Get Me, Page 2

  "What was that?" one of the reporters asks breathlessly.

  "My bikini. The one I was wearing when I first met him on the beach."

  "Oh, that's sick," she says.

  "He also left us something."

  "What?"

  "An envelope addressed to my mom. Inside were photos of me. From everywhere. School. With friends. Boyfriends. He'd been following me for months."

  "Wow," Maggie says.

  "And that's why I was sent here. And why I had to lie about who I am. I'm hiding."

  "So, are you going to hide out forever?" Riley asks.

  I tell them the rest. About Vincent following my friends. About the breakins at the rehab centers. About Vincent showing up at the surf tournament and later in Miami. About the nationwide search for the next Abby Johnston. About the photos of Tommy and Brooklyn with their heads blown off.

  About going back to the club to see Vincent.

  About the girl's death.

  "That's why I lied. I wanted everyone to hate me because I need to protect you. Protect Eastbrooke. Because if he finds out where I am, he'll come here. And it won't be pretty."

  "What are you going to do now?" Maggie asks.

  "I'm fighting back. I'll probably end up kidnapped or dead but, hopefully, he'll end up in jail." I shut my eyes tightly, not loving my odds. I look directly at the reporters. "Either way, you'll have another story."

  Cooper escorts the press out of the room while I get hugs and words of encouragement from my friends.

  Riley wraps an arm around my shoulder and whispers, "You told me the truth. Mostly."

  "Yeah, I did."

  "I got it all done," Annie says, handing me back my phone. "You should have told us."

  "At first, I didn't know you well enough to trust you. Once I did, I was afraid to put you in danger."

  "You were going to take me home to meet your parents," Dawson says flatly. "Your real parents?"

  "Yeah. I was going to tell you the truth on the plane."

  "And I fucked it up. I'm sorry."

  "Which really made me afraid to trust any of you."

  "Okay," Cooper says, heading back into the room. "I think you should all either go dance or head out. It's getting late."

  Dallas narrows his eyes at me. "Coach Steele is being awfully helpful."

  "After the Miami incident, he was brought in to babysit me. Be my bodyguard."

  Maggie gives me a smile and a wink. "Lucky girl. Have a good Christmas break. Be safe. And I'll miss you."

  "I'll miss you too."

  "You better be coming back to Eastbrooke."

  "If I can't, at least now you'll know why."

  Dallas joins the hug. "If you don't, you better stay in touch."

  "I will. I promise." I turn to Riley. "Hey, can I catch a ride to the hotel with you and Ariela?"

  Riley looks around, seemingly surprised. "Where's Aiden?"

  I put my head down. I don't want to say it. My heart hurts.

  "Is he meeting you at the hotel?"

  "He walked out and didn't want me to follow him."

  Riley shakes his head. "Why would he do that?"

  "I don't know, Riley!" I snap.

  "We'll give you a ride," Ariela says sweetly, comforting as always.

  "Thank you. I'll meet you out front in a couple minutes."

  As soon as everyone leaves the room, Cooper says, "I'm coming to the hotel with you. And you need to explain to me what really happened."

  "Whitney was going to share something about Peyton. It was bad, Cooper. Something that should not have been shared. I couldn't let her do it."

  "So you outed yourself for a friend?"

  "Yeah, I guess so. It just all happened so fast. In retrospect, I should have confessed to having an affair with you or something like that. We could have dealt with it a whole lot easier. I mean, big deal if you got fired and I got expelled. I didn't tell you this, but I was going to tell Aiden the entire truth tonight as soon as we left the dance. I guess it was what was on my mind. And you don't need to come to the hotel. I'll be fine there. Just meet me at my loft on Monday morning, as planned."

  "Look, I know you want to call the shots. I get it. I like your bravery and your boldness, but you need to listen to me and do what I say."

  "What do you want me to do?"

  "Let me guard you 24/7. I believe it's in your best interest. At least until we know if this is contained."

  "You're probably right."

  His eyes get big and he laughs. "Did you really just agree with me?"

