Page 44 of Get Me (The Keatyn Chronicles 6)
"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."
