Текст книги "My Kind of Forever"
Автор книги: Heidi McLaughlin
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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Layla Richards looks around the club, probably recalling similar memories as I had when we played here. I follow her to one of the high top tables and sit down across from her. She is nothing like I remember with her red hair, wild make-up and questionable clothing all gone. In their place is chin-length hair, which is now dark and considerably toned down make-up. The barely there clothes she used to wear have been replaced with what I consider normal attire. The one thing that hasn’t changed is the color of her eyes, which are in complete contrast to her hair. Looking at her now, you wouldn’t believe she was the lead singer of a rock group.
“It’s so good to see you,” she says as she grabs for my hands. I let her because it’s harmless and Layla is just a friend.
“You, too. I hate that we didn’t keep in touch. What have you been up to?”
“Oh gosh,” she says as she falls back into her chair. “When was the last time I saw you?”
The last time I saw Layla is a night I wish I could forget. I’d love to go back and make sure it never happened¸ make it so I never crossed the line with Sam. I was lonely and for a brief moment thought that Layla and I could revisit things and even though Harrison had warned me, I still liked Layla.
I rub my chin and drag my thumb over my lip. “The last time I saw you some fucker popped me in the face.”
Layla’s eyes go wide as she covers her mouth in shock. “Oh my god,” she says, but it sounds more like ohmygob because her hand is covering her mouth. “Holy shit, I remember that.”
“Your husband, if I remember correctly?”
She waves her hands as if to dismiss what I’m saying.
“What a nightmare he was.”
“Was?” I ask, inviting more conversation. I’ll take her whole damn story if it gets me out of cleaning the club. I’m sure Layla isn’t here to clean either.
“Let’s get something to drink first,” she says as she heads toward the bar. I watch as she moves around with ease, making herself a drink. “Do you want something?”
“Sure, why not?” The why not should be because it’s before noon, and I shouldn’t be drinking. The sure is because I’m here and what else am I going to do? It’s pretty much all a lame excuse on my part.
After a few minutes she returns with two glasses of some orange and pink looking drink. I’m either a hard liquor or beer type of guy. Fruity shit and I do not get along. When she places it down in front of me, I try not to roll my eyes. I hesitantly pick it up and take a sip and surprisingly don’t gag, but am wondering what the hell it is that I’m drinking.
“I think you forgot the Vodka.”
She shakes her head and takes a long drink of her concoction. “I don’t drink, smoke or do any of the stupid shit I used to do.”
It takes me a moment realize she’s talking about drugs. The first night we met, she offered me something, and I took it, no questions asked. I had just been told via voicemail that I had ruined Josie’s life and I needed to feel numb. I needed to forget about the lives that I had ruined when I left mine behind and Layla was the answer to that – in more ways than one.
“Good for you. What made you change?”
“Took some ecstasy, had a one night stand and ended up pregnant.”
I swallow hard, knowing that’s what we did minus the pregnancy part… I hope.
“So you have a kid?”
“Yep, she’s almost twelve.”
Layla finishes her drink as if nothing is amiss. I’ve barely touched mine and have suddenly found that I’m not very thirsty, though my mouth is parched and my tongue feels numb. I can’t even begin to describe what I’m thinking or feeling. I do the math quickly, using Noah’s age when I found out about him. They’re about a year apart and as I mentally tick off the months in my mind all I can see is Josie’s face as she hears the words that I may have another child. This will kill her and end us. We have been unable to conceive another child and to hear that a fling – one that I went to days after breaking up with her – could have possibly had my baby because I was stupid will kill her. She’ll leave me and I’ll deserve to be alone.
Maybe if I don’t ask if I’m the father, she’ll never bring it up and I’ll never have to tell Josie. Of course, that will never work because the guilt will eat away at me and I’ll end up caving. My life, as I know it, may be over. She will maim me, stringing me up by my toes in the basement.
No that would be too easy. I can see my wife looking me in the eyes and telling me to get to the fuck out. She won’t even bat an eyelash. It won’t even matter that this happened while we were broken up.
“Liam?” Fingers are snapped in my face, breaking me from my train of thought.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” I adjust myself in the chair, seeking some sort of comfort, but finding none.
