Exposing Alix

by Scott, Inara

  “Because you’re not yourself right now. You made a mistake with Daisy, and you’re hurting because of it.”

  Ryker took a step back. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I watched the two of you at dinner. I saw how you looked at her, and I saw how she tried to protect you. She was a unique person, and if she’s out of your life, I think you will regret it. Or perhaps you already do.”

  “You don’t know a thing,” Ryker said. “You don’t know a thing about me or Alix. That’s her name, Emilio. Alix. She lied to you about that. She lied about a lot of things.”

  “I’m sure she had her reasons,” Emilio said, unperturbed.

  Ryker had to pause then, because everything Alix had done that night, every lie she’d told was on his behalf. Even he couldn’t argue with that. “Fine. Do you want to know the truth? She left because I was honest with her. She said she loved me, and I told her I didn’t love her back, and I never would. I told her the love she wants is a fantasy, and the sooner she realizes that, the better.”

  “The love she wants is a fantasy.” Emilio repeated the words slowly. “Is that what you said? Is that what you believe, Ricardo—that love is a fantasy?”

  Ryker hooked a finger in one belt loop. “That’s exactly what I think. Alix has this idea that someday she’ll find her ‘true love’ and ‘a love for all time,’ and it’s nonsense. It’s never going to happen.”

  “A lot of people believe in that nonsense.”

  “Like my mother,” Ryker spat. “Look where that got her.”

  “Sometimes when we love, we get hurt. Yes, your mother loved your father, and she suffered because of it, but she never regretted it. Even after he hurt her, she never regretted it.”

  Ryker turned away. “I can’t stay here,” he muttered. “I can’t stay here and listen to this.”

  “She never regretted it because you were the result of that love. And I have never regretted loving you either,” Emilio continued. “I only regret that you never believed it to be true.”

  Ryker felt the bile rise up in his throat. “You don’t even know me. You think you love some boy named Ricardo that you tried to save with your religion and your Mexican heritage. That’s not love. You look at me, and you see a fiction.”

  “I see the same thing your mother saw. I see a boy who was hurt who turned into a man who is afraid to care. That’s no fiction.”

  “You see a boy you tried to remake in your image. You see the boy you tried to create, not the boy I actually was. Or the person I am now.”

  Emilio sighed. “I cannot say I never made mistakes. Or that I would do it all the same if I had the chance. But I never wanted to change you. I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to change yourself to be worthy of love. I wanted to teach you pride and self-respect. I’m sure there were better ways to do that. But never think for a moment I didn’t love you. Because I did. I always did.”

  Ryker couldn’t take any more. The drumbeat in his ears drowned out the world, and all he could see was Emilio’s eyes, dark and fathomless. And then he saw his mother’s eyes, the last bit of color in a pale face, as she lay in her bed at the hospital and squeezed his hand one last time.

  “Tell Rosa I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’m tired of arguing with you. I’m tired of always being wrong.” Ryker turned his back and headed for the car.

  “Call her,” Emilio advised. “You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

  Ryker rolled down his window as he pulled out of the driveway. “Add it to the list.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “I don’t like it, Alix.”

  “You’re the one who’s been after me to finish the damn thing.” Alix held the phone between her shoulder and her ear as she retrieved a particularly big dust bunny from under the couch. She’d only been away from the house for a month, but the dust and sand had piled up in impressive quantities. “I did exactly what you kept telling me to do.”

  “You can’t be happy with this.” Gunther’s voice was a mix of disapproval and worry. Alix could imagine him pacing across his thick white carpet, sipping a martini as he gazed out his back window to the view of Los Angeles below. “It’s disjointed. The beginning is gorgeous, exactly what I always expected. But the ending is terrible. You might as well print it in softcover and sell it in grocery stores behind the counter with the other trashy magazines.”

  “Well, don’t pull any punches on my account,” Alix said dryly.

