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Trey

Page 21

by Madden, A. M.


  Giving them space, I reasoned Camilla was better at calming Alivia down as I tried to do the same for everyone’s sake.

  We were home five minutes before Jack called. “I knew I’d fuck it up,” I said as a greeting.

  “Stop. You didn’t fuck anything up.”

  “Yes, I did! I ignored this very scenario that I knew would eventually happen.”

  “You were careful, but this is our reality, Trey. We’ve all been through it, most of us thrown in with no life jacket and no mercy. Unfortunately, it won’t go away. Learning to deal with it is part of the journey.”

  “At what cost?” I asked quietly. “I signed up for this, but by forcing myself into their lives I gave them no choice. They had no idea how bad it could get and had no way to prepare for it.” Silence on his end meant he agreed. “It’s my job to protect them, and I already failed and can’t promise I’ll be able to in the future.”

  “It’ll die down.”

  “For how long?” I argued. “You know they never give up. They may move on for a bit, to the next victim they need to exploit, but they always come back. With every major event in our lives, they’re always right there buzzing around us like a fucking mosquito looking for blood.”

  Memories of being holed up at dive hotels in the middle of nowhere slammed into my thoughts. Right after I’d left rehab to try to escape my pain, they’d searched for me like a pig scrounging for a truffle. Days upon days I’d remained in isolation until I couldn’t stand the sight of the room that was my prison. Only to move to another random place—California, Texas, Montana, freakin’ Iowa—anywhere I could escape to without drawing attention by boarding a flight or showing identification. All while trying to stay sober.

  Fucking hell.

  And even though I was alone, determined to stay hidden, and pissed at the world… still, it wasn’t easy. How could I protect them from this bullshit? They were merely innocent bystanders to my fucked-up existence.

  And that damn little voice in the back of my mind refused to stop chanting, What did you expect?

  “I should’ve known better.”

  “Krista is on this. She’s working with the authorities to—”

  “To what? Keep them away? They’ll disperse for a bit, and now that they know we’re here, they’ll come back again and again. And then what? I’ll move, like I have in the past, and force them to move with me?” I knew I was rambling, but nothing I said was untrue. “Maybe Camilla should take her away.”

  “Away where?” Jack asked.

  “Her family is in Puerto Rico. Maybe they need to go there to escape what will undoubtedly happen if they stay. At least my daughter could have a life.”

  “My kids have a life,” he countered.

  “Because they’re lucky to be your kids. My kid is cursed because she’s mine.”

  A gasp stole my attention, and I didn’t need to turn to know where it had come from. Regardless, I slowly twisted to meet her gaze. “I’ll call you back,” I said to Jack while keeping my eyes locked on her.

  She remained stone-still and silent, as did I.

  An eternity passed before she finally said, “You want us to go?”

  “No,” I was quick to say. “It might be the right thing to do until this dies down.”

  “But you yourself said it will never die down,” she responded barely above a whisper. “I can’t go to my family,” she added, shaking her head adamantly.

  “Then maybe we should go somewhere else.”

  “We?” she challenged. “You plan to run and hide with us?”

  Avoiding her question, I elaborated by saying, “I’ll set you up, come visit as much—”

  “Stop, Trey. She finally has you, and you expect her to go back to not having you?” Her expression went on to say all the things she didn’t.

  I knew we were moving too fast.

  I knew I should’ve protected her from you.

  I knew this would happen.

  “It would just be for a while,” I pathetically said.

  “Really?” she barked. “Until the next thing sparks their interest, and then we move again?” Something clicked inside her, making her pace my apartment. “This is on me. I should’ve insisted we take it slower. I can’t be here and think rationally while your reality is literally pounding on the door,” she said, pointing out the window. The more she wore a path through my floor, the more she mumbled to herself. “They can’t stay out there all night. Is there a back door out of here? I’ll have Alec take us to Debbie’s. I’d rather stay there while I figure things out.”

  Not we… I.

  She instantly removed me from the equation.

