by Ward, Susan
* * *
Night. I hear voices from my parents’ bedroom. I shoot up in bed. After four days Alan’s back. They’re talking, not yelling. That has to be a good sign.
I wait and listen.
Maybe this horrible nightmare is finally over.
I turn when I hear my door open. Chrissie sinks down on the bed close to me. “Kaley, you need to pack. You’re leaving in the morning.”
Dread shoots through my veins.
What does leaving mean?
I find my voice for the first time in days.
“No, Mom, I don’t want to leave you.”
She surrounds me with her arms. I hear her sniff. She was crying before she came in here. Her hands move gently on my back. “Everything is going to be OK, Kaley. I love you. Your dad loves you. But right now you need to do what I say. Pack. Alan is leaving in the morning with you, Krystal and the twins.”
“Leaving? What does that mean?”
“Your dad has to leave tomorrow. He’s on tour for four months. He can’t cancel so he’s taking you with him.”
I pull back, anxiously searching her face. “You’re going with us, too, right?”
“No, baby girl. I’m staying here with Khloe. It’s the best thing all around for all of us.”
Best thing all around?
How could that be good for any of us?
“I’m so afraid, Mom. Don’t make me leave you.”
She smiles, a calm, almost peaceful thing, almost too weird to see. “You’re going, Kaley.”
She starts to rise and I stop her with my hands.
“I’m not leaving this house unless you explain to me what’s happening. Alan didn’t know we were his. I was there. I saw his face. How could you do this, Mom? And he doesn’t want us. He’s made that really clear. How could you make us leave with him? And how can you say everything is going to be OK? I don’t believe you. Don’t lie to me again. Not now.”
Her hands close on my face so quickly I don’t see them move, only feel the pain of too tightly held cheeks in shaking fingers.
“I have loved your father since I was eighteen. With all my heart, Kaley.” She takes several rapid breaths before her brilliant blue doe eyes lock on me. “Alan is the only man I’ve ever loved. But I love you more. I love you kids more. So how could I do this? I’m your mother and I love you more. How could I tell you to pack and go? I’m your mother. How can I tell you everything is going to be OK? I’m your mother. I love Alan with all my heart but, baby girl, I’m your mother and I love you more. Pack. You’re leaving in the morning.”
Then she walks from my bedroom, and there is nothing but the four walls and me again.
* * *
I start shoving things into a bag even though I tell myself I’m not going on tour alone with Alan. I won’t survive that. I can just run away. Go to Bobby. He’s always wanted to get out of the ’Sades. Maybe he doesn’t hate me. Maybe he’s as worried about me as I am about him. Maybe he’ll leave with me if I can just figure out a way to see him.
I’m sitting in the center of my room on the floor beside my duffel when my door opens.
My heart accelerates and the shaking returns.
Alan settles on the small sofa, facing me. “Are you doing all right, Kaley?”
The lump in my throat makes speech impossible.
I nod.
“Has Chrissie explained what’s happening?”
I nod, though she didn’t really explain anything.
“We’re leaving early in the morning,” he says quietly. “We’re spending five days at my home outside London. I think we need time to regroup. Then we are leaving the UK for four months on the road. Your sisters and brothers depend on you. More than you realize. Try to remember that, sweetheart. It matters to them how well you are.”
It matters to them…
Message received, Alan.
He still hasn’t admitted he’s my father. Or Krystal’s. Or Eric’s. Or Ethan’s. He hasn’t spoken a word about any of that. Not to me. I wonder if he has to them. I only heard him call us his children when he yelled at Chrissie in the backyard.
I lift my face.
I meet his gaze directly.
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”
His cheek twitches, but his expression doesn’t change.
“You are my responsibility legally and morally. I can’t leave without you and I can’t stay. I expect you to do as I ask for the next four months. And when you get back to LA, you have my word, I won’t interfere in your life. Not in any way. You can do what you want after we get back, Kaley. But tomorrow you are leaving California with me.”
“I don’t want to go. Let me stay here with Mom. You’re ruining my life.”
Impassive.
“No, I am not ruining your life, sweetheart. I’m making sure you still have one when you get back to LA.”
* * *
I hear a sound. A tap on my glass sliding door. I roll over in bed and check the clock. 3:30 a.m. Another tap. Oh God, please…
I rush from my bed and pull back the curtain. Bobby is standing on the patio. My shaking hands fumble with the latch and finally get it open.
I hurry toward him and some marginal parameter of my brain notes he steps back, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. Everything inside me starts to twirl, though I’m not sure why, only a feeling that something very wrong is about to commence again.
“Bobby, thank God you’re here,” I cry, throwing my arms around him.
A shudder passes through him. “It’s been awful not being able to talk to you. I’ve been out of my head worrying. I had to come before you leave to make sure you’re doing all right, Kaley.”
Before I leave?
I ease back and he comes into focus clearly for the first time. There is something on his face that makes me anxious and afraid. “I’m all right now that you’re here. Why are you acting so strangely, Bobby?”
Suddenly, he puts more distance between us. The abruptness sends sensation through me like a tsunami.
He shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, Kaley. Do you even have a clue what you did? To your family? To me? To you?”