  Of course, she knew he was exaggerating. But not by much. She’d finished the book days after she’d returned, coldly scrutinized hundreds of pictures for the ones that would have the greatest commercial appeal—the prettiest faces, rosiest lighting—and scribbled some text to go with it. It was hardly on par with dirty magazines, but it fell far short of what she’d been trying to accomplish when she first started.

  And she didn’t care one bit.

  “I don’t want you to look back and regret this. It’s too soon after—”

  “After what?” Alix snapped. “After Ryker Valentine took my stupid, naïve heart and tap-danced all over it?”

  “Too soon since you got back,” Gunther said gently. “Give yourself a little space. Walk the dog, read a book. Or maybe you should do some traveling. I’ve got some time opening up in a couple of weeks. We could spend a few weeks in Europe.”

  “I don’t want to go to Europe.” Alix swatted a giant cobweb off the ceiling. “I want to stay here. With Rex.”

  At the sound of his name, the sleek Doberman jumped up and nudged her elbow. He’d been particularly clingy since she’d returned, not willing to be more than a few feet away, especially at night. Alix paused to pat his head, then continued her cleaning.

  Soft amber light began to fill the room as the sun set over the ocean. It was summer now, and the sky had been clear for weeks, the rich colors of the evening seeming to taunt her with their beauty. But for once she didn’t want romantic sunsets and pink-tipped clouds. She wanted cloudy skies and drizzle. She wanted weather to match her mood.

  “At least wait a month before you submit it,” Gunther said. “I’ll talk to Charlie. He won’t want this out there any more than I do.”

  Gunther was right. She’d already sent it to her agent, and he didn’t like it either. It didn’t mesh, he said. Something felt off.

  Alix sighed. “I’m not changing it. I want the damn thing done and over with. I’m tired of having naked people all over my house. It’s time to move on. You said it yourself.”

  “But not like this. You’ll regret it later. I understand why you’re rushing it, but please, libeling, you’ve put in years of work. What happened with Ryker doesn’t change that.”

  Alix almost laughed out loud. Of course what had happened with Ryker changed things. It changed everything. She’d spent years searching for perfect expressions of love. She’d even thought herself skilled at uncovering the real from the fake. But she’d learned the hard way that she didn’t know a thing about love.

  Anyone could be fooled.

  Even her.

  Alix cleared her throat. “Let’s drop it, all right? How’s the movie?”

  “They’re editing. It looks good so far. Ryker’s been an absolute prick. Thank goodness he’s done with the actors.”

  Alix closed her eyes at the sudden lurch of her heart. She didn’t care why he was being a prick, she told herself sternly. She didn’t. “Jake and Lena are getting married, I hear.”

  “Yes.” Gunther practically purred with satisfaction. “The picture’s getting all kinds of buzz. ‘See the movie that brought Jake and Lena back together.’ You can’t buy that kind of publicity.”

  “Probably just a matter of time before he cheats on her again,” Alix said darkly.

  “Don’t,” Gunther said. “Don’t let him turn you like this.”

  Alix fought a sudden rush of tears. She swallowed hard, trying to clear her throat, but no sound emerged.

  When the silence between
them lengthened, Gunther swore. “As soon as this movie is done, I’m going to kill him. I swear.”

  Alix wiped her hand across her nose. Rex’s tail thumped against the floor, and she turned to look down at his golden eyes. “I just had something caught in my throat,” she managed to say, forcing a cough.

  “Right. Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe I should come down there.”

  “You’ve got other things you need to do. I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine.”

  “I’m fine,” she insisted. “I’ve got Rex, and I’ve got you. What more could a girl ask for?”

  He sighed deeply. “I know it doesn’t mean much, but I’m sorry, Alix. I’m so sorry.”

  She sank down on the floor, unable to prevent the fresh flood of tears. When she could speak again, she whispered softly, “Me too.”

  #

  “Mr. Valentine, phone for you. It’s your sister Maria. She says it’s an emergency.”

