“C’mon, G. Let’s make it a threesome.” I wiggled my eyebrows at Gabe and patted the space between Lily and me. Gabe heaved a frustrated breath and jumped onto the bed. He threw out his arms and Lily and I snuggled into his shoulders. I grabbed the remote and pressed play.
“You sure I can’t convince you to come on tour with Wanks and Janks?” I asked Gabe. We were at the airport, shuffling in line to the check-in desk. We’d scheduled our flights to depart on the same day around the same time, so we could get in a final few hours of hang time.
Earlier we’d dropped Lily off at the bus station with a teary goodbye. The past two weeks had passed in a haze. It had been like we were in high school again. I was going to miss Lily. There was no way she would come visit me this summer if Wild Minds was within two miles, so I was facing a long two months without my BFF.
I nudged Gabe and teased, “You can pretend to be a rock star. Sleep on a bus, pick up random groupies, all the truck-stop greasy food you can eat.”
Gabe shook his head, shifting the duffel bags in his hands. He was carrying mine. Such a gentleman. “As tempting as that sounds, I have to spend some time with mom and dad. They’re already pissed I ditched them to come see you first.” Even though I had asked, I knew Gabe wouldn’t come on the tour with me. It wasn’t his scene. And for once, I was glad. I wasn’t sure what Gabe would do if he saw Warren. Those were two people I never wanted to see in the same room.
Gabe was headed to Oregon to spend the rest of the summer with his parents. I’d be a state away, in Seattle, the first stop on the Wanks and Janks farewell tour.
We made it to the front of the line. “They’re not really pissed,” I said on a laugh. Hurting Pete and Mel hurt me.
“No, you know they love you,” Gabe said. He grew serious. I knew that look on his handsome face.
Dread inched up my spine.
I’d avoided being alone with him. We hadn’t kissed again. And we hadn’t discussed our kiss. Lily had been an excellent barrier, my own personal cock block. But I could feel Gabe working up the courage to ask about “us.” He was just waiting for an opening. “Listen, Addy, there’s something I want to talk to you—”
“I.D., miss?” The desk attendant called us forward. I gave a silent thanks for the interruption. Pasting a scarily bright smile on my face, I dug my license out of my backpack and handed it over. The attendant looked at the picture and then at me. He looked at the picture again then at me. “You look familiar,” he said. “Like somebody famous.” He wore a paisley scarf around his neck and his lips were glossed.
I shrugged. “I get that a lot. I have one of those faces.”
The attendant cocked his head and pursed his lips. “No.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, my God! I have it. You’re Billy Wanks’ kid!” He tapped something out on his computer then turned the monitor so I could see. On the screen was a picture of my dad and me when I was seventeen. It was nighttime and we were in Texas. I remember the hotel and the relentless paparazzi outside. It was a week after Wild Minds was booted from the tour, the day I got sent to Oregon to live with Mel and Pete. In the picture, Billy was wearing sunglasses and my hair was a little longer, my face a little rounder, but there was no doubt it was me.
Gabe’s huge palm covered the screen. “Easy there, guy. She’s trying to keep a low profile.”
The attendant nodded sheepishly. “Oh. Right. Of course, Ms. Wanks. Apologies.” He turned the monitor back toward himself and squinted at my I.D. His nose wrinkled. “Hey, if you’re Billy Wanks’ kid, why is your last name Price?”
A thousand butterflies fluttered in my stomach. Gabe’s eyes flew to my face, which felt as if it had gone very white. “I thought you were going to take care of that,” Gabe said.
My voice was small. It felt like a rock had lodged in my throat. “I tried to. He keeps sending the papers back.”
“Addy.” There it was, my name on his lips, and the way he said it, so disappointed.
“What do you want me to do? I’m trying, Gabe. I’m really trying. The asshole keeps sending the papers back. Plus lawyers aren’t cheap. I can only afford the fees to send couriers every couple of months,” I whisper-hissed.
