Page 24 of Infamous


  A soft, lilting tune drifted through the speakers, as a voice that had obviously been disguised warmly addressed her. “Hello, Madison. So happy you decided to join us.”

  Madison turned toward the camera and stared back in defiance.

  “In the interest of full disclosure, you’re being filmed. I’m sure your many fans will enjoy watching this footage of you. Why don’t you give a little wave and a quick hello? They’ve all been so worried about you.”

  Madison continued to stare. They could kidnap her, put her in a box, destroy her reputation, and film her, but she wasn’t some performing monkey. She would not obey their every demand.

  “I know who you are,” she said.

  The voice laughed. “Indeed you do. Care to share it with the world?”

  Madison started to put a voice to the name, then just as quickly decided against it. It was part of the trap, and if she had any hope of winning, she needed to play smarter than that. She’d underestimated them for too long, but no more. She assumed they were in possession of her gun, and there was nothing more dangerous than an armed person with nothing left to lose.

  “Well then, let’s get started, shall we? Just so you know, the gang’s all here. At the moment you’re separated by the walls that surround you. Only these walls aren’t quite as permanent as they appear. If you’re willing to play a little game, you have the chance of reuniting with your friends. But the rules demand you tell the truth. If you choose to lie, I’m afraid you’ll be punished. Before we get started, let me introduce you to your host, Trena Moretti! Trena can see all of you, but you can only see the images I choose to share. So tell me, are you ready?”

  Madison took a deep breath and nodded imperceptibly.

  “Okay then. Trena Moretti—take it away!”

  Madison watched as the picture on the wall shifted to an image of Trena sitting in some sort of control room, looking distressed. She stared into the camera, then consulted the paper propped before her and said, “Madison—I’m so sorry that—”

  Her mic was cut as the disguised voice broke in and said, “It’s better for everyone if you stick to the script.”

  Trena squared her shoulders, looked into the camera, and said, “Madison, do you know why you’re here?”

  Madison nodded, then faced the camera. “I was abducted.”

  Trena looked at someone off screen, then returned to Madison. “There’s a theory you planned your disappearance. Is that true?”

  Madison stared at the camera, unsure how to answer. She had planned an elaborate disappearance, but then she got abducted before she could act on it. Still, it wouldn’t do to give in so early. At least for now, she needed to stay defiant.

  “No,” she said. “I was abducted, and you know that because—”

  Before she could finish, the voice shouted, “Wrong! Wrong answer, Madison.”

  The next thing she knew, the whole room went dark, as an earsplitting shriek emanated from the walls.

  FORTY

  RING OF FIRE

  Aster was in full-blown panic mode. Her cell signal was dead, and as far as she could tell after relentlessly banging her fists against the walls, there was no way out of the space she was stuck in.

  When the lights suddenly dimmed and Trena Moretti’s face was projected onto the wall, Aster screamed, “Please, help me! Get me out of here—now!”

  “She can’t hear you.”

  Aster spun in circles, trying to determine where the voice was coming from.

  “She can only hear what I want her to hear. Also, just so you know, you’re being filmed. This is going out on a live feed. So you might want to pull yourself together and try to look a little more presentable. Your panicked face isn’t nearly as pretty as your usual face.”

  For the first time since she’d entered the room, Aster noticed the camera in the upper right corner pointing at her.

  “What do you want?”

  She glanced between the wall and the camera.

  “I want you to tell the truth.”

  “About what?”

  “About whatever we ask. If you do, you’ll be richly rewarded. If you don’t . . . what’s the opposite of richly rewarded? Poorly punished?”

  “Where’s Ryan?”

  “Somewhere. Hard to say where exactly.”

  “What have you done with him?”

  “All in good time. Now please, your attention on Trena. She has something to ask.”

  Aster turned toward Trena, who looked tense. If nothing else, it was a relief to know she had not volunteered for this—whatever this was. Clearly, it wasn’t exactly the soft opening Trena had expected. Aster knew Ira would stop at nothing for free publicity, but this was way out of line, even for him.

  “Trena, go ahead. Ask Aster the question on the script before you.”

  Trena consulted the page, then looked at the screen and said, “Are you still a virgin?”

  Aster stared incredulously. “What kind of junior-high bullshit is this?”

  “Language! You’re being filmed, and there’s a good chance your parents are watching, so—let’s try that again. Answer the question, please.”

  Aster dropped her head in her hands. Her parents were watching? Great. After all the pain she’d put them through, it was about to get even worse.

  She looked at Trena and said, “No. Not anymore.”

  Immediately, the bench where she sat began to warm, along with the rest of the room, which up until that point had been unbearably cold.

  “Very good. See how this works? Who knows, another correct answer might connect you with Ryan. So, Trena, what say you?”

  Trena took a deep breath, then looked at Aster. “This one’s about your little brother, Javen.”

  Aster held her breath.

  “Is he gay?”

  Aster closed her eyes. This was insane. When she opened them again, she looked directly into the camera and said, “This is bullshit. I demand you open this door right now and let me out of here. Or so help me God I will—”

  “You will what exactly?” The voice laughed. “Save your empty threats. I’m in charge. You’re captive. I’ve shown you the way out. Now it’s up to you whether or not you decide to take it by answering the question. Is your little brother, Javen, gay?”

