Runaway Girl (Runaway Rockstar Series Book 1)

by Anne Eliot

  Royce nods.

  “Good, because I meant to quit today anyhow. I’m happy that the baby will be reunited with the person she must miss very much. I know what it feels like to grow up without a mother so yeah, it’s best that she’s going to be involved. It’s time for you to get on with your lives, and I just found out that I’ve got to return home and deal with what I left behind, so there’s not much to talk about besides saying goodbye to you all, right?”

  Vere, finished with the diaper, hands the baby off to Adam and stands. When the awkward silence between all of us stretches way too long, while Adam, Royce and Hunter are in the middle of doing some sort of silent shrug and glare conversation, Vere gives me this helpless look and whispers, “Can we talk about the amazing wall art in this place, then?”

  She wanders from corner to corner, letting her hands trail over Cara’s work. “I love it. Words painted all huge like this are so cool. This room.” She breathes in, spinning and admiring. “It’s like it’s breathing. I don’t know which wall I like best.” She spins more, until she pauses, eyes rolling some because she’s made herself dizzy. “Whoa.” She draws an affectionate smile from Hunter, then from all of us as Hunter hops up to make sure she doesn’t tip over.

  Watching them, I suddenly feel so alone. I think it has to be the best feeling in the world to have someone who knows you so well—who loves you so perfectly—that they’re already standing there and putting their arms around you before you know you’re falling.

  “Who did all of this beautiful art? Robin, is it yours?” Hunter asks, joining Vere in her tactile tour of the cottage’s walls.

  “Oh—um.” I swallow, wrapping my arms around my waist while swearing to myself that I can catch myself from falling just fine, and answer, “Cara—that’s Angel’s sister—she painted it all.”

  “She’s fantastic.” Royce turns and runs his own hand against the wall painted with the word love.

  “She…was fantastic,” I correct, wondering why my tummy won’t stop hurting. “She passed away ten years ago. These walls were the last work she ever did.”

  “Oh.” Vere’s smile folds into frown. “Sad.”

  I nod. “Yes. Yes it was. Very.”

  The awkward silence stretches between us all again, and finally Royce, face grim, walks over to block my nervous pacing. “Look. Robin. There’s some things we have to tell you. Whether you want to hear the lies or not, I’m going to make the executive decision here and force you hear them all.” He glances at Vere, and she nods like he needs some sort of encouragement. “Shit. I don’t know where to start.”

  I take in the planes of his beautiful face and study the different tilt to his eyes, because they’re flooded with an emotion I don’t recognize, and despite his naturally confident stance, I could swear the guy is shaking. That mask of cynical disdain he usually staples on after he slips like this, is still not on his face. I wonder if finally, today, I can reach him and force him to listen.

  “Fine. Okay.” I close the gap between him and I, locking my eyes to his. “But I have some things I need to get off my chest, so I talk first. Deal?”

  “Okay. Yes. Go ahead, because I need to gather my thoughts.”

  “Chicken.” Adam laughs under his breath, earning a murderous glare from Royce.

  Adam’s taken a baby bottle out of the diaper bag and, without looking up at any of us, starts feeding the baby while he’s got her nestled perfectly into the crook of his large bicep. He’s doing those small, comforting circles under her back, and we all smile as the baby’s eyelids start drooping heavily.

  “We’re waiting. Say what you need to say.” Vere smiles, and Hunter pulls her in front of him into a hug as he leans against a wall. “Is anyone else getting surges of nervous laughter?” Vere squeaks out.

  “I might be,” Adam says, and he and Hunter share a chuckle. “Maybe it’s all of our outfits. Like are we all really—”

  “Shut up!” Royce steps forward a little. “None of this is funny. We’ve potentially messed up Robin’s life, and her head must be wrecked from hanging around us all week. Now, the newspaper article has made everything much worse—and sue me if I don’t know what to say to her but I’m sure not about to laugh. You all know the outfits are necessary costumes needed for the rest of this night to succeed, and goddamn you all for any laughter.” He points at me. “Robin, I think—”

  “Hey.” I hold up my hands. “I said, me first—and unlike you, I know exactly what to say.”

