Falling Star (Beautiful Chaos #2) (9 page)

“D
O YOU KNOW that there are more stars than all of the grains of sand put together in the whole wide world?”

I finish braiding my Barbie’s hair and look up from where I am on the trailer floor. I see a pair of dirty knees. His boot is planted right on top of Ken’s face.

“Just goes to show how common stars are. Nothing special. Your new name is dumb. You’re dumb.”

“Please get your big ugly boot off of Ken’s face,” I say.

“Ken’s gay, don’t you know that? He’s fucking your boy teddies behind dumb bitch Barbie’s back.”

“He is not.”

“He is too.”

I push my brother’s pale, freckly leg away—or I try—but he squishes his foot harder into Ken’s beady eyes, and his plastic head pops right off. Mom had gotten me Ken and Barbie from Goodwill—I wanted to give them a forever home, another chance, some love—and now look. I can feel a tear threatening to fall, but I won’t cry. Not in front of HIM.

“I’m telling Mom you cussed,” I tell my brother.

He laughs at me, his turned-up, piggy nose scrunching. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK. She won’t hear you ‘cos she’s sleeping. Taken some blue ones.”

“Get away from me, Travis. I wanna be alone.”

“You’re a spoiled little brat, you know that, Diane. Die Anne. I wish you would. I wish you’d just go and DIE so me and Dad can live in peace.”

I WOKE UP WITH A JOLT—my dream having given me a clue. “Travis?” I shouted out. “Where am I?” But all I heard was silence ringing in my ears. My head was still heavy, and I sensed a bruise on the right side of my neck. I heaved myself up but fell straight back down, so I crawled on my hands and knees until I felt, not the mattress beneath me, but the linoleum floor. I smelled food, like the food Leo bought yesterday/today? I had no concept of time. It was the hummus, and it reminded me that we never ate, and my stomach was rumbling with hunger, but I also smelled a whiff of bleach—the two smells were somehow intermingled.

“Hello?” I screamed out as loudly as I could. “Is anybody there?”

I heard a low groan coming from the corner of the space—the room—wherever I was. The blackness was engulfing me. Still pitch dark. I couldn’t make anything out. “Leo?”

Another groan.

I managed to crawl until I felt a wall, and I scrambled to my feet, walking and feeling the wall at the same time. My hands frantically paced up and down—hoping to find a light switch somewhere. Then I heard a siren in the distance; my ears becoming accustomed to the tiniest sound, and something made me suspect that we were high up, in a skyscraper, perhaps. I could make out the lonely drum of traffic, maybe twenty floors below.

“Star, is that you?” It was Leo, his voice a muffle, followed by another groan like he was in pain.

“Leo, I can’t see you. Are you okay?” I wanted to rush to him, to the sound of his voice but my legs were weak, and I knew I’d collapse without the wall to hold me up.

“I think I’m okay,” he moaned. “Where are we?”

I continued to shuffle my way around the edge of the room, feeling the wall as I went. It had the same kind of surface as piano practice rooms. Soundproofed. Plywood, with little holes to bounce the sound back. Finally, I felt something. I flicked up a switch and fluorescent light flooded the room.

Leo cried out, the flash of light obviously blinding him. “Ah, Jesus, like when I came out of cell to outside.”

“Sorry.”
Cell
? Had he been in prison? I covered my hands over my eyes to stop the dazzling glare. After thirty seconds or so, I peaked out, letting light seep between my fingers—my vision had just about adjusted itself. We were in an empty office space. Black paper had been duct taped over the windows. The door was next to me. No handle. Also soundproofed. The room was bare except a double mattress, and in one corner was another door—perhaps it led to a bathroom because it
did
have a handle. Leo was doubled-up in another corner, clutching his belly as if in pain. No blood, thank God. He was naked except for his boxer briefs. More of those smudgy tattoos decorated his chest and biceps. He looked out of place—such a tough-looking guy in a position of vulnerability. I felt a pang in my solar plexus. A longing to hold him and tell him everything would be all right.

But it wasn’t alright. Not by a long shot.

I started to rush toward him, but my legs gave way and I fell down, smack on the floor. Rather than try to get up, I crawled forward and, like curious babies wanting to check each other out, he and I both made our way over to each other on our hands and knees. I practically crashed into him, wrapped my arms around his neck, tears stinging my eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

He held me close and I felt momentarily safe in his strong grip, although I knew I wasn’t. Our situation was terrifying. Both of us alone. Naked. Bruised.

But it could have been worse: at least we had each other.

For now, anyway.

He kissed my forehead and kept me clutched in his embrace. “Why sorry, Star? What fuck happened?”

“I don’t know. We were in the Lexus, in the driveway at my house, and then I blanked out. But I have an idea. It’s him; I
know
it is.”

“Who?” he asked, weakly.

“Travis, my step-brother. He wants to punish me. This is just the kind of thing he’d do.”

My eyes slid to that door again. I wriggled out of Leo’s arms and crawled along the floor. “I’m hoping that’s a bathroom,” I said. “I need to pee.”

