Deep in the Heart

by Alexa Padgett

  I shrugged. “Yeah…I could see that, maybe in a few years.”

  Carter settled back against the sofa, absorbing my words—and what I didn’t say. Finally, he set his beer on the coffee table and linked his hands between his knees. “I never would have hurt you like that, Cam. I mean, I thought something was up with Da—er, Laurence. I should have told you of my suspicions before you married Kim.”

  “Might not have mattered. I wanted her. I knew she’d been around a bit before we married, but if I’d known that piece-of-shit we called our father was one of the ones screwing her... Still, it’s over now. Best thing to come out of it was knowing Laurence isn’t my real dad. A definite plus in my book.”

  “Mom won’t tell Katie Rose?” Carter asked.

  “Mom’s flat-out forbidden me to talk to her about it. And it’s killing me. Katie Rose deserves the truth.” I shook my head. “I got to thinking about the time you and I’ve lost because of him—how much these secrets hurt us all. I’ve missed you, man.”

  Carter’s smile flashed with the same pain mine must hold. “You, too, baby bro.”

  I rolled my eyes. Eleven minutes. He was eleven minutes older.

  I placed my booted heel on the edge of my coffee table and settled the guitar more firmly in my lap. I strummed without much thought but the zing from the sound caused the hair all over my body to ripple in excitement.

  “Wowee,” Carter breathed. “That’s some sound.”

  I launched into my newest tune, one I’d planned to play for Jenna tomorrow. I’d written it for her, and I loved the smooth, easy progression up the fretboard she’d made me.

  Carter clapped when I finished. “You’ve turned into a great performer. Should have known you would be—all that clowning around you did back when we were kids.”

  With reluctance, I tucked the guitar back in its case and stood. “We should get over to Mom’s. She’s expecting us. Remember, not a word to Katie Rose.”

  My brother nodded as we trooped to the door and out into the hot, humid air of mid-summer in Texas.

  My phone beeped early the next morning with a text from Jenna.

  Going into the shop. I have a new commission I need to start on. Kate’s going to bring me to the concert later because I lent my car to Pop-pop.

  She’d talked to my sister before me? She knew how much I wanted her there, with me, in the Green Room beforehand.

  Wait. I hadn’t talked to her about that—just assumed she knew. And with Jenna, assumptions were almost always dangerous. I called her back, but she didn’t answer. Because she was angry with me for not spending the night? Because she found out my brother was in town from Katie Rose? Or because she was already lost in the new design?

  Hard to say.

  I settled for a return text.

  Missed you last night. My brother showed up. Can’t wait to see your bright face in a couple of hours.

  No response.

  Even after another few hours when I had to leave for the venue, Jenna hadn’t responded.

  I called again, probably acting lovesick and stupid. She didn’t answer.

  I spent enough of my life around women to know I’d hurt or angered Jenna. I didn’t know how or why, though, and her lack of response—my inability to fix the problem—angered me.

  Today was an important day. I’d planned to close my concert by announcing a big donation to the Service Members Fund, offering the large check with Jenna by my side. The couples picture further solidified the image I was trying to build in the media and my fans hearts.

  Unsure what else to do, I called my sister on the way to the venue.

  “You know what’s gotten into Jenna?” I asked Katie Rose in lieu of a greeting.

  “Yes. I caught her just before she planned to go into the shop and she’s spent the morning comforting me because my brothers didn’t see fit to tell me we’re only half-siblings.”

  My stomach crashed into my guts. I ran my hand through my hair. “Katie Ro—”

  “Don’t you dare try to placate me. You all lied to me about that man…he cheated on my mama with your wife.”

  And she clicked off.

  That was a few hours ago. No further word from either of them. Unfortunately, I had to go through a sound check. There was a prop malfunction and we had to return to the stage after the roadies and the venue staff cleared bits of debris from the destroyed fireworks mount.

  Thankfully, no one was hurt.

  But I was frazzled by the time I finally entered the green room.

