Lost in Las Vegas (21 page)

“Since the rape.”

“But we still don’t know much about this place,” said DJ quietly. “Or Terrence. I mean, he seems nice. But I only met him this morning. What if — ”

“We’re in luck,” said Terrence as he rejoined them.

“Room at the inn?” asked Taylor.

“Yep. Marlin said to go to the website and fill out the forms as soon as you can.”

“No time like now.” Taylor stood. “My mom has a laptop upstairs.” She stuck out her hand to shake Terrence’s. “Thanks for your help.”

Terrence smiled as he grasped her hand. “DJ’s got my number. Maybe we can stay in touch. I’d like to hear how this goes for you.”

“Well, you’ll know where to find me.”

“That’s right.” He let go of her hand, then turned to DJ. “Sorry if this caught you off guard. That’s usually the way stuff like this goes down. Unexpectedly.”

“Yeah . . . I guess.”

“Come on,” urged Taylor, grabbing DJ’s arm. “I need to get to work on this.”

So they hurried back to the suite, and Taylor disappeared into her mom’s room while DJ paced and prayed. Finally, she called Rhiannon. “Sorry, I’m calling so late,” she apologized.

“What’s up?”

DJ quickly filled in Rhiannon and, to her relief, Rhiannon didn’t seem too alarmed. “That’s great.”

“But we don’t know anything about this place.”

“Taylor’s not stupid,” said Rhiannon. “I mean, she does some pretty dumb stuff, but I can’t imagine she’ll go someplace that’s messed up. And won’t her mom check it out too?”

“Actually, they’ve had some experience with rehab places,” admitted DJ. “Her dad goes to Betty Ford pretty regularly.”

“So you don’t need to worry.”

“I guess.”

“Be thankful, DJ. It sounds like this is exactly what Taylor needs. See, God was at work. He is at work.”

So DJ thanked Rhiannon and hung up. Surely, she was right. Besides, it’s not like Taylor was DJ’s personal responsibility. But for some reason DJ felt like she was. It’s like DJ had invested herself in Taylor. She obviously cared about what happened to her. Besides Eva, DJ probably cared more than anyone.

DJ flopped down on the sectional and threw herself into a desperate prayer for Taylor. She asked God to take control, and — if this was a good thing, the right thing — she asked God to open the door to the rehab place. “But if it’s wrong,” prayed DJ, “please, please, please, close that door, lock it, and throw away the key!”

“I filled in the forms,” announced Taylor when she finally emerged from her mom’s room. “I hit Send.” She gave DJ a nervous smile. “Now I just need to talk to my mom.”

“You’re sure about this place?” asked DJ. “I mean, I totally agree that you need rehab — I mean, after what you said. But you’re sure this is the right place?”

Taylor’s brow creased slightly. “It’s hard to explain . . . but it sort of feels right. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah . . . I guess.”

But suddenly Taylor was pacing, as if she wasn’t so sure. DJ noticed her hands were shaking.

“Taylor . . . are you okay?”

Taylor turned and looked at DJ. “You mean besides craving a drink right now?”

“Is that what’s troubling you?”

Taylor closed her eyes and clenched her fists, then nodded.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Could we just go down and get — ”

Just then the door opened, and Eva came in. “Oh, you girls aren’t out tonight?” she asked as she tossed her bag into a chair, kicked off her shoes, and then collapsed next to DJ on the sectional. “Anyone hungry?”

“We were just about to go down for something.” Taylor grabbed up her bag and looked at DJ. “You coming?”

DJ didn’t know what to do, but taking Taylor out to drink seemed like a bad idea. “Don’t you want to tell your mom something,” said DJ quickly.

“What’s going on?” asked Eva.

“Nothing.” Taylor was making her way to the door now.

“Taylor,” said DJ in a firm voice. “Tell your mom what’s going on.”

Taylor looked angry now, and DJ knew this could easily go sideways. She shot up a quick prayer.

“What is it, sweetie?” asked Eva in a kind voice. “Is something wrong?”

Taylor came back over and dropped her bag on the floor, then slumped into a chair directly across from them. “I don’t know.”

“What?” persisted Eva.

Taylor leaned her head back and closed her eyes, emitting a long, weary sigh. “DJ?” she muttered. “Can you tell her?”

Eva turned to stare at DJ now. “What’s going on?”

“Well . . .” DJ tried to think of where to begin. “I think you know that Taylor drinks.”

“Yes?” Eva glanced nervously at Taylor, who was still slumped back with eyes closed. “Did she get into trouble?”

“No.” DJ shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Oh.” Eva looked relieved.

“But she will get into trouble,” continued DJ, “if she doesn’t get help.”

“But she doesn’t want help,” said Eva.

“Maybe she didn’t before . . . but she does now.”

Taylor sat up and stared at her mom. “Let’s cut to the chase. I registered myself to go into rehab. It’s an inpatient treatment center outside of LA. They have an opening now, and if you give permission, I can enter tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Eva blinked, then turned to DJ. “Did you set this up?”

“No.”

“I set it up, Mom. I met a guy — through DJ — and he told me about this place, and it just clicked. I knew that I needed help.”

“Really?” Eva looked stunned and not entirely pleased. Or maybe she simply was reacting the same way DJ had done.

“Or, if everyone thinks this is a bad idea,” said Taylor in an aggravated tone. “I could just go downstairs and get drunk!” She stood and picked up her bag.

“No!” Eva stood. “Stop, Taylor!”

