Come Undone: Romance Stories Inspired by the Music of Duran Duran

by Kim Carmichael

  Suddenly, she grew dizzy and struggled to keep from seeing double.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Bitsy asked, studying her.

  “Yeah, just a little lightheaded…and dizzy. Guess I should have eaten something more substantial than a couple pieces of leftover pizza this morning.” She wiped at the beads of sweat forming on her brow.

  “You look terrible, Sophie. Let me take care of the bill and get you home.”

  Sophie’s trembling hands clutched her cell phone. She stared at the screen and, through blurry vision, searched for the Contacts option. “Can you call Greg for me?” She offered Bitsy her phone. “His number is under Contacts.”

  “Instead of worrying him needlessly, how about we wait to call him after I get you home safely?”

  “I suppose…” Sophie dropped her cell into her tote. She wanted Greg, but she needed to get home and couldn’t wait to be picked up. “He must have gotten tied up at work. Thank you for helping me.”

  “No problem. That’s what friends are for.”

  “Is something the matter?” Sophie couldn’t make out the waitress’s face, but recognized the voice.

  “My friend isn’t feeling well.” Bitsy asked for the check.

  Dizziness was subsiding, but Sophie was anxious to get to her own place and crawl into her own bed.

  While Bitsy waited for the bill, she handed Sophie a glass of ice water. “Here you go. Drink this.”

  Sophie lifted the glass to her mouth and took a healthy gulp. “Thank you.” The room stopped spinning, but she was still lightheaded. “I didn’t realize how thirsty I was. Or how tired. Or how hard that Mimosas hit me.” She drained her glass, then stood, readying herself to leave.

  Her head began spinning again. She rested her palms on the table and eased back into her chair. She held her hand over her forehead.

  The waitress dropped the bill folder on the table and turned to leave.

  Bitsy handed the bill back to the waitress, along with a credit card.

  Sophie’s stomach churned. Was she coming down with the flu? It wasn’t food poisoning. She’d eaten bad food before and became violently ill. No, this was different. What the hell was wrong with her?

  The waitress returned with the credit card, and waited while Bitsy signed the bill. She glanced at the total and said, “Wow. Thank you.”

  “You deserved it. The service was excellent.” She strode over to Sophie’s chair and held out her hand to help Sophie stand. “Now,” she said, with concern sounding in her voice. “Let’s get you home.”

  Chapter Ten

  GREG HADN’T HEARD FROM Sophie in nearly three hours. He’d tried calling her back after her text message, but she didn’t reply. Now, when he dialed her number, his call went straight to her voice mail. It wasn’t like her to not pick up the phone when he called…if not only to let him know she wasn’t ready to leave yet.

  A sickening feeling in his gut told him something was wrong, prompting him not to wait for her call, but to go to the restaurant to check on her personally.

  He locked up his desk and, instead of taking the elevator, ran down three flights of stairs to the garage.

  He drove past the restaurant and scanned the patio, hoping to catch a glimpse of her outside. Except for an elderly couple, the patio was empty. He grumbled at the prospect of having to find a parking space in the crowded lot behind the restaurant.

  He found a space near the side door and parked his car. He entered the restaurant from the side entrance and scanned the faces of the patrons. No Sophie. He didn’t know whether to be pissed or concerned.

  He asked the hostess if she’d seen Sophie.

  “She and her friend left …maybe a couple hours ago.”

  That wasn’t the answer he’d expected or wanted to hear. “They did?”

  “One of them wasn’t feeling well and needed to be helped outside.”

  His chest tightened. Sophie. “The sick one. Was she tall, with dark blonde hair? And was she wearing tan pants and a black top?”

  “That sounds about right. Do you know her?”

  “Could I speak with her waitress?” Sophie wouldn’t have left with someone without calling to tell him not to pick her up.

  The hostess called over the waitress, who verified that Sophie had gotten sick and had to be helped outside by a friend.

  “Did you catch the name of her friend? The one she left with?”

  “Her name was Bitsy. I remember because it was so…different. I’d never met anyone with that name before.”