  When Carter arrived, I told him about my conversation with our sister.

  “Think she overheard us talking at your place last night?”

  I tugged on my lip. “Yeah. She didn’t come down to dinner, but Mama said she’d been home for a while.”

  “It’s either that or your girlfriend told her and is now afraid to face you.”

  I swung around toward my brother, hands fisted. “Don’t talk about Jenna like that. You don’t know her.”

  Carter held up his hands. “I don’t. But you sure are defensive.”

  “Cam,” my assistant Erika said, poking her head into the room. “Time to go.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to ease the sore muscles as I strode toward the stage. Accepting my new guitar from the stagehand was bittersweet.

  I raised my hands as I stepped out onto the stage, frustrated, too, that not only wasn’t I seeing Jenna right now, but my sister hated me and my brother thought I was too fixated on Jenna. But, Jenna had told me she’d be here, and since we were dating, I should matter more than those other customers, more than her parents…shit, I was acting like a selfish rock star. One who put his wants and desires above those he cared about.

  Maybe it was time to say goodbye to the limelight. Shania did for fifteen years—she built herself a normal life, loved her man and her kids—before she considered coming back to the grind of touring and the microscope of media attention.

  Now wasn’t the time for these thoughts, though. I had nearly one hundred thousand active and former military men and women and their spouses to entertain now.

  “Hey, there, Fort Bliss! How’s your Fourth?”

  The roar of the crowd knocked me back on the heels of my boots, but I cupped my ear, wanting to pump them up further. My best concerts came from the crowd’s energy, and I was not feeling this one—even with my beautiful instrument.

  The crowd didn’t disappoint. They yelled and screamed even louder. I smiled, my mood lifting somewhat as I wished them a happy Independence Day.

  I nodded to my band and we segued into the first song—one of my faster hits with lots of catchy lyrics. By the fifth song, I was dripping with sweat from the heat of the lights and enjoying the ability to do this with my life.

  By the end of the first set I was on one of those rare highs that came from a perfectly-orchestrated concert. The crowd was responsive. My band was so on, we were even amping up the bridge before barreling into another chorus. The lyrics poured out of me, all tight and perfect.

  I stepped off stage for a short breather and swiped my face and downed a bottle of water. I glanced around for Katie Rose and my mama, but Carter hugged me hard, rocking me back and forth.

  “You’re epic, my brother.”

  My manager called me back onto the stage. The second set was even better than the first. I finished the last encore to the loudest applause of my career.

  Heading off stage, my grin was so wide I wasn’t sure how it stayed on my face. But it fell as soon as I saw my assistant Erika’s tear-streaked and splotchy face.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. I yanked out my earplug and whipped my guitar strap over my head. I didn’t even know what the problem was and my body hummed with the need to do something.

  “Kate called. She’s with Jenna, and Jenna didn’t want you to stop your concert. Said it was important to your fans. Your sister’s still there, I think. At Jenna’s. She said to call her.”

  “Do you kno
w what happened?” I asked.

  Erika handed me my phone. I swiped the sweaty towel across my face and the back of my neck. Listening to my voicemail, my heart began to pound and my ears rang.

  “Cancel my meet and greet,” I said to Erika, already hurrying down the back hall, calling for Chuck.

  He materialized nearby—always there when I needed him.

  “What’s up, chief?”

  “We gotta get to Jenna’s. Pronto.”

  Chuck didn’t ask more questions. He spoke into his microphone to collect more of my security before pulling the car keys from his pocket, all while hurrying to keep up with my steps.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  I slammed out into the parking lot. “No.”

  21

  Jenna

  I shut off the shower taps when my phone rang. Might be Cam again. I needed to talk to him, even though I wasn’t sure what to say.

  Kate was upset—rightly so—but after explaining what I knew about the situation, she’d calmed down some. But gee whiz-bang willikers, I was doing my best to toe the line—kind of like the tomcat who kept trying to sneak into the building.

