Torn

by Deborah Bladon

  I kiss him then, softly, slowly, the pressure just right, the taste exquisite.

  "I love you too, Asher," I whisper as I slide my lips along his cheek to his ear. "I love you too."

  ***

  "I had Daniel, the head of my security team, go see Karen."

  My head darts up. I've been working on some of the photographs of the Reynolds family since we got back to Asher's apartment after dinner. "Does she live in New York?"

  "No." He sits next to me on the couch. "She was visiting her family here. She's living in Tennessee now."

  I'm glad to hear it. I felt exposed after that call. "I still don't understand how she knew my number."

  He slides closer to me, until he's resting his hand on my knee. "Daniel told me that she stopped by the recording studio to see me. She called a mutual friend who gave her the address. He's not a mutual friend anymore."

  I scratch my forearm before I finally look at his face. "That doesn’t explain how she knew my cell number. I was at the studio with you but I didn't have a sign around my neck with my name written across it."

  "She's gone back to Tennessee now." He cups his hand over mine. "There's also a restraining order in place now. She can't come anywhere near me or you, for that matter."

  My stomach lurches. I try to tug my hand away, but he holds tight.

  "It's a precautionary move, Falon. She followed you and Eli from my studio to your apartment. She was outside the next morning and she followed you to your studio. Your name is on the building's master list by the buzzers. She put two and two together and found your site which has your number listed."

  My head spins with all that information. "Why would she do that? You ended things years ago."

  "She's recently divorced. She saw that picture of the two of us online and it triggered something in her."

  This is what I don't want. I don't want my entire life upended because he's famous. I like to be hidden away, in a safe corner of New York, doing work that I'm proud of.

  I shake my head as I look down at my laptop's screen. "Your life is so different than mine. I felt that at the concert in Philadelphia too. It's a lot, Asher. This is all a lot for me."

  He moves to the coffee table, sitting on it as he pulls on my knees to separate them. He tugs on my hips so I'm close to the edge, almost in his lap.

  "You have every right to want to protect yourself. I will never let anyone hurt you. I won't let you doubt how much I care for you."

  I want to believe him but there's this nagging voice in the back of my mind that says that he's a hot rock star and that alone, complicates life in ways I can't imagine.

  "I know you care about me." I rest my hands on his knees. "I also know that your music is your passion. That comes with a lot of bullshit. I'm going to need you to help me deal with all that."

  "We'll deal with it together." He squeezes my hands. "I'm going to do the twenty-two dates on this tour and then switch it up. I've always wanted to do small venues. I dream of doing intimate shows with just me, my guitar and the songs I love."

  It's a leap of faith but he's Asher, my Asher now. "I have a lot of work coming up over the next few months. I landed a contract with Bishop Hotels. I have to travel for that and you have to travel for the tour."

  "I have a phone, you have a phone and my brother owns a private jet." He rolls his eyes. "The family company does. I can use it to come to wherever you are when I have a break. When I can't come to you, we'll talk on the phone as much as we can."

  "I want to try." I rest my hands on his broad shoulders. "I want to try and make this work."

  "No trying, Falon. We'll make it work. I know we will."

  CHAPTER 44

  Asher

  The knocking at the door startles both Falon and me. I was kissing that sweet mouth and was just about to carry her to my bed when someone decided that now would be the perfect time to fuck up my plan.

  "You should get it," she whispers into my mouth. "I can go get naked on the bed."

  "Fuck, Falon." I look down at my sweatpants. "I'm popping a tent right now. How can I answer the door like this?"

  She laughs, the sound loud and throaty. "I'll get the door. You adjust that thing before you scare anyone."

  I watch as she bounces to her feet, adjusting the hem of the long blue sundress she's wearing. Her hair is tied up in a tight ponytail. She's a dream come true. This is my dream come true.

  "Have we met?" Caleb's voice fills the space. I can't see the door from here but I suspect my brother was headed out for a night run and needs another bottle of water. It looks like Falon is going to meet at least one member of my family tonight.

