I watched his eyebrows rise. “A son?”
I nodded as I ran my hands over my denim clad thighs. “Yes. Leah’s son, Gavin. He’s mine.”
Damon didn’t say anything. He just watched me for several seconds with a steely expression as I silently wondered what he was thinking. He didn’t look happy.
“Are you kidding me, right now?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”
“Fuck, Phillip. How old is that kid?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, a level of parental protection I didn’t know I had kicking in. “My son,” I corrected him, “is almost six.”
“Six,” he said in a controlled voice, but the vein in his forehead was popping out, so I knew he was pissed. “He’s six.”
“That’s what I said. His birthday’s next week.”
Damon’s nostrils flared, and he inhaled a deep breath. “So why am I just finding out about this now?”
I could have told him the truth, but a part of me didn’t want to drag Leah’s name through the mud. Regardless of her reasons, the average person would probably think she was a pretty horrible individual to keep a father from knowing that he had a son. But I knew Leah, and after getting past my own initial anger, I’d resigned myself to the fact that she’d had reasons that made sense to her that kept her from telling me about Gavin. I didn’t have to understand them, and I probably never would. All that mattered was that I knew now, and the semantics of how I’d learned the truth didn’t really play into my future with him. Besides, the less people who knew the truth about our situation, the better.
“Because it wasn’t an issue until now,” I told Damon. “Leah was raising him, but now that she’s gone, I’m getting custody of him. I wanted you to know so you could ask Katherine to make a statement on my behalf. I want to get out in front of this before the media blows it up.”
Damon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Phillip, you are twenty-four years old.”
“I am,” I agreed, not sure what that had to do with anything.
He nodded. “And this child–”
“Gavin,” I said firmly. “His name is Gavin.”
“Fine, Gavin. He’s six.”
“Yes.”
“So that means he was conceived when you were–”
“Seventeen,” I said, finishing his sentence for him.
Damon nodded. “Exactly. Do you know what that’s going to look like?”
“That I made a mistake years ago, and I’m owning up to it when it counts?” I ventured, not sure what he was getting at.
Damon shook his head. “Not even close.” He leaned back against the couch and steepled his fingers. “Phillip, you’re on-stage during your shows. You look out at the crowd and see the homemade signs and the t-shirts with your names on them, and during the meet-and-greets, you meet your biggest fans.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“And what’s the average age of a Westside fan?”
“Fourteen,” I told him, because it was a statistic that had been beat into our heads from the start. It was why we had to keep so much of what we did that wasn’t made for younger eyes out of the media.
“That’s right. Fourteen. So imagine this, a fourteen year old fan of Westside who follows your every move and gets excited when you like one of her tweets, happens to see online that you fathered a child when you were just a few years older than her. She’s shocked beyond belief, so she retweets the information to all her friends who retweet it to all their friends and so on. Then her mother sees it, and their mothers see it, and so on. Do you get where I’m going with this.”
Sadly, I knew exactly where he was going with his elaborate description of our fans’ social media addiction.
“Yes.”
“Good,” he said, as if he was praising a child. “Then you understand what a big fucking deal this is!”
“I do. That’s why I wanted to tell you. I want to make a statement. I want people to hear my side of the story.”
“Oh, your side of the story,” Damon sneered. “Is that the side that’s going to make that fourteen year-old girl want to be just like Leah and get knocked up in high school? Or is that the side that’s going to make her mother refuse to let her listen to Westside or go to your shows or even follow you on social media anymore? Which is it, Phillip?”
“Don’t talk about Leah like that again,” I warned him as I got to my feet and leaned down into his personal space. “She was a good person, and she was an amazing mother. We made a mistake years ago, but don’t talk about her like she was some slut who got pregnant because she spread her legs for anyone who’d have her. She was my best friend, and if you ever disgrace her like that, I’ll break your nose.”
Damon glared at me, but I knew I’d rattled him. He wasn’t taller than 5’8”, and he knew I could kick his ass if I wanted.
“Sit down,” he commanded.
I didn’t sit, but I did back away from him. I stood in front of him, my arms crossed over my chest, and I glared right back at him.
“What do you want from me?” I asked him, this conversation having gone in exactly the opposite of the direction that I’d been hoping for. “I have a son. It happened – before I ever joined Westside. There’s nothing I can do about it now, and if I don’t take custody of him, then I’m the asshole who abandoned his son. And I won’t do that. My dad did that to me. He ignored me, he threw money at me because he thought it would buy my affection, and he let me down time and again, because he was never there when I needed him. I will not do that to my son. I get that there are risks with sharing this publicly, and I get that there could be backlash, but this isn’t something I can just sweep under the rug. Gavin’s going to come live with me in L.A. People are going to see us together. They’re going to wonder who he is, and when they want answers, they’re going to dig for them. They’ll find out everything anyway, and I’d rather avoid all of that. So I’m sorry if this fucks up your plan for Westside to appear untainted and perfect, but the reality is, we’re not perfect. I’m an addict, and I fathered a child out of wedlock when I was seventeen. That’s who I am, and I guess if that’s not someone you want as a member of this band, then we can talk about that. I’ll leave if you want me to.”