“My husband… he didn’t want to be the father to another man’s child and the night he punched you in the club, he said he was done with my ‘ways’.” She waves her hands dismissively in the air as if it’s no big deal. My life is falling apart, tearing away at the seams and she’s acting like this is just another day for her.
“Do you have a picture of your daughter?”
“Yeah, sure,” she says, as she digs through her purse, pulling out her phone. My palms are sweating as she swipes through her photos looking for the one that is going to seal my fate. Fuck, I need a shot... or fifty... to get me through this.
Layla slides her phone over for me to look. I wish I was the observant type and could tell if this child is mine or not, but I can’t. She has brown hair, hazel eyes and could look like Noah… maybe. I’m not sure. Hell, I stood next to my son in the bathroom and saw him in the mirror, but never fully looked at him until he told me he’d seen me kissing his mom on TV. Staring at the girl now, she looks like Layla, and that’s probably because she’s standing next to her. She takes her phone back and locks the screen, ending my viewing session. Part of me doesn’t want to know if this is my child and would rather go back to Beaumont in the dark, but the other part of me needs to find out. As much as it would hurt Noah, he’d have a right to know that he has a sister.
“What’s her name?” My voice is low, broken and barely above a whisper. My life is fucked. There’s no fixing this unless I lie, and I’m not about to do that. Layla doesn’t answer, nor seem to even acknowledge that I asked a question. I want her phone back. I want to look again, to study the photo or maybe multiple ones so I can compare. Put her daughter and Noah side-by-side and see if they match.
At this rate I’m Dad of the fucking year. I’ve missed both my children growing up, coming in after most of the hard stuff is done, but being there for the ever so lovely teenage years.
“Are you feeling okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I’m fine,” I stammer. “Why didn’t you… keep in touch?” I wanted to ask her why she didn’t tell me, but changed my mind at the last second. This answer will be easier to hear rather than a meaningless excuse.
I hate to think of where I’d be in life right now had she told me. I know I would’ve gone home for Mason’s funeral and developed a relationship with Noah, but it’s unlikely Josie would’ve given me the time of day. She’d be married to Nick now and probably pregnant with their child because he has no problem getting his wife pregnant. I, on the other hand, can only conceive children when I’m eighteen fucking years old. Sterling is going to be so proud of me when he hears I fathered another child.
“This business makes it hard, and you didn’t exactly have a likeable manager. What happened to her anyway? Better yet, where the hell have you been? I heard you went all rogue and moved out of LA.”
Right now I want a strong, stiff drink that’s going to knock me on my ass and make me forget about how screwed up my life is. I need to numb my brain and keep it from over thinking.
“My best friend died, and I went home for the funeral. Going home changed a lot of things for me. As for Sam…” I run my hand over my hair and sigh. There was a time in my life when I liked Sam. It wasn’t anything like what I felt for Josie, but the feelings were still there. What I couldn’t deal with were the lies and how controlling she was. She just couldn’t let things happen organically between us. My biggest mistake was leading her on and telling her that we’d try right before Mason died.
“When you go home after being gone for ten years without keeping in contact with anyone, you learn a lot about yourself and the people you left behind. I had a high school sweetheart who I had broken up with days before I met you.” Layla’s eyes go wide with understanding at what I’m telling her. “Anyway, I was home and shit started falling into place. We have a son that Sam knew about but hid from me. Once I found out, I terminated my contract with Moreno Entertainment and put down permanent roots back home – bought a house and all that grown-up shit we’re supposed to do.” I sigh, thinking about how everything changed after that. “Sam, she grew desperate and sabotaged our tour. We lost a lot of money, sued Moreno Entertainment and are still waiting for payment. Two years ago, I married my girl and a couple days after, Sam killed herself.”
Layla covers her mouth in shock. I would, too, if I were hearing this for the first time, but the shock of hearing about it doesn’t even come close what it was like actually living it. Sam harassing Josie was a nightmare – telling her that I was going to take Noah away from her, showing up at our house with nothing but lingerie on. Her destruction of our tour was the last straw. Something had to be done.
“Anyway, shit’s crazy right now. The band isn’t making any money. We all have families to support. We’re out here to help Trixie, but I’m hoping I can work a few deals and get us some headliners or something.”
“Do you guys still want to tour?”
