Raising Cain

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Raising Cain Page 7

by Scarlett Jade


  He couldn’t do anything to fix it or make it stop. All he could do was stay away from her and hope the paparazzi lost interest. More than likely, he knew that his record label would send him to Europe for a while, or somewhere far away from the situation. Six hours away in L.A. wouldn’t be far enough.

  Once in the copter, he buckled up, and the pilot took off. Regret filled him as they flew away. I shouldn’t have come.

  Chapter Ten

  Grace stared at the headline on the magazine Damien had tossed on her desk. ‘Drake from Jacob’s Ladder Kicked out of Porn Mansion.’ She groaned and pushed the magazine away. “Why did you bring this in the house, Dad?”

  “They’re digging into who you are and insinuating that Cain is Drake’s son. It’s making a big mess for him,” Damien explained, leaning against the door of her office.

  “I don’t care,” Grace retorted. “He shouldn’t have come based on some stupid e-mail he thinks he got the day Christina died.”

  “Did you ever think she was sending him back to you to try and make things right, Grace? You love him. You’ve been worse than a kicked puppy since he left. Now it’s Christmas Eve, and you’re sitting in here working. Instead of being in here with me and Cain. If you didn’t care, you’d be up and making Cain’s first Christmas magical instead of sitting there moping,” Damien snapped.

  “I know,” Grace finally admitted, pushing her chair back from her computer. “I have a lot on my mind.”

  Damien crossed his arms. “Tell me what’s going through that pretty, stubborn head of yours. Maybe I can help.”

  Grace groaned and rubbed the back of her neck, seeking to ease some of the tension there. “Dr. Carter said Cain needs surgery. He’s set for January 7th. They’re going to cut him open and fix his heart. I was warming up to the idea of Drake being here, and I was willing to let my heart open up a little, then we were in Starbucks and these people just started mobbing him. Begging for a picture, hugging him, taking pictures, asking questions…I don’t need Cain to be around that. I’m protecting him.”

  Damien sighed and stepped into the room. “Why didn’t you tell me Cain was having surgery? Dammit! Grace, I get that you think you’re protecting Cain by pushing Drake away. You’re just creating fodder for the paparazzi. They haven’t left the front gate since Drake left, and that’s been over a week and a half. The second you step outside with Cain, they’re going to be taking pictures, and you’ll be all over the magazines again. You’re not protecting Cain, you’re hiding.”

  “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want him to know. I figured he’d be gone before the surgery, and I didn’t want to hold him in any way. A guy like that…they don’t stay. I thought the newspaper at Yale was bad enough, this is horrible,” Grace wailed, her head in her hands.

  “Look, you can live your life in fear, like you’re doing now, or you can admit you love the guy, admit you were wrong, and reach out to him. Either way, his career is still gonna be there. The paparazzi will still be there. Even if he drops out of the band and walks away, he’ll be fodder for a while. They’re even more curious because you’re hiding away and no one has seen you since. The kid seems to genuinely care about you and Cain. If you don’t give him a chance, how are you gonna know if he’ll stay or not?” Damien continued.

  Grace stood from her chair and walked to the window. Staring out, she sighed seeing the black car of the paparazzi sitting in front of the gate. “I can’t do anything right now. After his surgery maybe. I can’t focus on that crap and Cain too. Cain is more important.”

  Damien stepped up behind her and touched her shoulders. “It’s your choice, Grace. I’ll support you no matter what you decide. I just want you to be happy.”

  Grace leaned back into her father’s embrace. “Thanks, Dad. I am. Let’s take Cain and go down and make cookies.”

  Grace kept herself busy. Baking enough cookies to feed a small army, wrapping Cain’s presents and her father’s and slipping them under the tree, and staying up late to watch sappy Christmas romances took up some of the time. As long as she was busy she didn’t have time to think. And being too busy to think kept her numb. And being numb meant not missing Drake, and not missing Drake gave her some normalcy that she desperately needed.

  Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny, and she readied Cain for his very first Christmas. Joy filled her as she watched the tiny boy tear at his wrapping paper and be more fascinated with the shiny paper than the toys underneath. Damien handed her a present, a small, green wrapped box.

  “What’s this?” she asked, and Damien shrugged, a smirk on his lips.

  “Open it and find out,” he suggested.

  Grace unwrapped the paper and found a small jewelry box inside. “Dad, you didn’t have to…”

  “I didn’t.” Damien smiled and picked up Cain.

  Opening the box, she found a small gold pendant of a mother holding a child inside and tears filled her eyes. “How?”

  “The day he left he was going to give it to you. He mailed it to me and asked that it be put under the tree.” Damien grinned like the cat who ate the canary, and Grace closed the box with a snap.

  “I don’t want it.”

  “Aw now, Grace, don’t be like that. It’s pretty. Put it on,” Damien pleaded.

  “Cain might break it,” she explained, blinking away a fresh round of tears.

  “Do what you want.” Damien acquiesced, turning his attention back to the baby. Grace palmed the box between her hands and stood abruptly.

  “How about dinner?” She smiled brightly, forcing the thoughts of the man she loved far away.

  Once Christmas was over, and the presents were packed away, Grace found her hands idle and then her mind began to wander. Slipping out of bed, she tiptoed to her computer and searched the gossip sites to find out what Drake was doing.

  He had been spotted in Moscow with his band mate Toby, and they were at some kind of bar. Jealousy twisted somewhere deep inside as she read the article. They’d been spotted partying with the Russian pop star Lavish, who was ridiculously pretty.

  I guess that’s it then. You’re off partying. It’s for the best.

  * * *

  Drake sat alone in the hotel room in Moscow while Toby entertained the very beautiful Lavish in the next room. He turned the TV up as Lavish’s screams pierced the air. Apparently, what had started out as a couple of drinks had turned into something else entirely. Lavish had hinted several times at a threesome before reluctantly going with Toby to the next room.

  Gross, I’m not banging the same chick my best friend is. I don’t need to see Toby banging anything either. And I don’t want to do that shit. I’m in enough trouble with our manager and publicist. I think they’d shit and fall back in it if it leaked to the tabloids that I had a threesome.

  He drank another small bottle of vodka and wallowed in his misery. Christmas was long over in America and he hadn’t heard anything from Grace. He didn’t have any idea if she’d gotten the present, or if she liked it. The silence from her was more than he could stand. His record label had jetted them off to Russia, hoping the tabloids would drop the story of Drake and the porn mansion.

  Instead, they were hinting now of the exact thing Lavish had been. He hoped and prayed that Grace was staying off the Internet and wasn’t believing the lies that the scum told. Pacing around the room, he drank another little bottle of vodka and dropped it to the floor when it was empty.

  Next he started in on the tiny bottles of whiskey and drained two of them down. Love me, Grace. Call me. E-mail, smoke signals, something. Please. I need to know there’s a chance we could have a future. He drank another tiny bottle of whiskey and tried to watch television. It was impossible for him to focus on the plot of the show.

  All he could think of was Grace kissing him back with such fervor and heat in her bedroom back in Phoenix. If we hadn’t been interrupted I wouldn’t have been able to stop. Just like the first time. Fate isn’t going to give me another ch
ance. It’s just not gonna do it. My God, I’m drunk.

  “Hey, Drake.”

  He turned to see Lavish standing in the doorway, her bleached blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders and her tiny body encased in a matching crimson red bra and panty set. “Hey,” he mumbled back.

  “Why are you sitting in here all lonesome?” She came forward, and Drake shrugged.

  “You’re screwing Toby. I’m just wallowing in my misery.” Lavish knelt beside his chair, and Drake glanced down at her. “What?”

  “I could make you forget her, Drake. I could make it all better, all you have to do is just let me,” she breathed, her hand creeping along his thigh.

  Drake shook his head firmly. “No.”

