Текст книги "Epic Sins"

Автор книги: Trudy Stiles

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Garrett

Past

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Age 18

“GARRETT, WE’RE SO PROUD OF YOU.” My mother’s face shines through the haze of the smoky bar.

“Son, we couldn’t be prouder,” Bill says, squeezing my shoulder.

Son.

It still feels weird and a little uncomfortable, but I called Bill ‘Dad’ accidentally a few weeks ago, and he’s been calling me ‘Son’ ever since. He’s a great guy and loves Mom so much. He’s given us both a wonderful life and hasn’t ever looked down on the profession that I’ve chosen.

Of course, it wasn’t so easy the night that my mom found out that I hadn’t really gone to Rob Shultz’s house almost three years ago. She called Mrs. Shultz the second I walked out the door, confirming her immediate suspicions that I was lying to her. As soon as I got home, she grilled me about where I’d gone and why I felt like I couldn’t tell her the truth. So I stopped lying and told her everything.

I told her that I’d gone to find my father. She was crushed, like I had kicked her in the stomach. I told her that he hadn’t been there, and I had been strangely relieved. I honestly don’t know what I would have done if I’d seen him that day. The last time I saw him was when I was seven. That wasn’t a pleasant day, nor was it a great memory to have of your father who abandoned the only family he had. Mom told me it was for the best. I told her that the guys next door said he was in jail, and she nodded like she already knew that.

Who knows if he’s still in jail. I don’t really care. Even before he left us, my mother had taken over all of the parental responsibilities. She was both my mother and my father for so long. That is until Bill came along. He moved into our lives effortlessly.

I’m thankful for him and so happy that my mother ended up with the type of man she was meant to be with.

“Thanks,” I say to my parents as Bill gives me the best bro-hug he can imitate.

Tristan catches my eye, and he’s being followed by no less than a dozen girls. I smile and kiss my mom on the cheek. “Thanks for coming, but I—uh—I have to be somewhere.”

“Be careful, Garrett.” My mother looks disapprovingly toward Tristan and our first-ever groupies. “Those girls don’t look like they have your best interests in mind.”

Bill laughs out loud and squeezes my shoulder. “Claire, let him have fun. He’s a good kid.” He pats the back of my neck and pushes me toward Tristan. “Let’s go home.” He pulls my mother close and kisses her on the cheek.

“Dude!” Tristan yells after my parents leave the bar.

“Stop,” I say. “No need to make fun. They had a great time and now they’re gone.”

“I didn’t say anything. Them coming was nice and all, but it’s about time they left so we can have fun with the ladies.”

Several squeals come from his entourage, and I walk toward them. A short blonde catches my eye, and she flips her hair. “Hey,” she says, her voice soft.

“Hey.” Suddenly, I’m pulled backwards toward a booth in the corner. Dax says, “She’s off limits.”

“What?” I ask and slide into the booth across from him. “What do you mean she’s off limits? Since when do you have dibs?” I ask jokingly.

“No dude, she’s Bob’s niece.”

Bob is the bartender here at The High Note and, if I remember correctly, she’s only fifteen.

“What the fuck is she doing in here—looking like that?” She’s wearing the shortest shorts I’ve ever seen with half of her ass hanging out. Her tank top is way too small and her tits are practically spilling out the sides.

“Bob’s on vacation with her parents. She snuck out tonight with her very underage friends. Stay here while I grab Tristan before he gets arrested for what he’s about to do with the redhead.” Dax bolts out of the booth and sprints toward the girls surrounding Tristan.

Alex walks over and slides into Dax’s spot. “What’s with all of that?” he asks and gestures toward the group.

“Something about Bob’s niece and her friends. Whatever,” I say and toss some popcorn from the bowl in between us into my mouth.

“Shit, Bob is going to kill him.” He looks over at Tristan, who’s now flanked by both Bob’s niece and the redhead. We watch as Dax whispers into Tristan’s ear and his face suddenly turns white.

I practically choke on the popcorn just watching his expression. I can read his lips perfectly as he says, “No shit.”

They desert the girls quickly and join us in our booth.

“Jailbait.” I smirk and punch Tristan in the shoulder.

“Not funny, you fuckers. That girl looks at least twenty, if not older.”

“You almost went for Bob’s niece, douche-face,” Dax says to me and throws a handful of popcorn into my face.

Tristan punches me back and declares, “We’re even. Now don’t punch me again.”

I shake my head and wince.

Girls are easy to find, especially here, but hooking up with Bob’s niece would have been a major problem—on so many levels.