  “Camilla—” Her hand flew up to stop me. And at that moment I knew it didn’t matter what plan she would concoct to protect our daughter—she’d most definitely do it alone.

  Camilla’s idea to escape in the middle of the night meant having our doorman smuggle them out through an emergency exit, where Oscar, Jack’s main security guard, waited in an ordinary sedan to drive them to Debbie and Carson’s place.

  Once they arrived and settled Alivia back to bed, after she’d cried hysterically for me, Oscar stayed out front to be sure they hadn’t been followed. It didn’t matter, though… because when Carson went out to survey the damage the next morning by driving by their apartment, sure enough, a shady-looking dude was sitting in a car across the street, watching Camilla’s door like a hawk.

  I forced Camilla to talk to me often, calling her repeatedly to the point of insanity. There was no detection of fear when we spoke, more so that determination I had witnessed back when she’d first appeared in my life. I didn’t doubt I’d still be part of their lives, but I was absolutely sure it would be a fraction of the time that I needed it to be.

  Jack and Leila were relentless in communicating with me. They both believed I should give Camilla the space she needed to work things out on her own, for the time being, while keeping her protected. As we all knew from experience, this would die down. How long it took for another bout of stalking to commence was anyone’s guess.

  The nature of the beast now had both Camilla and Alivia on their radar. That meant a lifetime of intrusions, whether they liked it or not.

  My heart ached for my daughter. It’d been almost ten hours, and I missed her more than I ever knew possible. I also missed Camilla. I couldn’t help but fear that intense, amazing connection we’d recently experienced would forever be altered, if not gone altogether.

  As predicted, the entertainment news channels exploded with the story that Trey Taylor had a daughter. They revealed details of Camilla’s life, of Alivia’s life. They found photos that weren’t grainy, completely exposing their faces for the masses to memorize.

  Forever gone was their anonymity.

  The reality had the familiar sense of suffocation building. If I didn’t hold it together, all the progress I’d made in therapy would come dangerously close to imploding. But there was nothing I could do to stop the belief that this disastrous train was about to careen off the track. It may have been a dramatic conclusion, but it was true.

  And still that little voice kept barking, What did you expect?

  Twenty-four hours later, I felt like a caged animal. The die-hard paparazzi were still dotting the sidewalk, waiting me out. I hadn’t spoken to Camilla in an hour, and I frantically dialed her number. She was supposed to have Alivia FaceTime me, and I hated that it hadn’t happened yet.

  “Hi.”

  “How is she?”

  “Okay. She fell asleep watching TV.”

  I knew it hit her hard when she realized not only couldn’t she see me, but she couldn’t go to camp, she couldn’t play in the park, nor could she even go out for the ice cream she loved. It wouldn’t be forever, but to a six-year-old, an open-ended deadline may as well have been.

  Another call coming in interrupted us. Seeing Lori’s name on the screen had me ignoring it. I appreciated everyone’s concern, but not having the desire to
speak to them during an actual crisis couldn’t be held against me. I wasn’t that type of person and never would be. I needed to marinate in my trauma a bit.

  But when the alert sounded that I had a new voicemail, curiosity on what she’d said got the best of me. “Babe, call me back when she’s awake.” Using that term of endearment wasn’t accidental. It was just another pathetic attempt to keep Camilla connected to me.

  “Okay,” she said with no emotion whatsoever before the line went dead.

  I listened to a benign message unlike what I expected. “Call me, Trey. I have an idea.” And that was what had me punching at her contact icon. “Hi,” she said.

  “Hey.”

  “First off, Cannon and I hate that this is happening to you.”

  “Thanks,” I responded half-heartedly. It had nothing to do with the fact she was one of my exes sympathizing for me along with her current boyfriend. Lori and I had been through quite a bit over the years.

  She’d loved me. I hadn’t been ready to love. I’d pushed her away.

  It was that simple.

