This part wasn’t visible from the house, just the security cameras. I’d already told Wayne that I was leaving and to keep it from my guests. He wouldn’t even tell Mom unless she specifically asked.
Dix leaned against the side of the black Audi at the end of the drive. It wasn’t a limo—that was the other thing. Dix went with me to the clubs, got me in, then fucked off to the bar while I danced. When I was ready to leave, he’d take me home.
Fake dating worked just fine to get me inside, and no one asked me for ID.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said, shaking his head. “You are going to cause a riot in that outfit.”
I laughed. “No one is going to care. I’ve seen girls wearing essentially fishnet bodysuits.” Honestly, it wasn’t about how I looked. It was about losing myself.
He popped open the passenger door so I could slide in, before circling around. Once we were on the road, I glanced over at him. “My friends Frankie and Ian may need a driver while they’re here…”
“Long as I’m not with you, I’ll take care of it,” he said. “Though you may not be able to slip out as much with the girls here…”
“It’ll be fine.” I wasn’t discussing this with anyone. Dix was my key in the door and my driver. Also, having him with me meant I had a tacit amount of security. I hadn’t forgotten my so-called Forever Fan. They’d taken to following and commenting everywhere on my social media.
Even when they were blocked, they showed up with a new variation on the screen name. They’d sent some hateful emails after the last time our social media manager blocked him, so I told her to leave it be.
If he wanted to follow me and leave comments, I didn’t have to read them. That reminded me, I needed to make a list of solid advice for Frankie. She and Ian had a lot of talent. They were still fresh and new, but I didn’t doubt for an instant they would be a hit.
Fame never came for free, so better to know what pieces of yourself you were willing to share and where to draw the line.
“Where are we hitting tonight?” Dix asked as we blended into the traffic bleeding into Los Angeles proper.
“Sammie Bee’s,” I told him. It was a new club, only opened in the last six months, but it had already snagged a great reputation for hard partying types and the music was supposed to be killer.
“Sammie Bee’s it is,” Dix said with a sigh. “KC…”
“I’m fine, Dix,” I told him, before he could ask. “Just getting some restlessness out of my system.”
“Right.” He didn’t have to believe me.
I didn’t care who believed me right now.
The club had spotlights going and music thrumming when we pulled up. A line of people trying to get in stretched around the block. Dix handed off the keys to a valet and then offered me his arm.
Oh yeah, this was going to be exactly what I needed. The doorman knew Dix. So that, along with a couple of hundreds, got us in the VIP line without having to play the Kaitlin Crosse card.
Inside, the music beckoned. I gave Dix a kiss on the cheek and danced toward the floor in the center where the bodies were already writhing together and bouncing to the beat.
Yes, this was exactly what I needed.
Three
LACHLAN
The Mercedes-AMG One prowled over the hills as I drove the PCH on my way toward Los Angeles. It was a longer drive but far more beautiful than the boring shit that was the I-5. Maybe I’d talk myself out of going to see Ace when I got there. The blue-haired siren had taken over my dreams. Now she was coming after my waking hours.
Every-fucking-where I went, there were signs that made me think of her. A woman with blue hair? Yes, I looked to see if it was my girl. The cranked-up sounds of bubblegum pop rock? I stopped to listen.
A resurgence in their popularity had their last album playing on a dozen different stations. Every day, I seemed to find a new one. My phone buzzed, but I didn’t pick it up. Not while I was driving my baby.
The car was the best fucking present I’d ever received and one that pissed my mother off to no end. Made it even more perfect, especially since Gibs got it for me. It had almost been enough to make her yell at Gibs. He could take the heat, not that it seemed to bother him at all.
Me, on the other hand? I was in love with the car. I’d seen one during a car show, and I think it was the first time I sprang an erection that had nothing to do with a girl. It arrived on my sixteenth birthday.
Now, my baby went with me everywhere. We drove to school back east, and we drove back. I didn’t care if I couldn’t drive her much during the school year, I wasn’t leaving her behind. Mom would probably sell her when I wasn’t looking. Not to mention, out of sight, out of mind. When she didn’t see the car, she wasn’t pissed about it.
Another message vibrated on my phone, and I scowled. I took the next scenic pull-off and parked looking out over the Pacific Ocean. It was a few hours before sunset, but it would be spectacular out here.
Picking up the phone, I stared at the messages on the screen. Three, back-to-back from Ramsey, one from Jack at school, one from my dad, and fourteen from Payton.
I ignored the last and checked the one from Dad. His message was pretty straightforward. Just thanked me for visiting and hanging out over the summer. He was sorry he had so much work to do that he couldn’t afford the off time, but would I like to come back for the holidays?
Rubbing a hand over my face, I debated the message. Sean Nash was an attorney. He worked with several different labels, particularly Gibs’. It was how he’d met Mom in the first place. Their affair was over before the lines even turned pink, but he’d been as involved as Mom allowed him to be.
Ramsey and Jonas struggled with their fathers, but I liked mine. I just shot him back a message that said I’d let him know. The holidays had always been a tough time to see him. Mom tended to get dramatic if I chose to go to his place rather than home.
I debated checking Ramsey’s messages, then just skipped it. Although since I was stopped, I did a quick skim of my email on the off chance that Ace had reached out to me. No such luck.
There were a few new stories, including one from the Kissy Kat column, that popped up in my news alerts.
Guess which singer owns this rockin’ bod!
Kaitlin Cross: Good Genes or Good Doctors?
Problem Child Turning Heads in See-Through Dress
Torched Singer Burning Down the LA Club Circuit
The gossip was just that, gossip. Kissy Kat didn’t list any credible sources, they just alluded to a few vague ones “close” to a certain “Problem Child.” Really annoying. Even more annoying, she didn’t list the clubs that Ace had been partying at.
As hungry for knowledge as the news update left me, it also pissed me the fuck off. She was out dancing every night? Partying with strangers? On the club scene?
Fuck. That.
I’d never met a girl more in need of a keeper than her, and she was out there just shaking her ass for anyone who happened to be present? I dropped the phone back onto the charging pad, then pulled out and got back on the road.
Maybe I should have taken the I-5. I’d already be there. As it was, the sun was just going down when I got into town. I headed for the Bonaventure. Gibs always had rooms there and at one of the Marriott’s. They’d been in the studio most of the summer, so I wouldn’t have to share.