“We should start asking these chicks for I.D.,” I say. “It would suck if one of us got nabbed for sex with a minor.” I look to my right and Tristan is twirling a straw in his fingers.

“Whatever, man,” he says. “I’m no trolling pervert, but there is no way you can tell those girls are only fifteen and sixteen years old. Their parents should seriously lock them up.”

Alex is silent, and he’s totally out of sorts today. He rubs his ribs and winces. Dax witnesses his discomfort and asks, “How’s the new tat?”

“What did you get this time?” I ask. Alex has been getting ink for as long as I’ve known him. He’s always been able to pass for a little older, and the tattoo parlors he’s gone to have never questioned his age. Now that he’s eighteen, he can get anything he wants.

“Nothing,” he says, dismissing my question.

“It’s dark. That’s all you need to know,” Dax says, protecting Alex as usual. Those two have a pretty strong bond, and at first I thought they were brothers. Alex has lived with Dax for a few years, and I only recently found out why.

Alex’s father killed himself four years ago after he tried to kill Alex.

Totally fucked up.

I can’t even imagine his situation. My dad was never abusive toward my mom or me. He put us in harm’s way when he owed tens of thousands of dollars in gambling debts, but he would never raise a hand to hurt either of us.

Thank God Alex was taken in by Dax’s family. I think he would have self-destructed otherwise.

“What’s next?” Tristan asks, addressing Dax. “When’s our next gig?”

Dax pulls a folded piece of paper from his pocket and smooths it out on the table in front of him.

“Next Thursday, Friday and Saturday we’re back here. We play one gig on Thursday night, two on Friday and one on Saturday.”

Tristan groans. “Does that mean we’re playing Happy Hour on Friday, because the last time we did that, we were singing to fifty-year-old dudes.”

“Suck it up, asshole. Do you want to be able to pay your rent this month?” Dax says, annoyed.

Tristan pipes down and Dax runs through the next several weeks’ worth of shows. Apparently, there’s a record label interested in seeing us. Alex is skeptical, but the rest of us think it’s a major deal.

“We’ll use these next few weeks to get ready for the label rep to come see us next month. He’s coming here on the eighteenth.”

“My birthday,” I say, smiling.

“It’s going to be an epic night.”

Sam

Present

Villanova, Pennsylvania

Age 23

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” I yell at Aunt Peggy. I’m disgusted by what she just asked me, practically begged me, to do. “There is no way in hell I’m going to do this, so just back off.”

“Hear me out, Samantha.” Her tone is firm. There have only been two times she’s spoken to me like this and neither time was good. “I need you to listen to everything I have to say before you say no again.”

I flop onto the couch and yell again. “Do you have any idea what I’ve just been through? What I’ve done? I can’t possibly consider what you’re suggesting.”

I’m hanging on by a thread right now after the incident with baby Ben. I haven’t left my room for days. My guilt consumes me, and all I can think about is what I did wrong. How I killed a defenseless baby.

“Sam, if there is a child that needs you more than this one does, tell me and I’ll leave you alone.” She glares at me and I glare back.

“No child needs me! No child should be around me right now. I fucked up and I killed a baby! Do you hear me?” I’m screaming and shaking at the same time. She rushes to my side and throws her arms around me.

“Shhh, Sam. Calm down.” Her hands get caught in my tangled curls.

“You can’t ask me to do this,” I plead with her. Tears are freely flowing down my face, and she looks at me with pity. I hate that look. I don’t deserve her pity, or anyone’s, for that matter.

She starts talking over my sobs and I know she won’t stop until I hear her out. I wipe the dampness from my cheeks. I hate feeling sorry for myself. It makes me feel weak and useless. I nod once and she quickly jumps back into her request.

“Kai is a very sick little boy. His mother was addicted to some pretty bad drugs. She died of an apparent overdose, leaving him alone. She has no family at all. Now he’s suffering and about to be discharged to his father, who only just found out about him yesterday. The social worker has done everything within her power to find Kai a stable and loving home, but everything has fallen through. This baby needs you, Sam. Please. I’m begging you.”

Her stern voice turns soft and I see the worry and sadness in her eyes.

“Why are you asking me?” I ask.

“Because you’re the only one who can do it. I’ve seen you with the babies you care for. You save their lives every moment you’re with them. You’re the first line of defense should something go wrong and you help some through their last breaths on this earth.” I suck in a breath and open my mouth to correct her. I want to tell her that she’s wrong. I’m a killer. She ignores me and continues, “You’re the reason why ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the severely sick babies born in your hospital survive. You, Samantha.”

