“Fine, fine,” he said, his tone placating, “but why tell me about it? Unless you think I’m going to be her daddy or something,” he said, sounding repulsed by the idea.
“She has a father, Max, and a very good one at that,” Allexxiss said, her voice still angry.
“So why tell me then?” he asked, sounding annoyed that she’d wasted his time.
“Well,” she said, annoyed that she’d wasted her time, “I figured since her father is extremely famous, and I’m famous, it might become an issue.”
“Who’s her father?” Max asked, his tone perking up now.
“BJ Sparks,” she answered, feeling slightly triumphant for some reason.
“The rocker guy?” Max asked.
“Yes,” Allex said, trying to keep from rolling her eyes, “the rocker guy.”
“You dated a loser like that?” Max asked then, his tone derogatory.
“I actually married the loser, Max,” she said, wanting to shock him.
It worked. His mouth dropped open as his eyes practically bugged out of his head. “You married him?” he asked, sounding as if she’d just told him she’d committed murder.
“Yes.”
“So there’s a public record of this?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus, Allexxiss!” he said, making her sound like she’d lost her mind. “Why the hell did you marry him? He had nothing, what difference did it make? Okay so you screwed him, why marry him too?” he asked angrily.
“Maybe because I was in love with him,” Allexxiss answered just as angrily.
“You were in love with a bum.”
“I was in love with a man, Maxwell,” she said condescending.
He rolled his eyes. Allex clenched her hands in fists under the covers. She should have known better than to bother with this. And she definitely knew better than to address the idea of being in love with someone with him. To Max, being in love was a matter of business, not a matter of the heart. You would love anyone you needed to be in business with.
“Fine, so you’re saying that this BJ Sparks could be a problem for us?” Max asked wanting to cut through everything to the point.
“No,” she said, sighing and wishing she could just stop this conversation now. “I’m just saying that if the papers get ahold of the fact that Tabitha is my daughter, they might find out that BJ and I were married. I just wanted to tell you all this before you read it in the paper, okay?”
“Fine.” He shrugged, not too concerned about the whole thing.
What did he care that his wife had some kid by a guy who was ‘a nobody’ way back when? Sure, it might be a problem if the guy wanted something from them, or if the kid did, but they didn’t, so who cared? If nothing else, it would be more free publicity for the studio if Allex’s name was all over the papers again.
Later that night he crawled into bed and said, “Oh, by the way, I’m going to New York next week.”
“When?”
“I’m leaving next Sunday.”
“Okay,” she said turning her back to him.
They lived almost totally separate lives. He would inform her he was going out of town, she’d say okay. She never cared where he was, as long as it didn’t involve her having to go with him. He never took her with him on trips anymore, she suspected because Missy was filling her shoes in that arena, and she never asked to go either. It had been over four years since she’d been back to New York, and she didn’t miss it one bit.
****
During the week following Tabitha’s conversation with Jordan, everyone was surprised to note that Devlin McGregor seemed to have disappeared. Over the course of that week, Brenden became increasingly furious with the guitarist. They were attempting to wrap up work on the album, and trying to finish some songs that still needed Devlin’s input. Devlin hadn’t called in, and he was unreachable by cell phone or land line. He was just gone.
Devlin was indeed hiding out from life. He’d flown home to Chicago, and had gone straight to his ex-girlfriend’s house. Kim was one of the women in a man’s life that never let him go totally. She’d been his girlfriend throughout school, and she’d been the one he’d left when he took off for Los Angeles to become a rock star. After becoming a rock star at twenty, he’d gone back to Chicago a few times just to be with her. It was a destructive, obsessive, physical relationship. She was into more drugs than one person should ever even know about. She fed any addiction a man could have. Devlin had a few, and she gave him whatever he wanted.