“If you’d just tell Billy—”
“Can we talk about this another time?” I asked, sending a meaningful look toward the check-in attendant. His eyes had gotten big, and he had a look on his face as if he was watching an Oscar-worthy film.
Gabe wiped a hand down his face. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Sorry.”
“I’m checking one bag,” I spoke to the attendant.
He blinked once then got it together. In no time my bag was collected and my ticket printed. “Here’s your one-way economy ticket to Seattle, Washington,” the attendant said, handing over the ticket. It was clear he no longer believed I was Billy Wanks’ daughter. Fine by me.
Gabe and I didn’t talk all the way through security. His face was tight. He was still mad, still shaken up about the recent revelation. But because he was a gentleman and his mama raised him right, he wouldn’t just storm off. He walked me to my gate. My flight was just starting to board. Gabe touched my arm. “Can we talk?”
“Yeah.” I moved to the window, away from the crowd. Gabe followed. Outside the day was clear, not a cloud in the sky.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lose it back there. But if you just told Billy, you know he’d be able to help.”
A knot grew in my belly. He was right. Billy would have my mess cleaned up in no time. But that wasn’t the kind of girl I wanted to be. Running to her daddy for help? I didn’t think so. More so, I was terrified of telling him. The last time I’d done something he deeply disapproved of, he’d sent me away. This time it was worse. Way worse. “You know I can’t tell him. Please don’t ask me to.”
Gabe made a disgruntled noise.
“It doesn’t matter, anyway.” I tried to soothe him. “It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just a piece of paper.” Lie. Big lie. It was a huge fucking problem. It was why I had been denied financial aid. It was why I wouldn’t let Billy book any of my plane tickets. It was why I hadn’t let another man touch me in three years.
“It matters, Addy. It matters a lot. I thought… all this was behind you. I thought you took care of it. It was the last thing. Jesus, Addy, I want us to be together again. I never would have kissed you if I knew you were still married to Warren.”
My flight was slightly delayed on the tarmac at JFK. Once we took off and were safe in the air, I tried to settle and catch up on some sleep. But my thoughts were too preoccupied with Gabe, with Warren and what awaited me in Seattle, with what happened after Europe.
I was in the hospital for a week after Rome. In no condition to communicate with the outside world, Lily kept my phone, texting Billy, pretending to be me. Once I was discharged, Lily handed my cell phone back. Missed calls and texts from Warren lit up the screen. It felt like I was holding a live grenade rather than cell phone. The messages ranged from sweet to enraged.
Warren text: Just got back to the hotel room, where’d you go?
Warren text: Okay, so you’re not in Lily’s room. Ash says he can’t get a hold of her either. Where the fuck are you?
Warren text: Ash said Lily texted. You two went home? What the fuck, Addy?
Warren voicemail: Call me.
Warren voicemail, ten minutes later: Call me right now.
Warren voicemail, thirty minutes later: You’re my wife. I have the right to know if you’re okay.
Warren text: Seriously? You’re just going to shut me out?
Warren text: Baby, please.
On they went, Warren pleading, ranting and railing at me from an ocean away. His final message had my heart dropping clean out of my chest.
Warren voicemail: We have shows in France next week. If I don’t hear from you by then, I’m coming to the States.
I fired off a text, hoping to keep him at bay.
Me: Don’t come home. I’ll call you soon.
Take that, tyrannical asshole. Almost instantly, my phone lit up with an incoming call from War. I didn’t answer, letting it go to voicemail. A text came through.
Warren: When?
Me: When I’m ready.
I turned off my phone. I didn’t call. And I didn’t text again. I blocked Warren’s number. It was too painful to hear his voice, to hear all that I’d lost. When he started calling from unknown numbers, I bought a new phone and changed my number. A totally clean slate. He knew I lived in New York, but he didn’t know what part. I imagined myself in some kind of witness protection program. The person I was hiding from wasn’t a physical threat. He was an emotional wrecking ball.
I glanced down at my ring finger. For a couple months after Rome and the hospital, I’d had a faint mark where my wedding band had been. Once it faded, I had the first round of divorce papers sent to Warren. Even paid extra for a special two-night courier to Germany. They were returned without an explanation. I sent the papers every month for a year. All sent back, unsigned. Finally, I attached a note.
