Damaged Love

by Sarah J. Brooks

  The officer standing by touched him on his shoulder and told him his time was up. He glanced at the female police officer and saw the sympathy in her eyes. He turned back to his mother, reached through the bars and grabbed her hand. She squeezed it and nodded, then detangled herself.

  “Now go, your time is up,” she whispered.

  He saw the pain in her eyes and heard the thickness of her voice as she tried to hold back her tears. She mouthed the words that made his knees buckle and the sob erupt from deep within his belly. “I love you,” her mouth formed the words.

  His knees gave out, and a shrill cry wrenched from his gut. The guard grabbed his shoulder to keep him from falling. He tried to wrangle himself free, but she was strong and held fast. She held him tightly and half dragged him out. His mother turned her back and faced the jail wall, her shoulders hunched as she shuddered. He knew she was crying but trying to hide it from him. His own screams turned into sad moans and whimpers as the guard dragged him from the jail cell toward the main area.

  As he walked out into the bright California sunshine that day, he heard the guard speak, but her voice was a distant echo in his mind. He was dazed and numb from the pain of seeing his mother behind bars and her telling him never to see her again.

  The pain of the last time he saw her lasted several years. When he could stand it no longer, he went back to the jailhouse to visit her and was told that she was in state prison for the murder of her husband. He tried seeing her, but she refused him. Eventually, the guards at the prison gate would not let him through and told him if he continued coming by they would have to lock him up as well.

  His world as he knew it shattered around him. For him to live, he had to start building a wall around himself, buried in darkness. He spent the next twenty years burying the past. Now it came back with a bang and the guilt of his mother rotting in jail for a crime he committed.

  A groan escaped his lips as the car neared the hotel. Chelsea turned to him questioningly. He tried a smile, but it turned into a grimace instead. He gripped her hand and squeezed the way his mother had done the day she told him never to visit her in jail.

  As he held on to Chelsea, he did not want to let go. Another dark cloud was lurking. He knew the feeling well. Every time something good happened, a bad one penciled it out. It was becoming tiring. Jason crossed his mind, and he wondered if perhaps he would show up again. He would be stupid if he did, but Jason wasn’t known to be very wise thinking.

  Chapter 28

  The cab stopped in front of the hotel lobby, and he gripped Chelsea’s hand as soon as they exited. His heart had taken on a heavy drumming, almost deafening him. That wasn’t all, as soon as he stepped onto the pavement, bright flashes of light blinded him. A cackle of voices rushed at them from all angles. He tried to shield Chelsea, but she stepped in front to protect him.

  “Colt, where have you been? Is it true you were kidnapped?” a male reporter asked.

  “There are rumors that you were abducted by a crazed fan,” one female stated.

  “I assure you that Colt was never kidnapped. He needed time to rest and deal with a personal matter,” Chelsea calmly told them. “Now, if you’ll excuse us. We will reschedule the press meeting, and I hope that you will respect his privacy.”

  She took Colt’s hand and walked into the lobby. The hotel security blocked the entrance from the press entering, so they were free and clear for the time being. Colt was smiling at last, and she breathed a sigh of relief that he was feeling better. When they were near the elevator, he pulled her into his arms and wrapped them around her.

  “Someone will see us,” she whispered, trying to pull away.

  He paused. “So what?”

  “What?”

  “I said, so what? I need you right now.”

  “I know you do, and I’m here,” she replied.

  “Then it doesn’t matter who sees us.”

  She shook her head. “Colt,” she turned to face him. “You know what will happen? The press will eat this up and that Benson fellow. I don’t trust him. Why don’t we take this one step at a time?”

  “Are you afraid?” he asked a little disappointed.

  “I’m not afraid, but you are Purple Crush, we can’t be seen getting too close in public.”

  “I don’t care about all that now, Chelsea,” he replied, pulling her close once more.

