by MJ Carnal
“I hear their manager is hot too. I’ve never seen him but he must be. He’s making bank working with them. My friend, Jenny, went to one of their concerts and got to go backstage and meet them. She said the manager is better looking than all of them. I can’t imagine that. He’d have to be an Adonis or something. Right?”
Is she seriously still talking? I roll my eyes at the cashier. Clearly ratchet jaw behind me doesn’t know what kind of week I’ve had. I see her pick up the tabloid and I consider just leaving my groceries and walking out.
“Liquid Regret drummer caught entering the Omni Parker House with the third mystery woman in as many days. Sources close to the band report friction among the band members as rumors of drugs and alcohol surface after their sold out show in Boston.” She clicks her acrylic nails against her cart. “Callum Maxwell, known to the world as Max Callum, remains silent as widespread speculation that he plans to quit the band takes center stage. Katrina King, reporter for LA Daily, has followed the band closely since the news broke about his true identity. She confirms tension on and off stage as his future with the band is questioned.”
“I’m sorry.” I hold up my hand and for the first time, she’s silent. “Can you just stop? If I wanted to read it, I would have. It’s a tabloid. I don’t give any credit to gossip and I don’t want to hear anymore.”
“You’re right. Half this stuff isn’t true. But I’m sure things are crazy with all of them right now. Especially with Harley getting out of rehab for drinking. Poor guy. What if he’s drinking again? The band will fall apart. It just will. How awful.”
“Ok Venus, shut your trap. I’ve tried to be nice but now you’re just pissing me off. At any point in your life, are you quiet? Enough already. Nobody cares.” I grab my change from the cashier and glare at her. “Those men, they’re human. They screw up just like the rest of us. Their lives are just televised for the world to judge. It’s obvious that Max is going through some sort of crisis. Doesn’t he deserve to work it out without us analyzing every move he makes? Life is hard enough without cameras following you around everywhere waiting for you to make a mistake.”
I don’t even let her respond. I grab the bags from the counter and leave the cart right where it is. I need to leave. My eyes burn as the words in the article echo in my head. I know there’s always more to a story. It’s my job to know that. But I can’t help but picture him with the brunette in the picture, kissing her the way he kissed me, loving her body the way he loved mine.
I know I need to make things right so my heart can start to heal. I will call him. Just as soon as I finish my ice cream.
“What’s up, Doc?” Chance laughs at himself and I can’t help but smile. It’s good to hear his voice.
“Hey, Chance. I just wanted to check in with you guys and make sure you were alright. I tried Max but his phone went right to voicemail and honestly, I don’t want to talk to Harley right now.”
There’s just a beat of silence before he answers. “We’re all alright. I know that night was pretty intense. I wish you hadn’t left the way you did. I get it, though. I’m the king of running away from shit.”
“I’m sorry I left that way, too. I shouldn’t have. It was childish and I regret it.”
“No regrets, Doc. You can’t live that way. A very hot therapist told me that once. It stuck.” He sighs. “I’m sorry about Max. I know you really liked him. He’s pretty fucked up and none of us really knows how to help so we don’t say anything. The tour bus is pretty tense.”
“I’m worried about him, Chance. He puts on a brave face for the world but what we saw was someone screaming for help. Promise me that you’ll call me if you think of anything I can do.”
“We’re back in LA next week. Maybe being home will help. I don’t know, Rach. He’s not Max right now. He’s totally fucked up. He’s drinking, he’s got women all over him, he’s front and center in all the newspapers. Shit, he’s turning into me.”
“You’re a good guy, Chance. Give yourself some credit.”
“You sweet on me, Doc?”
“Good-night, Lennon.” I laugh as I hang up the phone. I’ve missed them and I need to make sure they all know I’m here. I made one big mistake already. I refuse to make another one. I’ll call them all to check in. They’ve become like family and I refuse to push them away again.
Chapter 16
I drop my bag in the foyer and head straight for my bedroom. It’s good to be home. I’m exhausted. I’m moody. I’m hungry. I’m missing Rachel so much it hurts to breathe. I’ve become a woman, all emotional and sensitive. I’m going to have to start wearing skirts if I keep this shit up. I’m about to lose my man card and I would not make a good looking chick.
I collapse onto my bed and hit play on my voicemail. Her voice calms my nerves. I haven’t called her back. What the fuck would I say? Oh hey, Rachel. I know it looks like I fucked half the East Coast but it’s not what it looks like. Yeah, that shit won’t fly.
I fucked up. Plain and simple. I had the woman of my dreams within reach and I let my father ruin me. Again! That piece of shit has radar. The second I get just a sliver of happiness, some ghost from my past shows up just in time to remind me I don’t deserve it. Well, karma is a bitch. Wonder how dear ole dad is coping with his fuck up of a son now. He started this game and I refuse to lose. Alcoholic, man slut Max is pretty hard to ignore.
I press play on my next message and listen to Joshua drone on about a mandatory press conference in the morning. Fabulous. Thanks for the day off, jackass.