  Ryker sighed and took the phone from the nervous intern who hovered a few feet from his shoulder. He’d turned off his cell phone precisely because he didn’t want to be interrupted. It had been a long day of editing, and he wanted to be done in time to get to a publicity planning session at Gunther’s house. Maria had been calling him every day since his fight a week ago with Emilio, and it was driving him crazy.

  “Maria, I’m not going to call Emilio,” he snapped. “And I’ve had enough of—”

  “Ryker, please. Papa’s had a stroke.” Maria’s voice wobbled.

  Ryker froze. “What?”

  Maria choked back a sob. “I was stopping by the house, and he was just sitting there by the TV. He couldn’t move or talk or anything. We brought him to the hospital. They’re giving him a CT scan right now.”

  “Jesus.” He closed his eyes and grabbed the arms of his chair. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “We don’t know.”

  Ryker had to take a deep breath then, because suddenly the room was spinning. “Where are you?”

  “White Memorial.”

  “Who’s there?”

  “Everyone. Tony’s home with the kids. We just got here.”

  Ryker frowned. “Maybe I shouldn’t—”

  “Ryker.” Maria’s voice broke, and there was silence on the line. Then, faintly, she said, “Ryker, please come.”

  He stood up and looked around for his keys. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  #

  When he reached the hospital, Ryker parked his car and sat for a moment in the quiet. Though part of him wanted to throw himself through the automatic doors, another part dreaded what he’d find. Had he done it again? Had he pushed someone away, only to find himself regretting it later—after there was nothing he could do about it?

  Maria met him by the nurses’ station. She threw her arms around his neck and immediately began to cry. He held her tightly, fighting the prickle at the back of his own eyes and the tightness in his throat.

  Damn it, Emilio had deserved better. In his singular, authoritarian way, Emilio had done everything he could to make Ryker a success. He had pushed Ryker in school, stood over him to make sure he finished his homework, and sought out scholarships so he could attend USC. When Ryker started hanging with a tough crowd, Emilio manufactured projects for him—home repairs, yard work, anything to keep him off the streets. It hadn’t made Ryker like him, but, looking back, what choice did he have? Ryker knew he hadn’t been an easy kid to befriend. He’d carried around so much anger in those days, it was a wonder Emilio had stayed with them at all.

  Ryker had been mulling over Emilio’s last words to him ever since their dinner. I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to change yourself to be worthy of love. Was that what it had all been about? The endless fights over his name, over speaking Spanish, over all the things Ryker had taken as a rejection of who he was. It had never occurred to him that Emilio knew exactly what his mother had done, all those years ago, in her efforts to attract his father. Or that Emilio might have been trying to help him become more at peace with the heritage he’d never fully accepted.

  Alix was right, a quiet voice whispered in his head. You love him. And you never told him.

  Just like you never told her.

  Maria lifted her head and smiled. “He’s awake.”

  Ryker blinked furiously. “Awake? As in, he’s okay?”

  Maria pushed back a strand of hair that had fallen from a makeshift bun on top of her head. “We don’t know the extent of the damage yet. He can’t speak and can’t move his left side. But it’s early. And he’s alive.” Tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. “You should go see him.”

  “Do you…” Ryker swallowed and cleared his throat, feeling more like a ten-year-old at that moment than he ever had before. “Do you really think he wants me there?”

  Maria punched him softly in the arm. “As far as he’s concerned, you’re his son. How can you ask that?”

  “I just thought…”

  “Stop thinking. You do the most damage when you do that.” Maria took his hand. They walked down a series of hallways until they reached a room with windows facing the hallway covered by a thick curtain. Hector and Eduardo were coming out of the door as he approached. They looked like they’d been through hell, with red-rimmed eyes and tousled hair, but both gave him huge, relieved smiles.

  “Glad you’re here,” Hector said as he threw his arms around Ryker and slapped him on the back.

  Eduardo did the same, murmuring something that sounded like, “Love you, man,” his voice thick and hoarse.

  Ryker started to say something in return, but they just stood there and beamed at him, and something in their eyes made it difficult to speak. They wandered away a minute later.