  “Did they mention where they were going?”

  “I think I heard Bitsy say something about taking her home.”

  Greg thanked them and raced to the parking lot. He had to get to Sophie. Something didn’t smell right. When he’d dropped her off at the restaurant, she was perfectly fine. If she had food poisoning, she would have headed to an emergency room, not her condo.

  He broke every speed limit on the way to Sophie’s. After parking in front of her building, he ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and rang the doorbell. When there was no response, he pounded on the door, still nothing. His hands shook as he fingered his key ring, searching for the key to her front door. He found the correct key and let himself in.

  “Sophie? It’s me. Where are you?”

  Silence.

  “Sophie?” Frantic, his heart raced as he searched every room for any sign of Sophie. Her condo was empty. What the fuck? Why did the waitress say someone was taking Sophie home? His blood chilled. Her home. Bitsy’s home. Not Sophie’s. Dear God, no! But where did Bitsy live?

  He pulled his cell from his pocket and tried calling Sophie again. Still no answer. He was forced to do what he should have done a long time ago. He called his contact at LAPD.

  “Tony, it’s Greg. Sophie’s—” His voice broke. “I think something’s happened to Sophie.” He told him about the restaurant, her being ill, and leaving with someone named Bitsy.

  “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right over.”

  He gave him Sophie’s address. While he waited for Tony, he called local hospitals and checked if someone named Sophie Greene had been taken to one of their emergency rooms.

  He struck out. No one had heard of Sophie. He ran his fingers through his hair.

  “Oh, God, Sophie, where are you?”

  Chapter Eleven

  SOPHIE’S EYES POPPED OPEN. Where was she? An icy sensation fell upon her. Her body trembled. She was in a strange bed. How did she get here? She tried crying out, but her throat was dry, strangling her words. Her fuzzy brain tried replaying the events that brought her to a room she didn’t recognize.

  “Time to wake up, Serena,” a familiar voice said.

  Sophie tried blinking away the fog that dimmed her vision, trying to make out the facial features of the person standing at the foot of the bed.

  “Who are you?” Through blurred eyes, Sophie studied the face. Soon, the face came into focus. “Bitsy? Why?”

  “Bitsy doesn’t live here anymore. My name is Brenna.”

  “Please, Bitsy—”

  “Brenna,” she corrected. “I like Brenna better.”

  Sophie realized there was no reasoning with her. How could she explain that Serena and Brenna were characters, not real people?

  “How did I get here?”

  “You passed out in my car on your way to your place. I couldn’t leave you all alone in such a state, so I brought you home…with me.”

  “I need to call Greg.”

  “Later. First, I want to make sure you’re feeling better. You wouldn’t want to upset him, would you? He needs to know that I’ve taken care of everything.” Bitsy’s voice was calm, unwavering.

  “Taken care of everything?” What did that mean?

  “Greg’s no good for you, Serena. He’s holding you back. He was the one who made you quit the group, wasn’t he? Well, you deserve better than him. You deserve someone who understands you, supports you. Loves you.” Her voice softene
d.

  “Greg does love me. We’re trying to work out our differences.” She had to get out of here. Sophie tried sitting, but her movements were clumsy, uncoordinated. “I can’t move. What have you done to me?”

  “Be right back. I have a surprise for you,” she announced before leaving the room.

  Sophie scanned her surroundings. She was lying in the middle of a king-size bed. Fully clothed, but her shoes were off. Across the room, a camera was set up on a tripod. Her stomach somersaulted when she realized what Bitsy was going to do—or had already done.

  She had to get away. She struggled to push herself up, but her arms wouldn’t cooperate. Greg. She had to call him. But her cell was in her tote, which was nowhere in sight.

  Filling the wall to her right were posters of Serena, and blown up photographs of Sophie in her apartment. Some included Greg kissing her. In the corner, a life-size figure of Serena, sword in hand, stood guard.

  Bitsy returned. She’d changed into her Pep Squad Girl costume. She stopped behind the camera and turned it on. Fixing her gaze on Sophie, she said slowly, “Serena’s Seduction, Take One.”