  “Aw, come on, just one time. It’s just sex.” Her hand trailed higher, and Drake pushed it away. The world became slightly fuzzy.

  “Stop it. I don’t want you,” Drake garbled out.

  “I want you, and Lavish always gets what Lavish wants…” she breathed, her mouth somehow just inches from his own.

  “Grace...” The last thing he remembered was Lavish straddling his lap. “Grace…what are you doing here?” he slurred, wrapping her in his arms. He stood, and he wavered, nearly dropping the girl in his arms. “I’m so glad you came back, Grace. I love you.” He stepped forward to lay Grace back on the bed and fell, groaning as his head struck the nightstand beside the bed. “Ow…”

  * * *

  A few nights later Grace was back on the computer, scouring the gossip sites for word on Drake. It was becoming an obsession to know where he was and what he was doing, at least from the paparazzi viewpoint. Her dad was right, she did love him, and once everything was done with Cain’s surgery, she’d consider calling him and trying to work things out. Right now acting like a crazy stalker worked for her.

  Her heart pounded as she came across an article where the singer he’d been pictured with claimed she’d had sex with him and his band mate Toby in a wild threesome. Bile rose in Grace’s throat, and she clamped her hand over her mouth at the pictures attached to the article. The buxom, petite blonde lay draped over Drake, her butt cheeks out as she straddled his lap. She couldn’t quite see all of Drake’s face. It looked as though his eyes were closed in pleasure.

  Oh yeah, you never had sex with any groupies. Well, I guess since I sent you away, you were free to bone anything you wanted. So you did. I’m glad I saw this. Now I can stop pining away for you. You showed your true colors. Now I can be a mother to my child and forget you ever came up to my front door. I can forget you ever showed me any kindness. I can forget that you kissed me, that you loved me.

  She logged off the internet and pulled out her diary. Most of the entries in the small purple bound journal were about Cain and growing up with him, raising the small boy and her struggles. This entry would be pouring out her feelings about Drake. For good. Just like the last journal had been.

  Dear Diary,

  I’m heartbroken. Completely and utterly shattered. When he kissed me, I believed that maybe, just maybe we could somehow figure out a way to make it work. How could something that is so wrong for me feel so right? I just needed time. Time to figure myself out and get Cain through this surgery. Sure, I did the wrong thing, I pushed him away without any explanation. I can’t be in this life. I can’t deal with the constant innuendos from paparazzi and everyone in my business all the time. He made it clear with his little photo shoot that we have nothing. How gross can you be to take pictures of yourselves having sex? Well, I mean, other than what Dad does, but that’s totally different. It’s time to move on and pretend he was never here. Cain needs me. I need to be there for him.

  Goodbye, Drake.

  I loved you and let you go. God, this feels like déjà vu. Although this time, my face and yours are spread across the world, not just Yale. I’m not interested in this life. You came back once, you won’t come back again. We made our choices in life and now we both have to deal with the repercussions. I leave you here, as the ink drying on the pages of my diary. Another chapter of my life that is done.

  Grace

  Chapter Eleven

  Grace bent and pressed a kiss to her son’s tiny forehead. “I’ll see you soon, baby.” The nurse smiled reassuringly as she rolled him away in the tiny bed. Damien’s strong arm came around her, and she accepted his comfort.

  “It’s going to be okay, Grace,” he promised.

  “I know, Dad, it’s just so hard to see them taking my little boy away. He’s so tiny. What if something goes wrong? All it takes is one slip of a scalpel and he’s dead. I can’t imagine life without him,” Grace wailed.

  “Come now, don’t think like that,” Damien admonished, squeezing her tighter. “Grandma and Grandpa are coming in, and we’re all going to be here for him when he comes out of surgery like a champ. He’s going to. I know he will.”

  Grace hugged her father and turned to sob into his shoulder. “I’m so scared.”

  “All parents are scared when their children have to go through something scary,” Damien murmured.

  “He’ll be fine.” Grace pulled back and wiped her eyes quickly, forcing her panic deep down inside. “He’ll do great.”

