But the truth was I bought the house with her in mind. It hadn’t been about the size or opulence of the place, although I knew the style of the house was something Tatum had always wanted. No, I didn’t get it to flaunt money or the famous lifestyle. I got it because I imagined filling the huge place with our kids. The yard was plenty big enough for a pool and swing sets, and there were massive trees all over the property that I’d pictured building a tree house in with mine and Tate’s son one day.
The neighborhood was safe, and I’d even scoped out the school district prior to buying, learning it was one of the highest rated in the area.
The house had always been for her and the family I wanted us to create together.
“It might seem a little imposing, but I swear it’s comfortable. Unlike Garrett’s place. Before Gwen moved in, it looked like a goddamn show house.”
She didn’t laugh or comment, just hesitantly moved through the space, checking everything out.
“You’re safe here, baby. I promise,” I told her when her silence became too much to bear. “Nothing will touch you here.”
She stopped and turned to regard me, clutching her overnight bag in front of her in a death grip. “But that doesn’t take care of the problem out there.” She tipped her head in the direction of the door. “I can’t stay cooped up in your house forever, Deck. And the second I step through the gates out front, it’ll happen all over again. As far as all those people are concerned, I’m the bad guy. Hiding out here isn’t going to change that.”
I didn’t have the first fucking clue what to say to make her feel better because, whether I liked it or not, this was my fault. If I hadn’t forced my way back into her life, she never would’ve been attacked earlier. She never would’ve had her name smeared for everyone in the country to read or hear.
“I’m sorry,” I finally managed to croak past the intense emotions lodged in my throat. “I’m so fucking sorry, Tate. But I swear to you I’ll make it right.”
The smile she gave me was more pitying than anything else, and the fact that she didn’t believe me hurt like a rusty blade carving through my skin.
“Can you point me in the direction of the bathroom? I need a shower. I’ve got spit and God only knows what else all over me. Please tell me you’ve got a heavy-duty loofah or something.”
Taking her bag and grabbing her hand, I guided her up the stairs to my room, tossing the bag onto the bed before leading her into the spa-like en-suite. It had a huge steam shower with six showerheads, and a deep Jacuzzi tub. Instead of starting the shower, I twisted the taps on the bathtub, making the water nice and warm. Then I scoured the cabinets beneath the double sinks until I unearthed a bottle of bubble bath I had for whenever Liddy was over. She liked to put on her bathing suit and go swimming in my tub when she came to stay with Uncle Deck.
“You have bubble bath,” she mumbled quietly. “With a cartoon princess on the bottle.”
“Liddy,” I answered with a small, reticent grin. “I’m her favorite, so whenever she needs a babysitter I’m the first choice.”
Tate stood motionless as I poured the glittery pink soap into the tub. Once the bubbles started to form, resting along the surface of the water, I turned to her and gently helped her undress, cursing my dick for getting hard at the sight of her naked body when what she needed most was comfort above everything else, not me going all caveman and pawing at her.
“You relax,” I told her, adjusting the dial for the lighting until it was nothing more than a soothing, faint glow. “I’ll be downstairs making some phone calls. Stay in here as long as you want.”
“Thanks,” she muttered, watching the level in the bathtub rise.
Placing my fingers beneath her chin, I tilted her face until it angled up, then pressed a firm kiss to her lips. She didn’t respond at all, and my heart plummeted. “Holler if you need anything,” I whispered, then left, praying the fear of losing her that was currently twisting my gut into knots was just an overreaction.
“I can’t believe this is happening right now,” Eugene balked through the line. You guys are supposed to be on the plane to Asia in two goddamn days! This scandal couldn’t have come at a worse time.”
“I don’t give a single shit how fuckin’ inconvenient the timing is, Eugene,” I growled, quickly beginning to lose my cool. “Stop harping on the fucking Asia shows and fix this!” I hung up and launched the cell in the direction of the couch, not caring at all whether I missed or not.