  “So this is it? I can’t believe you, Chelsea!” Reid’s voice was sharp as a knife cutting through their moment.

  Colt raised his head. “Don’t blame Chelsea; I asked her not to tell you.”

  “She had a choice to tell me,” Reid protested. “Besides, what will people think about you two …?” He glared at them for a minute before asking, “Where have you been?”

  They continued into the elevator while Colt returned his reply, “At my old house.”

  Reid’s head snapped around to face him as the elevator door closed. “You remembered?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “How much,” Reid queried.

  “All of it,” he said.

  “I’ll call the attorney as soon as we get up to the suite,” the manager said. His voice sounded relieved as if a burden was lifted.

  Reid ran ahead of them and started making his calls. He was on the phone for about an hour with Colt’s personal lawyer. Colt and Chelsea sat on the sofa and talked about his childhood and what happened after he ran away from home. He spent many years on the streets until he got a job washing dishes in a restaurant. While he worked at the restaurant, he entered a talent contest and won for best vocal talent. His prize was a guitar.

  Reid hung up the phone and turned to Colt. He clenched his jaw together and gave Colt an intense stare. His eyes were like steel, and his lips in a line. Colt waited. It must be some bad news from the lawyer, he told himself.

  “What is it?” he inquired.

  Reid gripped his shoulders and stared into his eyes. “Brace yourself Colt, this isn’t good news.”

  “Just tell me.” He was getting impatient.

  “Your mother has been taken ill,” he replied slowly.

  He felt the blood drain from his face. Chelsea moved up beside him, taking his hand. He dropped himself onto the sofa while he waited to hear the rest of it.

  “Maybe we should talk about this in private,” Reid looked at Chelsea as he spoke.

  “No need. Chelsea knows everything,” Colt replied. “I need to go see her.”

  He clenched his jaw until his face hurt. This was getting too much now. He needed to make things right after all the wrong things he’d done. The idea that he may never see his mother again crossed his mind, and he felt a punch to his stomach. It almost knocked the wind out of him.

  “Colt, I know you want to see your mother, but the press has been all over the news since your disappearance,” Reid said. “You’ve been gone for a week, and you missed your press meeting ... twice!”

  “Are you saying I should not see her?”

  “She’s under police guard because she’s a prisoner. You know how these things work. The press will have a field day with this.”

  “He’s right, Colt,” Chelsea’s voice was calm. She took his hand reassuringly, but he wasn’t convinced.

  He had not seen his mother since she refused to see him many years ago; how could he stay away from her now that she needed him? He turned to Reid, but the man was busy on the phone. Chelsea pulled him aside and touched his face. Her touch was soothing. The pain of a few seconds ago melted with the warmth of her hand and was replaced by a small spark of heat.

  “We’ll go see her, but you must follow my lead, okay?”

  “Okay,” he agreed without asking her what she had planned.

  “Now go take a shower. I’ll come back for you in twenty minutes,” she whispered.

  He watched her leave the room, and a part of him left with her. The thought crossed his mind that he’d gone soft. This was the first time in his life he missed someone or hated to
see them go. The feeling was weird, and it worried him. What if it made him weak? He’d relied on his attitude to keep him going. Now that attitude changed to something unfamiliar. Chelsea seemed to have broken down the walls he’d built around his heart, leaving him vulnerable.

  He showered and changed as she instructed. When he returned to the living area, Reid was standing by the window. The manager turned and looked at him from head to toe.

  “Where are you off to?”

  “I don’t …” he began to answer.

  “On our first date,” Chelsea’s voice cut in.

  Reid’s head whipped around to face her. “After all the fiasco, you are thinking about going out on a date? Are you crazy?”

  “No, we’re not going out,” she said with a smile. “We’re having lunch in my room. It’s private, and we won’t be disturbed.”

  “Is that a good idea, the two of you alone in your room?” Reid was nonplussed.

