Sparks (Wild Irish Silence Book 1)

by Sherryl Hancock

  “But it’s you, Brenden,” she said. “It was you then, and I’d like to know what you were feeling.”

  Brenden thought for a moment, then nodded his head, looking resigned. He reached behind him, pulled out his CD case, and handed it to her.

  “It’s called ‘Dead of Night.’ It’s all black with blood-red writing.”

  “Blood red?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

  “Yup.”

  She found the CD and put it in. Even the beginning of the album gave her chills. It was indeed very dark. The lyrics talked about mainlining, and giving into the Devil. Brenden sang along, smoking the entire time. “Does it bother you to hear this?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Nah,” he said, “I like all my stuff. I won’t put it out if I’m not proud of it. This,” he said, gesturing to the player as the next song wound up in guitars, “is a major departure from my usual stuff, but it’s still me, and it’s still rock ‘n’ roll.”

  Allexxiss nodded, thinking about the movie she’d wanted to produce. It had been a very different role for her to play and she wanted it more than anything. She wanted to “stretch her range” like Brenden stretched his. It irritated her no end that she was in a holding pattern trying to get it backed again. No one else was brave enough to go against Artisan Pictures.

  She sat back, listening to Dead of Night and began hearing similarities in the music and mixing to the ideas she’d had on the script for The Living Edge. When the last song ended, she looked over at Brenden.

  “Have you ever done a soundtrack?” she asked him.

  “A wot?” he asked, totally taken off guard by the question.

  “A soundtrack for a movie,” she said. “I’ve got this movie I’m trying to produce, and I need a good edgy soundtrack for it.”

  Brenden looked cynical. “I’m not really into stuff like that, love.”

  “But you could be, right?” she asked. “You arrange all your own stuff, don’t you? I mean you and Devlin do, right? I’d be looking at using Sparks as a whole …” she said, thinking about the possibilities.

  “I dunno,” he said, shaking his head. “What’s this movie about?”

  Allexxiss proceeded to tell him the entire plot to the movie. Taking her time to make sure he understood every aspect of it. By the time they pulled up in front of the Hotel Del Coronado, he was nodding.

  “Might be something we could do,” he said, liking the idea of working with her on something she loved, while doing something he loved.

  “You think so?” she asked, excited at the prospect.

  With Sparks behind the movie, she knew she could sell it to anyone. Sparks was a big, big mover in the industry. Everyone knew that.

  Brenden nodded, grinning at the excited light in her eyes.

  “So when does this movie start? ’Cause I have a three-month tour coming up here …” he said.

  “Well, I have to get backing again, first,” she said.

  “Again?” he asked as they got out of the car.

  “Yes, Artisan backed out on me,” she said, making a face.

  “So, what does ‘backing’ a movie involve?” he asked.

  “A lot of money,” she said, sighing.

  They walked into the hotel, and stopped talking about the movie. Eventually he got out of her how much money they were talking. At least $30 million.

  “I could probably get the label to back it, especially if Sparks was involved in the project,” he said while they sat at dinner that night.

  “Are you serious?” she asked, looking stunned.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Half of it would end up being my money, but yeah, I don’t think that would be a problem.”

  “Half?” she asked breathlessly. “I couldn’t ask you to do that, Bren,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Why not?” he asked. “You told me it’s a movie that can’t lose.”

  “And you trust me?” she asked, looking exasperated.

  “Yeah,” he said, grinning, “go figure.”

  “Bren …” she said, shaking her head, her eyes shining. “I didn’t tell you about this to get you that involved, I just thought—”

  “I want to be involved,” he said, cutting her off.

  She bit her lip, her eyes shining with excitement. She was sure that the movie would do well, she was sure of it, so he wouldn’t lose money. Hell, if he did, by some chance, she’d pay him back with her own money. She couldn’t believe this might actually happen.

  They spent the rest of their trip talking about ideas for songs and the like. Brenden had to buy a notebook so he could start writing down all the ideas he was having. Allexxiss lay in the bathtub on the second night, while he sat on the counter in the bathroom writing down notes.

  “You know, this tub is big enough for two …” she said, smiling at him.

  “Is it now?” he asked, his accent making him sound very proper suddenly.

  “Uh-huh,” she said, giving him a seductive smile.

  “And how am I supposed to resist that?” he asked as he put his notebook down.

  He got off the counter, and quickly took off his shirt and jeans. In minutes, he was stepping into the tub behind her. His hands slid around her waist and pulled her back against him. His lips found her neck, touching her skin sensually.

  “Oh Bren …” she whispered huskily.

  “Mmmm …” he murmured against her neck, his hands sliding over her skin.