  I slipped and slid across the tile of the bathroom and lunged for my phone where it rested on my nightstand.

  “Hello?” I asked, my voice breathless from my naked dash.

  At my father’s voice, as it cracked on my name, I collapsed onto my bed. Shivering, my wet hair stuck to my neck, tears streamed down my cheeks at my father’s words, “Thank god you didn’t go with him tonight, Jen. I thought you’d be there because… Your mother is beside herself.”

  I wanted to deny. My vocal cords refused to cooperate.

  “Jenna? Are you there? Did you hear me?”

  “Yes.” I sucked in much-needed air. My chest hurt more than ever—more than after my stomach was pumped to ensure all the GHB left my system.

  “I’m on my way to the hospital.” He choked up on the last word.

  I gripped the phone tighter, trying to regulate my breathing, but the harsh sound whooshed through the speaker. “Who was hurt, Dad? How…who? I need you to talk to me.”

  “Pop-pop.” His voice cracked. “My father’s dead.”

  No. I shook my head. Mouthed the word. No. I saw Pop-pop yesterday. He winked at me. Told me he loved me.

  “You sure?” I managed to ask.

  “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure,” my father said, his voice rough with regret.

  The ache in my chest expanded as I shivered, pulling my damp knees to my wet chest. I tossed my hair over my shoulder, my back arching as wet rivulets slid down my spine. I wished for a towel. I couldn’t leave my phone. My legs shook too hard to walk across the room.

  He and I breathed into the phone, neither willing to think, let alone speak the words swirling in our heads. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my forehead harder against my knees, needing the pain, anything, to help block out this new, awful reality.

  Dad would rub his thumbs across his eyes, try to dry the tears there. He’d always done that—for as long as I could remember, anyway.

  “Jude and Micah are headed to their respective airports now. To fly in. They’ll be here in a few hours.”

  Dad sniffled. My heart broke because I knew he was crying. My own eyes filled, my nose stung. I slammed my fist against the rumpled sheets. I sucked in a deep breath, sat up straight.

  “I’ll come there. We can do this together.”

  “No! You hate hospitals.” His voice rose with panic.

  I did. The idea of one sent me into a fit of shivers, my stomach twisting with nausea. “This is important. I can deal.” I hoped. My drying skin pebbled with gooseflesh.

  “No. I don’t want to see you right now.” He cleared his throat and probably blushed a bit as he always did when he was embarrassed.

  “What? Why?”

  He made a choked sound and cut off the call. I dropped my phone back on my nightstand and pulled my comforter back over my body, huddling in my bed as memories of the time I spent with my grandfather, how my dad built me a special swing and used to push me on it every evening after work. Those thoughts and myriad others flitted through my mind.

  I called my mother.

  “Jenna, honey. I’m so sorry for what your father said.”

  “You heard?”

  “Yes.”

  And she hadn’t called me. I had to call her. “Pop-pop’s dead?” My teeth began to chatter.

  “Jenna, I know you’re upset, but so is your father. Just…just give him some time. Some space to deal with this.”

  “You’re telling me you don’t want me there, either?” I cried.

  My mother made a strange sound. Not a sob, not a growl, but somehow both. “I love you, Jenna.” She clicked off.

  What the hell just happened? My mother, my savior, my greatest cheerleader, basically told me she didn’t want me to be with my family.

  “Jenna?” Kate called.

  I tried to answer her, but no words came out.

  She poked her head around the door. “We need to get going if you want to be on time…why are you in bed?”

  “My father called.” My voice was raspy from crying. “My grandfather…he’s dead. Car accident.”

  Kate’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. Right. She’d just lost her father a few months ago. She understood.

  “Oh! Jenna! What can I do? Wait. I need to call Cam, let him know we’re not coming.”

  She pulled her phone from her pocket, already pressing buttons. I didn’t have the heart or the will to argue. I laid my head back down, replaying my father’s words, my mother’s, over and over again. I didn’t understand. When Kate checked on me a while later, I told her I needed some time.