“Because it sounds a lot easier to me.” Taylor was twisting the strap of her bag in her hands now. “And maybe I’m not as messed up as some people think. Maybe I’m just fine. I mean I was functioning. I get good grades. I’m — ”

“No!” declared DJ. “I saw you sick as a dog this morning, wrapped around the toilet, barfing your brains out. And it’s not the first time. Taylor, you told me that you drink daily — morning, noon, and night!”

Eva looked stunned. “Really?”

“Tell your mother the truth, Taylor.”

“It’s true. What DJ said.”

“Oh . . . my!” Eva grabbed hold of the armchair as if to support her from falling.

“And it sounds like this is the best time to get into rehab,” pointed out DJ. “Before New Year’s.”

Eva nodded. “That’s true. I know this for a fact because of Taylor’s father.”

“You’re right,” said Taylor. “You’re both right. But I need a drink so bad right now that I can’t even see straight. I’m leaving!”

“No!” insisted Eva.

Now DJ stood. She went over to stand by Taylor. “Don’t go,” she pleaded.

“I
need
a drink,” seethed Taylor.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” said Eva suddenly. “I’ll order room service. And I’ll order you a drink or two, but you have to stay here.”

Taylor seemed to be considering this.

“I’ll call my manager, and he can arrange for your travel tomorrow. I’ll do whatever I need to do to get you into the rehab place.”

“But can I,
please
, have something to drink?” Taylor looked pitiful, like a child begging for candy.

“Yes, if you stay.”

“And,” added DJ, “if you hand over your fake ID.”

Taylor looked alarmed now.

“That’s right,” said Eva. “If you want a drink, you need to show me your ID.”

Taylor quickly produced the card and reluctantly handed it to her mom. Then DJ talked her into putting on sweats while Eva ordered up food and drinks.

It was a long night, but by the time it was over, it seemed all was in place for Taylor to travel to LA the next day. Because flights were booked, Eva’s manager had arranged for Eva’s tour bus to take Taylor. Then Taylor begged for DJ to go with her and return to Las Vegas on the same bus. She said she couldn’t do it alone. And DJ was actually eager to go. She wanted to make sure that the rehab place was legit and not some weird cult.

But when the wake-up call came at five a.m., DJ wasn’t so sure. Getting Taylor up and ready to travel was no easy task. By six they were packed and loaded onto the bus, which was actually very nice. The bus was barely on the road when both girls tumbled into the king-size bed and slept for several more hours.

By midafternoon, the bus pulled through a set of locking gates in front of what looked like an old hotel, positioned pleasantly by the ocean.

“Not bad,” said DJ as they went inside.

“I guess.” Taylor’s hands were really shaking now. DJ suspected that Taylor wanted to make a run for it. Well, there was nothing DJ could do if she did. And for all DJ knew, she might make a run for it before the day ended.

DJ handed over the paperwork that Eva had given her, then she hugged Taylor and told her she loved her. After that Taylor was escorted down a corridor and DJ exited the building. Without saying a word to the driver, DJ got back on the bus, and before it was even back through the gates, DJ was sobbing. She wasn’t even sure why. Maybe she was just tired or emotionally drained. Or maybe she just really cared about Taylor. DJ went back to the bedroom in the rear of the bus and closed the door. She knew that all she could do now was pray. And so she did.

DJ knew she should be grateful. She knew that she’d just participated in something totally amazing. Seriously, who ever would’ve dreamed that Taylor Mitchell would willingly go into an inpatient treatment program for alcohol addiction? This whole crazy Vegas ordeal had been nothing short of a real living, breathing miracle. It was probably a life-saving miracle, because it was obvious that Taylor had been out of control and on the fast track to self-destruct.

God
had
answered DJ’s prayers. He had truly intervened. DJ knew she should be thankful. And, really, she was. But at the same time, she was sad. Already she missed Taylor. And she felt worried and somewhat responsible. Like, what if it didn’t work? What if Taylor wanted out?

Once again, DJ knew that all she could do was to trust God with the whole thing. He knew what was best for her and Taylor. And so far, at least once DJ had put her trust into him, he hadn’t disappointed her. In fact, he had downright amazed her with this latest, greatest miracle.

The only problem now was . . .
What am I going to tell Grandmother?
DJ had promised to take good care of Taylor, to keep her safe and to bring her back for their big New York debut. What was DJ going to say to Grandmother now? That she had lost Taylor in Las Vegas? That she had somehow misplaced her friend, her grandmother’s favorite protégé?

DJ knew it was time to pray again. Really pray. It was true that Taylor had been lost, but she’d been lost long before Las Vegas. And perhaps when it was all said and done, Taylor would be found. DJ could only hope. And pray.

Read chapter 1 of
New York Debut
,
Book 6 in Carter House Girls.

1
NEW YORK DEBUT

“WHERE IS TAYLOR?”
asked Grandmother as she drove DJ home from the airport. “Is she coming on a later flight?”

DJ hadn’t told her the whole story yet. In fact, she hadn’t said much of anything to Grandmother at all during the past week, except she left a message saying that she’d changed her flight and planned to be home two days earlier than expected. Obviously, Grandmother had assumed that Taylor had changed her plans as well.

“Taylor’s in LA,” DJ said slowly, wishing she could add something to that, something to deflect further questioning.

“Visiting her father?”

“No . . .”

“Touring with Eva?”

“No . . .”

“What then?” Grandmother’s voice was getting irritated as she drove away from the terminal. “Where is the girl, Desiree? Speak up.”

“She’s in rehab.”