My self-doubt creeps in and more tears flow. “But I’m also the reason why one very special little boy is dead. Don’t you see? I’m not ready for this. I may never be ready for this ever again.”

Her look is stern once more. “Stop. I won’t listen to you talk like this. You’ll come to accept that what happened with baby Ben was an accident. It will take time, but you’ll accept it.” She squeezes my hand and she knows I’m resisting. I don’t want to believe her. I can never accept the damage that I’ve caused. I don’t understand why she doesn’t see that.

“I won’t take no for an answer. You can’t refuse to help this poor baby. You took an oath as a nurse. You can’t turn your back on this child. I won’t let you.”

She’s not going to back down.

“His social worker described what’s wrong with him with some technical term.” She pauses, trying to remember.

“Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome,” I answer for her.

“That’s it,” she says, nodding her head. “So you know all about what it is and how to care for this child.” She baited me and is reeling me in.

“Of course I do.” She knows this already. She’s heard me tell countless stories of babies just like Kai.

“That’s what I thought. So tell me what we need to have on hand. He’s being discharged from the hospital the day after tomorrow.” She pulls out the pocket notebook that she carries with her everywhere. It contains her lists that help her run her daily life.

After I tell her the supplies I’m going to need, I suddenly realize what I’ve committed to and I feel sick.

“I don’t even know your boss, Aunt Peggy. How can you expect me to move in there? This is absurd!”

She started working there when I went to nursing school and we never talk about it. She also does other personal assistant work for several families in our area, and I can never keep straight who she’s working for when.

“His name is Garrett Armstrong and he’s a musician.”

Garrett Armstrong.

Garrett Armstrong.

I repeat the name over and over silently in my head, knowing it sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it.

I hear Cassie’s high-pitched voice behind me, “GARRETT ARMSTRONG?” she screeches.

She runs around the couch and jumps up and down in front of me. “Do you know who he is?” Her voice goes up another octave and pierces my ears. I shake my head.

Aunt Peggy is finishing up her list and she clicks her pen after closing her notebook.

“Uh, Epic Fail?” Cassie says and the recognition sets in. I saw a tabloid article on the Internet this morning about Garrett Armstrong and some groupie OD’ing on his tour bus.

Cassie’s eyes light up. “Aunt Peggy, if Sam doesn’t want the job, I’ll take it.” She clasps her hands together and is nearly bursting at the seams.

“Fine, the job’s yours,” I say and stand up to leave the room. I can’t be a part of any of this. My head is pounding, and I just want to curl up and go to sleep.

“Samantha Katherine Weston.” My Aunt’s voice booms through the living room.

Dammit.

“Oh shit,” I hear Cassie say under her breath. “I was only kidding, Aunt Peggy.” Her voice turns sweet and she rushes past me up the stairs.

“Talk to your aunt. I don’t think you have a choice,” she says as she disappears down the hall and into my room.

I stop in my tracks and turn back to face my aunt.

“Do you care how I feel?” I try to expose her guilt.

“No. Not in this case. You’ve always trusted me, Samantha. You’ve always trusted that I know what’s best. You must trust me now. You are what’s best for Kai. You’re going to help turn what could be a very troubled young life around. Give this baby a chance. Please.”

I raise my eyes to meet hers again and they’re filled with worry.

“I saw him this morning.” She covers her mouth with her hand and chokes back a sob. “He’s at your hospital.”

My heart sinks.

“Dr. Hagan said he came into your NICU the day Ben died. He was supposed to be transferred to CHOP, but well, after what happened, there was a bed available at your hospital. She’s spent quite a good deal of time with him, and she knows he has a good chance at a good life, as long as he has the proper care. I told her that I was going to ask you. She agreed it would be a good idea.”

“You know I’m on administrative leave, right? I could possibly lose my nursing license. I may not be qualified for this job,” I say, and she shakes her head.

“I spoke with Jim and confirmed that you can do anything you want while you’re on administrative leave.”

“Why would you speak with my boss? Aunt Peggy, you’ve gone too far.” I’m angry now. She’s never meddled in my career before, and it makes me uncomfortable that she’s speaking with my co-workers and boss.

“When you meet Kai, you’ll understand why I’ve done what I’ve done.” She turns to leave the room. “I’m going to the pharmacy to buy everything on the list.”

And with that, she’s gone.

I hear her car back out of the garage and Cassie comes bounding down the stairs.

“Holy shit!” she exclaims.

Yeah, holy shit.

Garrett

Present

Villanova, Pennsylvania

Age 26

I PULL INTO MY LONG DRIVEWAY and watch through the rearview mirror as the privacy gate closes behind me. I’m trapped in a cage now, and I’m dreading what’s inside waiting for me.