  Ryker watched them drift down the hall together. They were boys, really, and he was their big brother. How could he have forgotten that?

  Maria tugged his hand again, and he followed her into Emilio’s room. The fluorescent lights gave everything a pale, greenish cast, and a wall of machines beeped and flashed from beside the bed. Rosalia sat in a plastic chair with her head bowed, holding a rosary of red beads and a gold cross over Emilio’s hand. His eyes were closed, but when they entered, he opened them and turned his head to the door. He looked calm, an oxygen tube in his nose and his face oddly distorted, one side of his lips sagging while the other remained mobile. He pulled his hand from Rosalia’s grasp, and she sat up abruptly, looking around as if startled by the sudden movement. When she saw them at the door, she stood but made no move toward them.

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” she said stiffly.

  Ryker winced. “I suppose I deserve that.” He tried to hug her, but she was rigid, cold in his embrace.

  “You two should have some time together,” she said, inclining her head toward Emilio.

  Ryker started to protest, but Emilio nodded.

  Maria and Rosalia left the room. Ryker stood for a moment, unsure what to do. Emilio motioned to the chair, and Ryker sat, listening to the machines beep and praying they continued to do so.

  Silence stretched out between them. Emilio beckoned him closer with a tiny movement of his fingers. Ryker leaned forward hesitantly. Emilio motioned again, and Ryker bowed his head, his cheek practically touching the bed sheet. When he felt a gentle hand on his head, Ryker closed his eyes, laid his head on the bed sheets, and let his stepfather stroke his hair.

  When he looked up, Emilio was staring at him, tears running down his face.

  Ryker wiped his own eyes and laughed shakily. “Damn it, Papa. When I said I was tired of arguing with you, I didn’t mean I wanted this.”

  They sat for a moment, Ryker struggling to find a way to make sense out of his tangled emotions. He thought about Hector and Eduardo, brothers he never called or invited to his house. He thought about Rosalia, still a child when her mother died, struggling to keep the family together. He thought about Maria, so determined to believe herself to be the black sheep of the
family, when she was, in fact, the sanest of them all.

  Then he thought about Alix. Alix, who understood better than he did how much he loved all of them. Who had offered him her own love, even when she knew she was destined for heartache.

  And he realized just how much he had lost.

  He stared at the bed for a long time, until words came spilling, unbidden, from his mouth. “She told me I was being an ass,” he said. “Alix told me that. She said I was scared, and I pushed you away because of it. She said I was a hypocrite, and I think she was right.”

  Emilio watched gravely as he spoke. The room grew quiet, the beeping machines taking over the tiny space. Finally, Emilio nodded his head, just once.

  “You put up with a lot over the years. You put up with my temper and my ego. You loved my mother like she deserved to be loved, and all I could see was that I’d failed. I knew I wasn’t the son my biological father wanted, and I figured you were even less likely to want me. So I didn’t give you a chance. I pushed everyone away, even people I loved, because I was scared they might not love me back. I wish I could have seen that before now. I wish…” He trailed off, imagining the pain in Alix’s eyes before she walked away. “I wish I hadn’t been so blind that I pushed away the person I cherished most.”

  Emilio’s eyes were dark and sorrowful. Though he didn’t speak, Ryker felt certain he understood everything that had been said.

  “Prouuud…” The word slurred and passed through Emilio’s lips like a sigh.

  Ryker swallowed hard, blinking furiously as a thick lump pushed up in his throat.

  Emilio stared at him, his body practically shaking as he forced his mouth to form the words. “Alwaysh…prouud…”

  A tear dripped down Ryker’s nose, then another as the strong, hard man who had been his only father gazed down at him with that familiar, unrelenting stare.

  “Even now?” Ryker whispered. “Even after I hurt her?”

  “Mi hijo…” Emilio whispered, beckoning toward him until Ryker gathered his hands together and held them, warm and steady, against his heart. “My son.”