The only thing I gave a damn about was currently in my bedroom, but might as well have been a million miles away for all it mattered.
Tate had been upstairs for the past five hours. The only reason I wasn’t scared she’d drowned in the tub was because I heard her moving around a while back, and when I’d gone to check, she’d been curled up in my bed, wearing nothing but one of my T-shirts and passed out to the world. I’d left her in there, knowing the nap would do her good, and gone back to working on fixing this fucking mess. The rest of the guys got word on the clusterfuck swirling around Tate and me and had rushed over about three hours ago. Gwen—with Liddy in her arms—Gina, and Corrie were with them. They had gone upstairs to offer my girl moral support and hadn’t come back down since.
Meanwhile, I’d been fielding phone calls on my phone, barking “no comment” at every asshole trying to probe into my personal life, plus monitoring Tate’s phone for any calls from her folks since they should’ve been arriving at any minute. The damn thing had been ringing off the hook, every number unknown and unanswered.
“You know damn good and well who this was,” Garrett snarled, pacing my living room and dragging his hands through his long blond hair. “Should’ve killed the fucker when I got my hands on him after the shit he pulled with Gwen.”
“I know.” I cast my eyes to Ian, who was standing at the window, talking in low tones on his phone. The dude had more connections than anyone I knew. He’d find out for sure that it was Chris who went to that gossip site, and as soon as we had the proof, I was gonna nail his ass to the wall.
Tate’s phone rang just then, and I looked down to see Camden’s name pop up on the screen. I quickly engaged the call and brought it to my ear. “Cam. You got Deck.”
“Shit, man. I’m so fucking sorry it’s taken me this long to call. I’ve been in the air. I didn’t even know what the hell was happening until I touched down in Chicago. This shit’s crazy.”
“Tell me about it,” I grunted, reaching up to rub at the tension building in the back of my neck. Every muscle in my body ached from being strung so tight.
“You know it’s not true, right? She’d never—”
“I know. Thought never even crossed my mind.”
He let out an audible sigh of relief. “Good. ’Cause she’d never do that to you, man. And I wouldn’t either. I might not have been your biggest fan at the beginning, but I’m not stupid. I see how good you are for her now.”
I lowered my head and my voice at the same time. “Appreciate that, man. Glad she’s had you at her back all this time.”
“You and me both. Wouldn’t be where I am now if it wasn’t for her. How’s she doing?”
Heaving a defeated breath, I collapsed into a recliner and propped my elbows on my knees. One hand held the phone to my ear, and I used the fingers of the other to massage my forehead. “Not good. She was… Christ, she was attacked by some rabid fans earlier when we were trying to get out of the building. Spit on her and everything. One bitch even ripped at her hair. She’s been disconnected ever since.”
“Fuck,” he hissed. “I was afraid that was gonna happen.”
“What?” I sat up straight. “Why?”
Camden hesitated for a while before finally speaking up. “Look, I’m not telling you this as an attempt to put blame on you or anything, but you need to know in order to take care of her the way she needs to be taken care of.”
“Know what?” I barked impatiently.
“She hates this industry, man.
Like really fuckin’ hates it. She blames the fame for what happened between you guys. Said it turned you into a totally different person. Getting her to go with me to that award show was a months-long process. It was like pulling teeth every single time I wanted her to attend an event with me. She went because she’s a good friend, but she loathed every goddamn second. So the fact that there’s a media circus currently circling her like a pack of rabid wolves? Yeah, she’s not gonna handle that well.”
“Goddamn it,” I sighed, dropping my head.
“I’d be there if I could, I swear. And I’ll join up with you guys in Asia just as soon as I’m done. In the meantime, you call with whatever you need, okay? I’m here. You let me know what you want me to do, and I’ll do it.”
“Guard at the gate just called,” Ian rumbled, drawing my attention to him. “Valentines are on their way up.”
Son of a bitch. This was going to be ugly. I just knew it.
