“What did you do?” Gus slid me another beer. The Mission was quiet tonight, no live shows on Monday nights.
“Fucked someone else.” I took a sip. “Lianne found a note the girl left me.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. She kicked me out.”
Gus walked around the bar and took a seat next to me. “I wondered. Faye just called. Lianne just picked up Zane and took him home.”
“Are you happy?” I started peeling the label off the beer bottle. “Do you ever feel too young to be a dad?”
“Um, yeah. To both.” Gus rested his head on his hand. “You’re just disconnected. You’ve been gone. Living your life. Assimilating back in has got to be hard.”
“Especially when I fucked another woman,” I muttered.
“Was it worth it?”
“Fuck no. I don’t even remember it.” I spun around in my chair. I couldn’t sit still. “There’s so much partying. Troughs of blow around. Whatever we want, really. It’s enticing. It helps pass some of the downtime.”
Gus nodded. “And then you’re back to real life.”
“Right?”
We sat silently for a few minutes. “Are you splitting up?”
My leg bounced, anchored by the rung of the barstool. “I hope not. Lianne’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Lianne wouldn’t let me move back in. While in purgatory, I spent time with Zane over at Gus and Faye’s house. Quality time. He was a marvel. My sweet, loving boy. With the ability to hear music all around him. From his little toddler babbles to banging his tiny fists on the floor, everything he did had innate rhythm and melody. I couldn’t wait to get him his first guitar.
I’d also made a herculean effort to go on a cleanse.
No drinking or drugs since the night of the fight.
Not just to prove it to Lianne, I had to prove it to myself.
I didn’t want to be another tribal statistic.
I could do this. Have my family. Have my band.
After much groveling, three weeks after she kicked me out, Lianne finally agreed to meet with me. I was waiting in a back booth when she walked through the door at Cyclops. I loved everything about her. The graceful way she floated toward me. Her flowing hair, which was back to my preferred strawberry-blonde color. She was so cool. Rocking an oversized PNB sweatshirt over black tights. Ballet flats. Of course.
I stood. “You’re a vision.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m here. What do you want?”
“You. Zane. Us.” I rested my hand at her back and guided her to the booth. “I want us to be a family.”
She scooted into the booth and tucked her long legs under her. “Carter, we haven’t been a family since you left on tour. You barely even called us. I’ve been a single mother, trying to raise an active little boy. It’s hard without any help.”
“Let’s get some help. I have big money coming in soon, we can hire a babysitter. Or a nanny when I’m on the road. We’ll figure it all out.” I took her hands in mine, my callused fingers adorned with chunky silver rings contrasting with her delicate, thin digits. “I want us to get married.”
She shook her head and removed her hands from mine. “Really? That’s my proposal?”
Um. Yes?
I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t have a ring or anything. “Lianne, I love you. I’m utter shit at this stuff.”
“You cheated on me. Probably more than once.” She looked so forlorn. “Why? Wasn’t I enough?”
Holy hell.
“Baby, I made a terrible mistake. I don’t want anyone but you. I’ve been off the drink and drugs since the night you kicked me out. You’re it for me.” I slipped out of the booth and got on my knees in front of her. My hands clasped in a prayer. “Please. Forgive me. Marry me. It will never happen again. We can go pick out a ring together.”
Lianne regarded me begging her for forgiveness. Her eyes softened. “You hurt me, Carter. It makes it hard to trust you now.”
“I know.”
“You’ll never cheat on me again?”
I solemnly swore, “Never.”
“If it happens again, we’re done.”
“I know.”
She cupped my scruffy face and gently guided me up. I sat beside her in the booth and our lips touched. Then the kiss intensified. “Okay,” she whispered.
Now that I had my second chance, nothing would make me screw it up.
CHAPTER 7
CARTER
Ten years later
Oh, I screwed it up.
Big time.
By the middle of the second big tour, our first as headliners, I was fully addicted to heroin. It all started when I went off the wagon and did some lines with our opening band in Memphis. The coke was laced with smack. For a man predisposed to addiction like me, it was all over after that night. A year in, and nothing mattered to me but the euphoria of being high. Not Lianne. Not Zane. Not Limelight. Nothing.
Oh, I went through the motions. I hid my habit well for a long time. Mainly because my preference was snorting, so there was little-to-no physical evidence of my drug abuse.
Unless you counted how skinny and jittery I’d become if I didn’t get my fix.
Irritable.
Reclusive.
Angry.
My erratic behavior and inability to stay faithful wrecked my relationship with Lianne. She finally left me for good when I couldn’t stay clean. I was home for a few months after touring. Lianne was the principal in Romeo and Juliet. While she was away at a matinee performance, I passed out for several hours when I was supposed to be watching six-year-old Zane. When she returned, he was screaming bloody murder. Pounding on my chest, trying to wake me up. To no avail. It traumatized him.
I’d destroyed what was already a fragile relationship with my son.
He didn’t trust me anymore.
Couldn’t trust me anymore.
Oh, I felt terrible. Remorseful even.
