Trey

by Madden, A. M.

  “Livi.”

  She lifted her adorable little head to meet my eyes. “Momma!” she called, abandoning her doll and her friends to charge toward me. I caught her in my arms, nestling my face in the crook of her neck. When I pretended to nibble on her sweet skin, and she squirmed while giggling, all was right in my world again.

  Chapter 6

  Trey

  Just as I wrapped a towel around my waist, my cell phone buzzed where it lay on the vanity, Leila’s smiling face displaying on the screen.

  Hitting the speaker icon, I greeted her by saying, “I’m fine, Little Lair.” That wasn’t entirely true, but Leila couldn’t help with the anxiety that plagued me. How I managed it was another story, and so far utilizing my personal gym had been the method of choice whenever temptation reared its ugly head.

  “I know you are,” she bantered back. “We’re ordering dinner and wanted to know if you’d join us.”

  “Lei, it’s three p.m.”

  “I know. But we’re just relaxing and thought maybe you’d like to come by and hang out until then.” The request itself wasn’t unusual. Leila often invited me over to ensure I not only ate regularly but did so with people who loved and supported me. Still, I saw right through her motive tonight.

  “Lei.”

  “What?”

  “You’re as subtle as a gas explosion,” I teased.

  “What are you talking about?”

  I rinsed the razor beneath the running stream of water and wiped the excess shaving cream off my face. “I know that you know the results should be coming any minute now.”

  “Oh, is that today?” She pretended ignorance, and at hearing my exaggerated scoff, she amended, “Okay, fine. I thought it might be easier for you to be with us when you—”

  “No,” I blurted out, stopping her. “I’m sorry,” I quickly went on to say. “I know you’re trying to be there for me, and I appreciate it. But I think I should do this alone.” Maybe it was my own subconscious realizing the significance of the moment as being a very personal one. It was important that I jump off that cliff without anyone willing to catch me. This was on me.

  “I understand,” she replied. “But if you change your mind, or if you need us once you know…”

  “I’ll call you immediately.”

  “Good. We love you, Trey.”

  “I know. I love you too.”

  Once she hung up, I stared at my reflection long and hard. Over the past year I had definitely mastered putting up a brave front. I may not have been close to undoing all I’d accomplished in my constant battle with sobriety, but I’d be lying if I said numbing myself hadn’t still held appeal… especially at times like this.

  The day we all met with Camilla I had stuffed my angst into a box until the time came when I’d have to deal with it. It would never have occurred to me to research different labs who handled paternity tests. From what I knew, you took the test, waited weeks upon weeks, and got the results. But thanks to Jack and Leila, who’d had their own experience on the subject a few years back, I would have the results only three days after having given my DNA sample.

  I had yet to tell the rest of our band but wanted to wait for a definitive answer before opening that can of worms. Now that I had that answer within reach, part of me debated on taking Leila up on her offer to be with me when I opened the email.

  Funny how the idea of a child no longer terrified me. I could attribute that only to Tara and I having decided to adopt just before I lost her. And now, if anything, finding out that Alivia wasn’t my daughter was what scared me. It seemed ridiculous that a man like me, who had never intended to have a kid, would mourn if a little girl I never even met turned out not to be mine.

  But in the past few days, all I could think about was that adorable face. Still too young to hate me and too young to resent my absence in her life. Most likely, if she were older, it wouldn’t matter that I hadn’t known she existed, just that I wasn’t there. I had time to change any opinion she would form with age. I had time to fix my absence and be there for her from then on.

  With a sigh, I plopped down on my couch and stared at my laptop. I had been procrastinating all day, but it was time to finally check my email. My fingers trembled as I lifted the lid and tapped on the application. Sure enough, there in bold was a new email from the lab. I couldn’t bring myself to open it. What I was about to read would forever change my life, one way or another.

  “If you’re mine, Alivia, I promise to make up for all I missed,” I said, clicking on it with one quick jab of my finger. My eyes bounced along the information in the body of the email, all of which had been benign. A spike in my nerves escalated when I saw the tiny paperclip attachment symbol and tapped it with more force than necessary to open the page. Again, I searched, scrolling down the image until I landed on what I needed to see.

  Conclusion:

  Based on our analysis, it is practically proven that Mr. Trey Taylor is the biological father of the child Alivia Felice Deron.

  She’s mine.

  A large lump of emotion swelled in my throat, preventing air from escaping my lungs.

  And it wasn’t regret or distress that caused my entire body to tremble. It was fear. The realization that I now had a piece of me that I could easily screw up with my fucked-up life. It was knowing that I suddenly could be held accountable for all my poor choices. It was the pressure of keeping sober for more than just myself.

  Besides all that, what did I know about kids other than witnessing Jack and Leila’s brood? What I knew about little girls was even less. The doubts went on and on, and I could probably come up with a hundred other trepidations.

  But my anxiety no longer mattered, because I had a daughter.

  After receiving the results, I quickly called Leila to share my news before impulsively arranging for Alec to pick me up and drive out to Queens. I was acutely aware of his eyes on me in the rearview mirror, but he remained silent, giving me the time that I needed with my thoughts.