“It doesn’t matter if you still love me.”
He runs a hand through his hair and now he is visibly shaking. “Love you? I love you with everything I am. But what I saw you doing—how you looked, baby—it scares the hell out of me because I don’t know if my loving you will ever be enough and I need it to be.”
My lids fly wide and I try to take back the space between us in desperate urgency, but his hands close on my arms, keeping me away.
“You’re everything to me, Bobby. We can take off like you’ve always wanted. Let’s leave. Now. Together.”
I stop him from speaking with my kisses, locking my mouth to his with the frenzied passion coursing through me. Bobby’s breath begins to quicken inside him. His body starts to mold into me in slow degrees, his mouth moving with mine—
The kiss breaks off and he springs back from me.
“No. No. No,” he whispers roughly and closes his eyes. “I can’t do this. You need to go. And I need to stay here.”
Oh God, I see it on his face and I don’t want to.
I stare at him with wounded and stricken eyes. “You came here to tell me we’re over, didn’t you?”
He looks at me, those gentle green eyes plunging into my heart like a knife. “Four days ago I would have left with you. It’s the only thing I wanted. But too much has happened. I’m not sure anymore about anything. I didn’t come here to leave with you tonight. I’m not going on this tour even though it’s the last tour for the band and Linda wants me there. We need to step back from each other. I need to figure out if I can ever be who you need me to be. You need to figure out, Kaley, if you want me because you love me or because you hate Alan.”
* * *
I sit on the patio chair through the night, turning over and over again in my head the last four days and trying to make sense of them. Mom. Alan. Bobby
. Me. I don’t know how I got here, and I don’t know where I’m going.
Light spreads across the sky. Dawn. A new day. New possibilities, as Grandpa Jack would say. I don’t see any possibilities. Or rather, not ones I want to see.
I’ve destroyed my world. Completely. Every part like tiny specks of sand on the ground at my feet, too small to scoop up. I am lost in a sandstorm of too quickly coming changes, and I can’t stop it. I am being dragged away from everything I have ever known.
Whether I want to be or not.
Alone.
With a stranger.
Alan.
CHAPTER 25
Six days later
The car drives out onto the tarmac and then stops. I shift my gaze to look out the window. Oh crap, people everywhere. The band. Families. Tour crew and press. This should be fun. Time for warped family adventure to begin.
The door is opened and I turn my gaze back to Alan. Jeez, can the guy look any more uptight? He wanted us here, none of us wanted to leave Mom, and he doesn’t haven’t the first clue what to do with us.
Waiting, Alan. Say something already or do you plan to keep us in the car all day? This is freaking ridiculous.
He removes his glasses. “Listen, there is press out there. I want you to exit the car, go directly onto the plane and say not one word to anyone.”
Krystal nods.
I roll my eyes.
My dad puts his sunglasses back on and gestures me out first. The cameras explode. There are shouted questions from every direction. I move quickly toward the stairs and trot up into the plane.
As I step into the cabin, there’s a noticeable hush. Fuck, the flight attendant looks like her eyes are about to pop out of her head. Yep, it’s true. I look just like him. It’s not tabloid bullshit or Photoshop. Get over it.
I wait impatiently for my siblings, trying not to make eye contact with anyone—especially Linda who is not so subtly glaring at me from her seat—and really wish I could figure out a way to be invisible.
I turn toward the steps as Krystal appears and closes in on me.
She frowns. “Thanks a lot for waiting for me. What are we supposed to do now?”
I shrug, since I really don’t know. Probably hold up here for Alan and the twins. Fuck, I wish they’d hurry. Standing in the front of the plane is like being on display.
Through the open door I hear more rapidly flashing camera sounds and heavy footsteps on the stairs. First Eric appears. Then my dad carrying Ethan.
My heart clenches at the sight of my brother. Ethan is so shy and sensitive. He looks absolutely miserable. I wonder if Alan gets that.
Alan motions me and Krystal to sit in the first row.
“This is Cuddy, the tour manager,” he explains. “He’ll make sure the flight crew gets you whatever you need.” He points to the hulking figure standing twenty rows away. “Back there is Nick Day, the production manager. That’s as far back in the plane as you’re allowed to go. You’re not allowed to mix with the road crew. I’m going to sleep until we land in Mumbai. Behave yourselves.”
I gape as he sets Ethan and Eric alone across the aisle from us. Really, Alan? You’re just going to dump them here in the front of the plane? No. No. No. Fuck that. This shit stops now. The five days of family holiday outside London were bad enough. I’m taking charge. I’m getting us kids bounced from this tour and back to California with Mom.
I turn in my seat, arms lying across the top, staring at Alan’s departing figure, and rummage for something to say that will piss him off. Heavy stares from all directions fix on me.
Nope, I don’t care if you stare.
What should I say?
Ah, perfect.
“Daddy, are we there yet? I’m bored.”
Alan stops and turns back toward the front of the plane.
He meets me stare for stare.
“You speak to me in that sarcastic tone of voice again and this trip is going to get real rough real fast.”
Good.
He’s irritated.
I smile.
