by Jillian Dodd
"They were outside too."
"Oh, thank god."
"It's gonna be okay," Damian says.
"But the nanny. And your dad and Tommy. And Brooklyn. I didn't win, Damian. I lost. I lost them."
"You lost quite a bit of blood, Keatyn. Try to stay calm."
"We're about to land," Damian says.
I reach down and touch my side, not far above my chaos tattoo, and feel a bandage. "I think I got shot."
"You did," Cooper says. "Fortunately, it just nicked you. I stopped the bleeding but you probably need a few stitches."
"How's your chest?"
"I'm gonna have a hell of a bruise, but that's better than the alternative."
As soon as the wheels hit the ground, I call James.
"How is Mom?"
"We heard Vincent's dead. That you were in an accident and a gun fight? How are you?"
"It just grazed me. I'm fine. Can Mom talk?"
"Of course. Hang on."
"Keatyn!" Mom says. I can tell she's crying. "Sweetie, are you really okay?"
I lose it and start bawling. "I'm so sorry about Tommy and the nanny. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. It's all my fault."
"Honey, Tommy and Matt aren't dead. Tommy just called me. They weren't in the trailer when the bomb went off."
"They weren't?"
"No. You know those two. They made everyone think they were in there discussing business when they had really snuck out to smoke a cigar."
"Ohmigawd! Damian! Your dad and Tommy are fine! They weren't in the trailer!"
I hug Damian while my mom says, "Honey, I have to go. The doctor is here, and I need a few stitches. As soon as I'm allowed, we're coming home."
"To Malibu?"
"Yes. As soon as possible."
"I can't wait to see you. I love you."
"I love you too. And I heard about Brooklyn. Keatyn, none of this is your fault."
Cooper herds Damian and me into a car when we land.
"Cooper, we have to go to Vincent's grandmother's house. We have to."
Damian nods in agreement.
Cooper calls Garrett, who advises us against it, but gives us the address.
We're all quiet on the ride there. Somber.
I feel like I'm going to a funeral.
It's easy to know when we're close.
The air is dark and smells of fire.
We get out where the street is blocked off and walk up the hill.
The police have the area cordoned off, but Cooper says, "We're looking for Garrett Smith."
The policeman lets us through and points us in his direction.
I get my first glimpse of what's left of the mansion.
Which isn't much.
Just four brick fireplaces standing at attention and a side portion of the home, the wood black and charred. Water is rushing down the street and there are numerous choppers flying overhead.
Garrett points at the burned trees.
"The fire was very hot, and they were worried it would spread. The firemen couldn't even get inside because it was so hot." My face takes on a pained expression as I think of the horror of Brooklyn burning to death. Garrett stops talking and puts his hand on my shoulder. "If he was in there, he didn't suffer. He would have died when the bomb went off, not in the secondary fire."
I nod gratefully. At least there's that, I guess.
"How are you?"
"I'm fine."
"You were in a car accident and got shot."
"I'm fine. Um, I just need a minute."
I move away from the group and walk closer to the house, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.
And use my heart as a guide.
I've felt this way since we arrived.
I'm detached.
Honestly, I feel like B isn't here.
Is it because he's dead?
"I don't think Brooklyn is here," I say out loud.
The second I speak the words, I become even more convinced. "They aren't going to find him. He wasn't here."
"Keatyn, you've been through a lot today. It's understandable that you'd be in denial," Garrett says.
"I'm not in denial. He's not here. I know it. He's alive and he's--I don't know, but we need to find him. I want a list of every single property. I'll go search them all myself if I have to."
"Keatyn, you need to rest," Damian says, looking really drained himself.
"I can't rest!" I yell. "Not until I find him."
"Keatyn, honey," Cooper says. "You need to calm down."
"I'm not going to calm down until we find him. So, if you want me to calm down, help me!"
"If you go home and take a shower, I'll meet you there in a half hour with the list of every property his grandmother owned along with all of Vincent's holdings," Garrett says, patronizing me.
I'm home. In my room.
Looking at myself in the mirror.
I'm a complete wreck. There is blood and dirt--and probably other gross things I don't want to know about--matted in my hair. One of my cheeks is swollen and red. I have bandages on my side and across my arm where bullets grazed me.
I hear Garrett talking to Cooper outside my door.
"She needs a sedative," Garrett says.
I swing my door open with such force it bangs against the wall and almost shuts back on me. "I don't need a sedative. I need you to find B. And that's what you should be doing, rather than plotting to drug me against my wishes!"
"She doesn't need a sedative, Garrett," Cooper says. "She just needs this."
He walks into my room and pulls me into a hug. A nice, tight hug.
And I start crying.
Again.
I don't know how long I cry.
But Cooper never lets go.
All the emotions I've felt today, all the sadness and sorrow, come running out of me.
I finally stop then look at Cooper and smile.
"Thank you. That is what I needed."
"Why don't you get cleaned up? I'll get us some food. And we'll make a plan."
