Frayed

by Kim Karr

  I’ll pick you up. I don’t want you driving back here tonight so late.

  I’m more than capable of driving in the dark and I didn’t invite you over.

  I’ll be there at eleven.

  I said I didn’t invite you over.

  I said I’d be there at eleven.

  Fine. But don’t come in.

  I stare at my screen and shake my head. I’ll be patient and wait until she’s ready to tell her family, but not for too long. Of course I understand her hesitation. I’m done with secrets and hiding things. I’ve had enough of that shit to last a lifetime.

  With the handlebars beneath my palms, I grip tight as the wind whips all around me and the dark sky meets the horizon before me. My intent when I took today off from work was that it would be a day of reflection. It’s Halloween, which officially marks one year to the day that my downward spiral into oblivion began, which eventually resulted in me hitting rock bottom—hard. I was lost for many long months, but I’ve since found myself . . . becoming a better person.

  Aside from walking around constantly feeling I’d been stabbed in the heart and punched in the gut at the same time, I was down and out with no one to turn to. My relationship with my sister had suffered from my blatant disregard of anyone else’s feelings but my own. My friendship with Caleb had been strained from my deceitfulness, and even though we seemed to be back on track, he wasn’t around. He was away training to become an FBI agent. And honestly, aside from Dahl I had no one left in my life. That’s when I took off for Australia.

  I spent four months there and loved every minute of it. When I returned to California I decided to live in LA in hopes of getting my old job back. But that too didn’t go as planned. Not only did I live in a shithole motel for way too long, but I ended up as the wedding columnist for my old editor. I wanted my investigative journalist job back, but since I wouldn’t play ball and divulge my source for the piece on the drug cartel or turn over the article I had written more than three years ago but never published, she pigeonholed me into a job she knew I’d hate. But I couldn’t give her what she wanted. First of all, I no longer had any of that shit. I had given it all to Caleb. And second, my journalistic code of honor prevented me from divulging my sources. Taking the job she offered was just another poor choice I made in a long list of poor choices.

  But I had already been down so many twisted roads I couldn’t see straight anymore. Pinpointing a single catalyst is hard, but if I had to choose one I would say it was the investigation. And although the investigation might be why I had to leave my old life, it’s not why I lost myself. But for the longest time I used it as the reason. Why wouldn’t I?

  The whole thing was so fucked up. It started out as a simple task—publish an article on drug trafficking. Easy enough, I thought . . . just research it, write it, gain critical attention, rise to the top—and I’d be the next Anderson Cooper. Well, that’s not how it went down. The story I was investigating was not only way bigger than I ever could have imagined, but also much more dangerous. Dangerous enough that my subject wanted to kill me and threatened to kill my girl if I didn’t stop. But even when I did stop, that wasn’t enough—they were coming after me. So I faked my own death and disappeared for what I thought would be the rest of my life.

  I defected to New York City and lived there for three years as Alex Coven. The first two years were rough, but by the third year I started to make a life for myself. I was hanging out with a girl I liked, started swimming and running again, stopped the excessive drinking, and even made a few friends. But that life seemed small and worthless the day the FBI knocked on my door and told me I could go back home to California. I didn’t even have to think about it. All I knew was I had a second chance to get my old life back and I wanted it . . . all of it, including my girl, Dahlia London.

  But three years was a long time to be gone, and things change, people change. Dahl wasn’t the same girl I left behind. She was harder, maybe stronger, maybe more broken . . . I don’t know exactly, but I do know she wasn’t in love with me anymore. I tried to get her back, but it didn’t take long to figure out I couldn’t. I stopped my worthless efforts after my mother died. It was never going to happen anyway, especially after Dahl found out I had cheated on her in college and wouldn’t you know it—it was with the sister of the guy she now loved.

  Then as if that wasn’t enough, my beloved mother suffered a stroke and passed away. After that I didn’t give a fuck about anything anymore. I just wanted to forget everything . . . who I was, what I’d done, what had happened to me. Forget it all. And I can wholeheartedly say that no longer caring about anything was when I lost myself. I hit rock bottom because I didn’t give a shit about anyone, not even myself.

  My final wrong step came the day I watched Dahl’s attacker and my shooter, Josh Hart, being found guilty of a pony charge. I couldn’t take it anymore and as I was drowning myself in a bottle of Jack, my ex-girlfriend from New York City called me. Kimberly was looking for company and since I was too, I went to her. She was drunk, I was drunk, and I fucked her as if she were someone else. Of course Kimberly threw my ass out. I left her apartment full of guilt and not paying the least bit of attention to how much alcohol I had consumed.

  That night I was pulled over and arrested for driving while intoxicated and had no one to call—Caleb was MIA, Serena was in Hawaii with Trent, and my only friends, Beck and Ruby, were out of town. That left me with only Dahl. And when I called her I was shocked that she came and bailed me out. My life changed after that. Maybe it was the arrest that scared the shit out of me, maybe it was closure—I had felt nothing but friendship toward Dahl when she drove me home—or maybe it was knowing I owed my mother more than the life I was leading.