  Because Bitsy was about to film a seduction scene, Sophie pleaded, “No. Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.” Her voice grew ragged, nearly unrecognizable. She had to stop her. With a sudden surge of adrenaline, Sophie scooted up to the headboard and drew her knees to her chest.

  Bitsy giggled maniacally. “Why are you fighting me, Serena? You’ve kissed me before. You even told me you loved me.”

  “In a movie. Not in real life. I love Greg.”

  “Greg,” Bitsy spat his name with disdain. “He’s a self-centered, vain, ambitious, fucked up prick.” She loosened the laces on her bustier and exposed her breasts. She slinked toward the bed.

  Sophie managed to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Her stomach roiled. Still lightheaded, she tried pushing herself to stand. Dizziness overwhelmed her, causing her to sit back down. She clutched her head.

  “Don’t fight it, Serena, stay with me. Let me love you like you said you loved me.” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You do love me, don’t you?” she asked, her voice lowering an octave.

  “Of course, I love you. I love all of the Pep Squad Girls, but not in the way you want. We’ll always be close, but if you do this, I can’t even be your friend.” Sophie tried playing on Bitsy’s need for her friendship—hoping she’d be able to reason with her.

  Bitsy sat next to her. She threaded her fingers through Sophie’s hair and pushed loose strands away from her face.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I love you, Serena,” she whispered, “I truly do.” She kissed Sophie on the lips.

  Sophie wiped her mouth, trying to erase any trace of her kiss. “I have a boyfriend. I’m not into girls.”

  “What about all the times you kissed women? The times you kissed me?”

  “It was a job, nothing more. I like men.” Suddenly sober, she added, “I’m sorry. Truly I am. I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression or lead you on. Please take me home.”

  “Don’t you want this to be your home?” The wounded expression on her face told Sophie that she wasn’t going to give up without a fight. Or let her leave. Bitsy’s body stiffened. “You hate me now, don’t you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

  “I won’t let you leave until you forgive me. I couldn’t stand it if you hated me.”

  “I don’t hate you.” Suddenly, Sophie realized that Bitsy wasn’t going to let her leave. She was a prisoner. How could she escape? She’d been clueless that Bitsy had a crush on her. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have led you on.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have. You let me love you.” Her voice broke.

  “I’m sorry you felt that way.”

  “But I thought we had a connection. Couldn’t you feel it?”

  “Ever since we were in junior high, we’re like family—you and all of the girls. But I don’t love one more than the others, and not any of you in that way.” How was she going to escape? Realizing that any misstep or wrong word could turn a sticky situation into disaster, she kept herself calm, even though her stomach churned and her heart raced.

  “Greg doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t appreciate you like I do. He’s a dream crusher. He won’t let you follow your dreams like I would.” She brushed her fingertips along Sophie’s cheek. “You’re so beautiful, Serena. Does Greg ever tell you that you’re beautiful?” A melancholy tone sounded in her voice. “You could be a big star, Serena. Get rid of him. He’s holding you back.”

  Sophie’s cell phone rang. She searched the room for her large, red tote. When she spotted the bag on the other side of the nightstand, she reached for it, and fell off the bed.

  Bitsy stepped on Sophie’s hand, keeping her from answering the call. She cried out in pain.

  She lifted her foot and kicked Sophie’s tote across the room. Sophie sat on the floor. Tears welled. She held her emotions intact, afraid if she let one tear fall, it would open a floodgate.

  Bitsy leaned over until they were face to face and brushed her fingertips across Sophie’s lips. Sophie clenched her jaw. When had she become this psycho’s obsession? Why hadn’t she seen the signs?

  “Why don’t you love me, Serena?”

  This was a fight or flight situation. Her cell phone rang again. Sophie’s gaze darted to the tote. Bitsy leaned down to kiss Sophie.

  “Get the fuck away from me.” Sophie pushed her away. Whatever was put in her drink had made her slow, sluggish, allowing Bitsy to overtake her. Groggy or not, she had to fight.