“Sure, Pop. I just have one question, though. Why did you drag us along on the Smash the Family tour? You should have just left me home with Mom. At least she’s not an asshole.”
Direct hit. He looks like his head is about to explode. Come on, Alan, come through for me. Give up and send us home.
“Go ahead, Kaley. Keep it up. You’re only embarrassing yourself.”
He’s tough.
I’ll give him that.
I arch a brow—I am your daughter—and this girl doesn’t back down for the people she cares about.
“Fine, I’ll sit here and tweet.” Oh, that definitely has him going. I smile sweetly. “Come on, Pop. Lighten up. Admit it, that was a little funny.”
To my shock, he turns around and continues to his seat.
I drop back down into a sitting position.
Crap, that didn’t go the way I expected.
The door is closed. The steps are pulled back. The engines turn on and a few minutes later I am in the air going to Mumbai whether I want to or not.
Now what?
Krystal tugs on my arm. “Stop it. Stop bullying Dad.”
I look at her. “What? Leave me alone, Krystal. Don’t you have one of your math nerd packs to work on?”
Her eyes burn into me bright with condemnation. “You’re being awful. You’re hurting Dad. You’re embarrassing yourself. Do you know that?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m trying to get him to send us home. The twins are miserable. This is just plain wrong.”
“Don’t pretend you’re trying to do something for us. You want to go home because Bobby dumped you and you blame Dad and think he’s”—she makes dramatic air quotes—“ruining your life.”
“Don’t call him Dad. I’ve already told you that.”
“I’ll call him what I want,” Krystal snaps and I look away.
A moment later, Krystal grabs her things, unbuckles, and disappears toward the back of the plane. I struggle not to cry. Great, Kaley, great. Now you’ve got Krystal against you and she’s the closest thing to a friend you’ve got here.
I pull my legs up in front of me, heels on the edge of the seat, and lay my cheek on my knees. I just want to go home. Why doesn’t anyone get that?
For a while I watch the twins playing their handheld video devices. They’re so cute. I take my camera from my bag and debate whether to sneak a picture or take the games away. They’ve been on those darn things all day and Mom wouldn’t like it.
I let the twins continue to play, remembering the hot guy two rows behind me I spotted when I boarded the plane. Maybe I can get a picture without getting busted by Alan and having my camera taken away. That would make this trip unbearable.
I carefully lean around my seat and study that fine specimen through the viewfinder. Definitely hot. Dark hair. Gray eyes. Always a winning combination. Incredible physique.
Who is he and what does he do on the tour?
I quickly snap pictures. The guy next my Adonis isn’t bad either. Sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. Shoulders; definitely impressive.
Security maybe? They’re dressed alike. Black shirts, black slacks and black boots. But oh, they are hotties.
I click a few shots of the blond.
I turn back around and scroll through the photos. Nice. Very nice. I’ll send them to Zoe when we get the hotel. That’ll give her something to drool over.
I exhale loudly. Big fun for the day done. I turn to check on my brothers. Still glued to their video screens. Mom would be so pissed if she could see this.
Time to take the toys away and give them a book.
I’m about to interrupt them when then the super-hot guy behind me crosses in front of me and settles into Krystal’s vacant seat.
I give him the stare. “Did I say you could sit next to me?”
He grins. “No, but I didn’t ask. I don’t have to. I’m part of Alan’s private security team. Security sits in the fro
nt of the plane. We’re first off. Last on.” He holds out his hand. “Graham Carson.”
I ignore those tan fingers waiting and then he motions for the flight attendant. She brings him a drink. He downs half of it in a single swallow, then lowers a tray table and sets it down.
I glare at him, planting my feet on the ground with a loud thump. “I’m surprised you’re drinking. Doesn’t seem like a good move for security to get drunk on the flight.”
He shrugs. “It’s a long flight to Mumbai. The booze will be out of my system before we land. And something tells me I’m going to need a few drinks sitting next to you.”
Well, that was rude.
He leans into me. “And you look like you could use a friend.”
Fuck. “Maybe, but not you.”
“You know, you won’t get anywhere trying to publicly humiliate your dad. He’s not going to send you home. And he sure as hell is not going to walk away. He’s not programmed like that. And there isn’t anything you could say that would make these people respect and love him less. He’s a good man. You should really knock it off.”
I exhale. “Great. Now you’re a therapist. What are you, bodyguard by day and taking some sort of online psychology classes at night?”
Crap, now he looks amused. “Nope. Don’t need to. I’m ex-Special Forces. I’ve already taken all the online courses. Part of Delta training.”
He says that sort of charming and definitely funny, and has the gall to wait as if expecting me to laugh.
“I read people and situations pretty well,” he continues. “Definitely necessary in my job. Do you want to know how I see this battle laid out?”
“Not particularly.”
He reaches for his drink. “You are trying to get your way fighting a persona, girl, and you don’t know it. You don’t even know the real man. And if you knew the real man, you’d be ashamed of that public show of I hate my daddy you just put us all through. It’s not going to work. It’s sad to see. You are definitely too old to behave that way. And you don’t know your father at all.”
My entire face covers with a burn. “Whose fault is that?” I snap before I can stop myself.