It was. There was a basic shower, a toilet, and a sink. And, a mirror. I caught a glimpse of my reflection and shuddered. There was a massive bruise on my neck and dried blood that looked like a hickey. I’d been jabbed with a needle. Yeah, that made sense. That fucker’s favorite TV show was
Dexter
. Travis had injected us with some knock-out drug, Dexter-style. What was it that Dexter used on his victims? Travis once told me. Etorphine? Enough to knock out an elephant. Immobilize even the most dangerous animals. Vets used it. That explained why Leo had been rendered immobile and unconscious—instantly. The only chance Travis had of knocking out a guy as big and strong as Leo. I’d been waiting for something like this to happen—hence my bodyguards—although I hadn’t imagined a scenario such as this. It wasn’t the public who I’d feared but my psychotic brother, who’d had it in for me the moment he’d set eyes on me when I was five years old. He was nine at the time. Not much of a difference now, but a four-year gap was a lot between young siblings then.

Asshole.

I turned on the faucet and rinsed my face with cold water. And glugged down several mouthfuls—I was thirsty. There was a bar of soap and a couple of towels. A tube of toothpaste too, and a couple of brand new toothbrushes in their packaging. Travis’s idea of generosity probably. I slumped down on the toilet seat, pulled down my panties, and let a rush of urine flood out. I flushed the toilet, but simply sat there, my weary, aching head propped up by my hands, my elbows resting on my knees. I was exhausted.

“You okay, Star?” I heard Leo call out.

No, I wasn’t okay. Everything good in my life had come to an abrupt end. “Sure,” I yelled back through the closed door, tears welling in my eyes, wondering what Travis’s end game would be. Did he want me, literally, dead? or did he have some kind of ransom in mind?

The worst thing of all was . . .

Nobody knew we were here.

S
TILL NO WORD. I couldn’t concentrate. Six more hours had gone by and we had arrived at our cabins in the Badlands. There was no way I’d be able film anything, let alone shoot Star’s double, who had been hired at the last minute. She didn’t look like Star up close, but she had the same build, hair, and skin-tone—everything to make you do a double take (no pun intended) and make me believe that Star had returned to the set. A momentary blip. A mini relapse, perhaps. But, no. Star was good and gone, and by now, I was no longer angry or jealous, I was fucking worried.

I should have been marveling at the awesome landscape. Awesome in the true sense of the word. The extraordinary pinnacles of rainbow-colored earth and gullies, all once upon a time under water, rose up majestically in mini mountains, lit in pink and orange hues by the setting sun. I saw some bison in the far distance. All this beauty for nothing.
Where, where, where are you Star?
was all I could think, all I could feel. I missed her and longed for her sassy, smart-ass personality to come sashaying onto our “set”,
our
movie. We were partners, she and I. Partners in creation. And I wanted her to be my partner in other ways too.

I pulled out my cellphone and dialed the producer, Pearl Chevalier. There was no fucking way I could film. Not until Star was in front of that lens.

“Hi, Jake,” Pearl said, her voice quiet. “I’m so, so sorry about Star. No news from your end, obviously?”

“Not a dicky-bird,” I said. “Look there’s no way—”

“No, of course not,” Pearl cut in, “we’ll have to postpone until she returns. We’ve got people on it. We’ll find her.”

“People?”

“Yes, my husband has contacts, you know, people who are used to this sort of stuff.”

“Stuff?” My mind was a blank; I couldn’t think straight.

“Shady, off the record detective work, you know. They have ways of finding missing people.”

“So you don’t think Star’s done a runner?”

“No. She wanted this part, Jake. Badly. She’s a professional, despite her antics. I would never have hired her if I thought otherwise. Her drinking and drugs have never stopped her from being on set before. If that’s the case.”

I stood there in silence, golden rays of sun warming my closed eyes. I didn’t know what to reply.

“We’ll find her, Jake, don’t worry.”

I pressed END to stop the lump in my throat choking into tears.

I had Pearl Chevalier in my mind’s eye. A billionaire’s wife who could have practically passed for Charlize Theron’s double. A woman who had it all: wealth, power, beauty, a happy family, and didn’t need this film the way I did. Didn’t
need
Star the way I did. She was probably just trying to placate me. Make me feel as if everything would be hunky-dory when I knew we were heading into some sort of nightmare.

Because it had suddenly dawned on me:
Star Davis is a megastar
. What if some bastard had kidnapped her? Then I thought of Leo and I ruled that possibility out. No, he could have passed for one of her bodyguards and was a protective type; he wouldn’t have let anyone near her. Nothing made sense.

Nothing made
any
fucking sense.

I
LAY HUDDLED in Leo’s arms, never having needed a man so much in my entire life. After going to the bathroom, we dozed off together—the drug was doing that to us—knocking us out again soon after we woke up. At least we felt comfort in the rhythm of our breaths, glad not to be in this horror alone. Somehow, I felt safe with Leo, although I knew I wasn’t.