I press the button above me and the garage opens slowly. I pass Peggy’s parked car as I maneuver my way next to the Land Cruiser. Bile rises in my throat and I slowly open the door.

What am I doing?

Three days ago, Peggy talked me into taking in a sick baby. My sick baby. I’ve regretted even giving her the power to force that decision on me. How did I let this happen?

Before I can turn and flee, the door between the garage and the house opens and Peggy emerges.

“We picked up Kai a few hours ago, and Sam is getting him settled. I wanted to talk to you before you came inside, so you know exactly what to expect.” Her worried expression tells me I shouldn’t have allowed this to transpire.

I open my mouth to tell her to get them out of my house, but she ignores my movement and speaks again.

“Kai is sick. You already know this. He has Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome.”

“I know,” I state.

“He cries. A lot. And his cries aren’t normal baby cries. They are high-pitched and will cut right through to your heart.”

I don’t know what she thinks she’s preparing me for, but I turn back to my car and unlock it.

“Garrett! Where do you think you’re going?” Her tone reminds me of my mother and I stop in my tracks. She grabs my arm, turning me around and leads me to the door of the house. She stops just before we enter.

“Sam has calmed him down, and he’s sleeping for now. I just wanted to warn you in case he wakes up. I don’t want you to be alarmed.”

“Peggy, this whole situation is fucked up.” I walk past her into the house, hoping I’m walking out of a bad dream.

The house is so quiet you can hear a pin drop. I walk through the kitchen looking for Peggy’s niece. The counters are filled with bags from the pharmacy and Babies R Us. Open boxes line the floor and baby things are everywhere. Swings and diapers and blankets. I feel like I’m going to pass out.

Peggy quickly places a cold bottle of water in my hand and says quietly, “Drink.”

“Whiskey,” I say, and my voice is hoarse. My lips feel like they’re cracking, and all I can think about is the double barrel whiskey that’s in the liquor cabinet. I place the bottle of water on the counter and keep walking into the den. The cabinet is on the far end of the room, and I need to get there now. I reach for the door and it won’t open. I tug again and it’s jammed.

“Safety locks.” Peggy’s voice startles me. She walks past me and pulls something out of her pocket and swipes it along the door. I hear a click as the cabinet lock disengages and she hands me what appears to be a magnet.

“What the hell?” I say as she pours me two fingers of whiskey.

“Drink.”

I swig it back and pass the glass back to her, indicating that I want more. She shakes her head and closes the cabinet.

“Are you relaxed yet?” she asks.

“No, and I don’t see myself getting there anytime soon.”

“Stop being so damn selfish and get yourself together,” Peggy snaps at me and I stiffen.

The past three days have been a whirlwind. After we agreed to take Kai in, I flew to Charlotte so I could explain what was going on to my parents. I didn’t want them to hear about this from the tabloids. Needless to say, my mother was shocked. Bill told me that he would help in any way that he could. They had already seen the news story about the ‘groupie’ dying from a drug overdose on our tour bus. Now they know the true story and not what the media is spreading. My return flight landed just under an hour ago, and I don’t even recognize the home I left yesterday. Peggy has completely transformed my bachelor pad into a nursery. I feel sick.

She turns me around, and we head toward the back set of stairs that leads to the guest rooms. I hear soft music coming from the room farthest down the hall. It sounds so familiar, but it’s an instrumental lullaby.

“Epic Fail Rock-a-Bye-Baby,” Peggy whispers, and I stop in my tracks.

“What?”

“I wanted Kai to hear his father’s music, but he isn’t ready for rock and roll just yet, so I got him the softer, lullaby versions of your songs.”

What the fuck?

I shake my head and look at her. “Is there anything else that you need to tell me?”

The soft pings of music I hear through the door are a complete bastardization of one of our chart-topping singles. It makes me want to vomit.

She opens the door slowly, and the first thing I see is a crib. The blinds are drawn in the room, but the ceiling is glowing with hundreds of stars and constellations. There’s a person in the rocking chair at the far end of the room, holding a baby close to her chest. I only see her silhouette, outlined by long, flowing curls.

Peggy approaches her and whispers something inaudible in her ear. She nods and stands up slowly. Peggy takes her seat and they expertly transfer the baby from her arms to Peggy’s.

She walks toward me, and her wide, blue eyes are the first thing I see. They pierce into my own and I feel a rush through my body. I don’t move as she approaches me, and she suddenly looks confused. Her lips move, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.

“What?” I ask, too loudly, and I’m immediately shushed by Peggy.

