Stardust (The Starlight Trilogy #3)

by Alexandra Richland

  “Oh, Aidan.” Her purse slipped off her shoulder as she fell to her knees. Tentatively, she touched his forearm. A shudder tore through her. Goodness, he felt so cold.

  “Come on. Let’s get settled.” Olivia helped her to her feet and stowed her jacket and purse in the closet. They claimed the two chairs at Aidan’s bedside.

  “Can I do anything to help him?” Beth regarded the physician with broad, desperate eyes.

  Dr. Billings approached the bed. “Although there is no medical evidence to support it, I believe talking to him might do some good.”

  Beth leaned toward her beau. “Aidan, it’s Beth. I love you very much. Please come back to me. Please.”

  “I’ll leave you now. Call me if you need anything.” Dr. Billings patted her shoulder and left the room.

  Beth tossed Olivia a teary glance. “He looks so helpless.”

  Olivia straightened Aidan’s blanket. “He’ll get well, especially now that you’re here.”

  A knock announced visitors. Olivia opened the door and greeted Connie and Matthew, much to Beth’s surprise and delight.

  “We came as soon as we heard.” Connie embraced Olivia.

  “Beth and I just arrived. How did you know Aidan was here?”

  Matthew exchanged hesitant looks with Connie. “Nathan called us. He told us about Aidan’s condition and arranged clearance with hospital security so we could visit.”

  Olivia’s lower lip trembled. “That was…nice of him.”

  Connie crossed the threshold. Her eyes widened when they landed on Aidan.

  “Dear God.” Releasing a sob, she threw herself at her fiancé and buried her face in his chest.

  Matthew stroked Connie’s hair…swallowed hard. A muscle in his jaw twitched.

  His shimmering eyes met Beth’s. Unspoken words of sympathy and sadness underscored the silence between them. The all-American crooner, with the dimpled grin he wore so frequently it became his trademark, looked on the verge of an emotional breakdown. There would be no friendly banter today. No laughter or song.

  Once Connie regained her composure, she rushed over to Beth. “I’m so sorry.”

  Beth stood and hugged Connie in lieu of a verbal greeting. She didn’t think she could get any words out without bursting into tears again.

  “Do you think Aidan can hear us?” Matthew set their suitcases next to the door.

  Olivia answered on Beth’s behalf. “We’re not sure, but the doctor says it doesn’t hurt to talk to him.”

  Matthew approached the bed, holding his fedora with trembling hands. “Hey, Aidan. It’s Matthew. Connie is with me. We’ve come to, uh—” He grimaced and turned away, but not quickly enough to hide the tear that tumbled from his left eye.

  Using a silk handkerchief he pulled from his pocket, Matthew wiped his face on his hasty charge to the opposite side of the room. He stopped in front of the window with his back to the group. Head down, he stood there silently, the slump of his shoulders the only indication of the anguish broiling within him.

  Beth took her seat. It was time to speak, whether it was hard for her or not. “Thank you both for coming.” She sniffled. “Aidan appreciates it, too. I know he does.”

  Matthew faced the room again, his aggrieved expression belonging to a man who would use any means necessary to protect his friends, his family. “We’re here for however long it takes until Aidan is well again.”

  At Beth’s suggestion, the women gathered a washbasin filled with soap and water and cleaned the dried blood on Aidan’s face, around his bandages.

  Alongside her friends, Connie rolled up her sleeves, tied back her hair, and performed basic care practices with the utmost dedication. She even bought flowers from a shop across the street to freshen up the place—surprising acts of kindness, given her rocky history with Aidan, but welcome nonetheless. They rallied together, just like old times, and the mood lightened. One look at Olivia, though, was a reminder that an important member of their group was still missing.

  While Beth’s friends came and went throughout the day, she refused to leave Aidan’s room. She maintained a vigil at his bedside, speaking to him regularly and humming the song he wrote for her.

  Sometime in the afternoon, Olivia squeezed her shoulder, drawing her attention from her beau. “Beth, we’re going to the cafeteria to get you some food. You haven’t eaten since we arrived.”