I play the message from Rachel one more time before drifting off to sleep. It’s nice to be home.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we called this press conference today to discuss some of the events that have come to light over the past few weeks. As always, these men are my priority and at any point if I feel like this conference is getting out of hand, I will end it.” Joshua looks right at me before continuing. “I will open the floor to questions as soon as Damien is finished discussing what is next for the band.”
I know I look like a douche bag. I’m sitting up here in sunglasses, my posture defeated. I look hungover, exactly the look I was going for. I’m being a complete toddler but I don’t know how to turn off my anger for my father. I’ve always been a get even kind of guy. I’ve promised myself that the second this starts impacting the band, I will walk away. For now, Joshua is enjoying the press coverage. Bad press is still press.
“And exactly how much money did you get to keep Max’s true identity out of the press?” I’m shocked back to reality when I hear some of the questions being tossed at my family.
“Had we received any money at all, that amount would not be something relevant to anything being discussed here today. I can absolutely guarantee that no money was exchanged for secrecy. That decision was a personal one and is not anyone’s business.” Joshua’s face is getting red.
“Max, Katrina King from LA Daily. Can you tell us about the women we’ve seen you with? You seem to have had a lot of company the past few weeks.”
I take my time leaning forward to speak into the microphone. Let them wait it out. All eyes are on me. I lean my weight against the table and clear my throat. My mouth goes to the microphone, just a little too close. The guys are all looking at me like I’m crazy. Newsflash. I am.
“No Comment.” I lean back in my chair just as slowly. I have to fight the urge not to smile. I’m an asshole and I’m earning that title today.
“Dude.” Chance whispers to me. “Did you even take a shower today?”
I smile and tilt my head away from the cameras. I think that deep down, Lennon understands why I’m doing this. Hell, I went to him for advice and I brought all those women back to the hotel for him. We’ll just leave that little tidbit out of the tabloids for now.
“So you’re saying that none of the things Senator Maxwell said were true? He didn’t fund the band? He’s always been a very reputable man.”
I may hunt down this Katrina bi
tch. These questions have nothing to do with our next album or the completion of our tour.
“Listen, babe. We’ve lived in neighborhoods you don’t even know exist. We’ve lived in places where we had to fight the cockroaches for space on the floor so we could sleep. We’ve hustled pool, we’ve won instruments in poker games. I’m pretty sure we’ve had weeks at a time when we didn’t have a hot meal. If that is what you want to call funding his son’s dream, then I suppose he did.” Chance’s voice is quiet but I know he wants to yell.
“While he sat in his warm house with power and running water, we were performing on the streets and working odd jobs to make ends meet. Reputable or not, that’s our reality.” Harley tries to take control of the press conference. “We’d love to talk to you about our next album, which is being funded by our label, if that’s a fact you need.”
“What are your thoughts on your dad running for vice president?” A voice in the back yells out.
“Why did you leave home if you had it so good? Why not wait until you were more stable?” The blond Chance had been eyeing fires at me.
“Why would you change your name in the first place? Why not let his notoriety take you places?” Another voice from the back.
“You mean why didn’t I ride his coattails? There’s no integrity in that. If you believe in your talent, you don’t need someone else to make you famous.” My throat is tight and my hands are balled into fists.
Joshua notices and stands up. “I’d like to wrap this up. The guys have been out on the road for a few weeks and they deserve a little time with their families. We’ll take one more question.”
Katrina stands up with her damn recorder and aims it at me again. I see red. I’ve had enough. “Do you think your actions or lifestyle will have a negative impact on his run for the vice presidency?”
I’m on my feet before I know it. I try to catch my breath and control my anger but it’s too late. I know as soon as I stand up that there’s no turning back. I’m going to implode if I don’t let this all go.
I lean forward, getting my face right in front of the microphone so there’s no questioning what I’m about to say. It’s me or him. It’s now or never. I can let him ruin me for the rest of my life or I can decide to let it go.
“Katrina is it?” She nods her head. “No. I don’t believe my lifestyle will impact dear ole dad in any way.”
“Max.” Harley warns but I wave him off.
“Want to know what I think might impact his road to The White House? Maybe the fact that his wife allowed random men to come over and rape me. Perhaps it was the fact that they would drug me, shoot me up with God knows what until I passed out and abuse me in ways no child should ever know. Over and over and over again. Maybe what will impact his dream is that he knew about it and allowed it to keep happening. Or that he gave me money every month to keep it quiet. Hush money that mostly went to charities for other families of abuse. Ironic, isn’t it?”
I can feel the tears of rage falling down my face and it just makes me angrier. I’m so worked up that when I lean in to talk again, I’m spitting out my words. “Maybe it will be that I ran away and they continued this with my baby sister. Or better yet, that his staff was also aware of it because all my hush money came from his attorney.”
“Max.” Harley is pulling at my arm to get me off the stage but I’m not done. I pull away and look right into Katrina’s eyes.
“So, to answer your question, no, Ms. King, I don’t think my lifestyle will be what keeps that piece of trash out of office. I think it will be karma that does that.”
As I storm off stage, the rest of the guys on my heels, I realize that my life may have just ended but I’ve never felt this free. If I lose these men, this family, I know I can walk away with all my cards out on the table.
