by Keren Hughes
>I’m coming home. Tell him I’ll be there. Do not let him come here, Jude. I mean it.
>You know I can’t stop him when he sets his mind to something, Brent. None of us can.
>So, what does he intend to do? Drag me home by my ear? I’m not a goddamn child that he can order around.
>He can when he’s your goddamn manager. Hell hath no fury like a manager scorned.
>I thought that was a woman? I type out, trying to lighten the mood.
I scrub a hand over my face before hastily packing my case. Shit! What am I going to do about getting home? I guess I could always use my credit card to buy a plane ticket now that my cover is about to be blown to smithereens anyway.
How the hell am I supposed to say goodbye to Caleigh? I don’t have the words. I never got to tell her who I was, and now I have to explain the fact that I’m leaving without being able to tell her why.
How on earth did I let myself get caught up with a woman? It should never have happened. I was never meant to stay. But someone saw fit to put Caleigh in my path and I fell head over heels, lost myself in time and space, only finding myself when I was with her. My true self, that is. Whoever I was before was gone, and I discovered the real me in the arms of Caleigh Rae Flynn, the only woman who has ever held my heart.
They say it’s better to have loved and lost, and who knows, maybe they’re right, because I wouldn’t swap the time I’ve shared with Caleigh for anything in the world. But to lose her? It’s going to mean complete and utter devastation. It will literally annihilate my heart to tell her goodbye.
The thought flits through my mind that maybe I should just go without saying goodbye. But I know I could never do that, not to her and not to myself. I want to steal one last kiss from her before leaving. A kiss that will have to sustain me a lifetime without her.
I leave my case at the door to my room. If I take it with me to see Caleigh, she might see it and bolt, not giving me a chance to explain.
Grabbing my phone, I pull up flights. Nothing? How can there be nothing? I check other sites, in search of anything, even economy class would do. I don’t care as long as it’s a seat on a plane. But I can’t find anything. What the hell? Is this like the busiest day of the year to travel or something?
I look up flights for tomorrow. There are only a few available, so I grab the first one I can. What harm can one more day do?
Deciding to go and see Caleigh anyway, I close the door behind me and head downstairs.
“Good morning, Rhett. I trust you slept well?” Audrey asks in her ever-chipper tone.
“I did, thank you. I wanted to let you know that I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”
“So soon? I do hope you’ll come back again sometime.”
“Yeah, something came up at home, but I’ll be back, I’m certain of it.”
I’ve never been as uncertain of anything, but I can’t tell her that.
“See you later, Audrey. Have a good day.”
“You too, Rhett. If it’s your last one, I hope you’re making it count.”
“Oh, Audrey, out of curiosity, is there a reason you can think of why there wouldn’t be any flights today?”
“It’ll be because of the air show, dear. They close down our airport to any inbound or outbound flights. It’s an annual thing.”
Well, that would do it.
“Thanks, Audrey. See you later.”
As I walk out into the morning sun, I close my eyes and inhale deeply. What can I do with Caleigh to make our last day count? If the air show is a big draw for people in town, then maybe I can get her all to myself.
>Morning gorgeous. Fancy doing something today?
I see three dots on the screen, and it brings a smile to my face. At least she’s still talking to me until tonight.
>I’m doing the stocktake, remember? But I’m free as a bird afterwards.
>Is Damien in the pub?
>Yeah, why?
>Because I can pretend that I’m coming to see him.
>Now?
>Yes ma’am. I’m already on my way.
I smile to myself as I pocket my phone and decide to take the river path. I know it takes longer to get to The Lock, but it gives me a chance to take in the sights of this place one last time.
Taking my phone out, I snap a few pictures. A pink-haired goddess looks at me from the wallpaper on my phone and I can’t contain my grin. My heart races like it’s about to burst out of my chest. I take advantage of feeling it while I can, because twenty-four hours from now, it will never beat again.
As I walk down the road to The Lock, I see a rental car parked outside. At least that means I’m not too early for the pub to even be open. I hadn’t thought about that when I said I’d drop by.
“No, he’s not been here and trust me, it’s a small town, so I’d know it if he was,” Damien says to someone as I walk through the door.
I open the inner double door and come face to face with my worst nightmare. I spin around on my heel but it’s too late.
“There he is.” Gordon’s voice pulls me down to earth with a bang.
Fuck fuckity fuck fuck!! FUCK!!
Turning back around, I look between Damien and Gordon.
Damien’s mouth is hanging open and I swear, in any other circumstances, it would be funny.
“Brent, good to see you,” my manager says with a shit-eating grin. “What’s up, son? Cat got your tongue?”
“You’ve got the wrong guy, surely? This is Rhett. Rhett Butler,” Damien flounders.
“Hello, Gordon,” I finally respond. My feet feel glued to the floor. Or maybe it’s the cement blocks I have in my shoes.
“So glad I found you, Brent. You’ve been gone for so long.”
“What do you want me to say, Gordon?”
“Nothing, son. Don’t say a thing. Just come and get in the car and we’ll be on our way. Where’s all your stuff? We’ll grab it on the way to the airport.”
