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Damaged But Not Broken

Page 20

by Hearts Collective


  I throw my head back in pleasure, and I look up to the mirrored ceiling of the elevator.

  “Christ,” I breathe, realizing I have my own private show of Paige pleasuring me. And with complete voyeurism satisfaction, I watch Paige give me the blowjob of a lifetime in our halted elevator.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Paige

  Promise of Never

  As I dress for our Chicago tour, I can’t quite believe how I behaved in the elevator earlier today. Something just came over me, and I needed to be in control of the situation, and I needed to do something wild. I could tell Blake was floored, but of course he managed to relax in no time and enjoy himself.

  I smile smugly to myself, as I straighten my silver and blue brocade dress. It’s dressier than a lot of my other tour outfits, but Chicago is one of our biggest cities and I want to look great. The dress was an addition from Jami, and now I’m grateful she lent me the short dress.

  I love its gathered waist, U-shaped neckline and crisscrossed back straps. It's edgy but still classy, and instead of dressing it down just a bit with cowgirl boots, I dress up the look with glittering silver heels adorned with tiny spikes.

  I quickly finish up and hurry to meet the rest of the group in the lobby. I hear Ryan catcall first and I watch Blake slowly turn around. Blake’s jaw drops open and Ben shakes his head in amazement.

  “Holy shit, Paige, you sure know how to knock it out of the park,” Ben admires, his eyes roving appreciatively over my body.

  I blush. “Thanks, Ben. I figure I better look good for Chicago.”

  “You always look good, baby,” Blake murmurs, getting control of his voice again, and slipping his arm around my waist, “but you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

  We were playing in a well-known music club in Chicago, it holds around two thousand people. The last we heard, the show was almost sold out; I found that hard to believe.

  Elvis whisks us into the van and safely delivers us outside the club. The owner hurries out the back door and ushers us inside, talking excitedly about having us perform. He confirms that the show did in fact sell out. Jack comes with us to check the stage and Liam heads to the front of the house.

  When I step onstage to open the show, the crowd erupts in cheers. Thanks to media outlets like YouTube and Twitter a lot of people are already familiar with my songs, and I’m shocked as people sing along to some of my numbers. At first Blake would come out to sing our duet at the end of my act, but after a few successful nights, Liam moved us to close the show together.

  After Rust finishes, I come back onstage and I grin like an idiot when the crowd cheers again for me. Blake and I sing our cover song, and the audience goes wild. People are cheering and screaming our names, and Blake and I look at each other with total shock; this tour was more successful than we ever expected.

  All of us are giddy as we pile into the van, and we decide to celebrate with a night out on the town. The group is happy to have Blake and I join them, and aside from the drama with my father, I realize that I’m happier now in this moment than I’ve ever been.