  Now that I was there, sitting in front of the tiny house she lived in and lurking in a creepy way, I second-guessed my decision. What if I fucked things up again once Alivia got to know me? What if I disappointed her? What if she grew to hate me when she got older?

  The more I stared, the harder it was to imagine Alivia in my world. She obviously had a very simple life, living in a modest neighborhood that was worlds away from the lush lifestyle I’d been blessed with. There was Camilla, a single mother, most likely struggling to give her daughter a good life. Meanwhile, I pissed away a ton of money for so many years while taking for granted how precious life was. Sure, I had enough cash to immediately alter their quality of life, but was that enough? Could I even bring anything of substance to my daughter’s life that wasn’t material?

  Shit, even parked on the street lined with tiny houses while I sat cozy in a fancy Cadillac felt so very wrong. Except for their exterior colors, most of the houses looked identical with their postage-stamp-size front lawns.

  There weren’t any people rushing about coming home from their workdays. It was quiet, bland, devoid of life. In fact, there was only one person out on her street. The man next door eyed the black Escalade suspiciously as he pushed his manual mower across a ratty patch of grass.

  Regardless, it seemed like a nice neighborhood. The main road a few blocks away contained all the necessities—dry cleaner, bank, supermarket, subway access. It was all very convenient, safe, simple.

  All the more reason that I couldn’t just sit there. And as if the universe rolled its eyes and sighed, the man stilled his task and pulled out his phone.

  “Trey, I may need to move,” Alec said, stating the obvious after noticing the man himself. “That dude doesn’t look happy.”

  “Yeah, I see that.” I shoved a ball cap on my head and slipped on my dark sunglasses. With one foot out the door, I added, “Don’t wait here in case he’s looking to cause trouble. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

  A
lec gave me a nod as I climbed out of the SUV to stand in front of the small, weathered home. Digging out my cell from my back pocket, I tapped the contact that I had saved the day after Camilla appeared at my building.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Trey,” I announced right off the bat.

  “Oh, hi… um… you got the results,” she said, and it wasn’t a question.

  “I did. Actually, I’m outside.”

  “What?” Gone was the soft, concerned tone she’d offered a few seconds ago. “Why are you here?” she hissed.

  “I want to see her.”

  “Well, I’m not ready for that.”

  “I really don’t care, Camilla,” I barked back.

  “Your attorney clearly stated once we knew paternity, we would meet again to discuss my paperwork.”

  “Nor do I care what my attorney said. As far as I’m concerned, you should’ve been ready the moment you came to me. You knew I was Alivia’s father. And now that it’s proven, I want to meet my daughter.” A long stretch of dead air forced me to check and make sure the call between us was still live. “Camilla,” I finally said when she remained quiet. “All I want to do is meet her. Please.”

  More silence followed, and the longer it stretched the more I worried she wouldn’t allow me to see Alivia. Until a soft sigh came before she said, “The side door is mine.”

  Following the cracked concrete path that bordered the house, I reached the door just before it opened, and Camilla appeared.

  “Hi,” she said, gripping her own arms defensively.

  “Hi.” Faded jeans, a graphic T-shirt, and a messy ponytail had her looking much younger than she was. She truly was beautiful, in an unassuming way. “I’m sorry I came over without notice. But I figured if you knew, you would’ve stopped me.”

  “You figured right,” she quipped with a raised brow. “I feel like we’re breaking every rule, Trey.”

  “I was never one to follow rules.” A small thump coming from the apartment above caught her attention. “Come in.”

  Slipping off my cap and glasses, I followed behind her up the tight narrow staircase and into a small apartment. Windows across the main wall made it very bright and warm. A tiny kitchen shared real estate with both the dining area and living room. The high-end desktop computer set up on a wooden desk in the corner seemed to be the only thing of value in her place. Otherwise, it was sparse in furnishings, but functional.

  The television played a cartoon with a little girl in a lab coat, but Alivia wasn’t watching it. Just before I asked where she was, she appeared in the doorway, holding a baby doll and wearing tiny jeans and a T-shirt with a giant cat’s face on it.

  Alivia looked so much like her mother, same caramel-brown hair, same button nose and pouty lips. Except for her vivid blue eyes, which seemed to be the only physical trait that she’d received from me.

  Time absolutely stilled. In the one photo I had she looked adorable, but seeing her there before me, in the flesh, literally knocked the wind from my lungs. My regret list ran long, so many damn things I wished I never did. Marrying my wife, Tara, wasn’t on that list. Neither was finally getting my head on straight after I lost her. And that night I shared with Camilla also wasn’t something I could regret… not when it had created such a perfect little person.

  “Mommy, who’s that man?” she asked in an adorable raspy voice while eyeing me suspiciously. I needed to fight the urge to blurt out that I was her daddy, to close the distance between us and wrap her in my arms. Having that urge confused me, especially when I’d never had a paternal urge before. And while being overwhelmed with so many unfamiliar emotions, one that resonated clearly above the rest, one that I was extremely familiar with, was guilt. This child should have been mine and Tara’s. She should have been born into this world from love, not from a one-night stand.

