by J. A. Coffey
“Is everything ready for the final city inspection?” I ask.
He nods. “And I’ve ordered in the food and supplies for the reunion party.”
“Good,” I say with a smile. “Don’t worry, Cor. Everything’s going to work out.”
“You and Liam? Or this place?” He gestures to his tiny office.
“Let’s hope for both.”
Chapter Ten
Liam
“Headed out again tonight?” Finn stalks out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Zane practically spits out a mouthful of cornflakes. “Don’t sit your naked ass over here, I’m eating.”
“If it’s naked you want…” Finn threatens to drop his towel and we all avert our eyes.
“C’mon, guys.” My head starts to throb and I want to be anywhere but here. The constant arguing between the two guys who are the closest thing I have to brothers is wearing me down. I’ve been mulling over my conversation with Beth and I came to one conclusion—if we have any chance of making this work.
“Up yours, Zane.” Finn flicks him an angry glare. “As if you’ve got any room to talk. Where’d you sleep last night?”
Zane’s cheeks blaze with a red so fierce it’s either anger or embarrassment. I’m shocked because as far as I know, Zane hasn’t been partying or hooking up. That’s usually Finn’s thing.
“Settle down, boys. Save that fire for the stage. We’ve got a huge concert tour ahead of us.” DeSilva sails into the penthouse looking completely unrumpled. “What’s up with you, kid?” he directs towards me.
I rub my hand over the back my neck. “It’s just…you remember Beth, right?”
Zane nods. “Sure. Pretty redhead?”
“She’s more than just pretty. She’s an amazing violinist.”
“Strings are cool.” Finn nods. For once, he and Zane don’t argue.
“We did an improv of some of the Wylde Ryder songs back at her place. Even without a recording engineer, it was out of this world.”
Zane runs a hand over his chin. “Let’s hear it.”
They cluster around me, and for a moment, I worry that I shouldn’t show them. What we taped was meant to be private. But Beth is so amazing, and it kills me that the only person who hears her is me.
I dig out the video clip of yesterday’s improv. The sound quality sucks and the giant giraffe I bought for Cadence is clearly visible over Beth’s left shoulder, but still, her playing leaves me breathless.
“Whoa,” Finn says.
“She’s good.” Zane agrees.
We stare at DeSilva, now blathering loudly into his cell. He makes eye contact with us and ends his call. “What’s this?”
“Liam’s girlfriend.” Zane tilts the screen so he can see it better. “Cool improvisation, eh?”
DeSilva nods, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Could be. With the right agent to develop her.”
“She doesn’t need an agent,” I say hastily. “We were just fooling around.” But a big part of me wants the world to see her the way I do—an incredibly talented musician.
“You know, fans would probably eat this up,” Finn speculates. “The creative liberties she’s taking are pretty cool.”
“It’s a good cover. Different.” DeSilva nods. “Yeah. You should upload this to the band’s YouTube channel.” He nods at me.
“Uh.” I’m not so sure I should do that without her permission. “I can ask.”
“Don’t ask, kid. Do. Surprise her.” DeSilva waves his hands. “Women love surprises.”
Beth doesn’t exactly love surprises. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I set my cell aside.
“Why wouldn’t it be? Does Beth want to play with us sometime?” Zane asks. He seems genuinely interested. As our leader, he handles our creative direction, so it’s not an idle question. He could make it happen.
My heart starts ticking. “Maybe.”
I think about the possibilities. If I upload it and the fans go wild for it, it could help Beth realize her own potential. She’d be more than a waitressing mom—she’d be making music. The thing we’d always dreamed of. “I don’t know.”
“What’s to know? Do it.” DeSilva pulls up the band’s official channel. “Let the public decide. Send me the mp.4 file. I’ll get it online in a couple minutes.”
I hesitate.