  Aster closed her eyes and lowered her chin to her chest.

  “We’re waiting. . . .”

  Aster lifted her gaze, stared into the camera, and said, “No. No, he’s not.”

  “Hmmmm . . . not sure that’s a correct answer,” the voice said. “Just to give your memory a nudge, I’m going to project two pictures onto the wall that only you can see. It’s up to you to decide which secret goes out into the world.”

  Aster stared in dismay. One side of the wall featured a picture of Javen kissing a boy she recognized as his friend Dylan.

  The other side showed a still from the video clip of Aster taking off her clothes and dancing seductively the night she went missing.

  “You get to decide which one, but if you don’t answer in the next five seconds, then they’ll both be released.”

  Superimposed over the pictures was the image of a countdown clock. Aster watched in grief as the numbers counted down from five . . . four . . . three . . . She closed her eyes.

  Please forgive me. . . .

  She opened them again, and said, “Me. Share the one of me.”

  “You sure about that? Once it’s out, there’s no taking it back, and I can guarantee it’ll go viral.”

  Aster nodded. Her throat clogged with tears, she was unable to speak.

  “As you wish . . .”

  The next thing she knew, the lights turned back on and the wall went blank.

  FORTY-ONE

  HEARTLESS

  Someone was on the other side of the wall, in the next room. She could hear the faint echo of a voice raised in anger. Despite their obvious panic, it gave Layla hope. She wasn’t as alone as she felt.

  “Hey, I’m here!” She s
houted the words as loud as she could. “Can you hear me?”

  Out of nowhere a voice said, “Not only can I hear you, but I can see you as well.”

  Layla spun around and searched for the source.

  “Hello, Layla. I must say you look lovely tonight. Thanks for making the effort. You’ve come a long way from the girl who once wore knockoff shoes and rode a secondhand bike.”

  “What do you want? Who are you?”

  “You were always the most impatient. The most straightforward, and, I grudgingly admit, the smartest. But if you still don’t know who I am, then I guess you’re not as smart as I thought.”

  Layla frowned. The voice was disguised in a way that made it impossible to tell if it was male or female. But the word choice leaned toward female, especially the part about knockoff shoes. Only a girl would use that as an insult. Then again, Ira might do so as well.

  “I want you to play a little game with me. Please direct your attention to the wall directly in front of you.”

  Layla did as instructed and was surprised to find Trena staring right back.

  “Your host for tonight’s show should be familiar. After all, you recently broke into her apartment, didn’t you?”

  Trena looked startled. Layla froze.

  “Well, didn’t you?”

  “No.” Layla shook her head.

  “Aw, but I’m one hundred percent sure you did. Lying will not work in your favor, I can promise you that. So let’s try again.”

  “I didn’t break in,” Layla said, unsure just how much to reveal. Considering she had no idea what this was about, she didn’t know how far she could push it. “Someone let me in.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  She searched Trena’s face for a sign of what was really going on. Her gaze was pained, and she moved her shoulder in a way that hinted she might be restrained.

  “Still waiting . . . ,” the voice said, exaggerating each word.

  Trena gave a subtle nod, and Layla stared into the camera. “I convinced Javen to lure Trena out of her apartment so I could go through her files.” Layla made an apologetic face, but Trena was under too much duress to notice, much less care.

  “And why would you do that?”

  “Because I suspected her of hiding evidence.”

  “And was she?”

  Layla rubbed her lips together, buying a few seconds of time. “Yes,” she said, figuring that whoever was asking the questions already knew the answers anyway.

  “And what did you find?”

  “The name of the man who went to jail for killing Madison’s parents.”

  “I like how you phrased that. Just like a journalist—facts without judgment. So tell me, do you think this man killed Madison’s parents?”

  Layla sensed the answer they wanted, but she just wasn’t sure what she believed.

  “Let the record show that Layla shrugged. So, is it safe to say you think Gerald Rawlins might be innocent of the crime?”

  “I can’t say for sure,” Layla said. “I wasn’t there.”

  “Aw, but you know who was there, don’t you?”

  Layla looked at Trena, who so far hadn’t spoken a word. “Madison was there. Also Paul.”

  “Do you think it’s possible that Madison did it? That Madison Brooks shot her own parents, and not Gerald Rawlins, even though he went to jail for the crime?”

  The voice was disguised, but there was no doubt it was veering toward hysterical. Hoping to temper the mood, Layla took a deep breath and said, “Let’s just say that under the right circumstances, I think anyone is capable of just about anything.”

  Layla locked eyes with Trena, the wall went blank, and next thing she knew, the wall had slid open a crack, allowing her access to the adjoining room.

  FORTY-TWO

  CARELESS WHISPER

  The second Tommy saw Layla, he pulled her into his arms. “You okay?” he whispered, smoothing a hand over her hair. When she nodded, he said, “I know who’s behind this. I know who it is.”