  “That’s my girl.” Damien chucked her under the chin, and Grace gave him a watery smile.

  “I’m going to find some coffee.”

  “Okay, I’ll hang here,” Damien offered, sitting in a taupe chair in the waiting room.

  Grace hurried down the hall, her tears flowing freely again. He’s so tiny… The morning had been rough from the start, with the paparazzi snapping pictures the whole way out of the gate. Cain had gotten scared and started to cry, and Damien had yelled at the paparazzi, telling them to buzz off like the vultures they were.

  Then Cain had really sobbed, his wails getting louder and stronger. Grace had kept driving, hoping the hum of the road would soothe him as it usually did. Finally, her sweet boy had dozed off again. Now he was back in the operating room, having his little chest opened and his heart operated on.

  Once she came to the vending machine, she purchased two cappuccinos, one for her and one for her father. Her steps grew heavy as she moved back down the hallway. “Hey!” a voice said and a hand touched her arm.

  Grace glanced over at the middle-aged woman who was grinning widely. “What?”

  “You’re that girl they showed on TMZ this morning! You have Drake’s baby! Oh my God, and you’re at this hospital! Why are you here? What do you think of him and that Russian trollop? Me, myself I don’t get the appeal of scrawny broads like that. Were you two together? Oh my goodness, wait until I tell my friends!” The woman clung to her arm, and Grace pushed her away in her panic, forgetting she had a cup of hot coffee in both hands. The creamy drink in her left splattered all over the woman’s front. She screamed, and Grace took off at a dead run.

  “I’m sorry!” she called as she ran. Hysteria filled her and by the time she made it back to the waiting room, she was in a complete panic attack. Her father stood and rushed toward her.

  “Grace, what’s wrong?” Damien asked, his brows knitted with concern.

  “Some lady…saw me on TV. I dumped my coffee on her. Oh my God. She’s going to tell people we’re here. They think Cain is Drake’s baby.” Grace panted.

  “You need to calm down. Who gives a shit if some old biddy saw you here? No one is going to bother you and Cain. Not while I’m breathing. I promise you it will be okay. I’ll make some calls and get bodyguards in here for you, okay? Just sit down and drink your coffee.” Damien led her to a chair, and Grace collapsed into it, gripping her coffee cup with trembling hands. He made a quick call, simply stating that, “I need guys.”

  Within half an hour, four tall, broad shouldered, black garbed men were standing beside her, two on either side of her chair. They never said a word. Apparently, they knew what their job was and it wasn’t socializing with her. Grace sipped her now cold coffee. “They’re scary,” she mumbled to her father.
/>   “They’re supposed to be. I should’ve had them this morning at the gate too. We use these guys sometimes when there’s a crazy perv after one of our girls or something. Now I’m using them to protect my daughter and my grandson.” Damien squeezed her hand, and Grace tried to smile.

  The doctor came into the waiting room a short while later. The bodyguards moved closer, blocking her from seeing him. “Move!” Grace demanded. “I can talk to him.”

  “Ah, we need bodyguards?” Dr. Carter asked, obviously confused.

  “Long story.” Grace brushed off the question as she stood. “How is Cain?”

  “The surgery went well. We’re going to watch him for a bit, then put him in the neonatal ICU and monitor him for a few days. He may be here a bit, it is just touch and go right now. We’re going to be watching for fluid on his lungs, infection, the surgery possibly failing, bleeding, et cetera. I feel it was a success.” Dr. Carter smiled brightly. “You can come see him if you want. You’ll have to scrub up.”

  “Yes!” Grace jumped at the chance to be with her son. “I will.”

  “Ah, your…guards will have to stay outside recovery,” Dr. Carter informed her.

  “They will,” Damien spoke up. “They’re just here to keep any paparazzi out.”

  Dr. Carter blinked a few times, confusion written on his face. “Ah, okay.”

  “It’s a long story, like I said.” Grace smiled. “Can we go?”

 

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