Breaking Stars (The Celebrity 2)

Adrenaline coursed through me, making my actions feel justified. I accepted the burst of energy as an indication that I was doing the right thing. It felt good to think of leaving, the very idea so freeing.

My head nodded to no one but my own thoughts as I entered my closet and eyed my shelves of shoes. I settled on five different pairs, all different t

ypes for different occasions. I stopped at the small painting between the rows of oak shelving and pulled it away from the wall. A small safe was tucked behind it, and I quickly spun the dial to the right and then to the left. When it clicked open, I reached for the envelope filled with cash that I kept inside, and counted out a few thousand dollars.

I wanted peace in my escape. And that meant no credit cards. My cards could be tracked, and they’d come get me and take me home before I even got away. I would pay in cash and use a fake name. And hopefully no one along the way would rat me out to the highest bidder. Knowing damn well I couldn’t leave town without letting someone know, I dialed Quinn again from my cell.

“So I was just calling to let you know that I’m all right, okay?”

“Okay,” Quinn said warily, her tone slow and questioning.

“I’m going to get out of here for a while. I need to clear my head and think about what I want for once, and I can’t do that while I’m surrounded by everyone who’s trying to think for me.” As I explained, all my thoughts made perfect sense as they spilled from my mouth.

“Where are you going?”

“I have no idea and I don’t care. I need to get away before I completely break down and you all have to check me into a mental institution.”

“Do you really think this is a good idea? It’s not safe for you to travel alone. And I don’t mean because you’re a celebrity, but because you’re a girl,” she cautioned.

I clenched my teeth as I tried to ignore the practicality that Quinn was feeding me. I didn’t want to hear any of that right now. I didn’t want to think about anything that might stop me. For once in my life, I didn’t want to plan every moment; I simply wanted to feel my way through it.

“I have pepper spray.”

“Good. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

“I won’t,” I said, almost convincing myself.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Waffling for a moment, I almost said yes. “No. This is something I need to do on my own.”

“Are you flying?”

I laughed. “No way. They’ll track my flight, show up there, and ruin my life.”

“Dramatic much?” Quinn laughed. “But you’re right. They will.” She sucked in a breath. “Hey, do me a favor, though, before you go, okay? Just send everyone a quick e-mail letting them know you’re out of town. If you don’t give them some sort of heads-up, they’ll put a freaking APB out on you. They’ll have every town in America searching for you, Paige. You have to at least try to keep the peace, or they’ll make it so you can’t go anywhere without the world knowing.”

My free hand balled into a fist as my nails dug into my palm. “You’re right. Okay. I’ll send an e-mail. And I’ll call you when I get to wherever I’m going.”

“Don’t forget that they can track your cell too. I don’t want you to fall off the grid completely, Paige, but if this is something you really need to do, then I support you.”

“Thank you, Quinn. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Just be safe, please. You’re too damn naive and trusting. Try to be more like me on this trip, okay?”

I could hear the smile in her voice as she gave me advice, knowing full well I could never be as tough as she was. I hung up without even saying good-bye, then opened up an app on my phone and composed an e-mail to my manager, publicist, and agent, making sure I’d copied my family and Quinn.

I’m sending you this e-mail to let you know that I’m all right. I need to get out of town for a little while, so I’ve left. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but please don’t come look for me. Please let me have this time to sort out my thoughts and find my footing. I need to be away from this town, this environment, and everyone in it until I can get my head right. Please understand.

I paused, feeling the desperation in my words, and knew I needed to end this e-mail with strength. Remembering that my agent, manager, and publicist worked for me—and not the other way around—I packed my closing punch.

If you come looking for me, you’ll only make this worse and I’ll stay away longer. Let me contact you when I’m ready, and not the other way around.

Before I could second-guess myself or change my mind, I clicked Send. Nerves fluttered down my spine, but I pretended not to acknowledge them, not wanting to give them any power over me or my actions. Grabbing my packed bag and wad of cash, I headed out the door as quickly as I came in it. If I wasted any more time, they’d show up here and stop me before I could get out of the area code.

After jumping into my car, I drove onto the nearest freeway on-ramp I could find. I knew that this particular road would take me all the way to Florida if I let it. And at that point, I didn’t care. Anywhere would be better than here.

Is It Hot Out Here?