  “Any requests?” Matthew put on his fedora.

  Beth’s smile was faint but genuine. “Whatever you choose will be fine.”

  “All right. We’ll be back shortly.” Connie grabbed her purse and left the room with Matthew and Olivia.

  Beth shifted her gaze back to Aidan. In slumber, he always looked so peaceful. The tension around his mouth was gone, the grooves between his brow smoothed out.

  Aidan had driven to Chicago to talk to his father, she was sure of it, but it was a mystery as to whether a meeting had actually taken place. If it did, were a hostile confrontation and a hasty departure responsible for his accident? She hoped his return provided him with the same solace visiting Clarkson had granted her, but given the weathered man before her, it didn’t seem promising.

  Beth retrieved a container of petroleum jelly from a supply closet and applied it to Aidan’s scabbed lips. When she was done, she slipped her open hand under his, not holding it for fear of hurting him, but just letting him know she was still here.

  An older nurse with a nametag that read Rita entered and nodded a greeting. She replaced the nearly empty glass intravenous bottle with a new one and shifted Aidan’s position in bed.

  As Rita headed for the door, Beth cleared her throat softly. “Excuse me, ma’am.”

  She pivoted in the doorway. “Yes, Miss Sutton?”

  “From your experience, do patients usually…I mean, if they’re in a coma…” Beth gulped. “Do they usually wake up?”

  Rita’s eyes softened, revealing the compassionate nature suited to her profession. “We have a chapel on the main floor, adjacent to the lobby. Prayer is often comforting at a time like this.” Following a glance at the crucifix hanging over Aidan’s bed, she exited the room.

  Beth slouched in her chair, tears obscuring her vision. She chastised her attitude using adjectives inappropriate for a lady, never mind a Catholic hospital, but the only ones that seemed to do her situation justice. She didn’t want to cry—with all of her heart she wanted to remain optimistic—but the waiting, the seriousness of Aidan’s condition, and the lack of assurance from hospital staff left her feeling defeated.

  A knock, hesitant in its delivery, pulled Beth from her reflections. Her heart leapt when she saw who stood in the doorway. She barreled toward her visitor, wrapping him in the tightest hug possible.

  “Nathan! Oh, I’ve missed you so!”

  “Hello, Beth.” He dropped his head to her shoulder and released a deep breath against her ear. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  Beth peered up at him, sharing a full-blown smile. While his coiffed hair, neatly pressed suit, and straight posture conveyed confidence, his weary gaze confessed the truth. Aidan’s eyes were often bloodshot because of his insomnia, but Nathan’s eyes rivaled the sun when it hovered over the horizon—so fiery red in color they burned her just by looking at them.

  “I’m sorry, Beth. I know the words are inadequate, but you must believe their sincerity.”

  “It’s not your fault, Nathan. None of it is.”

  “But I—”

  “Guilt is useless when felt for no reason except to torture yourself and displace the blame from the true culprit. Connie went through it—Aidan, me, and now you. I won’t stand for it any longer.”

  Nathan brushed his hand to her hair. “You’re a strong woman, Beth. You’ve always been strong.” Sadness settled on his face as his attention drifted to her beau. “I spoke to Dr. Billings upon my arrival. I’m glad Aidan’s condition changed from grave to stable since my initial conversation with him.”

  “Me, too.” Beth press
ed her cheek to Nathan’s chest, finding solace in his embrace. He had a calm and comforting aura about him, a fraternal quality that made her feel safe. She was so grateful he was here. Their group was now complete, reminding her of another detail, of which he was probably unaware.

  “Olivia accompanied me to Chicago. She’s at the hospital cafeteria right now with Connie and Matthew.”

  Nathan drew back abruptly. “Liv is here?”

  “Yes. She booked her airline ticket after you booked mine. She wouldn’t let me come alone. By the way, thank you for making my travel arrangements. You really came through for me.”

  “It was the least I could do.” Nathan adjusted the fedora on his head. “Anyway, I should go.”

  Beth recoiled. “What do you mean? You just arrived.”

  Regret passed across his face. “Beth, you’ve been very gracious to me, but I don’t believe the others will be as forgiving.”