"You know, officially, you don't have to spend any more time with me. I'm safe."
"Are you firing me?"
"No, I just love that you didn't want to leave. That you still want to help me. You're way more than a bodyguard, Cooper. You've become someone I trust. You've become my friend."
Cooper smiles and pats my back. "You've become my friend too."
"When this is over, what are your plans? Do you want to go back to work for the government? Or would you ever consider personal security?"
"You offering me a job?"
"Yes. I think the press is going to be insane when this all gets out."
"As long as I don't have to grade any more papers."
"Deal. I'm going to shower and then just lie down for a minute."
"Okay," Cooper says.
SUNDAY, JANUARY 8TH
Face facts.
8am
I wake up with a start.
I was just having a horrible dream.
And I can't shake the feeling something bad is going to happen.
I rub my eyes and look at the clock. It's eight in the morning! Shit. Why did they let me sleep so long?
I have to find Brooklyn.
Brooklyn.
That's what I was dreaming about.
He was trapped.
Dying a fiery death.
I jump out of bed and the towel I wrapped around myself after my shower falls to the ground.
I leave it on the floor, run into my closet, throw on some sweats, then nudge Damian, who is sleeping on the couch in my room.
"Damian, wake up. We've got to go find Brooklyn."
A few minutes later, I have Garrett and Cooper awake and sitting at the kitchen table with me while Damian makes us breakfast.
"We revisited every property on this list yesterday," Garrett says. "It doesn't look good, Keatyn. You're going to have to face facts."
"And what facts are those?"
"That either he was in Vincent's grandmother's house when it exploded or that Vincent killed him before he came to get you and disposed of the body."
"No. It doesn't make sense. It goes against everything we know. He wasn't going to hurt Brooklyn until we did the movie. Vincent was coming to get me! He was close to having everything he wanted. There's no way he'd ruin our movie by killing him before he'd realized his dream."
Cooper holds up his hand. "I hate to say it, but you told us that Vincent kidnapped Dallas too. Why do you think that was?"
"Because he was there?"
"Or because he needed a new Matt?"
His comment is like a sucker punch straight to my gut.
I get up, run out of the house, and down to the beach.
I plop down in the sand, watch the waves rush into shore, and think about crying.
But no tears come.
I know it's not over.
It can't be.
I refuse to believe it.
I think about Vincent's rewrite of the movie. How he framed Matt.
He told me that all he needed was me. That he had everything ready.
I know we're missing something.
What am I missing?
I try to clear my head by focusing on the waves.
I think about the new ending to movie. How it was exactly like his grandmother's old movie, Vince and Lacey passionately kissing in the sand.
I remember Vincent telling me about it when his . . .
A word suddenly pops into my head.
One single word.
Ashes.
Ohmigawd!
That's it!
I get up and run into the house yelling. "Cooper! Damian! Garrett! I know where he is!"
Cooper and Damian are sitting at the kitchen table scouring over the property lists for the millionth time.
"Let me see the list again!"
Damian hands it to me and I quickly scan it.
"Is this list current?"
"Yes," Garrett says.
"What about the house he bought down the beach?"
"There's no beach house on here. Let alone a property down the street."
"The old man, Damian. The one who gets up early and watches ladies jog down the beach. Vincent had coffee with him. I don't think he made it up. Come on!"
"There's an old guy about seven houses down I used to see on his deck sometimes when we were out surfing," Damian says, and follows me to the beach.
We take off running.
I count the houses as we run by.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
I run up to the deck and bang on the glass door. A startled woman answers in her robe. "Can I help you?"
"This is the wrong house," Damian says, stating the obvious.
"An old man. Gets up early in the morning and has coffee on his deck. Have you seen him? Do you know where he lives?"
"Mr. Richards lives next door," she says. "Although, come to think of it, I haven't seen him in a few days."
I tear down the stairs, back through the sand to the next house, and then take the stairs up to the deck.
When I bang on this door, a dog barks loudly and comes to the glass.
"Kiki!" Damian and I both yell.
"This is it! They're here!" I scream.
I pick up a ceramic pot from the deck, yell at Kiki to move, and then throw it through the window.
The living room is large and open, cluttered with cameras, sound booms, lighting.
A movie set waiting for me.
"Where's B?" I ask Kiki.
She runs to a bookcase in the living room and spins in a circle. Almost like she's chasing her tail.
"Search all the rooms," Garrett commands, coming in behind us.
Kiki barks and follows him down a hall.
I follow Kiki.
I round the corner to a bedroom and see a man lying on the floor, Garrett bent down next to him.
"This must be the old man who owns the house," Garrett says. "He's dead."
I close my eyes and pray that B's still alive.
Cooper and Damian meet us back in the hall.
"We've been through all the bedrooms down this hall. No one in them," Cooper says.
"Upstairs," Damian suggests, taking off running.
I go back to into the living room and start yelling, "Brooklyn! Brooklyn! Brooklyn!"