  As we sit in a plush booth in a low-lit club that’s pumping house music, I look over at Blake as I sip my over-priced strawberry cocktail. It dawns on me that he too is happier than he’s ever been. It took us a long time, and we still had to deal with my dad, but I can’t believe how far we’ve come.

  ~~~

  The high from Chicago lasts for three days as we make our way across the Great Lakes. But all too soon, I’m thinking about my daddy, and the night before we take him to rehab arrives. We play a show in Columbus, Ohio, and then Blake and I hurry to catch a late night flight to Nashville. I was shocked that I was able to find a flight that left just before midnight, and Blake and I were the last two passengers to make it on the plane.

  “Everything will be okay,” Blake assures me as we settle in for our flight to Nashville.

  “I hope so. Even with Daddy going to rehab, I’m not sure if we can ever fix our relationship. It wasn’t even completely fixed before this happened. We were just getting to know each other again!”

  I feel another surge of anger toward my father, and I try to battle the feelings. I don’t want to be angry now. What I need is rest, especially since we have a long day ahead of us. I doze off during the flight, and I start to come to as we make our descent into Nashville.

  I’m quiet all the way to my Daddy’s house, and I’m relieved that Blake is spending the night with me. When we enter the house, all is quiet, and I’m relieved to see that the house is clean and there are no signs of alcohol. Blake and I tiptoe our way back to my part of the house and we barely rinse our faces and brush our teeth before collapsing in bed.

  The alarm clock goes off all too quickly, and jars me from a restless and choppy sleep. The sun is just starting to come up, and I'm reminded as to why I am not a morning person.

  “Anything before seven a.m. is just plain indecent,” I grumble as I fall out of bed. Blake groans in agreement and we stumble about my small suite, getting ready. We make our way to the main kitchen a little before seven, and find my dad sitting glumly at the breakfast counter, surrounded by a few duffel bags.

  “Hi Daddy,” I say quietly, “Did you eat something?”

  “Nah,” he mumbles.

  I shake my head and walk over to the pantry. I take out a bag of bagels.

  “Want one?” I ask Blake.

  He nods. I toast three bagels and set out butter and cream cheese. I pour three glasses of orange juice and we all sit at the counter, eating our breakfast in silence.

  “Alright, we should go,” I finally say, rinsing our dishes out and putting them in the dishwasher. Blake grabs the bag that he and I are sharing, as well as one of my Dad’s bags. My dad grabs his other two bags and we make our way to my car, which has the most room.

  Blake tosses the bags in the back, and then climbs in the back seat. I get behind the wheel and my dad climbs reluctantly into the passenger seat. I try to talk to my dad during the four-hour drive, but I only get one-word answers out of him. I’m not sure if he’s uncomfortable because Blake is with us, or if he’s just angry that I’m making him do this.

  After over two hours of silence, I can’t take it anymore.

  “Daddy, I’m sorry,” I finally say, breaking down. “But don’t blame me for this.”

  My dad sadly shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize for this, Paige. And I don’t blame you. If I hadn’t been so weak, I wouldn’t have to spend a month in rehab. And if this is what it takes to repair things between us, then I’ll just have to do it.”

  There is so much more I want to say, but I just can’t bring myself to say it. The miles stretch on and we become ever closer to the facility. I feel the seconds ticking away but I don’t speak and my dad doesn’t say anything either. Even though he claims he doesn’t blame me, I don’t quite believe him.

  I can’t slow down the clock and before I know it, we’ve arrived. Blake jumps out before my dad and I, and he quickly grabs my dad’s bags and sets them on the ground. My dad can barely look at Blake.

  “Thanks Blake,” he mumbles.

  Blake holds his hand out and my dad shakes it, finally looking him in the eye.

  “Good luck,” Blake says.

  My dad moves to gather his bags, and Blake pulls me around to the opposite side of the car. He pulls me into a tight hug. It’s such a relief to have him with me, and I lean into his embrace, inhaling deeply as I smell his familiar scent.

  “I’m so glad you’re here with me,” I say, my voice cracking.

  “It will all work out somehow. Take as much time as you need. I’ll be hanging out here.”

  I nod, too emotional to speak, and I kiss Blake hard on the mouth, needing to feel more connected to him. Blake responds, kissing me back, our tongues hungrily moving in tandem together.

  I force myself to break away, and I walk over to my dad. He gives me a curt nod and we head up the tree-lined path towards the fa