  With a smile, Camilla dropped to her knees before Alivia. “Sweetie pie, this is my friend Trey.”

  “That’s a funny name.” Alivia scrunched her nose while continuing to measure me up. “Why do you have pictures on your arms?”

  An unexpected chuckle rumbled through me. “I don’t know.”

  “Can you erase them? I have a Hello Kitty eraser. Do you want it?”

  “No, that’s okay.” I motioned toward her T-shirt. “Is that who’s on your shirt?”

  Golden-brown pigtails skimmed her shoulders as she looked down at what she wore. “Yes,” she said, pushing her tiny finger into her belly. “I love her.”

  “Sweetie…” Camilla took her daughter’s hand, our daughter’s hand, between hers. “Would you like to show Trey your favorite park?”

  “Yes, please!” She hopped up and down, causing her ribbon-bound waves to bounce around her shoulders.

  “Okay, just for a little while before dinner. Go get your sneakers for me.”

  Alivia scrambled out of the room, leaving me alone with Camilla, who slowly rose to her feet and shrugged. “This way you can watch her play. She tends to ask a lot of questions, and we need to talk about how you should answer them.”

  “Okay,” I said, a bit relieved. I had no idea how I would answer any question she’d throw my way. I wished I’d brought Leila with me. She’d know what to do. I remembered the first time I had met Shane, but that was different. The kid idolized rock stars, and his love of guitars had given us an instant bond.

  What did I possibly have in common with a six-year-old girl?

  Chapter 7

  Camilla

  Regret was a heady emotion to handle, especially when every fiber of my being regretted telling Trey he had a daughter.

  There had been a few times over the years when guilt from keeping Alivia from him had tormented me. The first time I built up the nerve to reach out, I’d seen him all over the entertainment channels in leaked photos of a compromising situation with two women. I watched as he toured the world, drinking his way from city to city, and who knew what else he indulged in.

  Then he’d met his wife, Tara, and seemed to have calmed down a bit. But during an interview, when asked about kids coming next, Trey had claimed he would never father a child. And then his world had imploded with the death of his wife.

  So, I’d finally made the decision to contact him, desperate for him to relinquish custody to protect my daughter from his unstable world, and apparently he was a now changed man?

  Only a few days ago, I’d been positive, based on the promiscuous rock star I knew only from those very tabloids, that he would’ve signed the paperwork and been done with us. Once that was over with, I could then assign my best friend, Debbie, as Alivia’s legal guardian without my plan being contested.

  In hindsight, I probably had a better chance of him walking away from Alivia back then than I did now. My master plan could easily backfire, but I wouldn’t allow it. This was my daughter’s life. I was in it for the long run, through all the upcoming school projects and formals. Through the tears that would come from boy trouble. Through her becoming a woman and teaching her how to navigate the world with confidence and strong morals.

  Where would Trey be during those profound moments? He may have changed, but the part of his life that hadn’t changed terrified me. Living the life of a rock star with not a care in the world while traveling on a tour bus would always be his role, and that didn’t sit well with me.

  Anything could happen when it came to the custody of a child. With my luck, the judge would be a major Devil’s Lair fan, so displeased that I’d kept Alivia from Trey that he or she would grant him partial custody. And then what? While he toured for weeks, months on end, my daughter would be with him and away from me?

  Over my dead body.

  Alivia happily held my hand while skipping the entire way to the park, having no clue the man walking beside her could forever change her perspective on life. Whether in a negative way or a positive one would remain to be seen.

  Except for Alivia’s idle chatter, which thankfully did not include any questions for Trey
, not one word was spoken between us the entire three-block walk to the park. My silence was justified as my mind raced, bringing me close to a state of panic, but I had no idea what his thoughts were.

  The moment the jungle gym came into view, she pulled from my grasp and headed straight toward the few other children who were happily playing. The two women who sat on a bench adjacent to us stopped their conversation to stare at Trey. The black T-shirt he wore displayed most of the ink on his arms and, combined with the black jeans, black boots, black baseball cap, and black shades, every inch of his six-foot frame looked intimidating.

  When he followed me to the furthest bench, sitting his ass directly beside mine, the women resumed their conversation. Feeling his radiating body heat forced me to scooch a few inches to my left, to which he simply stretched his arm behind me and twisted his head to reveal a saucy smirk.

  At seeing it, something deep in the pit of my stomach pulsed. It was the same look he’d given me the night we met, that confident all-knowing expression that said he knew the effect he had on me.

  Well, this time that cockiness he was so good at dishing out served to fuel my fire, prompting me to get right to the point. “Look, Trey—”

  “She’s awesome—” he began, stopping my words until they registered. “Look, Trey, what?”

  I paused to carefully choose what I would say. I didn’t want to upset him, make him defensive and possibly feed any motive he may be entertaining. “I think we should schedule a meeting with your lawyer. I’ll bring mine as well, and—”

  “You got a lawyer?”

  “Well, yes…” Was he serious? “He drew up the contract and probably should’ve been with me the day after I presented you with it.” I wanted to admit that, like an idiot, I’d assumed this would be over without argument. “I think it’d be best that we all meet to discuss it.”