Page 55 of Stolen Voices

“You got it. See you tomorrow, my boy.” I can hear the smile on my dad’s lips as we spout another round of goodbyes before hanging up.

I’m still in my car when the dashboard lights up again with a 323 area code phone number I don’t recognize. Something about the timing of the call has me answering.

“This is Eli,” I answer.

“E, bro. You’re gonna want to get down here for this.” The booming, deep voice of an old friend fills the car. One I haven’t heard in a while. Not since he helped me with a client ages ago, when he was a bouncer down at the clubs at night and attending stunt school during the day.

“Boone?” I ask.

“Yeah, sorry. I, uh, forgot I changed my number.” His pause has me thinking there’s a story there.

Another time.

“All good. So, what’s this all about? I need to be where?”

The loud baseline from the music in the background switches to a faster tempo, and he shouts over the sound, “Catch-22. The new club in Hollywood.”

“I thought you weren’t bouncing anymore now that I got you those stunt jobs…”

Wait.My heart stops.

Catch-22?Oh, fuck no.Please don’t say it.

“Your girl is here. That singer chick from those teen movies. She’s your client, right?”

Why couldn’t this day just fucking end already?

“Yeah, she’s mine.”

Mine.One word that feels so right and sounds so wrong.

“She’s in one of the private rooms with a group of people I don’t know, but if they leave the room, I can’t help her. There are paparazzi here, man. What should I do?”

“Just keep an eye on her, but don’t let her know you’re watching. I’m on my way.”

fifteen

Eli

I’msurprisedIdidn’tget pulled over by the cops for speeding the entire way from Santa Monica to Hollywood.

I don’t know if it was the anger or worry that had me pressing down on the gas, but as I pull my car into the alley behind the club where Boone directed me to park, I’m fuming.

Why the fuck did Callie come here?She was supposed to go home.

I fly out of my car like an enraged monster, ready to destroy anything in my path to get to her.

A hulking dude in a black suit, with a buzz cut, opens the back door for me. “Can I help you?”

“Boone called me,” is all I can grind out. My chest heaves like I’ve just run a marathon, and adrenaline courses through my system, turning me into a furious animal.

“Miller?”

I nod.

“Come on in. I’ll lead you back.” The bouncer’s earpiece crackles. He presses the device into his ear, listening to whoever is on the other line. “Heard.” He turns to me, and I just fucking know.

I clench my fists, barely containing my rage. The bouncer’s lips purse as he takes in my state. I probably look like the beast I feel like right now, with fangs bared, bracing for what I’m about to hear.