Nodding, I finally take a drink of whatever it is that Layla made. “I miss it. I miss being on the road and performing. Right now we do a few sets at the local bar and my wife’s café, but it’s not the same.”
“I know what you mean. After I had Naomi, shit got hard. Touring with a baby was stressful, but I didn’t want to leave her. I also didn’t want to quit partying, but something had to give. So now I write music. My songs are selling to artists bigger than I ever would’ve gotten, so I still feel successful.”
All thoughts have turned back to her daughter when she says her name. It’s fitting that her name is similar to Noah’s. It’s showing me how much of a fuck up I am and makes me wonder what the fuck Josie is even doing with me. I put the glass down and take a deep breath.
“When I can meet her, Layla?”
“Who?” she asks. I hate that she’s playing dumb. It’s the most annoying thing when women do this. She knows exactly what I’m referring to and still won’t come out and say what I don’t want to hear.
“Naomi.”
“Why would you want to meet her?”
I put my drink down and fold my hands together. “I’ve lost enough time with one child; I don’t want to lose anymore. I can understand if you don’t want me to be a part of her life but I’d at least like to meet her. She has a brother just a bit older than her. They should at least know each other.”
Layla’s eyes go wide, and she starts shaking her head. “Naomi isn’t your daughter, Liam.”
I take her words in, repeating them over and over again in my head. Relief washes over me, yet I’m still confused. “But you said –”
“What I said was that I got pregnant after a one night stand, which yes, you and I had and yes, we had done ecstasy, but it wasn’t you who knocked me up.”
“Are you sure?”
Layla smiles. “Positive. Naomi’s dad is actually in her life. They have a good relationship. You have nothing to worry about. No need to start writing me checks.”
“It wasn’t the checks I was worried about.”
“What was it then?”
I pull out my phone and bring up a picture of Josie and Noah. “It’s them. That’s my wife, Josie, and our son, Noah. I left her, eighteen and pregnant. I found out about him when I went home for my buddy’s funeral.”
“She’s gorgeous. How come she never called you?”
“She did.” I lock my screen and put my phone away. “Sam hid the messages from me. Anyway, we’re about to adopt and once again, I’ve up and left before the baby is due to arrive. I’ve been sitting here thinking about how she’s going to kill me. So don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m really happy your daughter isn’t mine.”
“But Liam you’d make such a great baby daddy.”
Before I can respond, she’s off the stool and behind the bar, making more of her juice. “I’ll take mine with some rum!” I yell out to her, earning a loud chuckle. One crisis averted for the day... and right now, I think that’s about all I can handle.
I’ m in Beaumont – Liam’s hometown. I can see why he left. There’s absolutely nothing here. I’d be so bored and am thankful that he’d never invited me back before. I saw her today, the one he mumbles about. I know the baby she carries is his, but Liam doesn’t need to know. He’s a rising star and this would derail everything I’ve worked so hard for. Daddy was right. We’re his family now .
Nothing... and I mean absolutely nothing... could’ve prepared me for this. Each page is getting harder and harder to read. The questions I once had have been answered, and not in a good way, and I find myself questioning everything that is written in black and white before my eyes. I know Liam. I know him better than the person writing this book, and for the life of me I can’t see him like this.
I am not naïve. I know he changed when he went to college. Noah having to grow up without him is evident by that, albeit not by Liam’s choice. But to read that my son was purposely hidden from his life is heartbreaking. These people didn’t do anything for my husband except create a puppet that they wanted to control. I hate… hate to think about where we’d be today if it hadn’t been for Mason.
I loathe typing B-E-A-U-M-O-N-T into my computer, but Liam is insistent. Why he’s going to the funeral for a guy that he hasn’t seen in ten years is baffling. These people mean nothing to him, and yet he’s leaving me again. I wonder if I should tell him that his friend came looking for him all those years ago. That he pounded his fists on the desk in reception demanding that he see him. He even waited in the lobby for two days for Liam to come in, but I made sure to keep him away. NOTHING was going to take my Liam from me, and yet here is the same man, taking him back to that wretched place.
Tears rush from my eyes, wetting the pages of this garbage. I remember when Mason disappeared for a few days, never telling me where he went. I’m not sure if he ever told Katelyn. When he came back though, you could tell he wasn’t the same person. Katelyn thought he had cheated on her, but he didn’t. She knew that in her heart, but couldn’t help and second-guess why he was being so secretive. Now we know.
