Get Me

by Jillian Dodd

  "This isn't part of the movie, Vincent," I say softly. "Tell me where Brooklyn is."

  Vincent's face softens and he smiles at me. When he leans in to touch my face, I smash him in the head with the rock I managed to pull out of my bag.

  He crumples to the ground.

  I don't waste any time. I grab Dallas under his arms, pull him out of the van, across the grass, and to what I hope is a safe distance away.

  "Lacey!" Vincent wails from inside the van. His voice sounds horrific. Like a wounded animal's.

  I leave Dallas in the grass and run back to the van.

  Throwing the door open, I find Vincent waving a gun at me.

  "You didn't fucking listen to me. You listened to him."

  "Tell me where he is!" I yell back.

  "You'll find out our location when we get there. Filming will commence immediately."

  "You're hurt. The van is wrecked. How are we going to get there?"

  He moves toward the door. "We'll find alternate transportation. And if you don't do what I say, I'll kill him."

  I realize I have no option. I knew it would come to this.

  And I knew, when the time came, that I'd go willingly.

  "I'll come to Egypt with you, Vincey. You're right. I want you. All to myself."

  Vincent squints, knowing I recited the script but that they were his lines. It seems to perplex him for a moment.

  He gets out of the van, waving the gun at me. "Get back in the van. We're leaving."

  I have no idea how in the world he thinks we could leave. Is he going to flip the van upright with his brute strength?

  That only happens in the movies.

  That's it!

  I look him straight in the eye and imitate my mother when she's mad. "Vincent Sharpe! How am I supposed to look good on set if you won't tell me where to send my hair and makeup people?"

  Screech!

  I turn around as three black SUVs stop and a swarm of agents jump out, their guns pointing at us.

  "Drop the gun and put your hands up," one of them shouts.

  Vincent turns and shoots, causing the agents to duck behind their cars and return fire.

  "Stop!" I scream, rushing in front of Vincent so they won't kill him. I feel a burning sensation on my side and my arm before the shooting stops.

  I scream again as Vincent drops to the ground behind me, bleeding profusely.

  Dark blood is pumping out of his chest with each shallow breath.

  A guy in a black suit tries to pick me up, but I react by throwing my arm backward and connecting with his face.

  I look down at Vincent.

  And know he's dying.

  "I love you, Lacey," he whispers.

  I fall on my knees in front of him, crying.

  Trying to be gentle, I pick his head off the concrete and cradle it in my lap.

  His eyes are shimmering with the love I saw that day on the beach when he talked about his grandmother.

  "It'll be okay, Vincent. You'll get to see your grandmother now."

  "I miss her," he says, his voice raspy.

  Blood is spurting out of his chest. I take my scarf off and shove it against his chest, trying to make it stop.

  "Please tell me where Brooklyn is. Where Matt is. So we can finish our movie."

  "Don't cry," he says. "I love you."

  The color drains out of his face and I know he's almost gone.

  "I love you too, Vincey," I say, as tears stream down my face.

  He looks into my eyes and mutters something that sounds like, "Grandmothers."

  He stops breathing. His eyes becoming fixed.

  And I know he's dead.

  I wanted him out of my life, but I didn't want this.

  I bury my face in his hair and cry.

  One of the men, who I recognize from Miami, picks me up and moves me away from the body. I sob into his suit as I hear sirens wail.

  "Dallas is awake and will be fine," he says. "Probably just a mild concussion. We're working on the other boys."

  What other boys? Does he mean Brooklyn? Did they find him?

  No, he couldn't know about B. I haven't told him where he is yet.

  "I need my bag!"

  I run to the van, grab my backpack, retrieve my phone, and make a call.

  "Damian! Damian! Have you left for Miami yet?" I say, remembering that he was leaving soon.

  "No, I took Peyton out for lunch and just got to the airport."

  "Whatever you do, do not leave without me!" I yell over the sirens.

  "Where the hell are you? And why are there sirens?" he asks, but I hang up and rush over to Dallas, who is now sitting up.

  "Are you okay?"

  "I feel like I was rode hard and hung up wet."

  I laugh. "My grandpa says that."