I returned to the chair I’d been sitting in as the words I’d just said played back in my mind. Had I seriously just volunteered to leave Westside? What the fuck was I thinking? I didn’t want that. But I also didn’t want to be in a band that didn’t accept both me and Gavin. He was a part of who I was, and I couldn’t change that.
My phone buzzed in my pocket as soon as I sat down. It was a text from Van.
How’s it going?
Not good, I texted back. Damon’s pissed. I think I just quit the band.
Fuck, man!
Van didn’t say anything else, so I figured he might be in shock.
Across from me, Damon sighed. “Is that what you want?”
“No, I don’t,” I told him honestly. “But I’m not going to stay in a group where I’m not wanted and where my son’s not accepted as a part of my life. Damon, I know you’ve done a lot for me over the years. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to deal with, and I’m sorry for that, but I’ve come a long way. Six months ago, I might not have made the same decision I’m making now with the same conviction, because taking custody of Gavin pretty much means giving up my freedom. But everything is different now. My life is different, I’m different, and for the first time in years, I want to do the one thing that I know is so completely unselfish, because I know it’s also the right thing to do. I’m his father, and regardless of how I got that title, it’s who I am. And if taking on that role means I have to give up the band I love to save everyone from the fallout that could ensue, so be it. My dad never would have given up any part of himself for me, but I’m not like him, and I never will be. So if you ask me to leave the band, I won’t fight it.”
Damon opened his mouth to speak, but a pound
ing on the door of his suite interrupted us. He sighed as he got up to see who it was.
“Open the damn door, Damon,” I heard, and I thought I recognized Van’s voice.
I realized as Damon opened the door why I’d gotten radio silence from Van. He hadn’t texted me again, because he’d come directly down here to give Damon a piece of his mind. I had a feeling things were going to go very badly from here forward and realized I probably shouldn’t have been so hasty in telling Van that I was quitting. It probably did more harm than good.
“If he quits, we all quit,” Van said, pushing Damon to the side as he, Cam, and Dillon entered the suite.
I stood, not sure if I should join my bandmates or go defend Damon. Regardless of how angry I was at him, two guys trained in MMA and one pissed off best friend could knock him out in about two seconds flat. It didn’t seem fair.
“What the hell?” Damon asked as he stumbled a few steps and then righted himself.
Dillon turned on him. “We support Phillip, and we’re standing by him. If you make him quit because of Gavin, we’re all out.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Damon asked the three of them who all had their fists clenched to their sides like they were ready to fight.
“Phillip said he was quitting the band,” Cam told him.
“Yeah, and we know he was going to tell you about Gavin today,” Van chimed in. “I should have realized that you’d be a complete dick about it. Some things never change.”
Damon crossed his arms over his chest. “No one is quitting,” he said in irritation. “Phillip offered, but that’s not something I’m going to let happen. He’s too important to this band.” He turned to me. “You have put everyone through hell and back over the past few years, but Westside doesn’t work without you, Phillip. Thank you for offering to quit, but that’s not happening.”
“But you were really pissed,” I reminded him. “You were talking about fallout and negative press, and it sounded like you felt it might be easier if you didn’t have to deal with any of this.”
“I was pissed. I still am – especially after the cavalry came after me – but that doesn’t mean I want you to leave Westside.” He shook his head. “Phillip, this is a big fucking deal, there will be a lot of fallout and a ton of negative press, and quite honestly, my day would have gone a lot better if I didn’t have this on my plate to deal with, but dealing with things like this is also part of my job. You blindsided me, and I’m sorry I snapped at you.”
“Okay,” I said, not sure what I was supposed to say. I guess I should have been relieved.
Damon ran a hand back through his hair. “My dad was a dick too. He left my mom and my sister and me when I was a kid, and we rarely saw him. I get it, and I wouldn’t want any kid to have to go through that – especially a kid who just lost his mother. I think it’s admirable what you’re doing, but it doesn’t mean the press or the fans or the parents of our fans are going to agree with me. This could get really ugly.”
I sighed. “I know. I’ve thought about that.”
Damon nodded. “So we control what we can.”
“That’s what I was hoping for,” I told him.
He jerked his head toward the sitting area. “Sit down. Let’s call Katherine and figure this thing out.” Then he turned to the guys. “You can stay or go. It’s your call.”
“We’ll stay,” Van said, speaking for the collective group.
Dillon and Cam nodded.
“We probably need to know what the plan is anyway, so we can respond accordingly to questions we’re asked,” Cam said, providing a sense of logic to the chaos that had ensued since they’d burst through the door.
“No one’s answering any questions,” I told them and Damon. “I’ll make one statement about Gavin, but after that he’s off-limits. No interviews, no magazine spreads of our new life in L.A., and no questions from the press. That’s a hard no for me.”
“Then that’s where we’ll start,” Damon said as he picked up his cell phone to call Katherine.