Just not enough to miss an appointment with my dealer under the Alaskan Way Viaduct the next day.
When I returned home from my bender a few days later, Lianne and Zane were gone. Moved out. She left a note. She’d quit the PNB and joined the Colorado Ballet. Although it wasn’t as prestigious a company, it had been in the works for months. She wanted a new life for herself and for Zane and thought moving closer to her parents and away from me was her best shot.
I didn’t blame her.
I was a terrible partner.
A terrible father.
An addict.
I didn’t deserve her. Or him.
Now twelve, the only time I saw Zane was when the band played in Denver. Once a year, at best. Lianne’s parents always facilitated the meeting, and I was never left alone with him. “Too dangerous,” Lianne said. Our time together was awkward. I didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t want to talk to me.
We were strangers.
Until we played guitar.
Then, we were kindred spirits.
We spoke to each other through music.
In the end, that was always what pulled me through.
CHAPTER 8
LIANNE
Three years later
Zane was out of control. I knew, at some point, my perfect, sweet boy would act out.
Last night, in a fit of anger, he demanded to move to Seattle to live with Carter. Apparently, his father had been sober with no slip-ups for a couple of years. Zane wanted a relationship. He wanted to play music. He wanted to get away from me for a while and to get to know his dad.
It broke my heart but I knew he was at an age where I had to be careful. If I said no, he’d resent me. If I said yes, I’d be perpetually worried. The two of them had recently bonded over Skype. For hours every week they’d compose music. Carter taught Zane everything he knew about guitar. They were building a relationship.
A bond I’d always hoped they would have.
Still, as his mother, I had to be cautious.<
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Loving and losing Carter had shattered me into a million pieces. His drug use. The constant cheating. The broken promises. I stayed far too long. Clinging to what we once were. What I hoped we’d be again if he got clean. It just never materialized. So I did what was best for Zane, and I left. Thinking that it would shock the love of my life into getting help.
It didn’t.
He finally got help when his Limelight bandmates famously staged an intervention after he OD’d for a second time in a month. They had enough and kicked him out of the band. Limelight went on hiatus for a year with one condition: if Carter stayed clean they’d let him back in. If he didn’t, he was out. There was no messing around. He’d have to submit to daily drug tests. No one trusted him anymore.
So, as it turned out, losing the band was Carter’s rock bottom.
Not losing his son. Or me.
The band.
Always the fucking band.
Don’t get me wrong, I was glad he had conquered some of his demons. Sobriety seemed to be very important to him, if his social media posts were any indication of his present state of mind. The thing is, for years my son needed his absentee father. I really wanted them to have a good relationship.
But I was scared.
If Carter hurt my son like he’d hurt me, I’d kill him.
And, I don’t mean figuratively.
I really wasn’t all that bitter anymore. Carter was overly generous in his financial support of the two of us. We had a beautiful home that was paid in full. Zane had everything he needed. Plus, Denver provided me with a fantastic life. The cost of living was lower than Seattle. The Denver Ballet treated me like royalty. My folks adored and doted on Zane. The four of us spent many happy times together.
It had taken years to get here. Intense therapy. Which led me to Nar-Anon. A game changer. It gave me the tools I needed to raise a son of an addict. When Zane started asking more pointed questions about Carter and why we left, I encouraged him to join Narateen. It helped him get over his anger at basically being abandoned by his famous father. And at me for moving us away.
I thought we were fairly well-adjusted. Which is probably why his request to live with his dad threw me for a loop.
Carter and I didn’t have much of a relationship anymore. It was all done through lawyers. When he visited Zane, it was arranged through my parents. I couldn’t see him. I was still too weak. All these years later and I knew if we were in the same room I’d still want him. How did I know this? Because every boyfriend I’d had since we’d moved to Colorado couldn’t cut it.
No one lived up to my broken man.
How sick was that?
In any case, if Zane was going to move up with Carter for a while I’d have to put on my big-girl panties. Lay down some rules. Expectations. Boundaries. When Zane retreated to his room for the night, I fired up his laptop and launched the Skype app.
Carter’s beaming face appeared on the screen, clearly expecting Zane. “Buddy… Um. Hi. Lianne, is that you?”
“Um. Yeah.” God, he looked good. Clear-eyed. Handsome. A few gray hairs in his long, curly dark hair. This was such a terrible idea.
“Wow.” Carter’s gleaming smile filled my computer. “I haven’t laid eyes on you in years. You’re still the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Stop. This isn’t a social call. Zane wants to come and stay with you for the summer. Is that something you want? Is that something you can handle?”
His smile faded away, a look of genuine shock passed over his face. “What?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t encourage this.”
“Lianne, I promise you. I haven’t. I’ve respected your wishes.” Carter peered at me. “I know I gave up any right to be in his life. We’re just Skyping. Playing music. He’s my son, and I love him. I don’t want to hurt him any more than I have already.”
I nodded. Satisfied. “Okay. I believe you.”
The relief on Carter’s face was palpable. “If he wants to come, that would be okay with me. We’re not touring like we used to anymore. I’m rattling around alone in my house.”