If I do this, and fans love it, then Beth could be well on her way to regaining the life she gave up for me. If it’s not a hit with the fans, she probably won’t even know. Beth herself admitted she doesn’t use social media. “I reserve the right to pull the video off at any time,” I warn DeSilva. “If Beth so much as squeaks, it comes down.”
Marco laughs dryly. “At least give me twenty-four hours, kid. I’m not a miracle worker.”
Can I trust him? If the fans love it as much as I and the other members of Wylde Ryder do, Marco would be more than a miracle worker. He’d be the lynchpin to helping Beth get her music back on track. No matter what happens between us, she deserves that.
Will she be too cautious to go for it? Probably.
“All of us here are witnesses to your promise to take it down,” I repeat.
DeSilva looks at Zane and Finn and then back at me. “Yeah, kid. Sure.”
I finally cave and email DeSilva the video, hoping I’m not making a mistake.
By quarter to four, I am dressed and on Beth’s doorstep. She opens up and I immediately head to Cadence bouncing happily in her bouncy-chair. “Hey, beautiful.” I kiss the top of her head and then Beth’s cheek. “Hey to you, too.”
The only thing I want to do tonight is spend time with Beth and my daughter. My pleasure at seeing both of them erases the tension of my decision to upload the video, like soap ring down the drain.
“How’s everyone doing?” I want to take a minute to tell her what I’ve done, but she’s flustered.
“I’m running late.” Beth is a whirlwind, trying to gather her things and rattle off instructions for me. “The bottles are in the top cabinet over the stove. Milk needs to be warmed, but not too warm. Don’t use the microwave, do it on the stove top and test it on your wrist first.”
“I know,” I reassure her. I’ve seen her do it about twenty times now. I scan the tiny jars of baby food on the counter. “Ooh, sweet potatoes. Nice choice.”
“Um, you know where all the changing supplies are, and the toys and her clean clothes. If she spits up there’s extra burp cloths on the changing table.”
“Gotcha.” I run my hand over my hair and prepare to tell her about uploading the video. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Can it wait?” She stops and checks her watch again. “I’m really, really late.”
I consider the possible consequences. No rush, I guess, until I see the fans’ response.
“Sure. We can talk about it later.”
“Thanks.” She kisses my cheek and leaves in a sweet-smelling rush. “Be home as soon as I can.”
Home. It feels so good to say. Even better to be doing it with Beth.
After two hours of playing with Cadence, perfecting my peek-a-boo skills, I feed her and head into the nursery for rocking and story time. By the second book, my sweet baby is yawning and rubbing her eyes, so I bundle her off to bed, making sure there is nothing wedged between the bumper pads of her crib.
I glance around Cadence’s room, wondering if there’s anything else I need to do besides dim the lights. I can’t remember Beth doing anything else, so I tiptoe out to the living room. Beth’s place is already cleaned and cozy. I pad into the kitchen and rinse out the baby bottle, taking care to separate the ring from the nipple.
Then I sink into a chair in her sparse living room and watch the hits climb on our uploaded video. Comments are solidly in her favor, with fans wanting to know who the mystery violinist is. I’m grateful that DeSilva at least left her name off the header, titling the upload as just “Liam’s
Secret Jam.” Nice. I hope Beth will appreciate what I’m trying to do for her.
I check my watch. After nine. When she gets home, she’s probably going to be be exhausted. Hell, all I want after a concert is two aspirin, a cold beverage and a soft pillow.
Chances are, she’ll feel the same. I know exactly what I should do.
By the time Beth steps through the door, smelling faintly of fermented hops, spicy peanuts, and cigars, I have it all laid out.
“What’s this?” she asks, taking in the hastily-created bouquet of flowers from her front planter bed and the open bottle of sparkling cider.
“Found it in the pantry. Thought you might like to unwind after a long day.”
“I forgot I even had that.” She sets her diaper bag purse aside. “Sounds heavenly.”
“There’s more.”
“More?” Beth arches her brow and follows me down the hall. “Is Cadence okay?”