He spent hours in her bed, taking out every aggression and angry self-hating thought he had on her body. She enjoyed every minute of it, begging him for more. He hated himself more for doing it, and found solace in a bottle of gin and a haze of pot smoke. When he was good and sedated, she came at him again, obliging him in ways that most hookers wouldn’t even try. He knew he was sinking deeper into a mire from which he might never escape, but part of him didn’t care, didn’t want to care.
After five days, he dragged himself out of his stupor, knowing that if he didn’t go back to LA soon, he wouldn’t have a career to go back to.
Tabitha was in the sound booth, when Devlin walked into the studio. To Devlin’s credit, he was able to act quite well like nothing had changed. He walked in, and went about tuning his guitar and plugging in, while Brenden stood by gaping at him like he was a mad man.
Devlin straightened from having plugged in his amp, catching Brenden’s openmouthed stare. He met Brenden’s stare with a blue-eyed gaze of ice.
“Nice of you to join us, Mr. McGregor,” Brenden said, his voice barely containing his rage.
Tabitha heard it, and moved toward the door to the sound booth.
“Don’t do it,” Bobby warned her, “they need to do this alone.”
Tabitha stopped, turning to lean against the door, watching the scene play out before her.
“Glad to be here,” Devlin replied to Brenden, keeping his voice cool.
“Would it have fucking killed you to at least let me know when you were coming back?” Brenden asked, letting his fury go just a little bit.
“Last time I checked, you’re not my mother,” Devlin replied calmly.
Brenden’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “No, I’m your fucking boss,” he growled.
“No,” Devlin said, his tone a growl as well, “you’re the lead singer of the band I’m in.”
“For now,” Brenden spat.
“You firing me?”
“I should.”
“Fucking try it, Beege, see how far you get.”
“You don’t think I can?” Brenden asked, raising an auburn eyebrow.
“I think I’ve fucking pulled your ass through a lot of shit over the years. Times when you were snorting, smoking, and shooting any fucking drug you could get your hands on and times when you were fucking anything in Los Angeles that moved. And then pulling your ass through a near-fatal car accident where you were so fucking amped on ludes you didn’t even feel your fucking chest being sliced open by a goddamned yield sign. So don’t fucking get preachy with me, Brenden, unless you’d like me to lay out all your little and not so fucking little sins in a nice row for all the fucking world to see.” Devlin’s tone was so low, and so dangerous sounding that Tabitha was shaking just from the intensity of it.
Brenden looked back at the man he’d known for fifteen years, barely recognizing him. Finally, he shook his head slowly, set down the headphones he’d been set to put on when Devlin had walked in, and walked past Devlin and out of the room. Tabitha watched her father go, then looked back at Devlin. He was looking down at his hands that were resting on his guitar. As she watched, he lifted his hands off the guitar and she saw that they shook like leaves in a stiff wind. He was high, she knew it, she’d seen her father high often enough. She was stunned. She didn’t think Devlin did drugs.
To her surprise, his head came up and he looked right at her through the glass of the studio booth. He stared at her for a long moment then, shaking his
head, he lowered his eyes again. He threw his guitar aside, the feedback screeching as he did. He turned and walked out. Tabitha had no idea what to do. She was shaking from head to toe. She looked over at Bobby, and even he looked stunned.
By the time she made it out to the parking lot, both men’s cars were gone, and she could still hear squealing tires down on the lower levels. She was betting that was Devlin’s Mercedes barreling down the garage levels. She worried, if he was high, should he be driving?
She hurried to the elevators and got to her office. She sat down at her desk, picked up the phone, and dialed Devlin’s cell phone number. She waited, praying he’d pick up. He didn’t. She left him a message begging him to be careful. Next, she dialed her father’s cell phone. Brenden picked up on the second ring.
“Yeah?” he asked still sounding extremely irritated.
She could hear his music blasting in the background. He’d driven his Lamborghini that day, and she knew how fast he drove it, especially when he was mad.
“Daddy?”
She heard him put his phone on his shoulder, and knew he was reaching to turn down his music.