cility. Ironically, the rehab looks more like an exclusive boutique hotel than a place for addicts.

  “I just want you to walk me to the door,” my dad says suddenly, once we’re about twenty yards away from the building.

  “But Daddy,” I object, “I want to hear what they have to say!”

  “Paige, I’m already ashamed enough. I don’t need you getting me situated like you’re my Momma. I’ve agreed to do this for thirty days, and I’ll stay for the full amount of time. There’s nothing that they’re going to tell me that I can’t handle.”

  We’re closer to the building, and I notice there’s a wide wrap-around verandah, lined with white wicker rocking chairs. It looks so inviting; it’s such a tease.

  “Daddy, I just don’t understand,” I choke out, my eyes overflowing with tears. My dad finally softens, and he drops his bags on the porch.

  “Oh, Paige,” he replies, leading me into a wicker chair. The waterworks have opened up, and now I can’t stop the tears as they flow down my cheeks.

  I sink into a chair and my father wearily drops into the chair next to me.

  “I just don’t get it, Daddy. I just moved back to Nashville – I’m living in the same house as you, for crying out loud! And to be perfectly honest, I had no intentions of ever really trying to pursue a relationship with you after what had happened when I was fifteen.” I sob again, trying to gather myself while I let my emotions out. “But you convinced me to give us a second shot, and I agreed. You were so remorseful and you wanted to help my career. And even though things weren’t perfect, I felt like we were really making progress!”

  I stop so I can catch my breath and calm down.

  “Paige, I’m human.” My dad sighs. “I’m far from perfect. I fuck up. A lot. And this is one of those times. But I’ve tried to be a father to you, and I think for most of your childhood, I did a pretty okay job.”

  My dad had been a good father to me, but of course his drinking problem had always been there.

  “Well, yeah, aside from the drinking,” I can’t help but say sarcastically.

  My dad winces. “I know what the drinking cost you. It cost you certain childhood memories-’’

  I cut him off, jumping up angrily.

  “Childhood memories?” I cry out. “You think all your drinking cost me was some childhood memories?”

  My dad’s face twists in pain. “Paige, you didn’t let me finish!”

  “You cost me my entire adolescence! Your drinking literally cost me my life! If it hadn’t been for Blake, I would still just be the empty shell that I had been since I was fifteen years old! Do you have any idea what Billy and Riff took from me? They took my innocence! They took my security! They took every good thing I had yet to experience!” I’m on a roll now, pacing back and forth and yelling as my hair whips behind me.

  “I lost my friends in Nashville! I lost my friends in Bristol! I couldn’t have a normal relationship with a man! I lived in constant fear! I had to put five locks on my front door so I could sleep at night! Your drinking cost me everything!”

  My dad is crying now, and I almost feel bad. I drop into my chair and choke back another sob.

  “I’m sorry, Paige. I’m sorry. I thought you knew how sorry I am. How guilty I’ve always felt.”

  And I do know that. If my dad made one thing clear to me over the years, it was that he would do anything to take back that awful night.

  “I do know that, Daddy,” I concede. “I just don’t know if you know how bad it actually was for me. Momma was the one who saw what I really went through.”

  “I wanted to be there for you,” he says hoarsely.

  “I know.”

  “We can’t change the past, Paige. But you have to accept me for who I am. Otherwise, we can’t move forward.”

  And in a moment of clarity, I know my father is right. I need to accept him for the man he is; mistakes and all. But can I do that?

  I’m quiet for a long time as I think over what my father has actually said.

  “Can you do that, Paige? Can you accept me as I am? I’m trying – I really am. I got my shit together before I came to you. I knew I couldn’t ask you back into my life without first being clean and sober, and I had been a bum. I told you – I lost it all – my work, my house, my car. But bit-by-bit, I put it all back together. And yes, I fell off the wagon, but thanks to your love and concern for me, you’ve helped me this time before it was too late.

  I know you can only do so much, and now I need to do the rest.” He takes a deep breath, and stares down at his hands. “I think I let my guard down. I had you back, and everything was going so well. I thought I could handle the tour, but I was wrong. I can’t ever let my guard down.”

  I listen to everything my daddy says, and even through my hurt, anger and betrayal, I’m proud of him in a weird, twisted kind of way.

  “Alright, Daddy, let’s do this,” I say, rising to my feet and picking up one of his bags. He looks up at me with confusion.