  But I turned things around after that day. I quit the job I hated, I let go of the loose ends to the investigation that I hadn’t been able to put to rest, and I reconciled with my sister. I moved back to the place I loved—Laguna. And in the process of moving back into my mother’s house, my sister and I discovered that my mother had been awarded a ten-million-dollar settlement for my father’s wrongful death and had willed it to us. With that money I knew what I wanted to do with my life—help magazines suffering rejuvenate themselves.

  I blink away the memories and look up. The stars above me are bright, the night is clear, and the air is warm, but I won’t be taking my bike to pick up Bell tonight. I’m not sure she’d appreciate climbing on the back in a dress and heels even though I wouldn’t mind. Hmm . . . maybe I should reconsider? Cruising up the hill to my driveway, I stop and put both feet on the ground—my intent was that today would be a day of reflection, but now I see it as another new beginning.

  CHAPTER 16

  What Now

  Bell

  Magic is in the air. The Amazing Grace Sound Studios have been transformed into a place fit for a princess for the unveiling of Ivy’s new album, My Mended Heart, and by none other than myself. I couldn’t be prouder of how it turned out. Elation is buoying me and nothing is going to squash it. I can’t believe how much one day can change everything—put things in perspective. I shouldn’t have been so worried about the past. I need to concentrate on the future . . . as Ben said. Because really—that’s all that matters.

  I breathe in the scent of the flowers that fill the room and then shift my gaze to admire the glimmer of light from the crystal chandeliers. The room looks magical, just as I envisioned. Amazing Grace has been transformed from a concrete hangar into a glittering nightclub. With six crystal chandeliers, dozens of round tables, and more than a hundred vases of purple dahlias and, of course, a splash of ivy.

  I’m not late, but I’m by no means early. Jack and my mom drop me off before they park the car because they know I’m fretting. I have so much to do in so little time. Ivy and Xander are right on my heels and they try to catch up with me, but all I can squeeze out is a quick hello and congratulations. I have to run to make sure the food has arrived, and the table centers are just
as I described, not to mention make sure Nix and Garrett get off the stage and stop fooling around. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed and I also feel bad for not bringing Ben, but we had discussed it last week. I’d told him I’d be too busy to bring a guest. That was the truth, but not the whole truth.

  He had laughed and said, “Sound Music received an invitation, but Aerie will be attending since my ownership of the company won’t be made public until the following day.”

  Admittedly I was relieved. I still am. I’m not ready to tell my family anything—there are just too many variables. And thank God ownership of Sound Music has never come up so I haven’t had to feign ignorance or lie.

  “Garrett, get off the stage and stop goofing around,” I scold.

  His brow creases. “What’s wrong with you? You look really red.”

  I feel my forehead. My temperature seems normal, but I’m burning up. “No, I don’t. Do you think you can help me out and find Leif? I want to make sure he has everything set up for Ivy to take the stage.”

  He scuffs the carpet with his foot and offers me a bright smile. “Anything for you—tomato face.” He grins.

  I shove his shoulder. “Cut it out.”

  He strides toward the bar area but stops and tosses over his shoulder, “Red and green.” He points to my shorts romper. “You’re practically ready for Christmas.”

  I chase after him grabbing a napkin off the table, ready to swat him.

  “I better make like a hockey player and get the puck out of here.” He laughs.

  I really missed the gang while they were gone on tour. I’m glad that even though the Wilde Ones broke up they are all still working together at the studio. And of course we have the addition of Ivy now and her bassist, Leif Morgan, both of whom I adore. Speaking of adoring—in walk my brother and Dahlia.

  Dahlia looks amazing. She’s wearing a pewter-colored halter dress with a chain neck and a large brooch at the center of the deep V. River looks pretty good himself in a suit much like Xander’s, and he has opted for no tie. He and Dahlia are fashionably late as always, but since today is their one-year anniversary and I was practically late myself, I think it’s perfectly acceptable.

  I watch as River and Dahlia meet up with Xander and Ivy. I notice River search Xander’s eyes, and if I hadn’t been looking, I would never have noticed the slight nod Xander gives him. River grabs Xander around the neck and pulls him forward. Oh my God, the engagement. And it’s River and Dahlia’s anniversary too. What’s wrong with me? I rush over but it’s too late. The four of them are huddled together. I move fast, as fast as I can in these heels, but still Garrett beats me to them.

  “Aw . . . I missed out on the hugs and kisses. What, because we all work together now I get shafted?” he says.

  I try to push forward to congratulate my brother, but there’s a tap on my shoulder.

  “Hey, Dino, everything all set with the food?”

  “Well, there were a few changes to the menu,” he says softly.

  “Like what?” I ask sternly.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Garrett grab River by the collar and jerk him backward. “Dino, I’ll be right back.”

  I head over to Garrett with my hands on my hips.

  “You’re late, dick. Come on,” he quips to River. Then he starts to shake his hips and sing, “LA, let’s get this party started!”

  I guess the old band is going to have a jam session, because when I look toward the stage they’re all up there—River, Leif, Garrett, Nix, the drummer, and even Zane, River’s replacement before Ivy. Since the crowd rushes the dance floor and throws their hands in the air, dancing to a cover of “Hands All Over,” I decide to leave them alone. It’s a record release party after all. It’s then I notice I still have the napkin clenched in my hand, and thoughts of Ben instantly surface. His hands on my body, the way he knows just how to touch me. The way he made me come right there on the beach with firecrackers behind my eyelids.