  A frown descended upon her lips. “Olivia loves you. She’ll want to see you.”

  Nathan’s jaw set tightly. “She used to love me.”

  “She still does.”

  “I wasn’t going to come to Chicago, but I needed to see Aidan’s condition for myself and determine if there was anything more I could do to help.” The fissures in his brow deepened. “I never planned on staying.”

  Beth took his hand. “Please do. We need you.”

  “I can’t. Even if Olivia still loves me, I’m unworthy of her. My past is—”

  “In the past.”

  Nathan wrenched from her grasp. “But I lied to all of you.”

  “It must’ve been for a good reason. You would never hurt us on purpose.”

  He bowed his head. “I truly didn’t have a choice.”

  Beth cradled his cheek in her hand. “I forgive you and Liv will, too.”

  “Perhaps when Aidan is discharged from the hospital, I’ll contact her. I don’t want to bother her when she already has a lot on her plate—”

  A gasp erupted behind Beth. She and Nathan stepped apart and turned toward the corridor. Olivia stood with Connie and Matthew, her face absent of color. She gaped at Nathan, as though she had difficulty accepting that he was here.

  “My apologies. The last thing I wanted to do was upset you all.” Nathan ducked his head and exited the room, avoiding eye contact with everyone. He made it halfway down the hallway before Olivia spoke.

  “Wait!”

  Nathan stopped. The silence that wedged between them was filled with hope…longing.

  Olivia took a step toward him. Followed by another. And another. Nathan turned around. When tears toppled from her eyes, he darted over to her and captured her in his arms. He grimaced as sobs retched from her throat, as if each one was a slash to his heart.

  Beth had never seen Nathan cry before, but as he held on to his beloved, tears flowed down his face.

  “My darling. Why are you so good to me? I don’t deserve it.” Nathan framed Olivia’s face in his hands, grazing his thumbs across her wet cheeks.

  “Because I love you.” Her voice broke. “I always have and always will. That dreadful Luther Mertz is to blame for your mistakes. You’re a great man, Nathan. The greatest man I know.”

  “There are things I need to tell you—not to justify my actions but to shed some light on why I let Luther control me, why I stayed behind when the rest of you fled.” Nathan motioned toward Aidan’s room. “I’d like you all to hear what I have to say, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” Matthew escorted Connie into the room and set the food they’d purchased on the bedside table.

  Beth’s hunger vanished, replaced by relief over Nathan’s return. As Nathan and Olivia entered the room hand in hand, she also felt something else she thought had abandoned her forever: optimism.

  When she reclaimed her seat next to Aidan, she placed her fingers to his wrist and focused not on his injuries but how grateful she was to be reunited with him. All was not lost as long as he drew breath, as long as his pulse fluttered under her loving touch.

  Nathan removed his fedora and hung it in the closet. “My mother isn’t dead.”

  Olivia’s eyes flared with shock and bewilderment. Beth didn’t blame her friend. She, too, was stunned. It seemed inconceivable, based on Nathan’s own statements to the contrary in the months since she’d met him. Instead of bombarding him with questions, she kept silent, allowing him to open up as he saw fit.

  “Her name is Marion Taggart, but you’d know her best as Marion Whitney.”

  Recognition skipped across Connie’s face. “The actress?”

  Nathan nodded. “She’s housed at a mental institution in New York City. She’s…unwell.”

  “I remember her from my childhood.” Olivia shared her comments gently. “My mother was a big fan of hers. She used to take my brother and me to see all of her pictures. I always wondered what became of her.”

  “My mother’s mental illness progressed to the point where she could no longer work at the studio or function well on her own. Luther used his influence to have her admitted to Bellevue Hospital in secret and paid for the best care money could buy, including silence from the medical staff. That’s why the public never learned about her condition.”

  “Mr. Mertz thrives on exposing people’s weaknesses and using them to his advantage.” Connie regarded Nathan in confusion. “Why would he help her?”

  Nathan’s eyes dimmed. “Apparently, Luther and my mother were in love.”