  Acting like I’m not about to puke, I head into the small kitchen and busy myself with grabbing a bag of chips and pouring them into a bowl so I can munch a few then pass them around. Maybe they get nervous giggles, but I get nervous snacking urges. “First,” I start, shoving a chip in my mouth to hide the waver in my voice. “If you catch a whisper that the press is heading this way, none of you can stay here.” I glance outside, noting the darkening sky. “I won’t let the Perino family or my little brother be part of any media circus.”

  Royce and Adam seem to wince slightly at that comment, and suddenly they’re both reaching for handfuls of chips.

  “Did either of you hear me? I need a promise. I can’t have the Perinos in any sort of spotlight.”

  “Okay. We can promise people will leave immediately once the press—if the press—is spotted here, but we can’t promise that you and your little brother will be exempt from the media.” Royce gives Hunter a pointed look and paces back to the kitchen window to grab a glass of water and pull down the blind. “What’s next?”

  “Second,” I continue, “after this conversation, we are all finished. I walk away, you walk away, and we’re done.”

  “Uh…” Royce shifts his feet, looking more and more tormented. “That we can’t promise, either. Like I said, we mean to protect you and your little brother from the fallout that article is going to cause. We will have to see each other until things are set right—maybe a lot.”

  Adam, who’s still gingerly holding the sleeping baby and expertly putting away the baby bottle with one hand, adds, “Maybe she means she’s done being a nanny? We could promise that. Your working days are over.” He looks hopefully over at me.

  “Friends are forever, though, Robin.” Vere’s big brown eyes go wide. “I’m sure you don’t mean we’re done in that sense, do you?”

  “What you all don’t understand is that I’ve also lied. It’s why I need to go home, and my lies are the reason that you must cut all ties with me. You can’t imagine how bad the next newspaper article will be if you don’t get rid of me in every way.” Shaking more now, I tear my gaze from Royce’s probing silver-fire eyes. I also avoid looking at Vere again, because I don’t want her to be unhappy.

  Adam says, “Your lies have to be kindergarten level compared to the fiasco we’re stuck living in right now.” He’s smiling, trying to joke and smooth things over like he always does when there’s stress in the air. But then he adds, “Guarderobe will get worldwide press on this prostitute story, and we might be out of contract compliance with our record label so we might get fired, but I think we win the this live-in, pleasure-prostitutes story. What could you have possibly done that could make this story worse? Did you get a C-minus back in your small-town high school and forget to turn in your biology textbook and they’ve finally caught up to you?” He laughs at his own joke. “It’s got to be baby-level stuff.”

  “Yeah. How bad could it be? I bet you’ve only ever been grounded by your dad for having a messy room,” Royce adds, sitting on the old chaise lounge by the window.

  I gasp like I’ve been punched in the gut. How dare this guy bring up my dad? My dad would lose his mind to think of what Sage and I have been through since he went missing. Worse, if he knew what went down in that closet he’d nail Royce to a wall but good. Then my awesome father would ground me for kissing someone I hardly knew in that same closet. Even though I’m eighteen now, he’d lock me into a tower and make me dig holes and ground me. And if he showed up to do e
ven half of that, I’d be so darn happy and grateful.

  Only Dad’s not coming. Not today. Today, I’m still the responsible adult.

  I try to gain some control over a wash of moisture creeping out of the edges of my eyes.

  I will not cry. I do not cry. Do not cry.

  Joanie’s voice rockets between my ears: You will have to face the idea that you could be orphans.

  I try to replace all the voices and worries in my head with my Dad’s words, like I always do: One day, one moment at a time. But this time, it doesn’t work. This whole time, I’ve been staring at Adam, who’s now settling the baby onto the couch and keeping her safe from rolling. He’s braced her half with his legs, half with a barrier of couch pillows. All while Royce, the world’s worst father, who is supposed to be doing this task for his own daughter, fails her yet again.

