffled some promotional stuff, but they aren’t happy about it and the longer you stay away the more worried they get. They haven’t signed a deal for your next album yet and if things keep going like this, they might not.”
Chelsea closed her eyes and sighed. She had the sudden urge to tell Lauren everything that had happened – her sister’s kidnapping, the fighting pits; then she would ask Lauren how she would handle it. Chelsea didn’t know how else to explain to her manager that she was doing everything she could possibly do. “I want them to sign me for a second album,” Chelsea said forcing her voice to remain calm. “I am ready to work and I will be back soon. I’ll just asking for a little bit of time and some understanding. I am not a robot. I’m a person under a lot of pressure. Being a singer is my dream and I’m willing to fight for it, but I’m not willing to abandon my family over it. But I need you to have my back, Lauren. I will be back soon, I promise. I just need you to keep the label off my back for a few more days.”
“I like you, Chelsea, and I’ll do what I can. But you need to realize that every day you spend in Snowbird is another reason for the label to not sign with you. You skipping town like this makes you look kind of flakey, like you can’t handle this.”
The call ended and Chelsea scoffed at the implication that she couldn’t handle a record deal. It was nothing compared to what she’d been dealing with at home. After fighting pits and the horrors of Terrance DeMarco, Chelsea was confident she could handle just about anything.
She didn’t want to handle it alone, though. It was hard not having a friend she could really trust. She knew a lot of people in LA, but they were all party friends. They were social climbers and none of them could really be trusted. They would have thrown Chelsea under a bus if they thought they could get a reality show from it.
She needed a source of strength in her life; she needed Blue – Blue with his disdain for the LA scene and general apathy towards the Hollywood machine. Blue didn’t want to be famous; he wanted to be an engineer and she liked that about him. She liked the idea of the boyfriend who could actually fix a broken outlet instead of calling someone else to do it. She liked the idea of a boyfriend who would defend her to the paparazzi like Blue did the other day. He hadn’t hit them or verbally abused them. He had simply told them to back off and they had.
Blue had a commanding presence, people got of out of his way, they did what he told them to do. He had been in the Army and now he was going to college. Blue Demarco was no child anymore; he was a man now.
Then there was nothing left for Chelsea to do. The house was clean and unpacked. She walked to the bedroom and knocked quietly on the door. She waited a few moments, but there was no noise on the other side. Chelsea opened the door and peered inside where she could see her mother fast asleep in bed, a half empty box of tissues next to her.
Was this all that love would get you: a bed alone filled with tears and discarded tissue? No, Chelsea couldn’t believe that. Her mother had put her faith in the wrong man, a mistake she had made many times. Chelsea closed the door and left her mother in peace. Colleen would bounce back, she always did. There was a routine after every breakup. Colleen would spend a few days in bed and then one day Chelsea and Jamie would come home from school to find their mother dancing in the living room, her man troubles forgotten.
But this nastiness with Terrance was no normal guy trouble. It was illegal and dangerous and Blue was wrapped up in it. Did that make him dangerous? In a way, but it wasn’t his fault. Blue didn’t want to fight in the pits, his father made him. Blue was nothing like his father and once Chelsea had him back she was going to tell him that every day.
Chapter Forty
A new day dawned, but Colleen refused to leave her bed. Chelsea brought her coffee and toast but her mother was interested in neither.
“I’m a horrible mother,” she said as Chelsea sat on the edge of the bed.
“No you aren’t,” Chelsea said firmly. This felt like the hundredth time she and her mother were having this conversation, but nothing Chelsea said seemed to help. “You were lied to by an expert liar. It’s not your fault that he tricked you and it doesn’t make you a bad mother. It makes you just as much a victim as-”
“Don’t say Jamie,” her mother interrupted. “My poor baby. She’s been gone so long and we can’t do anything to help her.”
“It’s okay, Mom,” Chelsea said as she straightened the blankets around her mother’s bed. Then the doorbell rang, “I’ll get it, don’t worry, Mom. Just stay here and get some rest.”
“If it’s Terrance don’t you open that door! Do you understand?” Colleen demanded.
“Yes, I understand,” Chelsea said. She walked to the door and pressed her eye against the peephole. But it wasn’t Terrance; it was Paul and there was a woman with him. “Hi,” Chelsea said opening the door.
“Hi Chelsea,” Paul said, “You remember I mentioned an old friend I went to school with who joined the FBI? Well I called her and she introduced me to Special Agent Morrison with the FBI,” he extended his arm to the tall woman next to him. She had a thick head of curly red hair and a sturdy build.
“Nice to meet you, Chelsea. You can call me Molly,” she said extending her hand. Chelsea reached out and felt Molly’s firm and confident grip as they shook hands over the threshold.
“Please, come in,” Chelsea said as she opened the door wide enough for all of them to pass. “I’m sorry, but my mom isn’t feeling well, so I would appreciate it if we could keep things quiet.”
“Of course,” Paul and Molly agreed at the same time as they sat down next to each other on the couch.
Chelsea took the other chair in the living room and watched as Molly pulled a recording device and a notepad and pen from her bag. “Paul has filled me on what he knows, but I’m hoping you might have some more answers,” Molly said. Her voice was strong and confident and Chelsea couldn�
��t help but feel a little bit safer with her in the house. It was nice to have someone on her side who could arrest someone and had a gun.
“I don’t know that much, but I do have some evidence,” Chelsea said. “I recorded a conversation on my phone between me and Terrance DeMarco; he talks about the fighting pits and kidnapping my sister.” Chelsea played the recording while Molly recorded it and took notes.
“Have you spoken to your sister during this time?” Molly asked.
“Yes, on the phone. She sounded scared, but all right,” Chelsea answered.
“I don’t like not telling my superiors that a person has been kidnapped, but I agree with Paul that local law enforcement cannot be trusted. I am part of a task force in this area that deals with underground fighting groups. We’ve heard rumors of them in this section of Idaho before, but yours in the first solid lead I’ve come across. I would rather wait until we have the detail of the location to move against Terrance DeMarco.”