  One of the agents helps Dallas to his feet, saying, "We need to get you checked out by the paramedics."

  He leads us around the van when I see it.

  Aiden's car.

  Barely recognizable.

  Smashed beyond belief.

  Oh my god!

  Is that what he meant by other boys?

  I panic and start screaming at the top of my lungs, "Aiden! Aiden! Aiden!"

  I run to the car.

  He's not there.

  My heart nearly stops beating.

  My eyes move quickly across the debris, searching for him.

  "Aiden! Aiden!"

  "Keatyn," I hear him say.

  I turn around and, there, on a stretcher by the ambulance, I find a tuft of blond hair and the greenest eyes I've ever seen.

  I rush to his side. "Aiden, what happened?"

  "Thank god you're okay," he says, grabbing my hand. "I heard gunshots. Riley and I were freaking out because we couldn't get out of the car."

  "Did Vincent crash into you?"

  Riley holds up a little camera from a neighboring stretcher. "Not exactly. I recorded it, so you can see what happened later."

  I rub the bump on my head, not really understanding how he could have recorded an accident, but there's really only one question I want answered. "Are you two okay?"

  Riley points down. "My foot's messed up. Maybe broken. They want to X-ray it."

  "Aiden?"

  "Probable clavicle fracture," the EMT working on him says. "We're taking them to the hospital, but they appear to be in pretty good shape, considering the way the vehicle looks. They're lucky they were wearing seat belts and helmets."

  "Helmets?"

  "The ones you bought at the track," Aiden says.

  "You mean he didn't hit you?" I ask. As soon as I do, it dawns on me. "Wait?! You crashed into the van on purpose?!"

  Aiden gives me a sheepish grin.

  "You promised not to interfere!"

  "It was our only option. No one was coming. Riley didn't think you had your locket on. And we knew if we lost you . . ." He reaches up and touches my face.

  "But your car--and you're both hurt."

  "It's just a car. It can be replaced."

  "Aiden was on fumes. Almost out of gas," Riley continues. He's all pumped up. "Between his driving lesson and him sitting in on some movie planning, he thinks he's a stunt man!"

  I'm listening to Riley, but Aiden has me caught in his tractor beams and I can't look away.

  Tears fill my eyes again. "The prince isn't supposed to crash his white steed to save the princess."

  "I couldn't risk losing you."

  I close my eyes.

  I hate that I have to say this.

  I hate that I have to leave.

  Like this.

  Right now.

  But I have to.

  I bend down and kiss his cheek. "Thank you so much for rescuing me. Vincent is dead, and I know this is really bad timing, but, um, I have to go."

  "To the hospital?"

  "No, home. Damian's holding the jet for me. I have to go find B. It's my fault he was kidnapped in the first place. Please understand. I have to."


  "You're hurt," he says. "You need to be looked at."

  I shake my head, knowing I'm being pulled in another direction.

  I'm listening to my heart.

  And my heart is telling me I need to get my ass to Malibu and find him.

  "I'm sorry," I say.

  Aiden doesn't reply. He turns to Dallas, who has joined us. "Dallas, go grab my keys."

  "I hate to break it to you, dude," Dallas says, "but I don't think you'll be able to drive her again."

  "It's important."

  Dallas nods his head, hobbles over, gets the keys out of what's left of the car, and brings them to Aiden.

  Aiden separates the key from the keychain and presses it into my hand. "Luck and fate. Take them with you, find him, and then come back to me." He looks deep within my soul and says, "Promise me you'll be back."

  Tears fill my eyes as I shake my head and turn away from him.

  Because I know I can't promise anything.

  "Can you take me to the airport?" I ask one of the black-suited men.

  He shakes his head. "The police will need you to give them a statement."

  "But you shot him. I didn't."

  "I think you might be going into shock," he says in a patronizing voice. "Let's get you back over to the ambulance."

  "If you don't find someone to take me to the airport right this second, I'm going to call Senator McMahon and throw the biggest temper tantrum you have ever seen."

  The guy from Miami walks over. "What's the problem?"