  All of my real responsibilities and worries about Sage and our lives flood in until I snap. “That’s what you all think about me? That I’m some kind of baby? Aside from Vere, while you’ve been growing-up, working your surreal TV jobs and getting stockpiles of money by skipping around the world and completing high school with tutors and red-carpet events on the side? Oh, and being adored while staying in hotels that look like crystal-filled Persian palaces and eating room service, I’ve been around, too. I’ve moved seven times. The last move, we’d settled into Fort Bragg, North Carolina where our dad took a job as a Special Forces Captain. It was supposed to be a desk job, but then he was deployed to God knows where. Because often, if you’re Special Forces they aren’t allowed to disclose where they’re going, nor are they allowed to tell us after they’ve been assigned somewhere. The rumors flying around are that he went to Africa, but in case you haven’t noticed there’s a lot of countries in Africa.” I pull in another shaking breath. “No one’s told us which country yet or even confirmed the Africa rumor. When he was deployed, Sage and I went to live with a guardian. She’s the wife of Dad’s good friend. She was doing my father a favor by keeping us with her for the deployment. Only, once our dad went M-I-A along with her husband, she changed. Or maybe we changed, I don’t know. Either way, their status as missing has stayed unresolved for over a year.” I shrug. “I’m sure you can all imagine how that favor to keep us became a pain in her ass. She wanted to put Sage into foster care after I moved away to art school. Which is the real reason behind why I’m not going to New York City. I can’t. I’ve run away with him instead. Okay? Because we don’t have any other family besides each other. And my dad— my dad who’s a great dad —he would expect me to try to keep my brother with me. That’s why I came here, trying to find work.”

  “Holy shit,” Royce stands up and begins pacing the length of the room.

  “I’ve also taken care of my little brother like a real parent since he was two years old, because the mom we had?” I blink at all of them. “She ran out on us thanks to a little fun thing called heroin. And she’s never looked back. We don’t even know if she’s alive or dead, either.” I point at the now sleeping baby. “I learned what I know about babies by volunteering at a local teen mom shelter every day after school. One that’s got leaky pipes and smells like mildew. It’s also overflowing with sad girls and tiny babies just like your baby—you—horrible, neglectful, idiotic excuse for a father, you…Royce D-D-Devlin!”

  I point at Royce which stops him in his tracks momentarily.

  I change my voice from a scathing whisper to pure white-hot hissing fury. “It’s a place full of girls whose jerk boyfriends or…worse, assholes from one-night stands knocked them up and then ditched them while they were pregnant. Like what you obviously did when you decided on your careless, no-condom moment with this baby’s mommy.” My voice cracks. “Were you even there for one minute of the pregnancy or the birth?”

  Royce is shaking his head. “No. I wasn’t.”

  Adam and Vere have gasped at my harsh outburst, but I ignore them—fully intent on Royce’s answer. On getting my points across.

  He rubs two fingers in his eyes before saying, “Robin, I’ll tell you again. She’s not my baby. But despite that, I do care about her. And I want her— we all want her— to have comfort and love until her mom arrives.”

  “What are you going to do when the mom comes here?” I demand. “Ditch the baby with this mom? Pay her off so she doesn’t have to go on tour? Am I right? Is that what’s up, and why all of the lawyers are rushing in here? You should be ashamed of yourselves.” I glance at everyone in the room. “All of you? How can you participate in this horrible sadness?”

  “No. That’s not why the lawyers are rushing in,” Royce says, biting his bottom lip, his expression growing even more dark.

  I press my hands against my ears to slow the blood-rushing sound that’s happening inside my head. “Yeah, sure. Now that I know you better, Royce, I can hear you orchestrating all of this plan.” I bark out a sarcastic sounding laugh. “I’ll just bet it was your idea to come here once the article came out. I’ll bet you said stuff like: What will the tabloids say if they find out?” I’m mimicking his low-low voice. “How will this ruin things more for my charmed and beautiful life? Better to cover it all up, and then cover it up some more. Let’s go hide out at Robin’s place which is very far from La Belle Paris to handle the part where the mom comes back. Hey, and if we do this right, we can have it all done, and the baby gone before tonight’s show!” I blink at them all. Their faces are shocked. Adam’s got a hand over his mouth and his eyes are so wide they look like they’re going to fall out. “Does that sound about like what’s going on?” I shout.

  Vere shakes her head slowly, as I continue, “Well, now what’s the plan now that you’ve discovered your paid-prostitute ‘closet-girl’ is also an underage, homeless, teen runaway kind of paid prostitute? Any ideas there? Anyone?”