  Regardless, I’d always love that feisty redhead in my own way. She’d had to endure some pretty nasty shit from me, and she’d taken it like a champ, never cowering away. Instead, she’d forced her friendship on me until I’d eventually caved and accepted it… like now.

  “Okay, what you need to do is hold a press conference. Tell them everything. Eliminate the mystery. It’s just what Cannon did when news got out he was having an affair with his agent before his tour.” Her being the agent. “Once they got the truth right from his mouth, he stole the need for them to search it out on their own. Cut the head off the snake.”

  It sounded so fucking simple… too simple. “That won’t have them backing off.”

  “No, they’ll still do their thing, but only until the next scandal hits. You know that.”

  “And when that next scandal dies and they’re back to me?”

  “You’re prepared now, and you’ll protect them.” Then Cannon mumbled something that I didn’t hear, just before she repeated it for me. “Have your time on camera, have Camilla and Alivia all prepared to escape before they are able to go to commercial. Then head straight for Jack and Leila’s beach house and relax for a few weeks.” She allowed my reflective silence for longer than was comfortable. Anyone else would’ve left me to it, hung up to give me the time I needed to process the idea.

  But not Lori. Lori remained on the phone, just in case I had something to say, even after fifteen minutes had passed while my brain still spun with optimism over her idea.

  Chapter 32

  Camilla

  He told me to trust him… and I decided I would.

  It was only a matter of time before they would find us at Debbie and Carson’s house. So, for the second time in two days, Alivia and I sneaked out of the house in the middle of the night to be driven to yet another location. The difference: this time Debbie was with us on Trey’s insistence, as were Leila and Siarra. She’d left Jack home with their boys to help my daughter and me slip under the radar… part of Trey’s plan.

  We arrived at her beach house before the sun came up and carried a sleepy Alivia and Siarra inside. Meanwhile, Oscar unloaded our luggage and a large box filled with things from Alivia’s new room, things that Trey thought she would like to have.

  Unable to sleep, the ladies and I settled in the den with mugs of steaming coffee and an untouched plate of freshly baked muffins. Leila’s chef and housekeeper were on hand for us, giving her the ability to console and support me. After the drive down, she and Debbie had immediately bonded, and the two made sure to keep me off the ledge that I had been precariously balancing on since this nightmare began.

  I hadn’t heard a word from Trey, and my subconscious reminded me to trust him.

  When the girls woke a few hours later, Leila busied them with breakfast. Alivia seemed better and having Siarra with her made for a good distraction. I also believed being at the beach house settled her because of the connection to Trey.

  The entire time we were at Debbie’s she wanted to know why her daddy couldn’t be there with us. Even during those video calls with him, her brain just couldn’t comprehend why he needed to be in New York when no one was outside her aunt Debbie’s house.

  “They’re gone, Mommy,” she had said. “We’re safe now.”

  Even earlier, when I slipped her into the bed I had slept in last time we were there, she lifted her head and sleepily asked, “Is Daddy here yet?”

  I prayed we found a way around this. Even if this blew over in a few weeks, being apart from him for even that amount of time would truly upset her. Hell, who was I kidding? It upset me. This whole thing truly sucked. I hated that he felt responsible and that I didn’t really help in that matter. I’d fallen in love with that man. I could’ve denied it all I wanted, but it would still be true. And even if he didn’t feel the same, I knew he cared about me.

  “What has smoke billowing out of your ears right now?” When I blinked in confusion at Debbie, she pointed a finger my way. “You’re obviously thinking too hard.”

  “I’ve been such a bitch.”

  “Today or in general?” she asked, as serious as a heart attack.

  “Hilarious… but I guess both.” Instead of arguing otherwise, she smiled smugly. “What?”

  “You’re not gonna like it.” The instant grimace on my face proved her right. “This isn’t the end of the world.”

  “I know,” I agreed, and in the process caused her eyes to bulge. “I do. It sucks, and I am still concerned about how my daughter will fare after all this, but it could be a lot worse.” Like what Trey had endured already in his thirty-three years. Or even Jack and Leila after hearing all the crap they’d been through when starting out.