  Sophie pushed herself up and punched Bitsy in the jaw. She pulled her hair, yanking her head back. Bitsy cried out, jerked away. She charged Sophie and pinned her against the closet door. Sophie head-butted her and screamed, hoping the neighbors would hear and call the police.

  The scream spurred Bitsy into action. She punched Sophie in the jaw, knocking her down. Sophie got back up and pulled her hair, but Bitsy reached for the lamp on the nightstand and hit Sophie over the head. She saw stars and screamed. Warm liquid trickled down her face. She wiped the liquid away from her eyes and looked at her hand. It was covered with blood. Then everything went dark.

  Chapter Twelve

  GREG STARED AT THE random slips of paper scattered about her computer station. Business cards were tacked to a small bulletin board on the wall next to her monitor. As he scanned the bulletin board, he hoped something might jump out at him—a familiar name or number. Anything that would lead him to Sophie.

  There was a knock at the front door.

  “It’s me, Tony.”

  “Just a sec.” Greg opened the door. “Thanks for coming over. I’m going nuts not knowing where she is. First the stalker, now this. Somehow, I know it’s all connected.” His eyes misted. “My girl’s in trouble, Tony.” His voice broke.

  “You don’t know that for sure. She might have decided to leave with a friend willingly.”

  “She didn’t even want to go this morning, but felt obligated.”

  “So what have you found out so far? How can I help you?” Tony said.

  “I’m looking for phone numbers of Bitsy or anyone who knows her. We find Bitsy, we find Sophie.”

  “Who is this…Bitsy?”

  “Someone Sophie’s known since junior high. Sophie got her a job as one of the Pep Squad Girls.” Greg scrutinized the notes on her bulletin board and found only business related notes and numbers. “Damn it.” He rifled through stacks of papers, looking for anything that would lead him to Sophie.

  He picked up a business card. “I found something, a phone number.” His fingers shook as he punched the number into his cell.

  “Hello, Susan? This is Greg. I’m looking for Sophie. Have you seen her today?”

  Tony motioned for Greg to put the call on speaker phone.

  He hit SP-Phone and held his cell out so Tony could hear the conversation.

  “Can’t say th
at I have,” Susan said. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “She’s missing. Do you have Bitsy’s phone number?”

  “No, I don’t, but she’s Sophie’s friend, not mine. Sorry.”

  “Do you know where she lives?”

  “Not exactly. All I know is that she moved into a new apartment a few weeks ago. I’m not sure where.”

  “What kind of a car does she drive?”

  “A late model Chevy Malibu.”

  “What color?”

  “Black.”

  Greg thanked Susan and said goodbye. He tried calling Sophie again. Where was she? Why wasn’t she picking up? Whenever he tried, his calls went straight to voice mail. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Sophie was in grave danger.

  “Something’s happened to Sophie.” Greg couldn’t hide the fear from his voice.

  “You don’t know that for sure. Maybe you pissed her off. How are things between you? ”

  “Things were good. Real good. We made love twice this morning. She didn’t even want to go to the fucking brunch.” He paced and ran his fingers through his hair. “Why isn’t she answering her goddamned phone?”

  “I don’t know. How about you start calling her friends until one of them tells us where this Bitsy lives. While you do that, I’ll make a few calls to get things moving. This Bitsy character might be hard to find…considering that she just moved. But don’t worry, Greg. We’re going to find Sophie.”

  “I swear to God, if I find out where that bitch is holding my girl, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what? Do something you’ll regret? Look Greg, you’re my best friend and I can’t let you go off halfcocked and do something stupid. I don’t want to have to arrest you. Let me handle it.” He pointed to Greg’s cell. “Start calling. What kind of a name is Bitsy anyway? No one in their right mind would name their kid Bitsy.”

  “It’s short for Beatrice,” Greg shouted as he searched Sophie’s work station for more phone numbers. He checked drawers and rummaged through files.

  “Greg. Get in here.” Tony shouted from the kitchen.