  “In love?” Olivia’s voice rose. “I don’t believe it!”

  “I had no idea until a few days ago.” Nathan exhaled deeply. “After my father’s death, I moved to New York in hopes of getting into journalism and to be closer to my mother—who I thought was living in an uptown apartment. The truth was she was homeless. After Luther had my mother admitted to the hospital, he reached out to me and blackmailed me into working for him, insisting that he would pay her medical bills if I did his bidding without question.”

  Olivia shook her head. “How awful.”

  “I swear I had no clue that Luther was making unsolicited advances toward his female employees and passing them off to men who worked for him. If I did, I would’ve severed ties with him sooner.” Nathan tugged at the knot in his tie. “Typically, my jobs for him involved covering up scandals that jeopardized his financial investments into people’s careers. What he tried to do to Beth, however, was damning to his moral character directly.

  “I couldn’t turn a blind eye anymore. I threatened to expose the man he truly is, using my contacts at the press, if he didn’t step down from his position at the studio and let me quit. I hated resorting to his tactic of blackmail, but it was the only way to ensure that my mother remained in Bellevue’s care and he’d never hurt anyone again.”

  Olivia’s eyes flickered with expectation. “So you don’t work for Mr. Mertz anymore? You’re free?”

  “My conscience is shackled to my past mistakes, so I don’t consider myself completely free. But yes, my work with Luther has thankfully come to an end.” Nathan sighed. “I didn’t tell you all the truth about my mother for fear that my deal with Luther would be revealed. I didn’t want to risk destroying the only financial support my mother had—which, of course, was before I knew he would’ve supported her no matter what because of his feelings for her. I’m not ashamed of my mother. I just want people to remember her as she was.”

  Nathan shifted his turbulent gaze to Connie. “I’d heard what happened to you years ago, but I assumed you chose that path to kick-start your career. I was foolish not to have realized what was really going on—that you were coerced into submission. I’m truly sorry.”

  Connie smiled—not the gleaming smile used to win over film audiences, but an unguarded, effortless smile that shone with genuineness. “I appreciate your concern, but you’re not to blame for what happened. I’m just glad you’re finally able to move on from Mr. Mertz.”

  Nathan shoved his hands into his pockets. A pout se
ized his lips. “I should’ve left Luther’s office when all of you did, but I was terrified he’d be on the telephone with Bellevue right away, planning his retaliation.”

  “If you needed money, why didn’t you come to us? We would’ve helped you.”

  The others nodded in support of Beth’s statement.

  Nathan shook his head. “The financial cost is too much to bear for a woman you don’t know.”

  “But we care about you.”

  “Regardless, I never felt right turning to others for help.”

  Matthew’s brow wrinkled. “So Bellevue’s fees are more than what you made working at the studio?”

  Nathan dragged his hand along the back of his neck, dodging the curious stares of Olivia and his friends. “See, that’s the thing…Luther never paid me a salary. He paid for all of my expenses. He gave me a house, a beach cottage, a car, weekly allowance, more than any man would ever need, but I was never officially on the payroll.”

  Matthew frowned. “Why couldn’t you have left the studio earlier and worked some place where you would’ve earned a salary? You’re well established in the industry. I’m sure you could’ve easily found another employer who’d utilize your skills. That way, it wouldn’t have mattered if Mr. Mertz stopped paying your mother’s hospital bills.”

  “The way I rationalized it was, until the incident with Beth, I had no reason to leave. I wanted for nothing in the materialistic sense and my mother was taken care of. Sure, I wasn’t always happy doing Luther’s bidding, but I convinced myself it was worth it if she was safe. Only when I realized the extent of his treachery did I have the motivation and the means to quit.”

  “Now that you’re unemployed, what’s going to happen to your mother?” Connie asked.

  “I called Bellevue before I left L.A. They told me her bills have been paid for the next six months in advance, nonrefundable, so that bides me some time to come up with a plan to earn the money to cover her stay.”

  “We’ll all pitch in, and we won’t take no for an answer.” Matthew arched his eyebrows. “So what did Luther say when you told him he had to step down from his position at the studio?”