  "You're Falon, aren't you? Noah told me a lot about you when you were working for him." Make that two. That's Gabriel's voice.

  "Where is my son?"

  My world stalls then. That's the voice of the man who I made Father's Day cards for in grade school. He's the man who told me he'd die if I did. That's my dad.

  All three of them come into view at the same time. They're almost all the same height with the same dark features. That's where the similarities end. My brothers are massive, both strong men who work hard to stay in shape. My dad was the same at one point, but that's changed now. He's let retirement eat away at him in more ways than one. His hair has grayed; he's sporting a belly now. He looks exactly like a grandfather should, if a man actually wanted to be one.

  "You were right, Junior," Caleb rounds the table to pull me into a hug. "She's beautiful."

  I wrap my arms around him, patting him on the back. "I told you. I took your advice."

  He looks back to where Falon is standing next to Gabriel. She's fidgeting from one of her bare feet to the other.

  "Falon." I brush past Caleb to reach out my hand to her. She takes it easily. "These are my brothers."

  "Gabriel." Gabriel turns and extends his hand. Falon looks down at our intertwined fingers before she lets go to take Gabriel's hand in hers for a quick shake.

  "You and I met." Caleb walks up behind me. "Nar-Con meeting. It was years ago."

  My jaw drops. I look at Falon's face before I turn to look at Caleb. "You've gone to a meeting?"

  "Meetings," he replies. "Too many to count. Your beautiful friend wasn't at them all, but she was there, at a few."

  "I usually go to the ones in Brooklyn," she offers in a small voice.

  "Is there coffee any better than that shit they serve on Morningside Drive?"

  She chuckles. "No, it's just as bad."

  "I'm Roman." My dad moves so he's standing directly in front of us. "You're the girl who loves white roses."

  Falon blushes but her eyes never leave my dad's face. "I do. How do you know that?"

  "Asher's mother told me," he divulges. "There were white roses in his hotel room in Philadelphia. He told her they were for you, for his girlfriend."

  She finally looks up at me. "You had roses in the room? I didn't know that."

  "They're your favorite."

  She nods softly, her hand reaching back for mine. "I'm going to go home now. Will you call me later? Once you've talked?"

  I want to ask her to stay. Fuck, I want to beg her to stay. My father and brothers don't drop in for Sunday night social calls. I know I have to face this alone but I don’t want to let her go.

  "My driver, Charles, is downstairs, Falon." Gabriel scoops his phone out of the pocket of his jeans. "I'll call down. He'll drive you home."

  "I can take a cab." She turns to look at him. "I don’t want him to go to any trouble."

  "No trouble. He'll take you home."

  She nods, before she leans up to kiss me quickly. Before she pulls back, she rests her head against mine. "I love you, Asher. I cherish you."

  ***

  "To what do I owe this pleasure?" I sweep my hands in the air. "It's not often that all of us are in the same room. What's going on?"

  Gabriel brushes past me towards a leather chair. He sits down, crossing his legs at the knee. "I don'
t have a clue. These two showed up at my door and pulled me away from my wife. It better be worth it."

  I turn back towards Caleb. "He did the same to you? He showed up and ordered you to come here with him?"

  "Not quite." Caleb adjusts the front of his dress pants. "I picked him up from the airport two hours ago."

  I shouldn't be surprised that Caleb knew where he was the entire time. He's protective of dad. He's the one who still sends him a box of expensive cigars on his birthday.

  "How long have you known that he's been on his way back here?"

  "I came as soon as your mother called." My dad steps towards me. "She called the office of the Cruise Line. She said it was urgent. They patched the call through to the ship."

  "So you raced back here?" I hear the sarcasm in my voice. It's dripping with anger and disappointment. "I've been trying to call you for weeks. You couldn't return one of those calls?"

  His eyes drop to the floor. "I turned my phone off. I was on a retreat."