  She looked at him with a frown. “We were alone for a week in the middle of nowhere. If something were to happen, it would have already, don’t you think?”

  Reid snapped his mouth shut and went red. Colt was uncertain whether the man was angry or embarrassed. Reid’s eyes followed them out as they left the room. Chelsea took his hand and moved past her room, looking carefully up and down the passage. She led him to the staircase, which led to the employee section. She picked up a bag stuffed into one corner and extracted a pair of shades and a baseball cap.

  “How am I supposed to cover your tats?” she mused.

  “Ah, disguise, you should have told me to wear long sleeves.”

  She nodded. “Put these on. We will have to go out back. And pull up your hair, so it doesn’t show.”

  “Yes boss.” He grinned.

  “Reid is going to get suspicious after a while you know; we’ll have to move quickly.”

  “How are we going to get there?” He was curious.

  “Cab is waiting,” was her reply. “I’ll tell him to come around back.”

  True to her word, the cab met them at the delivery entrance at the back of the hotel where it took them to the hospital. Just as Reid had predicted, the hospital room was guarded. A single warden sat outside the hospital room door. He was asleep. Apparently, he did not consider the patient a flight risk.

  Chelsea had stopped at the nurse’s station to ask about the whereabouts of his mother’s room. Now he was standing several feet away and could not go further. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to drum up his courage. All on a sudden, he was scared to face her. What if she didn’t want to see him? How sick was she anyways?

  “Let’s go,” Chelsea whispered beside him.

  He tried to move his right leg, but it was frozen in place. Crap, what the hell was happening to him? He willed his feet to move and then was walking toward the room like a zombie, except with a slight limp from his broken toe. The guard was softly snoring. He opened the door quietly, and Chelsea’s eyes rested on the guard. The man shrugged in his sleep but did not open his eyes.

  She stood at the door and shoved him gently. He looked at her questioningly, and she shook her head, then beckoned for him to go inside. He was a little disappointed that she was not coming with him. However, he knew she wanted him to have some privacy.

  The room smelled of hospital disinfectant, which he hated. Nevertheless, the place was clean. A memory of his father in his last days surfaced and stabbed his chest. He shook it off and looked down at the bed. There she was. The woman who had always been a tower of strength, one strong enough to take on a prison sentence for her son was lying unmoving with an oxygen mask and tubes.

  With a heavy heart, he pulled the chair up beside the tiny bed. The room was the usual small cubicle with a tiny window overlooking the back of the hospital grounds; a small cupboard was on the left, and to the right were the machines hooked up to his mother.

  “Mom, oh Mom,” he groaned. “I’m sorry Mom.”

  He picked up her frail hand. It was cool to the touch. She’d lost a lot of weight and aged terribly. He rested his hand on her forehead, and that too was cool. Her once dark brown hair was now dark gray. He brushed a strand from her forehead and caressed her cheeks. Voices in the hall brought his attention to look at the door. He planted a quick kiss on her forehead and took one last long look before heading out.

  The guard was awake, and Chelsea was reasoning with him. He looked suspiciously at Colt as he exited the room.

  “He’s her son,” she said. “What can he do; she’s unable to move, right?”

  “Okay, I’ll let you off if you don’t report that I was sleeping,” the guard said.

  “Okay, we won’t, if you promise to let us see her again.”

  Chapter 29

  Chelsea spent the rest of the afternoon re-arranging the press meeting, confirming the date for the next concert and checking in with the crew. They understood that Colt had something going on, and they were used to him not being at rehearsals anyway.

  Colt was out with Reid, meeting his attorney who flew in from NY on a private jet. It was better that they sorted everything out privately. If they could get Colt’s mother released without Colt doing any jail time, that would be best. She was worried for him. Fortunately, he had not hidden himself away the way he used to. Something about him was different, now that they’d grown close.

  Her friend Molly had been calling for days. She’d missed many calls. After she completed her tasks, she returned the call. She missed female company and wished her friend could be with her. Molly’s phone rang thrice before she answered.