  "Yeah, I did. I don't think I'll be in danger at the hotel. Even if it gets out, Vincent won't know where I am. Everyone else is staying at another hotel near here. It's where all the parties are. Riley and Aiden wanted us to be somewhere . . . nicer . . ." I sigh, thinking about the amazingly romantic night I was supposed to have.

  "What's your room number?" Cooper asks, getting out his phone.

  "1214."

  He calls the hotel and makes himself a reservation, securing an adjacent room. "Don't leave the hotel room without me."

  "Aiden walked out when he heard the truth. If he's gone when I get to the hotel, I'll want to go home. To my loft."

  "Sounds reasonable. I need to tie up a few loose ends with the dean and break the news to Garrett."

  "Do you have to?"

  "He has computer experts who can monitor social media sites. They're skilled hackers, which may come in handy. We need to be sure you aren't compromised."

  "Yeah, I guess you're right. Don't let him yell at you. It's not your fault."

  As I leave, I can't help but glance back at the students dancing to a slow song and wish Aiden and I were still out there.

  Epic, weed-induced dream.

  Midnight

  Riley hands me a flask the minute I get into their limo.

  I shake my head. "I'm okay."

  "How did you speak so calmly about almost being kidnapped, the stalker, and possibly dying?" Ariela asks.

  "It's been four months since it happened. I suppose I'm just used to the facts. I hope I didn't ruin your night."

  Riley grins at me. "Some of the events were a bit unexpected but, you gotta admit, it's been an interesting evening."

  Ariela nods in agreement. "Was it hard for you to lie?"

  "At first, it was easy. All I was really lying about was my parents. But the more I got to know people, became friends with them, the harder it got. That was another reason why I almost didn't come back to Eastbrooke after Thanksgiving break. I felt like I was being eaten from the inside out. I love you guys. It was killing me."

  She pulls me into a hug. "I'm glad we know the truth."

  My phone starts buzzing. I look down at it, hoping it's Aiden. Instead, I see the name of someone I don't want to deal with.

  "Shit, I better take this," I say. "Hey, Garrett."

  "What the hell were you thinking?!"

  I hold the phone out as Garrett continues to yell at me. About Vincent finding me. About how stupid what I did was. How he's going to come get me himself.

  Riley and Ariela start making funny faces at me.

  It feels so good to have them on my side. To not have to hide all this.

  I start to laugh.

  Loudly.

  Like I'm high.

  I used to wish I were dreaming. That this whole thing was just some epic, weed-induced dream. But I'm glad it's not. Because I would have missed out on making some amazing friends.

  "What the hell are you laughing about?!" I hear.

  I put the phone back up to my ear. "Nothing. I'm with some friends."

  "Did you hear anything I said?"

  "Kinda hard not to. Are you done?"

  "Excuse me?!"

  "I don't need to be yelled at, Garrett," I say calmly. "I know what I did was not good for me, but it is what it is. I can't change it. Why don't you take some of that passion and use it to motivate your computer wizards. The dean threatened students with expulsion if
they didn't comply, but I need keywords relating to my family and all the students' social media monitored. If anyone posts anything, it needs to be deleted somehow. I need major damage control. Vincent cannot find out about Eastbrooke."

  "You know you're not going to be able to go back there now."

  "I know I can't. Um, I have to go. I'll text you," I tell him because I don't want Riley and Ariela to hear what I need to say.

  Me: Just because I can't go back doesn't mean I don't want to protect the school. Please monitor it. Please, do whatever computer magic you can to keep it and my friends safe.

  We pull up to the hotel and Riley says, "What are you going to do about Aiden?"

  "That all depends on if he's here or not. If he is, I'll try to talk to him. The bitch of it all is that I was going to tell him the truth tonight as soon as we got to our room. Tonight was supposed to be the night, and I wanted him to know before we were together like that."

  "We understand why you lied, Keatyn. Aiden will too."

  "Do you think so? The look on his face. The way he held his hand up, telling me not to follow him. It killed me."