  "Vincent, the guy who you shot, kidnapped my friend three days ago. They've searched Vincent's properties but haven't found him. That's why I didn't want you to shoot him. I needed to find out where he was."

  "Did he tell you?"

  "I think so. I'm so worried about him. There's a plane waiting for me. I can drive myself if you'll just let me borrow a car."

  "Are you sure you don't need medical attention?"

  "I'm positive."

  "Come on," he says. "I'll take you."

  Catastrophic events.

  The agent pulls out on the tarmac and Damian comes out of the terminal to greet me.

  "What is going on? Why do you need to come with me to Miami? And what was with all the sirens--oh, my god. Is that blood?"

  I look down at my shirt and realize it's covered in it. I nod at him, too tired to explain.

  "Is that your blood?!" he yells.

  "No. Let's take off and we'll deal with my wardrobe later."

  I close my eyes and say a prayer.

  Please help me find Brooklyn.

  "Is there anyone you need me to call?" the agent asks as he carries my backpack to the plane.

  "Uh, what?"

  "Is there anyone you need me to call?"

  "No, thank you," I say to the agent, but to Damian I say, "but I do need to call Garrett and tell him what happened."

  "You need to tell me what happened," Damian says.

  "Hang on," I say, as I pull my phone out of my backpack.

  I see that I have a text and numerous missed calls from Garrett.

  I read the text from earlier today first.

  Garrett: Two concurrent catastrophic events have just occurred. Get Cooper and run. You must leave Eastbrooke now.

  I call him as Damian and I board the plane.

  "Keatyn, where are you? Does Vincent have you?"

  "Vincent is dead."

  "Vincent is dead?" both he and Damian say.

  "Yes, but I know where he was keeping Brooklyn. I need you to go rescue him. I'll be there soon."

  "Where is he?"

  "At Vincent's grandmother's house."

  "Vincent told you that?" Garrett asks.

  "Yes, right before he died in my arms. Wait. What two catastrophic events?"

  "Are you with Cooper? Can I speak to him, please?"

  "Vincent shot Cooper in the chest. He fell to the ground." I start crying again. "I'm sorry. I think he's dead. Damian and I are getting ready to take off. We're coming home."

  "Not Cooper," Garrett says sadly. "He was a good man."

  "I know he was. I'm sorry."

  "You're positive he said Brooklyn was at his grandmother's?"

  "Yes, the Secret Service was shooting at him, so I ran in front of him, trying to get them to stop. But it was too late. There was blood everywhere. He told me he loved me, and I asked him to tell me where B was. As he was dying, he told me B's at his grandmother's."

  Garrett lets out a huge sigh. "Keatyn, I'm afraid I have some bad news. There was an explosion at his grandmother's house. Firefighters are on the scene, but it doesn't look good. I'm there now."

  "What are you saying?"

  "I'm saying Brooklyn couldn't have survived the blast. Or the subsequent fire."

  "No!" I scream. "No!"

  I drop the phone.

  It can't be true.

  Damian wraps me in a hug. I sob into his shoulder as he picks up my phone.

  I hear him say, "Are you sure? What? Two events?"

  I pick my head up and grab the phone out of his hand. "Garrett, wait. Your text said there were two events that made you think Vincent was coming for me. What else happened? Is my family okay?"

  "Why don't you put me on speaker, so I can tell Damian too," Garrett says defeatedly.

  "Something else bad happened, Damian," I say, gripping his hand tightly. "He wants me to put it on speaker."

  "You're on speaker, Garrett," Damian says.

  "This is difficult for me to tell you both, but there has also been an explosion on the Retribution movie set."

  Damian squeezes my hand back as Garrett continues. "There was a bomb in Tommy's trailer. Damian, he and your dad were said to have been inside at the time and are presumed dead."

  "Oh my god," Damian says, tears flooding his eyes.

  I cry too.

  And hug him.

  Not Matt and Tommy, too.

  "I'm sorry, Damian," I say as we hear Garrett say, "What the fuck?! Are you kidding me?"

  I hear a fist hitting metal.

  His voice cracks when he comes back on the phone. "There was another bomb. One of my men at the France location just reported that a bomb exploded there, too."