  “I’m proud of you, coming to that conclusion on your own.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Hey,” Leila said, hovering in the doorway of the den. “The girls want to go swimming. Is that okay?”

  “Sure.” I bolted up off the couch. “I’ll get her changed and join them.”

  “No need.” She came over to the laptop and hit the volume button. “Just stay put. I’ll take them in.”

  Her smile and relaxed attitude made me feel a touch better. She, of all people, knew what I was going through. She’d survived it and continued to. I needed to take a page out of Leila Lair’s playbook.

  “She’s fantastic,” Debbie said once Leila left the room.

  “She is. So genuine, sweet as sugar, and—”

  “I’m still your best friend, chickie,” she interrupted. Before I could roll my eyes or tell her to shut it, Trey’s face appeared on the laptop. “What now?”

  I leaned closer just as the pretty brunette host of some daytime entertainment show said, “Where are all the Trey Taylor fans? You’ll want to see this!” With that, a live clip began, showing Trey sitting casually in a chair facing a perky blonde in what looked like a hotel room.

  “Oh my God,” Debbie said, vocalizing what I couldn’t manage to.

  He looked sexy as hell, one long leg bent so his ankle rested on a knee, his hair perfectly messy, the tattoos on his arms on full display in a dark-gray T-shirt. The black jeans and black boots were the same, but otherwise he looked a touch less badass than he normally did.

  “I’m Kelly Wilson with a special guest today.” She twisted away from the camera. “Hello, Trey.” The shot focused on the host while she crossed a leg, causing her short skirt to inch a bit higher. “I’m thrilled you chose our network to discuss what hit the headlines two days ago.” With a flick of her wrist, she sent half of her golden locks off one shoulder before giving him a flirty smile.

  “Thanks for giving me the opportunity,” he responded robotically. The bored expression on his face clearly said he wanted no part of this, whatever this was about to be.

  “Our pleasure. I’m sure seeing those personal pictures released was a bit disturbing,” she added with th
e same fake smile, as though she weren’t part of the problem.

  “It was.” His frozen scowl made it perfectly clear this wasn’t a pleasant experience. “I don’t care what they say about me, but that’s my kid. And that’s where it stops.” Debbie and I sucked in a huge breath at the exact same time. He’d just told the world what we’d tried to hide.

  “That’s understandable. So then, she is your daughter?”

  “I’d think this circus would’ve made it obvious.”

  Ignoring his snark, she briefly glanced down at the notepad perched on her lap. “Can I ask how you managed to keep her from the public eye for so long?”

  A chill ran down my spine. This was my kid they were discussing. And to my surprise, Trey explained it all… details that also involved me. From the night we met to the day we told Alivia the truth. He only referred to her as “his daughter,” and to me as “her mother.” Every so often the woman interrupted, asking questions that more times than not hurt me to hear.

  “Why did she keep your daughter from you?”

  “Do you resent her for doing so?”

  The hardest question to sit through as anxiety stole the breath from my lungs was, “Do you love her?”

  “Of course, I do. She’s my kid.”

  “I wasn’t referring to your daughter.” She lifted her pointy nose in the air and practically tsked afterward. When he blankly stared, blondie asked, “The mom?” A smug smile met his deer-in-headlights expression.

  “I care about her very much. She raised our daughter to be a smart, funny, amazingly personable young girl, and so much more. I owe her a lot and will always be grateful. Our daughter bonded us for life.”

  “But whether you love her or not will define that bond,” the pushy woman insisted.

  He remained silent, and then his expression altered to one that was less guarded. “I came on here to end the mystery that is Trey Taylor. You all know everything that I’ve been through, and the media has been relentless in airing every bit of my dirty laundry. And that’s fine. I’m a rock star… one who f—up often.” He rolled his eyes, and Debbie chuckled at the word the station had beeped out. “Sorry. As I was saying, being tracked like an animal comes with the territory. But I won’t have the same thing happen to my daughter, or to my…”

 

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