Dear Warren,
Let’s not make this any more difficult than it needs to be. Please sign the papers.
Addy
I thought it was succinct, to the point and very pleasant, mature even. Mentally, I patted myself on the back. Of course, Warren couldn’t resist responding. In record time, I received a reply in a box via my lawyer. No way was I giving Warren my address. The papers had been shredded, and in the middle of the scraps was an index card with a single word in Warren’s messy handwriting.
No.
In a fit, I shredded the note. I sold my wedding ring to a pawnshop and sent Warren the receipt along with a fresh set of divorce papers. For a week, I walked around, a smug smile on my face, until Warren sent the papers back in ashes. Fucking Warren.
I decided to cease and desist. Trust me, I wanted to do more. I had tons of ideas. Most of them ended with Warren’s head on a spike. But I was committed to being the bigger person no matter how hard Warren tried to make me feel small.
So for the last two years I’d sent divorce papers regularly. They followed him everywhere on tour, haunting him like a specter. I was convinced I would wear him down. No luck. So far. All I did was wear down my precious bank account. Money I’d earned working at a greasy diner because I refused to use Billy’s money. What’s that saying? Pride comes before the fall.
My feet rested on my backpack, tucked underneath the seat in front of me. Nestled safely inside was hopefully my last set of divorce papers. This time I was carrying them myself to Warren. Our game of cat and mouse was coming to end. I’d get him to sign the damn decree, even if I had to wrap a pen in his hand and force him to scribble his name. Our marriage would be over by the end of Wanks and Janks’ farewell tour.
Of this, I was sure.
Smiling, I slipped my earbuds in and pressed play on my phone. I listened to Radical Fish. Warren hated the folky indie band. Perfect. I was more than willing to align myself with all things my soon-to-be-ex-husband couldn’t stand. As far as I was concerned, Warren Price could go fuck himself.
The sky was overcast in Seattle. Dark clouds moved with the wind, threatening rain. Pulling on my zip-up sweatshirt, I waited in line for a taxi outside the airport. A black and white checkered cab pulled up beside me. Getting in, I rattled off the name of the arena where the concert would be tomorrow night. Even though his record label was more than willing to put Billy up in a fancy hotel, my father preferred sleeping on the buses. This meant I would be sleeping on a bus for the duration of the tour. Once Billy got his hands on me, I couldn’t imagine him letting me go stay in a hotel by myself.
Just as the cab took off, the rain started, a thick, heavy sheet that made it hard to see out the windshield.
“For business or pleasure?” the cabbie asked me. Through the mesh cage that separated the backseat from the front, I saw he had a crop of orangish-red hair.
“A little of both,” I answered, gazing out the window.
“Big concert tomorrow night. My kid wanted to go, but I think she’s too young. I heard this concert is pretty wild.”
I had a flash of the last time I was backstage at a Wild Minds gig. Screaming fans in the stadium. Women flashing their breasts for autographs. Marijuana and cigarette smoke curling like vines to the sky.
“Yeah,” I said, not bothering to sound too friendly. “That’s what I hear.”
“That why you’re going to the arena? You working at the show?” His green eyes met mine in the rearview mirror.
“No, I’m visiting someone there.” I kept my answer purposefully vague. People got weird when they found out your father was a rock star. On my phone, I scrolled through the several text messages I’d missed while I was in the air. The most recent was from Gabe:
Gabe: Let me know when you get in safe.
Me: I’m here. It’s raining. You get to Oregon?
Gabe: I’m here. Mom and Dad say hi. I saw Wild Minds is touring with Wanks and Janks. You should’ve told me.
I bit my lip and watched the rain slide down the window.
Me: I’m sorry. You mad?
Gabe: No.
Gabe: I’m not mad. I’m worried.
Me: Don’t worry. It will be fine. I have the papers with me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?
Gabe: Okay. Be careful. Love you, Ads.