  "A retreat?" I parrot back. "You were on a luxury cruise ignoring your family."

  "Think what you will." He looks right into my eyes. "I was on a retreat, contemplating my life. That happens when you get to be my age."

  "You couldn’t contemplate your life while returning an important phone call?"

  "I've been a horrible father, Asher." His hands tremble as he folds them together in front of him. "I want to change that now."

  I shake my head as I cast my eyes up to the ceiling. "You don't even know how ironic that is. You can't know how fucking ironic that is."

  "I do know." He drops his face into his hands. "I know that I've failed each of you."

  I'm not going to argue him on that point. He's right. He has failed us all. He checked out when he and my mom divorced. He set course on a new adventure that involved shallow women and lonely holidays. It was by his hand though. I don't feel an ounce of pity for him.

  "Why did you come here?" I look at Roman directly. "Why drag them along with you? You can't face me yourself?"

  He raises his chin. "This is about our family."

  I laugh. It's so hard that I roll my head back and grab my stomach. "Which family? The one you abandoned? Or the one you and mom pretended to have before you finally bit the bullet and walked out?"

  Caleb rests his hand on my shoulder. "You need to take a breath, Junior. Let him talk."

  I spin around. "It's easy for you to say that. You don't know the things I know."

  "What the fuck am I missing?" Gabriel interrupts before Caleb has a chance to respond. "I feel like an outsider."

  I shake my head. "You feel like an outsider? That's almost laughable, isn't it dad?"

  I hear my father break before I turn around to see it. He's on his knees, his face in his hands as he sobs, loudly.

  Caleb moves around me, pulling him to his feet. He leads him to the dining room table, setting him into a chair. He kneels next to him, his hand stroking my father's neck, whispering something to him.

  I walk past the table and into my bedroom. I yank the envelope from where I'd left it on my bed. I grab the flash drive and my laptop.

  Gabriel watches me as he stands near the table. Caleb is still trying to console my father. I want them all out. Once I play the voicemail they'll get why I'm so fucking pissed off. They'll leave and I can too. All I want is to find shelter in Falon's bed, in her arms.

  I open the laptop. It takes fucking forever for the screen to pop to life. Just as I'm sliding the flash drive in, Caleb's arm grabs my hand. "Don't put him through that, Asher. Don't."

  I turn towards him, yanking my hand free. "You don't know what the fuck this is. Once I play it, you'll understand."

  He moves closer, his hands jumps to cup my neck. He holds me there, his gaze boring into me. He swallows hard. It's so hard I can see his throat move with the motion.

  "I've heard it. Caterina tried to sell it to me months ago. She's just a money hungry bitch. Let it go."

  "Let it go?" I rest my forehead on his. "You don't get it. You don't know what it's like. You belong with them. I don't anymore"

  His eyes fill with tears. My brother, the one who I've never seen cry, weeps right there in front of me.

  "I don't belong." His voice is no more than a whisper. "That voicemail isn't about you. It's about me, Asher. I'm not his son."

  I inch back so I can stare at his face. My eyes move across his wide forehead to his dark brows and his brown eyes. I study his lips, his nose and when he moves to embrace me, I pull him into my arms. I weep with him, for him, for myself and for my dad.

  "What does that mean?" Gabriel pats me on the back. "You're his son, Caleb. You're my brother."

  Caleb pulls back and wipes his face on the sleeve of his dress shirt. "I'm your brother. I won't let anything change that."

  "What's on that flash drive? Can someone explain exactly what the fuck is going on?" Gabriel's voice is edging anger.

  "I will." Caleb pats Gabriel on the shoulder before he leans back down to kiss my dad's forehead. "It's okay, Papa. It's time."

  CHAPTER 45

  Falon

  I swing open the door to my apartment, ready to bundle Asher into my arms. It's not him. It's my mom. Her face is ashen, her eyes bright red.