“How did you even get here? The airport is closed for the annual air show.”
“Who says I flew commercial? I used the private jet, touched down in a place called Brookhaven a couple of hours ago.”
Damien silently watches the exchange, his eyes flitting between the two of us.
“How did you know where to find me?”
“Oh, you can thank the girl at the airport back home for that. My guess is that you thought you could fly under the radar once you got here, but you shouldn’t have paid with your card for your ticket. That was your second mistake—the first being you leaving in the first place.”
“Why come all this way, Gordon? What did you think was going to happen? That I’d just up and leave with you like a good little boy?”
“Son, you left us in the lurch. You left the guys without a lead singer until Asher stepped into the breach. Did you really think that I’d allow you to ditch us for some peace and quiet in Nowheresville? Just how long did you think I’d let that go on for, son?”
“Did you ever think that maybe I needed this peace and quiet?”
“Son, all the boys need a break, but you don’t see them fucking leaving mid-goddamn-tour, do you?”
“Fuck off, Gordon. I don’t have to answer to you,” I seethe.
“Oh yes you do, son. You all answer to me.”
“Stop. Calling. Me. Fucking. Son.” I enunciate each word clearly.
“What the hell is going on up here?”
My head whips around hard enough to give me whiplash at the sound of her voice.
“Seems your boyfriend isn’t who he claimed to be,” Damien finally speaks.
“First of all, how the hell do you know about us? And second of all, what on earth are you wittering on about?”
“Oh, I’ve seen you two skulking around together. Was quite the little show at American Honey, though. Some seriously heavy-petting, and in broad daylight in a public space too. And what I mean, darlin’, is that your little boyfriend Rhett here,” he says, air-quoting my name for
good measure, “is really Brent fucking Ryder. The one and only lead singer of Whiskey Lullaby, you know, the band Angelo used to like.”
Caleigh flushes at his knowledge of us, then confusion flits through her gaze, before finally settling on hurt when he mentions Angelo’s name in the same breath, as if to hurt her. I don’t know whether he truly meant to be spiteful, but I want to punch the son of a bitch for hurting her.
“Don’t be stupid. Don’t you think I’d know if Rhett was actually Brent?” she asks finally.
“Cut his hair a little, give him a shave and dye his hair dirty blond and he’s Brent Ryder alright. But if you don’t believe me, ask Gordon here. He is the band’s manager, after all.”
Her eyes dart from Damien, to me, to Gordon.
The shit-eating grin he’s been wearing while hearing this little exchange doesn’t falter as he turns to her.
“Hi, darlin’. You’d do well to listen to your friend here. This guy right here,” he says, pointing at me, “he really is Brent Lachlan Ryder, my front man. Guitarist and lead vocals.”
“Rhett …” She trails off, the pain evident in her voice. “P-please t-tell me he’s w-wrong.” Her eyes are full of unshed tears.
I’ve never hated myself more than I do right now. I did this to her.
“Caleigh, I can explain.” I start towards her, but she takes a step backwards. “Caleigh, please.”
“Y-you c-can’t be him. This is all a joke, r-right? A wind-up. I-It h-has to be.”
“Sweetheart, please.” I close the gap between us in large strides.
She backs up until her back is against the wall. She’s like a spooked horse, ready to bolt.
“D-don’t. Don’t sweetheart me. You’re a liar. A crook. A phoney.”
“Baby, I’m still me. I swear. Everything you know about me is true.”
I brace my arms on the wall on either side of her head, caging her between them so she can’t bolt before I explain.
“Liar,” she spits. “And to think I was going to ask if you wanted to meet Hardin properly, to introduce you to him as my boyfriend.”
Her anger is palpable as it rolls off her in waves.
“Baby—”
“Don’t you fucking baby me. Go fuck yourself, Rhett. Brent. Whoever the fuck you are.”
“I’m still me, Caleigh. The only lie I told you was my name. I swear to god, I have not told you another lie, ever.”
“Oh, and I’m supposed to just believe you, forgive you, just like that, huh?”
“You’ll have to figure this out some other time, darlin’, because Brent is due on a plane home with me,” Gordon says from somewhere behind me.
“Go fuck yourself, Gordon,” I spit at him over my shoulder before looking back to the woman I love. “Caleigh, please, just hear me out.”
“No can do, sunshine, we’ll miss our flight.”
“I said fuck off, Gordon. It’s a private jet; you can leave whenever the fuck you please. In fact, why don’t you just do that. Go get on your fucking plane and get the hell out of here.”
“Unless you want me to sue your ass for every penny you have, son, then you’ll be leaving here with me.”
“I’d rather be penniless than be without”—my eyes bore into Caleigh’s as I choose my next words carefully—“the woman I love.”
“Love?” she asks, her voice at least two octaves higher than normal.
“Yes, Caleigh, love. I love you. I should have told you sooner. I should have said it every minute, of every hour, of every day since we got on that plane.”
“You lied to me from the moment we met. How is that love?”