Me: I will.
Me: You, too.
The rest of the texts were from Billy. I read them in order. The first was from the morning my flight departed.
Billy: When does your flight land?
Billy: What’s your flight number?
Billy: I’ll send a car to pick you up.
Billy: I’ll come pick you up.
Billy: Call me when you land.
Billy: Are you ignoring me?!
I took a deep breath and prayed for patience. I hated it when he was all wound up like this. There was a text from Daisy.
Daisy: Hello! I can’t wait to see you. Please contact your father before he calls the National Guard. That is all. XOXO.
Thank goodness she was there to keep him calm. Without Daisy, Billy would become completely untethered. Quickly, I texted both back in a group message.
Me: Just got in. See you soon(ish).
Twenty minutes later, the cab rolled to a stop outside the massive arena. The rain was still pounding, the sky darkening.
“Would you mind taking me around the back?” I asked, knowing where the tour buses would be parked.
“Sure.” The cabbie reversed the car and circled the arena. “You hear about that rock star? The one who has a nanny but no kid?” Obviously, he was speaking about Billy. The tabloids had loved Billy’s torrid affair with Daisy, running headlines like Billy Wanks’ nanny takes care of him or Nanny knows exactly what Billy Wanks needs. They’d been obsessed with Billy keeping the nanny around after his seventeen-year-old daughter wasn’t. Speculation ran wild. My favorite was Daisy had split our family up. That she’d taken my father’s love from me and I’d been sent away.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
Billy had fallen in love with Daisy a long time ago. At age ten, I’d caught them in the act and my eyes had gone to hell for a few minutes. Over the years, they’d kept their relationship under wraps. They didn’t want me to be exposed to the tabloids and gossip, didn’t want any more of my past dug up. When Billy rescued me from foster care, it was all over the news.
Vicky, my mother, had gotten pregnant with me when she and Billy were seventeen. She’d hidden the pregnancy from him. Billy was just twenty-two when he found out about me and became a kid raising a kid. Last year, Billy had turned thirty-nine. We celebrated in Vegas with a few strippers and copious amounts of booze. Everyone had gone to bed by two a.m. A very respectable time for Billy. My father had finally grown up. Sort of. He was still given to fits and mood swings. But he was a one-woman man now. That’s something.
“Rumor is that nanny of his is knocked up.�
� I hadn’t realized the cabbie was still speaking. “That’s why he’s quitting touring. He wants to stay at home with the kid. Not take it on the road like the other kid he had. Her mom was a druggie. I can’t even imagine.” The cab jerked to stop.
My tongue felt thick in my mouth. I couldn’t respond.
“Fifty-six bucks,” the cabbie said, shutting off the meter.
I dug into my backpack, fished out four twenties from my wallet and threw them into the slot for payment. “Keep the change,” I said hoarsely.
The cabbie counted the cash. “Hey, thanks, lady. You want me to help you with your bags?”
I was already out of the car lugging my duffel and backpack behind me. “No, thanks,” I called, slamming the door. The cab sped off and I was left alone in the dark parking lot. I pulled up my hood, which the rain almost instantly soaked and plastered to my head.
Up ahead, a chain-link fence surrounded a couple tents and shiny black tour buses. I scanned the fence looking for the opening. Ah, security was just off to the right. I headed toward it, my thoughts occupied with what the cabbie had said. There was no way Daisy was pregnant. It will always be just you, little bird. How could I want more children when I already have the perfect one? Billy had said the one and only time I’d asked for a sibling. Shaking my head, I chastised myself. No, Billy and Daisy wouldn’t have withheld such important information. It was just another stupid piece of gossip. I knew better than to believe rumors.
I was so preoccupied with my thoughts I didn’t see the arm come down and stop me from walking through the gate opening. The security guard was huge. Not so unusual. I didn’t recognize him. Unusual. Billy traveled with lots of bodyguards, but I knew them all. They must’ve gotten extra help for the tour. “Where do you think you’re going, missy?” he asked.
Good Lies (A Wild Minds Novel) Page 5