  "If he loves you the way I think he does, you'll work it out."

  "I hope so."

  "Don't forget, we're doing brunch in the morning."

  "I won't. We have a lot to plan. Damian decided to do a different song for the video. This one will be a lot more fun, I think."

  We take the elevator upstairs, Riley and Ariela getting out on the eighth floor. I get the keycard out of my clutch as the elevator dings.

  I walk slowly to my room.

  No. Our room.

  The room that was going to change our relationship; take it to a deeper level.

  I'm afraid. Afraid I'll open the door and see that his stuff is gone.

  While I'm contemplating if I should go in, the door bursts opens and Aiden comes out, carrying a bunch of bags.

  My heart sinks.

  Or breaks, maybe.

  "Aiden," I say breathlessly.

  "We need to talk," he says in a very serious, he's-so-done-with-me tone.

  All of a sudden, I want to run.

  Run away.

  Run out of the hotel.

  It was bad enough to see him walk out.

  It's going to be even worse to hear him say it.

  "You walked out when you heard the truth about who I am."

  He narrows his eyes at me. "I saw Peyton leaving in tears with Whitney's computer. I went to check on her. It was pretty obvious that whatever Whitney was going to say was about Peyton, not you."

  "You're leaving, though," I manage to squeak out, my eyes focusing on his bags.

  "These are Peyton's bags. Remember, we let her put them in our room?"

  "Oh, yeah."

  "Peyton told me what Whitney was about to do. You outed yourself for her. I appreciate that," he says flatly.

  This feels so surreal. I want him to hug me. Tell me he doesn't care who I am.

  But he doesn't.

  "I need to take her bags upstairs. Come with me. I know she'd like to thank you."

  "Where are your bags?"

  "Still in the room," he says, giving me half a flicker of hope.

  "Oh."

  "It's been a rough night," he says.

  "Yeah."

  "How did you get here? Is the dance over already?" He looks down at his watch and shakes his head. "I went out to check on her and found her bawling hysterically. She wouldn't tell me why. Just kept crying, rocking, and clutching the computer. Saying she was going to have to tell Mom and Dad. How disappointed they would be. She hadn't told me, but our parents decided to come tonight instead of tomorrow to help take our stuff to New York. Anyway, when we got back here, she told us everything. Half of what she said was hard to understand, but we got the gist of it."

  "Riley gave me a ride. How did your parents take it?"

  "Better than I did." He hangs his head in shame. "I went to Eastbrooke to take care of her. I should have known."

  "It's not your fault, Aiden."

  "I was coming back to the dance to get you right after I delivered her bags."

  "You were?"

  "Boots, I told you that I'd never walk away again. I'm a man of my word," he says sternly. Clearly insinuating that I'm the opposite of that.

  I'm a liar.

  "You lied for my sister, but you didn't tell the truth. I know you were acting. That wasn't the real you."

  "Jake said the same thing."

  "Was everyone mad?"

  "At first. But I told them the truth. You looked really mad. I was afraid you wouldn't ever talk to me again."

  The serious look returns to his face.

  "Let's not do this in the hall. Why don't you come with me to deliver the bags, then we'll come back here to . . . discuss."

  "Um, okay. Is Peyton doing okay?"

  As we head to the elevator, he says, "She's better now."

  I nod as he hits the button for the floor above us.

  He's silent in the elevator.

  My heart is pounding. I feel like I'm being pulled under by a riptide.

  Like I'm treading water but losing the fight.

  Waiting to drown.

  I can picture it. We'll talk to his sister, go back to our room, and he'll tell me that he hates liars. That I should have told him. That we're through.

  We exit the elevator and I follow him down the hall.

  He's walking fast.

  A man on a mission.

  Wanting to get it over with.

  Peyton's mom opens the door and immediately throws her arms around me, dragging me into their suite.

  Peyton is sitting on the bed. Her dad is looking somber on the couch.

  "Thank you for what you did for Peyton," her mom says.

  "Uh, you're welcome," I reply.