  Time floated by and my cheeks grew raw from the tears.

  Sometime later, knocking commenced on my bedroom door. I ignored it, just like I ignored the texts from Kate saying she was in my living room, wanting to comfort me. How could they comfort me? I lost my grandfather—the emotional stability of my life. My dad didn’t want me. Pop-pop was my go-to, always had been. And now he was gone.

  I huddled tighter into my bed, pulling my pillow over my head and bending it around my ears.

  A while later the thick down comforter whipped away from my body, bringing me upright with a horrified shriek. I dropped the pillow and scrambled back, reminded in that moment that I was naked.

  “I was real worried, sugar.”

  “Cam.”

  I pressed my hand to my chest, trying to calm my raging heart. His gaze followed, causing my skin to heat with embarrassment.

  “I’m naked!”

  Cam’s lips flipped up. “I noticed. Good look on you, too.”

  I sprang to the far side of the bed, tugging at the comforter. Cam dropped the other end from his fist and I busied myself with covering my front.

  “Not like you haven’t seen me this way before. Where’s your sister?” I asked.

  “I sent her home with my mother.” He rubbed his hand through his hair before sliding his palm down the back of his neck. “They need to talk anyway. Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Your show…”

  Cam cut me off with a sharp look. “Isn’t as important as this.”

  I scrubbed my cheeks with the edge of the comforter, wincing at the ache there. I needed clothes. Lots of them. I was so cold.

  I bowed my head, not wanting Cam to see my tears. A moment later, his brown, scuffed motorcycle boots slid into my vision and then his arms wrapped tightly around me, warming me for the first time since I stepped from the shower.

  “How do I deal with this?” I whispered against his shoulder.

  He pulled my damp, tangled hair from my face and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I don’t know. Except to tell you to breathe.”

  He thought I meant my grandfather’s death. And, yes, that was part of it. But my parents…what had I done? How did I fix it? My heart rate ratcheted up and I couldn’t get air in my lungs.


  “How?”

  My breathing escalated as I clenched my fingers into his T-shirt. I focused on the logistics. Solving that…maybe it would help.

  “Pop-pop. I can’t…how do I carry on the business without him?”

  “None of that matters right this second. Let me hold you tight while you cry this first bit out.”

  I did. After the last bout of tears, I shouldn’t have more in me, but Cam’s arms were strong and warm and my heart was too heavy with loss. When my tears subsided, I sighed.

  “Feeling a little better?” Cam asked, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I closed my eyes, soaking in the warmth of his breath and skin against my overheated flesh.

  “My head aches.” My stomach growled loudly.

  “And you’re hungry. Haven’t had a bite to eat, I bet.”

  I shook my head. “My father called just as I finished my shower.”

  “That why you’re nude? Not that I don’t enjoy you in your birthday suit, but you’ve never been that comfortable in your skin around me.” He raised his brows. “Seems like I would have seen some exhibitionism by now if that was the case.”

  “I’m not. Comfortable naked.” My cheeks burned.

  “And that’s a damn shame.”

  He tipped my chin up and wiped the last of my tears from my cheeks. He produced a tissue and wiped my leaky nose, much like a mother would for a toddler. Again, my cheeks flamed.

  “I’m a mess,” I moaned.

  “Too right. But you have a reason to be, and I’m content to comfort you. For the moment.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked. I stepped out of his embrace and wrapped my arms tighter around the comforter. Did he plan to dump me, too? Was I that much of a problem?

  I’d thought I was improving. I was more grounded, found my place in the business.

  Now, every one of my insecurities swirled through my mind. Cam would leave, too. Or want me to leave him. Why wouldn’t he? My parents didn’t want me, and I completed his guitar.

  I blinked hard, over and over, until this round of tears dissipated.

  “Just what I said. Right now, you need a shoulder. I got a nice broad one.” He winked. “One’s a bit damp from your tears, but that’s why I have another.”