  He was about to tell her when a voice shot through the speakers and said, “Everyone loves a good love story. You two are sure to be a crowd favorite, but try to keep it G-rated, okay? People are watching.”

  Layla pulled away and dabbed at her eyes, then turned toward the wall bearing an image of Trena’s face.

  “Layla,” Trena said, “you did a great job. But now I’m afraid it’s Tommy’s turn.”

  Tommy glanced worriedly at Layla, then turned back to Trena.

  “Why did you move to LA?”

  “Change of scene.” He kept his voice unaffected and easy.

  “What else?”

  “To follow my dream.”

  “This is all very inspiring,” the disguised voice cut in. “But allow me to remind you exactly what’s at stake here.”

  On the wall, superimposed over Trena, was a picture of Tommy standing outside the Vesper the night Madison went missing.

  He looked at the camera and said, “I don’t give a crap about that. Madison’s alive. You can’t touch me now.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “That Madison’s alive? Absolutely. I can prove it.”

  “So you’re admitting to withholding evidence? Because if Detective Larsen’s not already watching, he will be soon enough.”

  Tommy shrugged. “Then all I have to do is wait until he gets here and puts an end to this bullshit.”

  “Wow, you’re really sexy when you go all alpha like that.” The voice laughed. “You know who it reminds me of?”

  Tommy froze.

  “From the look on your face, you do.”

  Tommy closed his eyes, mumbled under his breath. He’d already decided against telling Ira, and now he was being forced to do it in the worst way imaginable.

  “Let’s try this again. Why’d you move to LA, Tommy?”

  He stared into the camera and clamped his lips shut, refusing to speak.

  “Who’s your daddy, Tommy? C’mon, you can tell us.”

  Layla nudged him. She was right, of course, but this wasn’t the way he wanted it to happen.

  “I came to LA to try to break into the music business.”

  “And . . .”

  Tommy swiped a hand through his hair. Layla stood alongside him and gave his hand a squeeze. “And to meet my dad . . .” Tommy stalled. In the next breath, he said, “Ira Redman.”

  The lights flickered on and off, and the next thing they knew, another wall had slid open.

  FORTY-THREE

  SLEEP NOW IN THE FIRE

  Aster glanced up from Ryan’s arms to see Layla and Tommy standing in the doorway. “I’m ruined,” she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Even if I make it out of here, it’s over for me. How will I ever hold my head up high, or face my family?”

  Ryan pulled her closer as the voice crackled through the speakers. “Wow, this is really, truly touching. It warms my heart to see everyone reunited like this. In fact, I’m having so much fun watching y’all, let’s check in on your other friend, shall we?”

  An image of Madison blazed on the wall. She was curled up on the floor with her hands pressed tightly over her ears. Although the sound was muted, whatever she was listening to was clearly unbearable.

  “You can help lessen her agony by answering one simple question.”

  Aster braced for the worst. If it was about her brother again, she wasn’t sure she could help. Javen would always be her first priority, no matter what.

  “Since we have all the couples gathered, I’m going to turn my focus to romance. As a reminder, if you choose to lie, Madison will pay. Take it away, Trena!”

  Trena gazed dully at the camera and said, “Ryan, did you ever love Madison?”

  Aster immediately dropped his hand. She didn’t want him to feel any sort of pressure coming from her. This had nothing to do with them. Whoever was behind this was trying to upset his fans.

  Without hesitation, he said, “No, not really.”


  “Did you ever cheat on Madison?”

  This time he hesitated, but only for a handful of seconds, before he said, “Yes.”

  “How many times?”

  He took a breath, rubbed a hand across his jaw. “A couple—few times.”

  “And was one of those times with Heather Rollins?”

  Ryan closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. When he opened them again, he chanced a sideways glance at Aster, who urged him to go ahead. Staring directly into the camera, he said, “Yes.”

  “How many times did you cheat with Heather Rollins?”

  Ryan shook his head. “I don’t know. Once, twice maybe?” He shrugged. “It meant nothing, okay? Heather, if you’re watching, or somehow behind this, it meant nothing!”

  “Did you tell her she was hot, beautiful, irresistible? Did you tell her she had a rockin’ bod and you liked screwing her more than you liked screwing Madison?”

  “What the—?” Ryan looked pained. He glanced at Aster, his gaze pleading for forgiveness. “It was before you,” he whispered.

  “Yes, yes, it was before Aster,” the voice cut in. “Just answer the question, please! Did you, or did you not, tell Heather Rollins that screwing Madison made you feel like a necrophiliac, because she was so cold and stiff it was like doing a dead person?”

  Ryan emptied his lungs of air and said, “I never said that. I would never say a thing like that. I didn’t hate Madison. I just wasn’t in love with her. I don’t know where you’re getting this nonsense, but—”

  “Relax.” The voice laughed. “Let the record show I was having a bit of fun. Let it also show that you went after Heather a few times, so you must’ve liked that first taste more than you’re willing to admit.”

  Furious, Ryan swung toward the camera. “Let it also show that I didn’t go after her. She came after me. The only reason I went along was because Madison wasn’t all that into me and I guess I felt lonely. The only reason Heather went after me was because she wanted to possess whatever Madison had.”