Chapter 17
“So, to answer your question, no, Ms. King, I don’t think my lifestyle will be what keeps that piece of trash out of office. I think it will be karma that does that.”
I sit in the back row with my jaw on the floor. There’s so much commotion when they leave the room as questions are yelled until the second the door closes behind them. I want to run backstage but I can’t get my legs to move.
They abused him. They raped him. He was a child and they hurt him. Every single minute of the time I’ve known Max makes perfect sense now. His overly generous spirit to make up for the pain he carries in his heart. The master of interrogation who changes the subject to you if you ask about him. His nightmares when he relives that torture every night. His fear of needles. His hatred for his father. His overprotectiveness of his sister. His panic the night his bodyguard held him pinned to the ground. The hatred in Harley’s eyes when I shot the sedative into his vein. The complete betrayal he must have felt when I abandoned him that night.
“Oh my God.” My voice shakes and I wipe the tears from my face. I will myself to get up and take a step. They don’t know I’m here and I’m not even sure I can get back stage. I will burn this place down if I have to. I don’t care what it takes. That’s the man I adore and I refuse to let him think I’ve abandoned him any longer.
When I hit the stage doors, I see one of the label execs and he waves me by. I smile and thank him as I run toward the room where the yelling is coming from.
I slam into the room and everyone shuts up. All eyes are on me, most of them look angry. “That son of a bitch. I will fucking kill that worthless piece of shit. He better pray I never get him in a room alone because only one of us will be coming out. That son of a bitch.”
Harley starts laughing and it’s not long before Chance joins him. Damien turns his head and tries to control his laughter. Max just stares at me wide eyed.
“What? Why the hell are you laughing?” I’m pissed and these assholes are laughing? When Harley starts to speak, I shut him down. “Don’t you even talk to me. Not you. Not after all the things you said to me. Screw you, Miles.”
This just makes Chance laugh harder. He stands up and pulls me into a hug. “Oh, Doc. I thought you weren’t ever supposed to get emotional or take a side. The fact that you said son of a bitch twice just now makes me think maybe you aren’t here to be our shrink.”
“You’re a son of a bitch too.” I shove him away. I need to get to Max.
When I turn around, he’s standing right behind me. He’s eyes are glassy and red but those beautiful blues will always make my heart jump. He’s looking down at me and in this moment, he looks like a lost little boy.
“Rachel.” He pulls me into him and sobs.
There are so many moments that define a relationship. The first time you meet, the first date, the first kiss. Not for us. We met under the worst of circumstances. Baring his soul to me about Della, about his concern for Harley, about the pain of his loss and even then, he was special. Our first kiss was magical and full of angst and cut short because of the role I played in his life at the time. We didn’t get a first date. But this, right here in the midst of so much heartbreak, defines us. He may be broken but we all are. This man, all six plus feet of him, is pouring years of pain out of his heart and I am in the one he is sharing this moment with. We need each other for so many reasons. That is the definition of Max and Rachel. I won’t leave his side again. I don’t care about his past. I don’t care about his future. I care about the man right in front of me, hurting and finally free of the secrets of his past. That man is the man I have fallen in love with.
I rub his back and let him collapse into me. I don’t say anything. I don’t think I need to. He pulls me even closer and I sigh. When that’s not close enough for him, he lifts me into a hug and I wrap my legs around his waist.
I hear the door click and know the room is empty without looking. “I’m so sorry about what I did. Please forgive me.”
He pulls back and looks at me. His eyes are swollen, his emotions are raw, and he’s more beautiful than I’ve ever seen him. “Forgive you? Rach. Forgive me. I ignored your message. I’ve been a complete
asshole.”
He looks away and I instantly miss his stare. “Look at me.” When he does, I smile. “I never should have given you the medicine, even if you had asked for it. I was so worried about you. I was so afraid you’d hurt yourself. I had no idea.”
“No one did.” He walks to the couch without letting go of me. “I’ve never told anyone the complete story. And I don’t want to talk about it right now. I just want to hold you.”
“I want that too.” I snuggle into his neck and feel him take a deep breath. “I don’t ever want to let go.”
“Then don’t.” He kisses the top of my head. “Don’t you dare let go of me, Rachel. I need you and I’m too stubborn to come after you so hang on tight.”
“I promise.”
He tilts my head up to look at him. “I’m serious. Please don’t give up on me. I’m all kinds of fucked up. And maybe I don’t deserve you but I need you.”
“You aren’t fucked up, Max. As far as I’m concerned, you’re perfect.”
“Far from it.” He chuckles.
“You are to me. You’re everything.”
“I’m nothing.” He drops his eyes.
“I am here, whenever you want to talk. Not as your therapist. Not as your friend. As Rachel. As someone who thinks you are amazing and won’t judge anything you say or feel.”
His lips find mine, soft and loving. The kiss is gentle and short but it’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. There’s promise in this kiss and it’s full of emotion. It’s not a kiss full of lust. It’s love in its most raw form.
“I need to talk to all the guys. The press is going to be all over us the second we walk out of here. Will you stay?”
I nod my head. Of course I’ll stay. I’d stay forever if he asked me to.