“What is it, baby?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, blowing his breath out in a rush, “I just needed to get out of there.”
“I know.”
“Are you okay?” Brenden asked, knowing that the scene she’d just witnessed between Devlin and him had probably scared her.
It had scared him.
She hesitated. “Yeah, I’m just worried, Daddy, he didn’t seem like himself.”
Brenden narrowed his eyes, hating that his daughter had to witness what had happened, but knowing that she was old enough now to handle things like this. If she wanted to work in this business she’d likely see a lot of it.
“He was high, Tab, that alters people’s personality dramatically sometimes.”
“I know he was high, Daddy. His hands were shaking badly after you left.”
“Is he still there?”
“No,” she said, “he left right after you did. I think he trashed his Les Paul though.”
“He’s driving?” Brenden asked, instantly worried.
“Yeah,” Tabitha said, grimacing. “I tried to call him on his cell, but his voicemail picked up.”
“Shit,” Brenden said, but then shrugged. There wasn’t anything they could do. “He trashed his classic?”
“Yeah, threw it aside like a toy.”
Devlin’s Les Paul Classic was almost a five thousand dollar guitar. It was one of his favorites. That had been one of the most shocking things he’d done that morning. Usually he spent more time with his guitars than he did women. He said they were more reliable than women were. For him to throw one aside so violently meant he wasn’t himself at all.
Brenden sighed on his end. “I’m gonna drive this off. Have Bobby check out the Les Paul. Dev’ll be pissed as hell at himself if he ruined one of his girls.”
“Okay.”
“Tabbie?”
“Yes?”
“It’ll be okay, baby,” he said, trying to assure her.
“I’m scared, Dad.”
“I know, honey, but it’ll be okay, I promise.”
“Okay,” she said softly, feeling tears start.
“I’ll be back soon.”
“Be careful, please,” she said, making sure to keep the tears out of her voice.
“I will, baby. I will.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Tabitha.”
They hung up, and Tabitha allowed herself to cry, putting her head down on her desk as she let her tears flow.
She was still crying when Jordan walked into Brenden’s outer office. She’d heard what had happened between BJ and Devlin. Bobby had told her that Tabitha was very upset.
Tabitha looked up at Jordan, tears still sliding down her cheeks. Jordan walked over and leaned in to hug Tabitha. She’d never seen the girl so devastated before. Jordan asked her to tell her what exactly had happened, she did.
“So you’re pretty sure he was high, then?” Jordan asked.
“Oh he was. I know he was, Jordan.”
“If he’s screwing his life up right now, he’s bound to be very defensive.”
“I’ve never seen him go after my father like that, even when they have fought the worst,” she said, shaking her head. “He was vicious, reminding my father of all his mistakes. Devlin’s never been like that.”
“He figures your father has no room to judge him,” Jordan pointed out.
She sighed deeply, nodding. “I know, but God, I’ve never seen him like that.”
Jordan nodded, knowing that between Devlin and Brenden, they’d kept a lot from Tabitha over the years.
Tabitha’s phone rang and she picked it up.
“Yes?” she said into the phone, her voice tremulous.
She listened for a few moments, then breathed a huge sigh of relief.
“Thank you,” she said, hanging up the phone.
“What?” Jordan asked, moving to stand up.
“That was Dad’s security team. They just tracked Devlin to his house, he’s home safe.”
“Good,” Jordan said. She knew that losing Devlin for Tabitha would be tantamount to losing a big brother, or even another father figure.
****
As he pulled into his driveway in Malibu, Devlin knew he’d just gone way over the line in the studio with Brenden. He knew that he’d shocked the hell out of his friend. He also knew that Tabitha had been there to witness his demise as the good decent guy he’d always been. It was one more nail in a long line. It made him feel sick to realize that he’d wanted to hurt them both. Inside he was hurting so much that he wanted to lash out and make someone else feel the pain he was feeling. Hoping to deflect some of the pain he was in, he wanted to see someone else hurt.
