Chapter Forty-Four Los Angeles
Piper packed in minutes. Jeans, t-shirts, hoodie, the Britney Spears memoir he had never read. No suit or blazer. Nothing he would have packed for Atherton.
He zipped the Gucci duffle. He turned off the lamp and raced downstairs.
Joan, where the fuck could they be taking me? Like I have not already been through enough. Jesus Christ.
Vivienne was on her phone in the kitchen.
She was speaking quietly. She had her coat on. Her Birkin was on the counter, the Glock poking out.
Tank went to the side door. He looked out the window.
He said, “Car’s at the corner.”
Vivienne hung up.
“You have everything, Piper? Give me your phone.”
She removed the SIM and put it in an envelope.
“Wifi only. No email, no social media, you can basically only use Spotify.”
“Okay,” Piper replied.
“Okay.”
She picked up her purse.
She looked at Piper.
“Walk to the corner. Ignore the media vans. If someone talks to you, ignore them. Do not stop walking.”
“I understand.”
They went out the side door.
The walkway emptied onto the street thirty feet from the corner where the Suburban was waiting. It was the longest thirty feet of Piper’s adult life.
They got to the street and the crowd saw them.
Four cameramen, two photographers, a reporter, the TMZ live-stream guy. They saw Piper and turned.
Piper kept walking.
The Suburban door was open, and they got in. The driver was already moving.
They pulled away. The cameramen ran after them and stopped out of breath.
The Suburban turned right at the end of the block. Piper let his head fall back against the headrest.
He closed his eyes.
He felt Vivienne next to him. He felt Tank’s shoulder against his on the right.
His body had a kind of detached clarity that arrived after a hit.
Piper had spent so long inside Jayson’s logistical envelope that the absence of it, when the absence arrived, landed hard.
“You okay, Piper? I know you’re not, but you know I have to ask,” Vivienne asked.
“I will survive,” Piper replied with a wink.
“Jet is waiting. Van Nuys airport, wheels up at four,” the driver said.
“Where’s the jet going?” Piper asked.
“I will tell you on the jet.”
He closed his eyes.
The drive to Van Nuys was quick and Piper spent most of it with his eyes closed.
At one point he said, without opening his eyes, “He’s going to do it, anyway.”
Vivienne paused her typing. “Who?”
“Jayson. He’s going to do the things he said he was going to do.”
Vivienne said, “Piper, I told you we will handle it.”
“So this doesn’t end it.”
“No.”
“So what does this do?” Piper asked.
“This gets you out of his reach while we build the case. This gets you time. This gets you across an ocean while Henry Weiss finishes the legal architecture I don’t have the time to explain to you right now.
This puts you in a place where Jayson won’t think to look.
This is a move on a chessboard. It is the best move I have, but honey, I will tell you the next move when I have it,” Vivienne said.
“Okay, I trust you Viv,” Piper said.
“Piper, it’s all going to be okay,” Tank said, placing his hand on Piper’s neck and squeezing gently.
“Easy for you to say, you’re not facing a fucking mob of angry incels on Reddit and X. And on top of that a psycho fucking billionaire.”
“Fair enough. By the way, I won’t be on the flight. I need to take care of Jamal.”
Piper didn’t know what to say. Tank waited.
“Jamal.”
“Yeah. Jamal.”
“Tell him…” Piper paused.
“Tell him what?”
“Tell him… Tell him I said thank you.”
Tank looked at him. “For what?”
“For driving out in the Honda.”
Tank was quiet briefly.
Then he said, “I’ll tell him.”
The Suburban rolled through the terminal gate.
At the jet, Tank got out first. He pulled Piper into one of the short, hard hugs guys like Tank Jefferson gave other guys, slapped the back of his head, smacked his ass and walked back to the terminal.
“Don’t forget I love you, bro,” Tank said without looking back.
“Go. Put your things on the plane, I’m not carrying your shit,” Vivienne demanded as Piper watched Tank walk back to the terminal.
He went up the airstairs.
The Gulfstream was empty and large. The front cabin was spotless.
Angel Of The Morning by Juice Newton was playing over the plane’s speakers.
“Viv, what the fuck is this music?” Piper said as he walked down the aisle.
Piper noticed something sitting.
A Louis Vuitton duffle was on one of the seats. Piper walked down the aisle to the bedroom at the back. The bedroom door was closed.
He put his hand on the handle. He opened the door.