I put my focus back on the call and asked, “I don’t suppose you have any tips on how to handle her folks.”
The asshole actually started laughing. “Sorry, bro. You’re on your own. Helene’s the shit, but John Valentine scares the piss outta me. And he actually likes me.”
Jesus Christ, could this day get any worse? “Thanks a lot,” I grumbled.
“Like I said, call if you need anything. That includes identifying your body if Tate’s papa bear murders you. I’ll be in touch.”
With that, he hung up. And my front door burst open.
“Where the hell’s my daughter?”
The answer was yes. Yes, this day could, in fact, get worse.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Declan
John Valentine came barreling into my living room like a raging bull looking for the stupid son of a bitch with the red cape. And at that moment, it appeared that I was the one with the cape.
Christ, the man was even bigger than I remembered. He stood well over Garrett, who was a good six and a half feet, and even topped Ian, who was a goddamn beast. And age hadn’t done shit to diminish his frame. He looked like the type of guy you’d expect to see eating raw steaks for every meal and ripping phone books and bowling balls apart for exercise. He was fucking terrifying.
“You!” he bellowed, pointing a long, thick finger my way. “This is all your fuckin’ fault!”
“John, enough!” Helene came scrambling up behind him, the complete opposite of her husband in every way. Short, curvy, and with an abundance of flaming hair, Helene Valentine could easily pass as Tatum’s slightly older sister. Age had barely touched the woman. She was still a looker. “You promised before we got here that you wouldn’t go off half-cocked.”
The older man crossed his tree trunk arms over his barrel chest. “Yeah, well I changed my mind.”
“Well change it back, right this second, or so help me God, you will not like what I do to you.”
The only thing I had going for me was Helene’s support. John might’ve had size and strength on his side, but his wife had always been the one to wear the pants in their family. He wouldn’t dare cross her.
“John, Helene. Good to see you. It’s been a while,” Garrett said in a conversational tone.
“Hi, Garrett. It’s good to see you too.” Helene came forward and placed a kiss on his cheek. The Viking suck-up had always been every parent’s favorite all our lives.
“Anyone ever told you that you need a haircut, son?” John grunted in way of hello.
“He cuts his hair and I’ll be pis—angry. And he doesn’t want to answer to me.” We all turned at once to see Gwen coming down the stairs with Liddy on her hip. “Hi,” she offered with a kind smile as she reached Tate’s parents. “I’m Gwen.”
“My wife,” Garrett threw in, coming up to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “And this is our little girl, Liddy.”
“Well hello, Liddy,” Helene cooed. “Aren’t you precious?”
“My daddy says I’m a princess,” she replied before turning her inquisitive eyes to John. “Wow,” she breathed. “You’s really big. Can you squash people like bugs just like Ian?”
“Sure the hell can,” he mumbled under his breath, giving me a glare that could melt the polar icecaps.
“Language,” Gwen and Helene chastised at the same time.” Leave it to Baby Mama to have no fear and go head-to-head with a man more than double her size.
“Uh, guys,” I started, wishing I could melt into the walls instead of facing Tatum’s father’s wrath, but that wasn’t an option. “How about we move into the living room. Are you hungry? Thirsty? You’ve been on the road for a while.”
“I’m not here to make pleasantries. I want to see my daughter,” John demanded.
“She’s sleeping right now,” Gwen told him. “Our friends Gina and Corrie are up there with her right now. I only came down to see what all the yelling was about. Maybe you should take some time to cool off and talk to Declan about what’s going on before you see her. Let her get some rest.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Helene agreed. But John was having none of it.
“No offense, little lady, but you don’t know the first thing about me or what I need to do before seeing my little girl.”
“You’re right. I don’t know you. But I’m a mother, and I’m Tate’s friend, so I’m on the side of her best interests right now. Not yours.”
“Ooh, darling. I like her,” Helene whispered to Garrett from behind me. “She’s absolutely perfect for you.”