In the studio when he’d looked up to see Tabitha staring at him so shocked, he’d seen such devastation in her eyes, and it had hurt him physically. Knowing he was tearing apart the best thing in his life had made him throw the guitar. Yes, he realized he’d just trashed a classic, but he didn’t care, nothing mattered.
He got out of the car and strode into the house, opening the front door and slamming it shut behind him. He grabbed a bottle of gin from his bar and proceeded to drink half its contents in one long gulp. He walked through his house, a house Tabitha had been in hundreds of times in the years he’d known her. Hell, she’d been in his bed a number of times.
Of course, any time she’d been in his bed when he was in it, he’d been fully dressed, or at least wearing sweats and a T-shirt, and she’d been a small girl having crawled into bed with him in the middle of the night. Once, she’d actually nudged a girl out of the way to crawl in beside him. He’d jumped out of bed quickly to throw on sweatpants. Then got back into bed and let her snuggle up next to him to go back to sleep. It had been interesting trying to explain to his girlfriend at the time who this young waif-like creature was, crawling into his bed in the middle of the night. After that, he’d made a point not to have women over when Tabitha was in his home.
All the thoughts swirled around in his head as he waited for the gin to take effect. It didn’t start fast enough, so he took the bottle into his bathroom. He pulled out the bottle of pharmaceutical heroine from his medicine cabinet. He washed a tablet down with the rest of the gin. He walked out onto his balcony leading from his room and looked out over the ocean down below. As he looked down at the rocks, he thought about how painful it would be to land down there if he jumped from the balcony.
Nice morbid thoughts there, Devlin, he thought to himself.
No, killing himself wasn’t an option, he had to stay. He wasn’t sure why, but he needed to. Then it hit him. He’d always had to stay here because of her. He couldn’t leave Tabitha behind, because if Brenden did, she’d be alone. He’d promised her he’d always be there for her. Always.
“Always is a fucking lon
g time,” he growled out loud to no one.
He slept the rest of the day away.
****
Two days after Max left for New York, Allexxiss was relaxing in her bathtub. It had been a long strenuous day. Filming was winding down, but she still had a few scenes she wanted done better. Lately she hadn’t been able to concentrate. It irritated her to realize this inability to concentrate had started when Brenden James O’Malley had seeped back into her life. She wanted to tell herself Brenden wasn’t to blame, but she knew that thoughts about him were intruding constantly. It had only gotten worse since Max had left the Sunday before. He’d expected to leave over the weekend, but hadn’t. It had annoyed her. She wondered remotely if he’d been hoping to catch her at something. She also wondered if it was guilt about all her thoughts and dreams of Brenden that made her think like that.
There was a light knock on the bathroom door. Glancing down, she checked to make sure the bubbles in the tub totally covered her.
“Yes?” she called.
“Ma’am, there’s a Tabitha here to see you,” called the butler in his usual snotty tone.
“Send her up here, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the butler said, somehow managing to make that sound disapproving.
It wasn’t like the man approved of anything she did. She’d gotten to the point of not caring.
A few minutes later she heard Tabitha call, “Mom?”
Allexxiss smiled, still getting a strange little thrill every time she heard her daughter call her that.
“In here, Tabbie.”
“Hi,” Tabitha said, walking into the bathroom, “sorry if I interrupted your relaxing time.”
“No problem, hon, what’s going on with you? You look really tired or is it stressed?”
“Probably stressed,” Tabitha said, rolling her eyes as she perched on the raised portion of the tub.
“What’s going on?”
“Oh there’s stuff going on with Devlin and my dad.”
“Like what?” Allexxiss asked, curious about what Tabitha had to deal with at the studio.
“Well, Devlin and Dad got into it the other day and Devlin was really nasty, he really scared me.”
Sparks (Wild Irish Silence Book 1) Page 9