  Vere’s mouth drops open, as does Hunter’s. I figure it’s a case of pure shock, because no one’s probably ever stuck a reality check to them like I just have.

  Royce sighs and paces around past the little kitchen and into the studio. He’s nervously going around my work table, picking up brushes and fiddling with the tubes of acrylic I’d left on the table. “Sadly, that does sound exactly right. And yes, we have a ton of ideas, but taken out of context it all suddenly sounds horrible. And for the record, Robin, it was Mrs. Felix and Gregory’s idea that we come here. The rest of us only heard the latest plan in the van on the way here. For once it was not mine. There’s where your assumptions went wrong. But again, we are trying to protect you.”

  “Is that the new-new plan,” I say hysterically. “Or the new-extreme plan?”

  “Oh wow. Oh, God. What have we done?” Hunter puts both hands through his blond hair, and he and Vere share another look while everyone else has gone completely still.

  “It’s nice to think that this silence means you’re all finally hearing me.” My voice gets higher as I motion to the baby. “Royce, you can make a new plan. One that includes you being that baby’s real daddy. Reconcile with her mom somehow. Bring them on tour, even if it’s difficult. Be there while she learns to crawl and walk, and talk. Don’t leave this baby behind.”

  When he starts shaking his head, a tear escapes, burning down my cheek because the longing for my own dad grows even heavier inside my heart. “Don’t talk anymore. You need to let me finish.” I hold up my hands, choking on my breaths as he paces one more lap around the table in the studio. “Your utter denial that this baby is not yours makes me hate you. Really, hate you. And, truthfully, I’ve never hated anyone in my entire life.” Another tear rolls down my face. “It breaks my heart and has actually made me crazy.”

  “I’m sorry for that, Robin. It’s obvious this has gone so far out of—control.” He’s reached the windows in the studio and pausing there, he has leaned over to glance my painting. “Holy-shit, speaking of out of control. What the hell… is this?”

  I quickly squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t have to look at him, looking at the painting I
created of him. When I open them again, it’s obvious Royce has shown everyone the painting I’ve made of him.

  Adam whistles. “That was beautiful. You’re so talented, Robin.”

  “Gorgeous,” Vere adds, while Hunter says, “Vere. You were right. Totally right.”

  “See? Absolutely crazy,” I whisper, wondering what Vere was right about, while avoiding Royce’s eyes. “You weren’t supposed to see that. It’s just a painting so…” I place my hand over my forehead, wishing for some Tylenol.

  Adam’s voice reaches me past the pounding in my head. “I knew things were bad, but we have seriously messed her up, haven’t we?”

  Royce speaks finally, “I’m so sorry Robin. The crazy that you’re feeling is because of us. If it helps…damn, girl…but I love this painting so much.”

  Because his voice is so far away from the shouting or rude Royce that I was expecting, and he said ‘damn girl’ just how he did with the same low voice he used when he kissed me in his closet, it’s undone me.

  Suddenly my tears stream down my cheeks uncontrollably. “You all say you came here, trying to protect me, but I don’t think that’s possible. By running away, I’ve already messed everything up. I can’t go back and undo what I’ve done. But you haven’t totally bombed out yet, Royce.” I point at the sleeping baby through my tears. “Can’t you see I’m trying to save you?”

  “I do see it. And as much as you hate me, it’s made me adore you beyond belief. You don’t even know me, and every day I’m more and more humbled that you care about people so much. I love how that you can see such potential inside of me, despite everything I’ve been, said, and done.”

  I blink back some tears, nodding—hoping he’s finally going to hear me. “Oh you do have it. So much p-potential. You—you gave Sage that thoughtful present, and you ran out to save Adam. You rode those rollercoasters even though you didn’t want to, and you have this worry-compulsion that could really work well as a parent. You would be a natural. Please. Claim her. She’s going to give you so much, and you will give her…m-more. You’ve all said how this life of yours is hard, and scary and oppressively lonely. She’s going to need a daddy, if that’s true. To be brave, strong and be her champion—her rock. The kind of dad that’s her hero.”