I throw the book to the ground and let the tears fall freely, hoping to expel the negative energy from my mind and body. Reading this was a mistake and when they say curiosity killed the cat, they weren’t joking. I feel dead inside. My heart feels as if it weighs a hundred pounds or more and is barely beating. I need Liam to hold me, reassure me that Sam is dead and will never come back to interfere in our lives. And if she isn’t dead, she’ll wish she were after I’m finished with her.
Glancing around, I realize I’m still in the bathroom, having never moved once I turned the first page. My stomach growls, but the thought of food is nauseating. I’m not sure I could eat anything and if I did I’m not sure it’d stay down.
My legs are stiff as I start to stand, using the wall for guidance and leverage. Never, have I been so consumed with something that I’ve let so much time pass. Even after Liam left I had to function. The baby growing inside of me needed me to survive.
Darkness filters through the blinds in my kitchen. Glancing at the illuminated clock on the microwave tells me that I’ve been in the bathroom for about six hours. That’s far too many hours wasted on something that means so little to my life. It’s the journal excerpts that gave me pause. Reading and re-reading them over and over to let the tales of Sam and the other women soak in is what took me so long to process the garbage that has been written in that stupid book. It’s like a car crash on the highway. You know you shouldn’t look because it’s disrespectful to stare, but you turn your head anyway as you drive at a snail’s pace, only to mutter an “Oh God” and say a silent prayer of thanks that it wasn’t you in that accident.
When I saw the mangled truck that Mason drove the night he was killed, the sentiment of “Oh God” had an entirely different meaning. The officers were slow to release the wreckage to the towing company and something deep inside made me drive by the scene the next morning. His truck, one that I had been in so many times, was a shell of what it used to be. It was easy to see how he didn’t survive even as his words echoed through my mind, “Nothing can break this baby.” He was wrong. An eighteen-wheeler with failing breaks coming down a hill did. That semi didn’t just destroy Mason’s truck, but all of our lives as well. However, with that destruction came hope and something new. Because of Mason, I was given another chance with Liam and I’m a fool to let some unauthorized biography based mostly on his psycho manager mess that up for me.
Do the words hurt? Yes, but they can’t matter to me. I won’t let them. I don’t know who this Calista Jones person is, but the story she tells paints the picture of a much different person than the man I love. I’m smart enough to accept that the Liam I fell in love with isn’t the same man I married and I know he would say the same thing about me. We grew up, each of us in our own ways, but I don’t care what people say, your first love is never forgotten no matter how many years pass.
My phone sits on the counter, mocking me. If I had to bet, I’d say Liam is on his way home because we’ve never gone this long without talking. I know him well enough to know he’s pacing, pulling at his hair and pounding his fists against the windows overlooking the town he loves so much. When he booked his suite at the Wilshire, the night that I met him there came rushing back. I was teetering that night, willing to give myself to him so I could remember what it felt like to be under his control. To have him hovering over me, willing my body to be at his command.
He wouldn’t let me. Instead he paced, often moving out of my grasp just as I had him in it. It pained him not to touch me and each time I’d look into his eyes; his resolve was breaking mine down. When I reminded him that I was engaged, it was for my benefit not his. I had to say the words out loud to remind myself that I already gave myself to another man.
When it comes down to it, Liam isn’t any different. He willingly gave himself away to his painkillers, as he called them. I can’t hold that against him.
I push the home button on my phone and look at the notifications. Liam has called and texted, along with Katelyn and Jenna. Swiping my finger across Liam’s missed call; I enter my passcode, listening to his voice sing out into my ear. In the first message he’s telling me that he’s checking in and would like me to text him when I’m free. In the second he wants to know what I’m doing and why I haven’t texted him. It’s in his third message that I detect panic in his voice when he tells me that he loves me and really needs to hear my voice. The fourth message he leaves is mostly cussing and asking where I’m at. The rest of the messages are from Katelyn and Jenna, following the same pattern as Liam’s: What am I doing, why am I not answering the phone?
I don’t bother reading his texts messages before replying.
I’m sorry. I’m home and have been sleeping. Just tired.