  “Let’s make you better. I’m hurt and upset, but I want you in my life. I understand who you are, and I’m going to work through my own issues.”

  “Really?” he asks, surprise coloring his voice.

  I feel a pang of guilt; I must have truly made my father believe that I didn’t want anything to do with him.

  “Yes, Daddy. Come on. Let’s get you inside and get you better.”

  My dad pulls me into a strong hug, and even though it’s awkward at first, I eventually relax and hug him back.

  “I love you, Paige.”

  “I love you too, Daddy.”

  It’s not even noon, and I’m already emotionally exhausted. We walk to the entrance, and my dad stops and gives me a weak grin.

  “Well, this is me,” he teases, pointing to the door as if I’ve walked him home.

  I giggle; somewhat manically, and then get serious.

  “Don’t worry about a thing." I assure him. "Becky has everything handled at the office, and I’ll be checking in at home.”

  “I know. I trust you.”

  I give my father another hug and then he pulls away.

  “Go on,” he urges, motioning back down the steps. “Get on back to that man of yours. Make sure you tell him thank you for saving my baby girl. He did what I couldn’t do for you.” He sighs and shakes his head, and I notice he looks older than his years.

  My eyes well up again at Daddy’s recognition of the way Blake has saved me. And it’s true, because Blake has given me my life back. I can see a future now that I never could have imagined before Blake came back into my life. Of course, it’s way too early to discuss those things with Blake, but I could really see myself married to him and having a family of our own.

  A family.

  Something I never dreamed possible after my attack.

  I blow Daddy a kiss and slowly descend the steps. He watches me go down and then I turn back around to look at him again. He gives a little wave, opens the door and disappears.

  I don’t why, or maybe I do, but once my daddy walks through that solid oak door, my shoulders cave in and I start to sob. I blindly make my way back along the idyllic path, and before I know it, Blake is scooping me up into his arms and carrying me the rest of the way. I don’t know how he knew, but he somehow sensed I needed him.

  “Shh.” He murmurs, brushing at my hair. “You need to rest, Paige. Everything is going to be okay. I promise, baby, everything will work out.”

  He gingerly lays me in the back seat, and I curl up on the cool leather. The car purrs to life as Blake pulls out of the parking lot, and the last thing I recall before falling asleep is turning onto the main road.

  EPILOGUE

  Paige

  Three Weeks Later

  “Dogs are ready!” Blake calls, and I hurry back out with our drinks and salad.

  “Mmmm, smells great.” I say, swatting at his backside as I finish setting the table.

  “Damn, baby. Are you going to eat in your bikini?”
/>   I give Blake a little shrug and a coy smile. “Why not? No one else is here.” I settle down into my chair, adjusting the straps of my ruffled bikini.

  “Oh, I’m not complaining.” He assures me, setting down the plate of hot dogs.

  We dig in, fixing up our hot dogs and enjoying the beautiful weather.

  Our tour wrapped up a little over a week ago, and we came home to a much-needed break. Our tour had been extremely successful, more successful than my dad or any of us had ever imagined. We sold all of our CDs, and both Rust and myself were set to cut our first albums in the coming months.

  There was actually a pretty big demand for us to do another tour, but my dad’s people thought it was best to put out a record first. They would leave the final decision up to my father when he returned to work next week.

  It was hard to believe that my father had already spent three weeks in rehab. Of course, I hadn’t heard from him, but I had high hopes for when he returned. I was surprising him with an update to his “man cave” as I liked to call it. I'd bought him a huge 152-inch TV, the biggest on the market and it came with 3D capability. Blake was practically salivating to watch a game on it, but we still had to wait two more days to have it installed.

  My mind comes back to the present as I watch Blake devour his hot dog. Since we’ve been home from our tour, Blake has practically been living with me at my dad’s house. I know Blake has his own house, but right now my Daddy’s house is big and empty and I like the company.

  Plus, we have all the great perks and amenities here, like the pool and patio. In fact, we’ve been so lazy that we’ve basically spent our days lounging around the pool, napping and making love. I can’t ever remember being so unproductive before, and it’s wonderful.

  “So how do you think things will go next week when your dad comes home?” Blake asks, preparing himself a second hot dog.

  That’s a loaded question. I can’t tell if he means how things will go between my daddy and I, or what will happen to our current living arrangement once my dad returns.

 

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