“Oh, sweetheart, the boy here doesn’t love you. He’s just trying to sweet talk you. He says it to every piece of skirt he’s ever fucked. And let me tell you, the amount of—”
“Gordon.” I cut him off. “Don’t listen to that son of a bitch, Caleigh. I’m begging you to hear me out about why I lied. I had to. Had to. I didn’t know you then. I didn’t want anyone finding out where I was. I knew this fucker would come after me if I told a soul.”
“Okay, so say I buy that. Why keep lying to me, Brent?”
Her anger rises and I watch her chest as she takes ragged breaths. I deserve it. I deserve her anger for lying for this long. For not telling her who I was after the first time we slept together. I promised myself I would tell her, and I lied. I even lied to myself. How fucked up am I?
“I tried and failed so many times, Caleigh. Please, please believe me. I know I should have told you so much sooner. All I can say is that I’m sorry.”
“When did you think you should tell me, Brent? After we first slept together? After a day, a week? After the first time I let you make love to me … without a condom.” She whispers those last three words.
Her words are like red hot daggers being thrust into my heart.
Laughter shakes me out of my pain for a moment.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” I seethe at my asshole of a manager.
“The fact that you fucked her without protection, son. Have I taught you nothing? No glove, no love, else you catch some nasty disease and give it to the next woman in the next town, and the next and the next, until it’s just one giant cesspool of sexually transmitted disease. If you’re going to fuck a whore, don’t do it bareback, you fucking rookie.”
“What the fuck did you just say?”
I spin away from Caleigh and stalk around to the other side of the bar. I’ve heard enough out of that nasty mouth. It’s time someone taught the asshole a lesson.
“I said, you fuck a whore—”
The resounding crack that his jaw makes soothes me like a balm I didn’t know I needed. Jesus, if only I’d hit the dickhead sooner.
“Don’t you dare call Caleigh a whore. You ever do that again and you’ll need somebody to pull me the fuck off you before I beat your corpse back down to hell.”
Fucking Gordon Boothe. Who the hell does he think he is, walking in here and calling Caleigh that? He’s always been a good man, or so I thought. But when I take some time out for the sake of my peace of mind, he turns up and shows his true colours.
I turn back to Caleigh, but she’s nowhere to be seen. I run around the other side of the bar and see the back door slamming shut behind her.
“Don’t do it, man. Be smart. She doesn’t fucking want you, and she never will.”
“The fuck do you know, Damien? You’re only jealous because I’ve been seeing her.”
I turn around and he looks right at me.
“You be careful what you say, dude. I’ve got a lot of respect for Caleigh.”
“Yeah, so much respect you just drop her late husband’s name into conversation like it won’t upset her.”
“She’ll get over that. And I’ll be here to pick up the pieces after you fly back to where you belong.”
“You think she’d touch you? Please, don’t make me laugh.”
“You never know, dude. She’s hurting, and I could be the one to help ease her pain. I swear, when I feel that tight little pussy for the first time … oh will it be like manna from heaven. It’ll taste all the sweeter knowing you will know I’m doing it and you’ll be hurting so bad—”
“I swear to god, asshole, if you lay one finger on her—”
“Oh yeah, what you gonna do about it?”
“Watch your mouth or you’ll end up with a dose of what I just treated Gordon to.”
“Get your sorry ass in the rental car outside and leave town, dude. Just get the hell out of dodge, because Caleigh doesn’t need you, your money or your baggage.”
“Fuck you, Damien,” I reply as I rush off out of the front door.
It takes longer to get to Caleigh’s house from the back door, so I have time to catch her … I hope.
I whisper a prayer to whoever’s listening as I break into a run. Please, let her hear me out. I know I don’t deserve it, but I need her to hear me. To listen, really listen, and hear the truth in my word
s.
Chapter Thirteen
Caleigh
The loud knock scares the hell out of me, making me jump as I sit with my back to the front door. I’m not in the mood to see anyone, so I sit quietly in the hopes they’ll just go away.
“Caleigh, please. Please let me explain,” Rhett—or is it Brent—calls.
I remain quiet and shrink myself into a ball so he can’t see my shadow through the door.
“Caleigh, I know you’re in there.”
My chest is still heaving from my sobs. I can’t bring myself to face him. Not like this. He needs to see me without tears rolling down my face. I need to show him I’m strong and his betrayal doesn’t matter. But then again, I’d rather not see him at all.
“Caleigh, baby, please,” he begs.
I feel myself bristle as he has the audacity to call me baby. He’s a fool if he thinks he can sweet talk his way out of this.
“I know you’re in there, Caleigh.”
God, this guy, he doesn’t give up, does he? Can he not just take the hint?
There’s silence for a few moments, so I’m hoping he’s just left.
“Caleigh, please,” he shouts as I hear him banging on the back door.
The sound of the key in the lock makes me jump. As if he’d use my spare key. I can’t believe the audacity of the man letting himself into my house after I’ve told him to get lost.
“Caleigh,” he calls as he walks through the kitchen to the hallway and spots me sitting on the floor.
“Please, just hear me out,” he says quietly, holding his hands up in a placating gesture.
“And why the hell should I do that?” I ask, in as strong a tone as I can muster. I stand with my back to the door, take a deep breath and blink back unshed tears. “Why should I listen to you when all you do is lie?”