“Hallway,” she says and walks past me.

I follow her and stop outside the door. She brushes against me as she reaches to pull the door closed. Her shirt shifts and I see cleavage. My pants stir and my fight-or-flight response takes over. She’s stunning. Tall. Athletic. Fucking hot. She can’t be the baby nurse.

She can’t be the fucking baby nurse.

“Hi,” she says in barely a whisper. “I’m Sam.”

She extends her right hand and I grab hold of it. Her cool, soft hand closes slowly around mine and she pumps up and down.

“Hi, Sam. I’m Garrett.” I’m lost in her eyes and I can’t stop shaking her hand. She blinks hard as if trying to snap me out of my temporary paralysis, and she snatches her hand away from mine.

“Let’s go someplace where we can talk,” she says as she brushes past me again. Her vanilla scent leads me. The only thing I want to do right now is pull her into my bedroom down the hall. Completely inappropriate response.

She walks past my room and down the front staircase. I suddenly forget about Peggy and the baby, and I pick up speed, bounding down the stairs two at a time.

She disappears into the library where I join her. She closes the door behind me and sits on the large leather sectional.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions for me. Now is your chance before things get really—hectic,” she says and crosses her legs. I notice she’s wearing tight yoga pants that are rolled at her hips. She has tiger-striped ankle socks on and a loose fitting V-neck tee-shirt. Her brown hair is long, past her shoulders and curly. Very curly.

“What?” I ask.

A look of disgust snaps me out of the fantasy I’m about to let play out in my mind.

“Questions. Now’s the time to ask because he won’t be asleep much longer.”

“I don’t think I have any,” I say and smile.

“Okay, so I guess I’ll start.”

She shifts on the couch, moving her legs so she’s sitting cross-legged.

“I’m Samantha Weston, Peggy’s niece. I’m a neonatal intensive care nurse, and I’ve seen all kinds of sick babies in my career. I’ve only been a practicing nurse for about two and a half years, but I’ve gained a ton of experience in that time. Your son, Kai, has Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome. As you know, he was exposed to a variety of illegal drugs and narcotic substances. The withdrawal from these drugs is causing him great distress.” She looks into my eyes and nods.

I nod back, letting her know that I’m listening. Reality is setting in as this gorgeous woman tells me all about my very sick son. I hear all of the words she’s saying very crisply, but her lips seem to move in slow motion. A weight begins to pull in my chest, and I lean back in the wing chair that I’m currently sitting in.

“Stop,” I say, and she looks confused. “I don’t think I can hear any more of this.”

“Mr. Armstrong, you have to hear it. Because you’re about to live it.”

She tells me all about his feeding and other issues that he has. His high-pitched crying is mentioned again, and I don’t understand why this is so important that both she and Peggy have mentioned it multiple times. She explains that the best care for him right now is tactile care. We need to be very hands-on and let him know that someone is always close. Swaddling him tight is also important so he feels safe. What’s swaddling?

When Peggy talked me into this situation, I didn’t expect that I’d need to be hands-on. Why did I hire Sam to begin with if she’s going to expect me to be involved?

“I think there’s some mistake,” I interrupt her again, and she shoots me the same disgusted look she did just minutes ago.

“I’m sorry?” she asks.

“When I agreed to do this, Peggy assured me that you would have everything under control. I wasn’t expecting to be too involved.”

I’m glad I got that off my chest. I hope this clears the air.

She stands up and walks toward me. “Are you kidding me?” She scowls and now I can see the resemblance to Peggy. She smirks and says, “Let me get this straight. You thought that Peggy agreed to let me do everything while you ignored the fact that you have a son upstairs who needs his father?” Her arms are folded across her chest.

“Well, the way you say it makes me sound like an ass. But yeah, I didn’t expect that I’d be involved in Kai’s rehabilitation. I just found out about him the other day. I’m no more of a father than you are a mother.”

Wow, now I sound like a complete asshole.

Her face contorts and her cheeks turn bright red. “Mr. Armstrong, I swear to God, you’re lucky that I love my aunt more than life itself because—”

A piercing scream comes from behind her, and she turns quickly to grab what looks like a walkie-talkie from the couch. She turns the volume down, but the screams are high-pitched, sharp and shallow.

“What the hell is that?” I ask as dread sets in.

“That’s your son, Kai.” She opens the library door and darts up the stairs.

I remain glued to my seat as his cries travel down the stairs and pierce through my heart. He sounds like he’s in so much pain, like he’s being stabbed over and over again. It’s the most awful sound I’ve ever heard. Worse than hearing my own mother cry.

My son is crying and I’m powerless.