“Just checked on her.” I hold up the silent baby monitor. “Sleeping like a baby.”
“So what’s the big surprise?” Her eyes dart nervously toward her bedroom door.
“This.” I take hold of her shoulders and direct her into her bathroom, where a full tub of hot bubbles awaits. The scent of lavender steam envelops us as she sinks onto the closed toilet lid, as if her knees are suddenly weak.
“You ran me a warm bath?”
I smile. “I thought you could use a little pampering after all this time. Are you hungry?”
“Not for food.” She blushes and I stifle a wave of desire that tells me to hop into the tub with her.
“Maybe later. Tonight is about you.”
“You’re amazing.” She bites her lip, clearly torn between thanking me properly and sinking blissfully solo into the tub.
“I’ll just give you some peace.” I leave the glass of cider on the counter, step out and close the door. After a few minutes, I hear her splashing into the warm water. I smile.
After twenty minutes of unnecessary tidying in the living room, she calls me, so I step into her bathroom sanctuary.
She’s tying a robe around herself and giving me that look. My mouth goes dry. “Looks like someone finished her soak.”
“It’s just what I needed. I can’t remember when I’ve had time for a bath.”
“The night’s not over yet.”
“Oh?” she replies, a little too casually. “What else is on the schedule?”
“This.” I hold up a bottle of lotion. “Not exactly massage oil, but I’m pretty sure I can loosen those stress knots in your shoulders.”
Working on her body leads me to working out other things, and before I know it, we’re lying in bed together, exhausted and heavy breathing from our passion. Totally not what I had planned, but Beth is amazingly hot and I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of making love to her. Every time is like the first time—like a brand new start.
A start where neither of us wasted time or talent. Where we’re simply together, the way we should be.
I’m just about to mention the video when she says, “Cormack saw your dad loitering around the pub.”
Her words tense my shoulders. I sit up and lean against the pillows to stare at her pretty face. “And?”
She shrugs, and a flash of creamy skin slips free from the covers. “Nothing. That’s all.”
“Gotta be a reason.” Suddenly, I’m worried about her and the baby. I even spare a thought for her Ma and Cormack. Heck, anyone who’s ever been kind to me is liable to end up getting hurt.
Now uploading the video doesn’t seem like such a great idea. If my father is resourceful enough to get my cell number, it shouldn’t be too hard to follow Beth on the city bus as she goes to and from work. That video confirms where and with whom I’ve been spending my free time.
“Hey, where are you going?” Beth asks.
“Bathroom.” I grab my cell and fire off a message to tell Marco to pull down the video clip as soon as I’m behind the closed door. Then I crawl back into bed beside her and watch the stars fade outside the window blinds while she sleeps.
The next day on the way back to the hotel, I find myself driving down my old street. The place doesn’t look any different. Dirtier, maybe. The house on the corner has an old car in the front yard on bricks. Ms. Jenkin’s place has a turquoise front door and artificial flowers in the faded pot by the mailbox. Otherwise, the place is the same. I ring the bell, and wait for the door to open. My father’s brows shoot up in his craggy forehead.
Good, I’ve surprised the bastard.
“Heard you’ve been hanging around the pub. Don’t bother.” I push past him, into the cramped living room where he holds court with his old high school football trophies clustered around him as if he still matters to anyone.
From what I can see, zero has changed. Same cracked and faded recliner in the corner. Same asshole who goes to settle on it. “Knew you’d come by eventually.” He sinks onto his throne.
“You’re pathetic.”
“Don’t test me.” His eyes flare and I realize they’re almost the same color as mine, but bloodshot. I wonder if that’s what Beth sees when I’m angry.
“So. You’ve been trying to reach me. Talk.” I cross my arms, unwilling to step further into the room unless I have to.
Dad tries for conciliatory. “Want a beer?”
“No.”
“Thought you rockers were partiers.” He squints up at me, like he’s deciding whether to suck up to me or squash a bug.
