Page 2 of Rockstar Untamed
“My dearest Sailor, your womanhood is fast approaching, and to me, it seems the perfect time for us to become one. Your birthday will serve as our wedding day, do you understand?”
She nodded, the fear inside overwhelming her ability to speak. Bart smiled and touched her cheek. “Good. Now, I’m afraid we have to deal with a little unpleasantness before you go. As you know, I take my role here very seriously, and in choosing you as my wife, I need you to be an ambassador for us all.” He paused, studying her. “You were very close to Clotilde, I know. She betrayed all of us, Sailor.Allof us. Her punishment…well…”
He picked up a folder and handed it to her. “I’m going to leave you alone here for a few minutes to study what’s in that folder. When I return, this matter will be closed. This is what happens when my women betray me, Sailor, understand? That’s the only reason why I’m showing you these photographs.”
Sailor nodded again. “Good girl. I’ll leave you alone.”
He left his office and Sailor heard the lock being clicked from outside. She opened the folder, feeling nausea rise up in her, and a small moan of despair escaped her as she looked at the first photograph. Tilly looked terrified as the two men in the picture held her down, obviously making sure the photographer got a good shot of her. The next photograph made Sailor cry out. The knife was buried deep in Tilly’s stomach, and her face was contorted in agony. Sailor was trembling as she looked through every photograph of Tilly’s murder, each one more stark and brutal than the last. The last image broke Sailor and she whimpered in despair. There was another man now, strapped down to a chair, gagged and bound, his face contorted with grief as he gazed down at his dead sweetheart’s body. Tilly’s lover. They’d made him watch while they killed her. Sailor started to cry. Bart’s meaning was obvious.Step out of line and you die.
It was at that moment that Sailor knew she had to risk everything and escape the only life she had ever known.
Monica was chatting with the saleswoman in the wedding shop. She was used to Monica and Sailor coming now, Sailor had deliberately been picky over her choice, giving herself time to check out the fitting rooms, and any potential escape routes. She’d nearly been foiled by Monica insisting on accompanying her to the fitting rooms. Sailor had used her only weapon, she was Bart’s chosen one. “I don’t think,” she’d told Monica knowingly, “that Bart would be too pleased that you laid eyes on my body before the wedding. I amhis, Monica, and his alone.”
Her implied threat hit the mark, and Monica let her change alone. Sailor was careful, never taking too long between changes to reappear but still, she managed to figure out the layout of the store.
Now, she could barely wait.Careful. Careful.She took her time choosing then took the dress with her. It was a huge, completely inappropriate choice, layers and layers of tulle that she would never wear in a million years, but Sailor knew what she was doing. The shirt she was wearing today was too big, plaid and her combat pants. In the many pockets, she had stashed the money she had been saving for the last three months, squirreled away and stolen from the commune’s money cache, a little at a time. Her birth certificate, with only her mother identified on it, and social security number, and any other thing she found in Bart’s office that terrible day, that she could use. She even had a small penknife, tucked in the back pocket of her pants. In all, she only had a couple of hundred dollars, but it was enough for a bus ticket. After that, she’d figure something out.
Monica didn’t even blink as Sailor walked toward the fitting rooms, calling back to her, “I won’t be a sec.”
Monica smirked. That atrocity that Sailor was carrying would take more than a ‘sec’ to change into.Stupid little whore.Lording it over her like she was some special kind of shit.Look how that worked out for Tilly, bitch.She turned back to the saleswoman, who knew all about the commune, all about Bart’s proclivities. Monica had told her all about them one night in bed. The girl, Bettina, had been a good, inexperienced, lay and Monica wouldn’t mind another go around.
The alarm started screeching through the shop, and both women said. “What thefuck?”
“The fire escape door,” Bettina looked terrified as Monica cursed loudly and drew out a blade, darting towards the fitting rooms.
“Fucking bitch…” She saw the fire escape door standing wide open, and the wedding dress dumped in the doorway. “Fucking whore bitch cunt!”Monica screamed, racing down the corridor and around the corner towards the exit, Bettina close behind her. They both trod on the dress in their eagerness to get out, but Sailor had ripped the tulle to shreds, and their feet got caught, tangled, and they both fell. Bettina shrieked as Monica’s knife came way too close to her neck.
“Shut up, you stupid bitch,” Monica sliced away at the fabric, trying to free them. Out of the fire escape, they could see the parking lot, and Monica raked it with her eyes, trying to spot Sailor.
Sailor dropped from the top of the fitting room wall and slid silently into the main room. Inspiration striking, she went to the register, hoping against hope that some rich musketry-muck had paid with cash. She was in luck. She scooped a wad of twenties out of the register, raking every note and coin in there into her pocket. Listening intently to make sure she could still hear Monica cursing away in the back, she quickly took stock and grabbed the wigs from the mannequins in the window. In a high-end store like this, they used real human hair wigs, and she could use them to disguise herself and then sell them. She stuffed them all into a plastic bag and then she was free. Running to the exit of the mall and out into the Florida sunshine, she flagged down a cab and asked the driver to take her to the bus station. In a half-hour, she was on the bus, hunched down, hiding…
And breathing freely for the first time in her young life.
Los Angeles, six months later…
Bodhi ate a piece of toast half-heartedly as he watched his son push his cereal around his bowl. “Kiddo, that will get all mushy if you do that.”
“I like it mushy.”
Bodhi sighed. Well, at least Tim was speaking to him now. “Okay, then.”
Tim glanced at his father briefly, then looked away when Bodhi met his gaze. “Can I go to school now?”
Bodhi nodded, not knowing what else to do. Since, Gemma had left Tim with him, this had been their routine. Tim, thankfully, had settled into his new school happily, but at home…
At home, Bodhi thought, bitterly,it’s been a Cold War.Tim hadn’t taken to him at all. He was rude, silent, and resentful. Bodhi knew Tim blamed him for his mother leaving him, but Bodhi had no idea what else to do. Poppy, his assistant, had suddenly quit, telling him she was sorry but looking after a kid hadn’t been in the job description.
“It’s just not my jam, Bodhi, I’m sorry.”
Since then, Tim had seen off two childminders and one English tutor. Bodhi had canceled gigs, interviews, recording sessions to try and bond with his son, but nothing was working. Tim was vastly unimpressed with his father’s musical friends, couldn’t care less about the instruments Bodhi played. Even the priceless grand piano in the living room held no interest. Tim kept to his room, his vast-well-stocked-with-everything-a-boy-could-need room, and didn’t even explore the pool or the grounds of Bodhi’s luxurious Hollywood Hills mansion.
Bodhi got into the driver’s seat of his RAV4 and they began another silent drive to Tim’s school. Gemma had insisted that Tim had the best education and Bodhi, ignoring the fact she was making demands while asking an enormous favor, agreed. God, he would doanythingfor his son. He knew that the moment Gemma had brought Tim into his life. He just wished he could feel like anything but a deadbeat dad.
, “Hey, kiddo? What say we go shopping for a new laptop for you this weekend?”
Tim looked at him with those huge green eyes even wider. “Really?”
“Really.”
