“They don’t know who you are,” Dylan said. “She’s getting the worst of it.”
My phone buzzed again. Then again. All people I used to know, ones I hadn’t bothered blocking because they hadn’t even wondered where I’d gone off to. The messages were all the same.
Saw you with that chick! Hot damn!
Who was that naked girl on the beach? Where can I get one?
You know how to get out of town all right! Saw your pictures!
Then another from the unknown number. This one made clear who it was.
Chance Arthur McKenzie! What in God’s name were you doing cavorting with some California hussy in front of cameras? You better call me right now. I’m on Aunt Gertie’s cell phone. I can’t even leave a voice mail for you when I use mine.
My mother. Just about the last person I wanted to ever see again. And Aunt Gertie was right up there. I was not going to give them the time of day.
I blocked the new number and shut off the phone.
I’d had just about enough of LA.
“Gentlemen,” I said. “If you wouldn’t mind giving me a lift back to the apartment, I need to gather my stuff and head on out of here.”
“What?” Paul said. “You can’t leave us now. Things just started getting interesting!”
I didn’t want to tell him the whole reason I’d gone away was to blend in and become invisible. LA had just blown my cover.
“Let the boy adjust,” Dylan said. He slid out of the booth and dragged Paul along with him. “It isn’t every day you become a viral video.”
Thankfully the boys were quiet as we headed out to the car and drove back to Jazz’s place. I was still in a pisser about the messages.
My mother. Of all people to chastise me about anything. She was the one making everyone suffer.
I knew it was my fault. But it was her fault too. And my pissant friends. All of them.
The image of my sister in that facility, her chest rising and falling with the ventilator, flashed through my vision long enough to remind me why I’d left the whole lot of them behind. The only one I cared about would never walk again, never talk again, never do anything but waste away until she died. If our mother ever let her go in peace.
I didn’t have a word to say to a single one of them ever again. And now this stupid video was making them all track me down.
I would toss the damn phone if it wasn’t for Charlie. But maybe even that wasn’t good enough. I could write down her number and then chuck this stupid thing. I should have done it months ago.
I would this time. And as soon as I did, I wouldn’t be able to get out of this godforsaken city fast enough.
Chapter 19: Jenny
Tina and Corabelle spent most of the day with me, probably thinking they were on suicide watch or something. But I was fine.
I practiced what I would say to my mother if she spotted the video or the tabloids. I didn’t think she went to any of the gossip sites, but who knew?
I was grateful that, at the very least, the gossip rags weren’t digging into my past. I didn’t need sob stories about my poor, poor tragic family. They didn’t know anything, and if they wanted to put some sort of pathetic spin on my life choices, I’d torch every last one of their offices.
Yeah, maybe Tina and Corabelle were actually on arson watch.
I wondered if Chance had seen any of this yet and how he was taking it. Frankie had called an hour ago asking if I was okay. I told him it didn’t matter. So what if I was the naked tart? I didn’t ask if it meant none of his friends would hire me now.
Although who knows, after the naked pictures were plastered everywhere, I might have too many offers. The wrong kind.
I flung myself on my sofa after they left, sort of glad to be alone. I propped the laptop on my belly and clicked back through all the images, saving the good ones showing Chance.
Nothing had popped up showing us between the rocks, so either the photographer didn’t have anything or he was still working a deal. Judging by the limitations of his equipment in the moonlight photos and how dark it was in our hidden spot, I was guessing nothing had really turned out well, if he had it at all.
I could see the image in my mind, though. Chance, kneeling in the sand, his mouth working up my thigh. My body did a little involuntary clench just thinking about it. I could feel it today. A few aches here and there. Delicious. Just enough to be a reminder. Not enough to hurt.
I wasn’t under any contractual obligations now. I could sow my girl oats all I wanted, and I knew exactly what would fix a post-boy melancholy. Hair of the dog.
Although, I should probably get checked out first. Make sure there were no lasting remnants of Chance’s prodigious parts. Condom in the sand. God. How stupid was that?
I idly flipped through the images, studying Chance. I tried to put together everything I knew about him.
He was a singer.
He had hitchhiked from Chattanooga, Tennessee.