  My lips tremble. My mom has never been to my apartment. She hasn't stepped foot in my studio. I don't remember the last time I actually saw her in Manhattan. It may have been a decade ago, maybe more.

  "Mom?" I pull on the sash of the robe that I wrapped around me when I got out of the shower. I left Asher less than an hour ago. I don't know how long it takes to sort through a life's worth of lies. I expect to see him tonight though. I think he'll need me. "What are you doing here?"

  "Can I come in, Falon?"

  The mention of my name draws fear to the surface immediately. She doesn’t call me that anymore. She writes it in my birthday cards, when she tucks a ten dollar bill in the envelope. She never says it though. Not out loud.

  "Come in." I pull on her hand. She's still wearing the white dress that she always does when she's in the bakery. She has a closet full of them, all neatly pressed and lined up ready for her. She must have gone to the bakery after Asher and I left to go to his apartment.

  Her eyes take in the modest surroundings. I've done little in the form of decorating. I can afford it, but I don't see a point in wasting money on a new lamp or a side table if I'm not going to live here that long. I'll stay put until I've saved enough to move to Europe, unless, Asher and I…

  "This is a nice place." She brushes past me towards the two large windows that overlook the street below. "It's a quiet street. It's not a far walk from the subway."

  "You took the subway here?" I move next to her. "Why are you here? Has something happened?"

  She pushes the lightweight cardigan she's wearing off her shoulders. "It's warm. It's hot enough outside to melt your bones."

  I smile. It's something she's said for years when the summer heat blankets the city. "I can get you something cool to drink. I have water or lemonade."

  "Lemonade if it's not too much trouble."

  I turn towards the kitchen, still unsure of what drove her out here, but thankful that I was home when she arrived. An hour earlier, and she would have been greeted by silence when she knocked on my door.

  ***

  She licks her lips as she hands the empty glass back to me. I'd left her to drink it when I went into my bedroom to throw on a sundress and panties. I had pulled a brush through my wet hair and pinned it up. The entire time I kept peeking around the corner to make certain that the image of her sitting in my living room wasn't a mirage.

  "Asher is a very nice young man."

  I look up. I feel a small amount of hesitation as I reply. My mom and I have never discussed the men I date. It's just not something we've done. "He's a good man. We have a lot of fun together."

  "You love this man."

  It's a statement. There's no implication of a question the
re. She's right. If I hadn't already said it to Asher, I would admit it to my mom now. "I do love him."

  She buries her face in her hands for just a second. "Children are a gift. You are a gift to me, Falon."

  My mom doesn’t say those things directly to me. She feels them. I sense that she does but I don't expect her to tell me. It's not her way. She shows her love in her baking and her cooking. It's there in the care she takes to make sure that we all get our few minutes to spend with her each week.

  She's my hero. She taught me something priceless when I was a child. She taught me that hard work will bring its own rewards that money can't buy.

  "I know that I am." I twirl my hair around my index finger.

  She looks down at her lap. "I heard you and Asher today. I heard you when I came into the dining room."

  I panic briefly, trying to remember if there was something I said that would hurt her heart. We spoke about family and how she calls us Girlies and Lads. We talked about love, our love and then we said goodbye to my family and left.

  My mom hugged me tighter today than she ever does. I took it as a token of appreciation for the money I slipped into her apron. Maybe that's not what it was at all.

  "You were always my Falon." Her voice cracks slightly. "I wanted a little girl that I could name after my best friend. You are her."

  I never asked my mom why she chose my name. I always felt that I lucked out with it. It suits me well. "You had a best friend named Falon?"

  "Many, many years ago, before I met your dad. She was my very best friend."

  "What was she like?"

  Her eyes drift off towards the windows. "She was like you. Strong, very smart, her heart was as kind as your heart is."

  "Does she live in Brooklyn? Can I meet her one day?"

  She checks her watch. "She died. Cancer came to get her."

  "I'm sorry, Mom," I say softly. "I had no idea."