“Don’t have to tell me,” Garrett returned, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I also know that your daughter is currently perfectly safe and sleeping upstairs. She isn’t going to disappear into vapor in the amount of time it takes for you two to take a load off after a fourteen-hour car ride. And I really think it would be best to get the full story from Declan so you know exactly what’s happening, and everything that’s transpired in the time it’s taken you to arrive, before you go up there. Don’t you agree?”
John actually seemed to be considering what she said. Then, seconds later, he turned and stomped on his giant feet into my living room, making himself comfortable in the recliner I’d been sitting in right before he showed up.
Note to self: never, ever screw with Gwen Wilder. She’ll skin you alive.
Helene followed suit, after giving me and the other guys warm greetings on the way in. She rested casually on the couch, crossing her ankles demurely, always the picture of pure class. And when it came to her, it wasn’t an act. She was the real deal from top to toe.
“So fill us in,” John stated.
I took a seat on the other end of the couch, across from Helene, resting my forearms on my knees and clasping my hands in front of me. Mace and Kill stood sentry behind us. Garrett and Gwen took the love seat, with him balancing his little girl on his lap, and Ian remained by the window, mumbling into that goddamn phone.
“There was a story posted late last night on several celebrity gossip sites. It detailed my relationship with Tate from the time we were kids until the time we broke up. Whoever leaked the story came from inside our camp, because they had information that had never been made public.”
“You mean like you cheating on my girl and breaking her heart?” John rumbled, making me feel an inch tall.
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “That and… there were pretty explicit pictures posted about that night.”
“But what’s that have to do with Tate?” Helene asked, her forehead creased in concern.
“Well, that’s where the article went off course and started posting lies about her. It even went so far as to claim that she’s having an affair with Camden Knight as some sort of revenge. The internet is basically tearing her to shreds. She was handling it. But then….”
“What?” John snapped.
“She was assaulted by some… overzealous fans after the news broke. She wasn’t physically hurt, but there was a lot of name-calling and… spitting.” Retelling that parti
cular horror story to Tate’s folks was one of the most difficult things I’d ever had to do. I could still recall the stricken look on her face in the car as tears ran down her face. I didn’t think I’d ever get that image out of my head, and it made me sick to my stomach.
Helene sucked in a disgusted gasp as John boomed, “Someone spit on her? Are you fu—” He stopped when Gwen lifted a chastising brow. “Are you kidding me? All because you’re famous?”
“Well, it wasn’t just because of me. It was her connection to Camden too. He’s got a pretty big fan base as well, and they’re not too happy with the idea of her using him to get back at me.”
Helene’s eyes shone with unshed tears as she muttered, “My poor girl.”
John leaned forward in his chair. “So what are we doing about tracking the as—man who posted these lies?”
Ian, who had just disconnected his call, stepped into the fray. “That’s where I come in.”
“You Ian?” John asked. “The one who squashes people like bugs?”
His mouth quirked like he was trying to fight a smirk. “That’d be me. I’m the head of security for the band. I’ve got a buddy back in Virginia who owns his own security and private investigation firm called Alpha Omega. I got in contact with him earlier today, and he’s been doing some digging.” Ian’s eyes came to me. “Looks like you were right about who you thought leaked the story.”
“Fuckin’ knew it,” Garrett snarled.
“Mommy! Daddy has a potty mouth!” Liddy shouted.
Gwen stood, hoisting her daughter up with her. “I’ll let you guys finish this conversation while I take this little monster into the kitchen for some ice cream.”
Liddy shouted with glee as they disappeared, and we got back to it.
John looked around the room, his eyes landing on each of us before asking, “Why do I feel like there’s something I don’t know?”
“Our old manager, Chris Evers,” Mace answered. “We fired the bastard when he leaked private photos of Gwen and Liddy a few months back. Fucking Chris Evers.”
Defile (Civil Corruption Book 2) Page 22