I flick a disinterested glance at my watch. “You’ve got ten minutes.” He doesn’t know they’ll be the last ten minutes he spends with me outside of an arrest warrant.
Dad starts to puff up in irritation; he’s half coming out of his sunken in lounger as it is. Then he stops. “I need money.”
“The hell you do.” I gesture around. “Place looks the same.”
“Nice of you to notice.” He rolls his shoulders. “I ain’t had a work contract in a while, though.”
I’m surprised, but then again, not. “So?”
“So, I was bringing in a decent income and things are getting a little tight now. I figure you owe it to me to help out.”
“You think I’m a dutiful son?” I snort. “You figured wrong.”
Now he’s out of his chair. I edge closer to the door.
“I can take it out of your wallet…” he says, pausing ominously, before he gives me a deadly smile, like the gleam off a knife blade. “Or your hide. Your choice.”
It’s blackmail and he shouldn’t be able to get away with it. But if I get into a fight with him, there’s a chance I’ll break my knuckles on his face. That would seriously hinder my ability to play at the concert tomorrow night, not to mention the gossip columns going nuts over photos of my bruises. DeSilva would kill me, plus if I call the cops the papps will get ahold of it and then things with Beth could completely blow up. There’s no way she wants that kind of limelight and I’ll do anything to keep her and Cadence away from evil.
That’s what my father is. Pure, unadulterated evil. It means more now than just my career. It’s our lives. So I agree.
“How much?”
“Ten thousand oughta cover me.” His scornful eyes hit harder than his fists.
Ten thousand I can handle. I make more than that off the concert merchandise, but coming from my father it’s a heavy hit.
I want the money to take care of Beth and my baby—but it’s better for everyone if I can get my father out of my life. “Fine.”
My agreeing takes him by surprise.
“’Til next time, anyways,” he snarls, amending his conditions.
I take a deep breath. Time to explain why I’m actually here. “There won’t be a next time. This is a one-time offer. I pay you what you want, and you stay out of my life for good.”
“Why, son,” he says with mock injured pride. “What would you do without me? I’m your only family.”
/> “No, you aren’t.” The words come out before I realize I’ve said them.
My father looks at me like I’ve just handed him a lottery ticket. “That so?”
He rubs a hand over his stubbled jaw, as if piecing out a puzzle.
“I’ve got no family. The band is my family,” I blurt, trying to cover my mistake. I can’t tell if he believes me or not.
“Maybe. And maybe that stuffed giraffe I saw in your video was for more than your girlfriend. Could be you’re playing Daddy yourself, eh? That what brought you scrambling back to Seattle?”
He saw the video. Of course he had. My heart’s pounding so hard, I can feel my heartbeat in my ears. “Your ten minutes are up. I’m out.”
I turn to go, but I’m slammed from behind into the wall next to the storm door.
“So’s your little secret.”
We scuffle a little. “Get off me.”
“You little piss ant. You went and knocked her up, didn’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sweat is dripping under my arms, and I realize I just tipped off my father. The one person who should never find out about Cadence. I rush through the front door, desperate to get away before I say anything more.
He follows, taunting me like a bull fighter. “You might not. But I seen your little girlfriend toting that kid around. At first I just figured she’s been running around, but it’s yours, ain’t it?”
“Stay away from her,” I say, with enough venom that my father pauses. But I’m not gonna fight him. My hands wail on the drums, not people. I’m not like him. “She’s got nothing to do with this.”
He shoves me from behind, half up the sidewalk, where I’m tripping on the cracked, broken concrete. “Could be. But I’m guessing there’s more to your story. Maybe I’ll go check it out.”
I tell myself that he’s bluffing, that there’s nothing he can do to harm Beth or my baby, but deep in my heart, I know I’m wrong. My bastard father will do anything to get to me. He’s got no boundaries, no respect. It’s why I left, why my mother left, and why I’m willing to leave everything behind in order to protect my true family.