  I sit on the bed next to Peyton. Her eyes are red and swollen from crying and there's not a speck of mascara left on them. I give her a hug and whisper, "Did you really tell them the truth?"

  She answers me out loud. "Yes. I told my family everything. It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I feel so much better. It's such a relief not having that secret hanging over my head."

  "We're very grateful you stopped Whitney from showing the pictures, though," Aiden's dad says.

  A crazy and inappropriate thought flashes through my brain and I'm tempted to say he can thank me by giving me Aiden as payment.

  "We're prepared for the worst." Peyton rocks on the bed, holding her knees to her chest. "I know it's not over. Whitney will have backup copies. Best case scenario, she goes to the dean. Worse case, she releases it to the press. We'll deal with the fallout of it together. And even though I told Damian about it, I'm sure this will be the end of us." She starts sobbing. "I can't ruin his career. And as soon as Whitney finds out we're together, there will be no stopping her."

  "Whitney will not be a problem."

  "What do you mean?" her dad asks. "Of course, she is. We'll have to worry about it for the rest of her life."

  "Peyton, after you left, Whitney did try to threaten me, telling me that I couldn't stop her. That she has copies of the photos. But I told her that I could and would."

  "How?"

  I grin broadly, knowing that--for once--I used my inner mean girl for the greater good.

  "I told her if any photos ever leaked out--if there was even a hint about them--that I'd release a few photos of my own. Only I wouldn't bother with the press. I'd send them to her parents. Her college. Her boss. Her husband. Her friends. Whoever is in her life at the time."

  "What pictures?"

  "She's been sending pics to Camden for years. Naked. Partially naked. In a recent one, she was even lying on Coach Steele's desk. She thought she could make him jealous. Make him fall in love with her, maybe. Who knows. But what matters is that Cam has kept everything. He felt guilty he didn't tell Dawson about them right away, so he decided to save them, just to use as proof should Dawson ever de
cide to marry her."

  "Wow," Peyton says. "I knew she was obsessed with him. I didn't realize how much."

  "Cam warned me that Whitney was planning something. He was worried about you, so he sent me the whole file. And he was right. She's been planning this since that day she sat alone at the lunch table."

  "I pushed her."

  "I told you it would backfire. There's a big difference between standing up for yourself and tearing someone else down."

  Peyton shakes her head. "I'm so stupid."

  "Chalk it up to a life lesson. Anyway, I had a couple of the photos on my phone and showed them to her."

  "What did you say?"

  "That I'd ruin her."

  "You and Cam are really good friends. Thank you." She dabs her tears. "Do you really think it's over?"

  I give her a hug and say, "Yes."

  Aiden clears his voice.

  The sound of it makes me jump.

  "Since we seem to have everything covered here, Keatyn and I are going to head back to our room. We have some things of our own to discuss."

  He gestures toward the door.

  I give his parents and Peyton an awkward wave goodbye.

  He's quiet on the elevator, on the walk down the hall, and as we go into our room.

  After the dirt, the No more lying, and all the You can tell me anythings, I understand why.

  He has every right to be mad. I should've listened to my heart and told him. I had so many opportunities, going all the way back to that day in the chapel.

  "Before you say anything, I need to tell you something," I blurt out.

  He takes my hand and leads me over to the chaise, where we both sit down.

  He lets go of my hand but I quickly grab it again, clinging to it like a life raft.

  "I'm sorry I lied to you. There's a lot more to the story. I understand if you hate me. I deserve it. But you have to know that there were so many times I wanted to tell you. Remember the slutty video? When Dawson and I broke up? I was taking him to meet my parents that weekend. I was going to tell him the truth. That's why I was so upset. I was more upset at myself for trusting the wrong person again than I was about us not dating. And that's why, after what happened with Chelsea, I forgave you but wouldn't see you. I couldn't lie to you anymore. I was in deep with you, and I knew that eventually I'd have to tell you, and that you'd hate me for lying. But then you brought me dirt and told me our pasts didn't matter."