  “Where have you been? I’ve been calling for nearly a week now,” Molly scolded.

  She smiled into the phone. “I’m sorry, it’s just been hectic here.”

  “I’m going home for a visit,” Molly announced.

  “What? You said you’d never return, what happened?”

  “My mom’s sick; I need to see her. I don’t want her dying angry at me, you know,” Molly’s voice was sad. “Anyhow, that’s not why I called.”

  “Why’d you call?”

  Molly hesitated before replying, “Something strange happened. I needed some cash, so I boarded someone for a couple of nights. She was pretty, but quiet. But the strange part is that I happened to accidentally see some photos and newspaper clippings she had in a pouch.” She paused.

  “Yes, tell me, what’s strange about that?”

  “She had some photos of her and two boys, some of a man and a woman and three kids including herself. But then there were these newspaper clippings of Colt.”

  “She must be a fan.” Chelsea laughed.

  “No, it’s more than that. These clippings are from when Colt first became famous, a long time ago, and almost every newspaper article about him,” Molly informed him.

  Chelsea had to admit that it sounded strange. Perhaps Colt had a stalker. “What else?” she asked.

  “One of the boys in the photo looks a lot like Colt. I mean, he is a dead ringer for when Colt just started out. You can definitely see that this is the same person from the photos.”

  An uneasy feeling settled in Chelsea’s stomach. What connection did that girl have with Colt?

  “Where is she now? Did you ask about the photos?”

  “I asked, and she told me it was not my business, but I have no clue where she went. She had a guitar. Maybe it’s someone he dated?”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. Jealousy cut through her like a knife at the thought of Colt having a girlfriend who saved pictures of him … then she remembered something. He told her he had a stepsister who ran away. Could it be her?

  “Molly, if you happen to hear from the girl again, call me, okay?

  “Okay, but I doubt she’ll return. She wasn’t keen on me asking her about those photos, and she left in the middle of the night.”

  They chatted a while longer about Molly’s mother before they said their farewells. All through the rest of the conversation, Chelsea’s m
ind was on the woman. She was almost certain it was Colt’s stepsister, but she needed to confirm it. The only problem was, she didn’t know how. If she could somehow get a hold of a photo and send it to Molly, she could confirm whether it was the same girl. The only way to do that was to head back to the cottage. She remembered the address Colt had given her, so she called a cab and headed out.

  As she closed the suite door behind her, someone moved into the shadows of the nearby stairwell. The figure seemed familiar, but she shrugged it off. She went to her room to fetch her purse and change. As she left the hotel in her taxi, she made out a man stepping from behind one of the columns at the hotel entrance. It was Jason.

  Chelsea was of two minds about leaving the hotel. Should she tell Reid about Jason? If she did that, she would have to explain to Reid about leaving the hotel. That wasn’t something she was willing to do given that she didn’t want them knowing what she was up to. She let it drop and concentrated on getting to Colt’s childhood home.

  “Wait for twenty minutes, please,” she told the cab driver as they pulled up at the gate.

  “Okay,” he returned with a smile.

  There was a key over the doorframe. Colt told her that’s where he remembered his mother leaving it since he was a small boy. She paused at the front door and eyed the old truck which now had pieces of rusty metal scattered around it. As she entered the dainty living room, a sense of belonging hit her. She’d spent about a week there, and already she felt like she belonged. Was it because of Colt? Must be. This was where their relationship took a definitive turn.

  She began by searching the living room for any photos of family. There was a wedding photo of a few others of older family it seemed. She assumed the wedding photo to be of Colt’s mother and his stepfather. There was none with his stepsister. Chelsea searched the tiny bedrooms up the stairs and found nothing but a snapshot of two kids about five or six years old. She couldn’t tell whether they were two boys or boy and girl. She stuffed the photo in her purse, locked the house and returned to the waiting cab.