“Okay.” I had nothing else to say to him. Well, I had plenty to say to him, just nothing that was appropriate for me to say out loud. “I’ll be in touch with details.”
“Great.” Carter smiled at me. It was infectious.
I smiled back.
I couldn’t help it.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Bye, Carter.”
I clicked the screen off.
Slightly devastated.
The man still had my heart in the palm of his hand.
CHAPTER 9
CARTER
We sat across from each other in the living room. Zane and me. Awkwardly. He’d been at my house for a couple of days. We barely spoke. Just enough to get him some food. I didn’t know what to say to him now that he was here. Lianne instructed me to “let him be as normal as possible.”
Which meant my son flew coach from Denver to Seattle instead of in my private jet. Once he got here, I picked him up in my Bentley. With my security guard.
I couldn’t help who I was, after all.
Rich and famous was now normal for me.
Two days in and Zane couldn’t—wouldn’t—even look me in the eye.
I knew the drill. I’d been working the steps. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Yeah?” He stared at the floor.
“Should I say what I need to say?” It was up to me to break the ice. I was the adult here, though I didn’t feel like it. “I’ve been a real shitty dad.”
He looked up at me, stunned.
“I can admit it. I wasn’t prepared to be a father. Your mother and I were very young. These are not excuses, but you were born when I was only a couple years older than you are now.”
Zane squinted. Looked off into the distance. “And?”
“And what?”
He stood and moved to the giant picture window overlooking Lake Washington. “You were a young father, blah blah blah. That’s not why you were a bad father. How did you become an addict?”
Here we go.
I didn’t want to contradict anything Lianne told him. Her perception was infinitely more important than mine. “I’m not sure what your mom told you.”
“Nothing.” Zane pulled on his curls. “She’s not spoken of you much at all.”
Not surprising. But it hurt. Deeply. “Well, the basics are I grew up on the Puyallup Indian Reservation until I left at seventeen. My dad died of a heroin overdose when I was young. My mom died of cancer right after you were born. She was a tribal advocate. Addiction runs on both sides of my family. I always knew I was predisposed. For years, I was able to control it. Then I couldn’t. I nearly lost my life. The band. I did lose you and your mother.”
“Boo-fucking-hoo,” Zane growled.
I moved to stand beside him. “That’s fair enough.”
“I don’t remember you at all, Carter.” His eyes filled with tears. “Mom said that we were all happy when I was a baby, but I don’t remember any of it.”
“Come with me.” I motioned for him to follow me, and led him up the stairs to a spare bedroom where I kept a lot of memorabilia from the band.
“Whoa!” Zane turned in a circle, looking at the gold and platinum records, plaques, crap I didn’t even remember having. “It’s like a museum of Limelight.”
I was busy digging in a drawer until I found what I was looking for. “Here, look at this.”
Handing him several photographs, I waited to see his reaction.
“Wait, I remember her. What was her name?” He pointed at a picture of him with Gus’s daughter.
“Fiona. You were born a couple of months apart. You spent nearly every day with her when I was touring and your mom was dancing at PNB.” I showed him another shot. “This one is in the back of a club called RKCNDY. That’s you in the stroller. There’s your mom.”
“Whoa.” Zane traced himself with his finger.
“Zane, I wanted to be a good dad. I did. Your mother is the love of my life.” I tentatively clapped my hand on his shoulder. “I don’t want to blame it on a disease that I have. I take full responsibility for being a world-class asshole. I’d like to try to make it better, though.”
“I want that too.” Zane looked up at me.
My compassionate son.
My flesh and blood.
I’d do anything for him. To make sure he never suffered again.
“Wanna play some tunes?” I gestured to the stairs. “Practice room’s downstairs.”
“I’d like that.” Zane bounded down the stairs.
We spent the rest of the summer jamming. Talking. Chilling out. Spending time with my boy was like medicine I didn’t know I needed. His energy. His compassion. He got it all from Lianne. The only thing I recognized of myself in him was his musical talent. Which blew me out of the water.
When the time approached for him to go back to Colorado, I dreaded it with every fiber of my being. I wanted him with me. So I could know him better. So I could become important to him again. It never occurred to me to ask, I knew Lianne would say no.
Which is why I was shocked when Zane approached me with his own plan.
A plan that would devastate Lianne.
But one that would save me.
CHAPTER 10
LIANNE
“So let me get this straight, you’ve gone from zero to fifty. Zane told me you’ve taken in one of his friends.” I peered through the screen at Carter, who looked gorgeous just in a T-shirt and old shorts. A baseball cap worn backward over his still-long curls.
Carter laughed. “Not quite. The boy’s name is Tyson. He doesn’t actually live here, although he’s over most days. He asked if he could store his guitar in the practice room. I don’t think his home life situation is great. He’s a good kid. Hard worker. Anyway, the bottom line is, he and Zane hit it off. I was beginning to worry that our son wouldn’t make any friends.”
RESTLESS: A Less Than Zero Rockstar Romance Prequel: Book 0.5 - Carter & Lianne Page 3