The lie – or, technically, omission of the truth – comes easier than it should, but telling him that I’ve been reading the book that he doesn’t want me to read won’t sit well with him and fighting over the phone is not something I want to happen while he’s in LA.
Can you come over?
I send that to Katelyn, knowing she’ll be here the second she wakes. After starting a pot of coffee, I return to the bathroom and pick up the trash... also known as the novel. It’s sad to think that people will spend their hard earned money on something like this, but the gossipmongers will be out in full-force and taking this as gospel, especially the part that tells the world that the only reason Liam and I are married is because of Noah and how I blackmailed him, threatening to take everything away from him. It’s funny to think that it was me begging Liam not to take Noah away from me. Alone, he could offer Noah such a better life and could easily have had his high-powered attorneys destroy me. Sam tried though, on his behalf. It was that night that I knew Liam and I would be okay. When I showed him the papers that Sam had dropped off, he was livid, promising me he would never do anything of the sort. Sadly, somehow that part didn’t make it into the novel. I guess Calista Jones failed fact checking in school.
The sound of the buzzer blasts through the house notifying me that someone is at the gate. The video monitor by the door shows me Katelyn, sitting in her car. Turning off the alarm and pressing the button that opens the gate, I return to the kitchen and pull out two mugs and pour the freshly brewed coffee into them. It’s going to be a long day for me and knowing she’s come here in the middle of the night means she’s been waiting for my text.
“What the hell, Josie?” she says as she comes through the door. Katelyn puts her bag down on the counter and pulls me into a hug. “Liam called and said you weren’t answering. I called you and when you didn’t answer I called Nick to see if he had Noah and to find out if you were going anywhere. What’s going on?”
“This,” I tell her as I hand her the book. “It was delivered earlier, and I decided to read it.”
Her face and shoulders drop as she looks at me. Tears form around the rims of my eyes, but they stay at bay. She knows what I’m going through, as she went through something similar with Harrison, all thanks to Sam.
“Did you read it?”
I nod. “Most of it.”
She sets it on the counter and brings the mug closer to her, adding some of the cream that I had pulled out before she walked into the kitchen.
“You know, you told me not to believe everything I read or see in the press about Harrison, right?”
“That’s what the guys tell us to do. We have to trust them.”
Katelyn holds her mug in her hands, warming them even though it isn’t cold out. “When Harrison and I were in LA a few weeks back, we went to a basketball game. It was more for Peyton than any of us, but we do things as a family so we all went. I was minding my own business, when I happened to glance up at the jumbo Tron and find my husband gawking at one of the cheerleaders in front of us. I was so angry and embarrassed that I never stopped to look at the bigger picture. Aside from showing complete disinterest, he had nowhere else to look. The girl was right in front of him, shaking her ass. But that didn’t excuse him from looking.
“I spent the next few days angry with him. I would stay inside when he took the kids out to surf and I made sure to keep my ass covered. Those girls were in their twenties and here I am over thirty and shit is starting to sag. Harrison finally had enough and told me so that night. He reminded me that we made promises to each other and nothing should ever come between us. He also said that there are people out there that will make us second guess the people we love and if we allow that, we’re going to be living our lives always looking over our shoulders.”
She pauses to take a drink. “Now tell me, why did you read it?”
“Because I was curious and because I’m jealous.”
“Jealous of what?”
I set my cup down and cover my face, ready to admit for the first time that everything he’s done with his life was better than what we had planned. “I’m hurt that those people got his time when Noah didn’t get shit and he deserved it more than any of them. I’m jealous that I wasn’t enough for Liam to be a part of it. I’m jealous that other women know him the way I do and that they think they have the right to talk about him. I’m jealous that I missed ten years and will never get them back.”
Katelyn steps toward me, placing her hands on my shoulders. “You do realize that not many marriages work in this situation. I think you should count your lucky stars that he grew up before he came back to you or you’d be on the front page of those rags with the headlines that make your blood boil. Believe me when I tell you it’s not easy to see people calling me a gold-digger and not worth a marriage proposal. Harrison has said time and time again that we’ll get married, but it’s not what he wants. I’m happy with the way things are and I don’t question his loyalty to me and the girls, but the outside world doesn’t get that.”
“The outside world is going to think that I blackmailed Liam into marriage, I think I’d much rather have the title of gold-digger.”