  “Bell, do you want the trays of champagne brought out now or after Ivy sings?” Matt asks.

  I blink away my dreamy state, a little embarrassed that Matt might have just gotten a glimpse of what I was imagining. I shake away the thoughts for now and decide it’s also time for me to get this party started.

  “After, I think,” I say, and then go in search of Ivy.

  “Finally,” I say when I find her. With my nerves calmed I get to look at her for the first time tonight. She looks utterly beautiful in her short dark blue sapphire satin dress. I’m shocked that Xander hasn’t had a heart attack yet over her wearing it—it’s not only sleeveless but backless as well. He’s very protective over, as he says, what is his. But since the dress matches the color of her eyes as well as her sapphire star earrings, he must have let it go or maybe he’s just more secure. Her earrings glitter from her ears like shooting stars from the sky. They make me smile every time I see them. They were my grandmother’s and Ivy always admired them when she wore them. It seemed fitting that Mimi gave them to her, because she always thought Ivy was going to be a star.

  “Come with me,” I tell her. “So?” I ask.

  She looks at me blankly.

  I grab her hand and turn it over and there it is—the engagement ring my father gave to my mother. I hug her tightly and whisper, “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, Bell.”

  I pull away. “Now come on, we have things to do.”

  I drag her over to the photo booth I rented. I have her pose a few times, well, maybe more than a few. Next Dino captures my attention and points to the table centers. They are missing the silver stars I asked to be confettied around the flowers.

  “I have to go,” I say, running off to place some of the photographs in the centers instead.

  Aerie sashays up to me as I’m fixing the tables. “Bell, you look amazing. I love your outfit,” she says in a really bubbly manner.

  “Thank you. I love your look too.” She looks very businesslike with a touch of sass—her hair is in a bun and she’s wearing a purple pantsuit with pumps, but surprisingly it’s low-cut and shows a hint of cleavage.

  She smiles. “So, how are things?”

  I know exactly what she’s asking and I can’t take the chance of discussing Ben here, so I deflect the question. “Where’s Jagger?”

  She gestures toward the makeshift bar with her wineglass. “Oh, Jack caught him on our way in and they’re huddled somewhere.”

  “Film talk?” I roll my eyes.

  “Yep.”

  “That’s so Jack. So, how’s the movie anyway?”

  “Still hasn’t started filming. Production issues.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  She shrugs. “I’m going to get another drink before I tell Xander and River about Ben acquiring Sound Music magazine.”

  I gulp. “Oh.” I want to say thanks for the heads-up because I plan to be nowhere near either of those conversations. I watch Aerie approach Xander and quickly avert my gaze, not even wanting to witness his reaction. When I scan the room, my eyes land on not only Tate but Romeo too. Romeo grins with a slight wave and I wave back, then head toward the hallway and into one of the offices we’ve turned into our prep room. I suspect Tate brought Romeo as his plus one. Tate has been a friend of Jack’s for a while, so I knew he’d be invited. His father was Jack’s business associate many years ago. But when did he become buddies with Romeo?

  Once I have everything as organized as possible, I check my phone. No texts from Ben since before I left. I can’t understand why. I feel so disappointed I could have invited him to come with me—but I was too chicken. The thought of Ben in the same room with River and Xander seriously makes me almost break out in hives. In fact, my skin is itchy just thinking about it.

  But Ivy and Xander offer the perfect distraction when I meet them in the hallway. We haven’t spent that much time together since I’ve been living in Ben World, but I’ve known her since I was ten, so I feel a connection to her.

&nbs
p; “No more pictures, Bell,” she jokes.

  I have to laugh. “Oh God, no. I think Xander might lose it if I ask him to smile one more time.”

  “What’s so funny?” Xander asks, putting his arm around Ivy and pulling her to him. I love seeing him like this—happy and in love.

  “Nothing. Nothing at all,” we both say in unison.

  My phone dings and I quickly pull it out of the pocket of my little romper. Finally . . . Ben. Why is seeing him in such a short time making me so nervous? It’s not as if we haven’t sleep together before. I read his text.

  Did I tell you how much I enjoyed the noises you made in the parking lot earlier?

  A slight rosy color blooms on my cheeks—I can feel it. My body already feels ten degrees hotter than it should, and his message only intensifies the heat.

  “Who’s that? A guy? Maybe a boyfriend?” Ivy teases.

  Xander snorts. “You don’t know Bell well enough yet—she always has a boyfriend.”

  I try not to let his quip jab me in the heart, but it does. Yes, I always had a boyfriend, but they were never really boyfriends, not that he’d understand that. I’ve always had this overwhelming need to make men happy. It’s deep-rooted, my therapist said—stems from feeling that I couldn’t make my father happy so I was trying to make up for that. But I’ve worked through those issues now.

  I redirect my attention to my brother and put my hands on my hips. “I’ll have you know, brother of mine, I have not had a boyfriend since Tate almost a year ago.”