  "At our house? Is Mom okay? My sisters? Grandparents?"

  "I don't know. Fuck!" he says again. "I'll call you back as soon as I know something."

  "We're ready to go," the pilot says over the intercom. "Attendant, please close the door."

  "Damian, shit. I need you to have them change their flight plan. We need to go home."

  He rubs his eyes, shakily stands, and is going toward the cockpit when the pilot comes over the intercom again. "Hang on. The tower says there's some confusion. There's a bright green Viper causing some problems. Actually, the idiot is heading straight towards us."

  "Wait!" I scream, knowing it's got to be Riley's car.

  Except Riley is on his way to the hospital.

  I stick my head out the door just as the Viper screeches to a halt.

  Cooper jumps out of the car, waving a gun.

  "Cooper!" I scream.

  "Where is he?" Cooper yells. "Where is he?"

  I fly down the stairs and launch myself at him. "You're alive!" I say, crying harder.

  "I am. Where's Vincent?"

  "He's dead."

  Cooper holsters his gun, relaxes, and hugs me back.

  "I was afraid I had lost you," he says. "Where are you going?"

  "Home," I cry, grabbing his hand. "Please come with us. I need you."

  As we board the plane, the attendant gives me an expectant look. "Just picked up another passenger," I tell her.

  "Get buckled up," she says. "We'll be taking off for California shortly."

  I sit back down and hold Damian's hand.

  "Tell me what happened," Cooper says.

  "Bombs went off," Damian says flatly. "Brooklyn, Tommy, and my dad are dead. We're waiting to hear if Keatyn's family in France is okay."

  "What?"


  I tell him about the bombs.

  "I never expected him to do something like that," Cooper says.

  "Me either. I got his new script last night but only read the end. I bet anything bombs were part of the big action scenes. I should have stayed up and read it all. I could have stopped it from happening."

  "Tell me what happened with Vincent. Did you kill him?"

  "No. Aiden and Riley saw the van tearing out of school and chased it. I guess they were almost out of gas. Riley was afraid I'd taken off my locket because I had planned to sneak back home tonight." Cooper gives me a pointed look, but I ignore it. "They crashed into the van; it rolled. Vincent and I fought. The Secret Service showed up and shot him. I thought you were dead, Cooper. I saw him shoot you in the chest. You went down."

  Cooper pulls up his shirt, revealing a bulletproof chest protector. "The shots knocked me over and knocked the wind out of me. When I got up, you were already gone. The school was on lockdown. I came here because I figured he'd fly you back to California."

  "I'm so glad you're alive." I start sobbing again. "I caused all of this. Everyone's hurt or dead because of me. All I wanted to do was protect them. I tried to protect them."

  My head wobbles a bit; I feel woozy.

  "I don't feel very good."

  "Did you hit your head?" Cooper asks.

  I nod, but then I touch my side and feel warmth. Pulling my hand away and putting it in front of my face, I see blood.

  Cooper yells at me. "Are you bleeding?"

  As my vision blurs, I have a fleeting memory of a bullet hitting my side.

  "Keatyn. Keatyn! Wake up!"

  When I open my eyes, I see Damian. His eyes are red and teary.

  I shouldn't have fought Vincent. I should have let him get me a long time ago.

  I may have my life back, but how many lives did I ruin in the process?

  Brooklyn's. Damian's. His family's.

  And mine.

  I don't have anyone to go home to.

  Tears fill my eyes.

  "Did you not notice you were bleeding?" Cooper asks me.

  "They're okay!" Damian blurts out.

  I sit up quickly but then feel dizzy again.

  Damian pulls me into a hug.

  "Who's okay?"

  "Your family."

  I start crying with relief. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes, Garrett messaged Cooper while you were passed out. The bomb was inside a package that was delivered to your mom. The nanny was opening it on the kitchen island when it exploded. The nanny, unfortunately, is dead. Your mom was standing, looking in the fridge when the blast occurred. The heavy door shielded her. She has a concussion and some cuts, but she's fine."

  "And the girls?"

  "They were outside playing with James. They're all fine."

  "And my grandparents?"