Kiki jumps on me, her big paws hitting my thighs and almost knocking me down.
"What is it girl? Do you know where he is?"
She runs back to the first place she took me. The bookshelf.
Only this time, she starts digging and barking.
"B!!" I yell again as I try to figure out what's behind the bookshelf.
A secret room, maybe?
I look for a latch. A button.
And the whole time, I'm yelling for B.
Finally, I put my fingers under the edge of the trim and pull, causing the whole bookcase to swing out toward me and revealing a steel door.
I pull the big handle, but it's locked and won't budge.
I bang on the door as Kiki starts digging and barking.
"B!" I scream, still pounding.
"Garrett, Cooper, Damian! I found a secret door!"
They are rushing back into the living room from different locations when I hear B's faint voice.
"Keats?"
"B! Ohmigawd! Are you okay?"
"Am I in heaven?" he asks.
"What? No. Vincent kidnapped you. He's dead. We've been trying to find you!"
"What about the bomb?"
"What bomb?"
"He said that if he didn't make it back with you, I'd burn."
Garrett goes, "Holy shit. We have to get out of here! Now!"
I turn around to see him staring down in disbelief at what appears to be a briefcase.
"This is a bomb. It's going off in twenty-seven seconds! We've got to get out of here!"
"We have to get B, first!" I yell.
"There's not time," Cooper says, pulling me toward the door. "If we don't leave now, we're all going to die."
The scene is surreal.
Looking like a movie set, but feeling way too real.
Damian and I share a look.
"You go. I'll stay with Brook," he says bravely. "Maybe it won't go off."
"No!" I yell as both Garrett and Cooper try to drag me out the front door.
Damian says, "Tell Peyton I love her."
My eyes fill with tears as Cooper pulls me closer to the door.
"No!" I scream.
I can't believe after everything we've been through that it's going to end this way.
My body goes limp in defeat.
As it does, a single word pops into my head.
The same word from the beach.
Ashes.
And I immediately know what I have to do.
I push Cooper against the wall and shove Garrett out of the way.
I run back to the bomb, see there are twelve seconds left, slam the briefcase lid shut, grab the handle, and take off with it.
I hear shouts of protest coming from behind me, but I ignore them.
00:11
Sprint across the living room as my life flashes before my eyes.
Floating in the waves. Salt. Sand. Freedom.
00:10
Crash through the broken window to the deck.
A hand on mine. Keats poetry. Sadness. Ribbit.
00:09
Run across the deck.
Pink blanketed bundles. Thirty perfect stubby fingers. The softest hair ever.
00:08
Hurdle a chaise blocking my way.
Fall leaves. Old Bricks. Green grass. Feeling safe.
00:07
Unlatch the gate.
A flash of green. Heartbreak. Love.
00:06
Bound down the stairs.
Tie-d
yed tutu. Ballet shoes. A handsome grin.
00:05
Tear through the sand.
Hammock blowing in the breeze. Three little words. Happy tears.
00:04
Feel the ocean rush onto my feet.
Stacks of hay. Cowboy boots. Lemonade.
00:03
Swing the briefcase back.
Ferris wheel. An arm on my shoulder. A perfect kiss.
00:02
Fling it into the ocean with all my might.
Stranglehold hugs. Baby powder and chocolate. Falling asleep in my arms.
00:01
Turn around and run like hell straight into Damian and beat feet back toward the house.
Shining lights. An audience. Performing.
00:00
An explosion knocks us both into the sand.
Blond hair. A hug. Lavender, honeysuckle, and the ocean.
Fish, water, and seaweed rain down on me.
I push myself up off the sand, ignoring my protesting body. Damian looks a bit dazed, but Kiki licks my face.
"Holy fuck, Keats! I can't believe you just did that. You're fucking nuts."
I ignore him and say, "Let's go, Kiki!"
As we run into the house together, the police and firemen arrive.
But I don't care.
They aren't moving fast enough.
What if there's another bomb in the room with B?
One we don't know about?
It could go off at any second.
"B!" I scream, pushing through the firemen who are discussing the best way to get through the steel door.
"Did the bomb just go off?" he asks.
"Yes, I threw it in the ocean."
"It shook the room so hard there's drywall dust everywhere."
"Drywall dust? Where?"
"Looking at the door, it's on my right."
I shove through whoever all these people are. At this point, I don't care.
I have but one goal.
Get to B.
I.
Have.
To.
Get.
To.
Him.
Working my way around the corner from the steel door, I find a bedroom.
And on the wall surrounding the room is a closet.
I throw the doors open, grab the clothes hanging there, and toss them out of my way.
Kiki starts digging and barking, her claws marking the drywall and spraying up dust.
"That's it, Kiki. Good girl. Good girl!"
I pay attention to where the screws are in the rack holding up the bar, assume that's where the studs are, and use my fist to start punching the drywall in between them.
I punch as hard as I can.
The drywall crumples but I can't break through.