I had a feeling she wasn’t going to be happy with me either. She already didn’t like my girlfriend, and she’d always been annoyed by how much work I caused her with my antics over the years. This was just one more thing she was going to have to deal with on my behalf. But at the same time, we paid her a lot of money to work her magic, so I didn’t feel all that bad about it. She’d get over it. I didn’t like how she’d treated Sabrina over the years anyway.
“Hey Kath, it’s Damon,” I heard him say as I took a seat in the chair I’d been sitting in before. “We’ve got a situation I want to get out in front of.”
* * *
As Sabrina and I pulled up to Leah’s house, I felt like I might be sick, but it was for a totally different reason than the last time I’d been there. Of course there was still the dull ache that reminded me that she was gone, but now it was coupled with the fact that I could easily get rejected by a six year-old. It was a surreal kind of fear that told me just how much I wanted this to work out.
I’d found a house on the beach a few blocks from where Cam, Andi, and Dillon lived. Van had wanted me to move into the Hollywood Hills near him, and I’d looked at a place there, but when I’d walked into the two story beach house, I could see Gavin there. It had a pool with a slide and a hot tub, and it had access to a private beach. Screw a yard. He could have the beach to himself. I knew he was going to love it – if he was okay with everything. And as far as I was concerned, that was a big if.
I took Sabrina’s hand in mine as we walked up to the front door, but we didn’t even get to ring the bell before Gavin flung the door open, a huge grin on his face. Okay, so maybe he’d be cool with everything.
“Phillip!”
My heart started to pound as he launched himself at me, and I involuntarily pulled him into my arms and picked him up like I always had. But everything was different now. I was hugging the boy I’d hugged too many times to count over the years, but I was also hugging my son.
My son. It was still a surreal thought to me, regardless of how many days I’d had to digest the information. I wondered when it might start to feel normal to think of Gavin that way.
The last time I’d seen him, I’d known about his birth certificate, and that knowledge had definitely made me look at him differently. For the first time in my life, I saw what Kelsey was talking about. Even though he favored Leah in so many ways, there were parts of him that could have been from me. I just hadn’t thought it was really possible at the time, so I hadn’t even tried to see our similarities. But now that I knew, everything felt so profoundly different.
“How have you been, kid?” I asked him, forcing myself to act normal.
He looked sad for a few seconds. “I miss my mommy,” he said solemnly. “I’m sad that she’s not here.”
I felt a wave of emotion hit me as he said that. “I miss her too, buddy – every day. How’s your arm?”
The arm Gavin had broken in the accident would need to be in its cast for another three weeks. It had been bothering him a lot the first week as the injury had started to heal. He’d even woken up in the middle of the night crying in pain. I’d hoped it wasn’t still bothering him as much.
“It itches,” he said, making a face.
I smiled. “Yeah, I can imagine.”
“Aunt Kelsey bought me some new movies,” he said cheerfully. “Do you want to watch one?”
And how quickly he could turn on a dime with his emotions.
“Maybe later,” I told him.
I looked up to see Kelsey standing in the doorway. She had that off-duty model look down pat with her dark hair pulled up into a knot on top of her head and her skinny jeans rolled up to show her bare ankles and feet. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was smiling.
“Hey you,” I said as I set Gavin down and he turned his attention to Sabrina, who I knew he was slightly enamored with.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Kelsey told me as I
stepped forward to hug her.
“Me too,” I told her, hugging her tighter and longer than was usually customary for us. But after everything we’d been through and what we were about to take on together, it seemed fitting. “How’s he doing?”
She shrugged. “He has good days and bad days – same as us.”
I nodded as I heard Sabrina talking to Gavin behind us and looked back to see her squatting down in front of him. He was looking at the comic books she’d brought him. I wasn’t sure if he had any, but she’d sworn her brother had loved them when he was a kid, so she thought Gavin would too. I was impressed with how easily she was taking all of this. It was a head trip for sure, and no one said that she needed to be a part of it. I was so glad she was though.
“He’s really happy to see you,” Kelsey told me, following my gaze to Gavin. “It’s all he’s been talking about since he got up this morning.”
“I’m glad to see him too,” I said as my nerves spiked again. “So how do we want to do this?”
“Let’s tell him now. The sooner the better.”
I nodded as I felt my palms get sweaty. A part of me wanted time to visit with Gavin and gear myself up for what I had to do, but I also knew that no amount of planning and preparing was going to make the conversation any easier. I just had to rip off the bandage and hope for the best.
“Okay. I’m ready,” I told Kelsey.
I was so not ready.
“You want me to be there when you talk to him?”
She had asked me the same thing when we’d talked a few days earlier, and then I wasn’t sure. Now I knew that I wanted to talk to my son alone, man to man.
“No, why don’t you keep Sabrina company, and I’ll talk to him. You should get to know her better anyway. I’m pretty sure she’s going to be a fixture in my life from now on.”
Kelsey smiled. “That’s so great. You deserve to be happy, Phillip.”
“She takes care of that for sure,” I said, looking back at Sabrina who had Gavin enthralled with whatever comic they were perusing.
“I’m really glad to hear that,” Kelsey said softly. “Gav, why don’t we invite Sabrina and Phillip inside?”
Westside Series Box Set Page 114