  Within minutes, they were making love in the huge bathtub, then again in the bed. They fell into a warm comfortable sleep afterwards, his body wrapped around hers from behind.

  The Monday after they got back to “civilization” as Brenden termed it, he had the papers drawn up for Badlands Records to back The Living Edge. He had them messengered over to Allexxiss with a dozen long-stemmed red roses. She received it at that house, smiling happily at the thoughtfulness but knowing she’d have to keep the roses somewhere so Max wouldn’t question them too much. She finally put them on the dining room table, simply because they matched the decor, so didn’t look too out of place.

  Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for Max to find out what company had backed The Living Edge, and he was furious. He’d purposely killed the project to keep Allexxiss in check. She was getting too power hungry and he wanted to make sure she knew her place. Now the project was backed by the same record company Sparks had his contract with? It was too much of a coincidence for him. Max set a private investigator on Allex the next day. It didn’t take long for Max to get the evidence he needed to prove that she was seeing BJ Sparks again. That further infuriated him, but instead of confronting her, he leaked it to the press.

  The headline read, “The Sparks Will Be Flying!” It showed a picture of Brenden and Allexxiss kissing at his house out by the pool. It talked about how BJ Sparks had been nothing but a lowly bartender in England when they met, and how Allexxiss had gotten herself pregnant at the mere age of sixteen. It painted Max Putnam as the man that had rescued Allex when Sparks had thrown her away, “like trash,” Max was quoted as saying. Now here they were, putting together millions of dollars in deals, and leaving her poor husband to look like the fool.

  Brenden read it, and merely raised his eyebrow at the “thrown away” comment. As far as he was concerned, this would push things to happen the way they needed to. Allexxiss read it sitting in her dining room, glancing at the red roses. She had to calm her stomach as it tightened threateningly. Max was at work, so she ran upstairs and changed clothes, then drove over to Brenden’s.

  As she walked into the house, she saw him standing on the landing upstairs.

  “Did you see it?” she asked.

  Brenden nodded. “I saw it,” he confirmed, walking down the stairs.

  “How did they get that picture?” she asked, shaking her head.

  “How do they get any picture?” he replied, taking her hand and pulling her to him. He hugged her, kissing her temple.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, sensing that
she was shaken.

  She nodded. “I guess I just wasn’t ready to handle this yet.”

  He pulled back and looked down at her. “Tell him it’s bullshit, that we’re simply friends and that they got a compromising picture.”

  Allex looked back at him for a long moment, surprised by what he’d just said. She knew he wanted her to divorce Max and be with him, but he had never pushed. Now he was saying to lie about them? Then she realized he was giving her an easy out, a way to get out of the confrontation with Max that she was terrified to have.

  “No, Bren,” she said, shaking her head and looking up at him. “I want you, and this is just going to have to be the way that I tell him I want out.”

  His eyes searched hers. She could see he wanted to know that she was really up for this battle. She looked back at him, her most determined look on her face. Still he read the doubt in her eyes. Allexxiss had never been good at confrontations. It was why she’d never confronted him years before when she thought he was cheating on her, and it was why she hadn’t confronted Max for cheating on her. Especially as she was now cheating on Max as well. It seemed like an equal trade off to her.

  Part of her had hoped that Max would ignore the paper, knowing what he was doing, and figuring everyone would shrug it off as just another tabloid ploy.

  However, that hope was resoundingly squelched that night. She was sitting at her desk in her office at the house. Max walked in and threw the paper on her desk.

  “You want to explain this one?” he asked, his voice angrier than she’d ever heard it.

  She looked at the paper for a long moment, her eyes focused on the picture of her and Brenden, and tried to draw strength from that.

  “I love him,” she said quietly.

  “Who the fuck cares, Allex!” Max yelled.

  She winced at his rage. She had hoped hearing that would have allowed her to segue easily into asking for the divorce. Drawing a deep breath, she turned to look at him.

  “Max, I want a divorce,” she said, her tone as even as she could keep it, even though her insides were trembling terribly.

  Max narrowed his eyes at her. “That’s not going to happen, Allexxiss,” Max said, his tone so chilling that Allex gasped at the sound.

  “Max—” she began, but he cut her off almost violently.

  “It’s not going to happen, Allex! You belong to me, do you understand that? You’re my property, mine!” he growled. “No fucking bar rat is going to take you from me. I don’t care what the piece of shit calls himself now! You’re my wife and that’s not going to change, ever!”

  Allex backed away from him, seeing the anger blazing in his eyes. It was almost maniacal and it scared her.

  “Max, please, you just—”

  “No!” he bellowed, making a cutting gesture with his hand. “You listen to me, Allexxiss, and you listen very closely,” he said, backing her up against the desk, towering over her, his hands down on the desk on either side of her. “You will break it off with Sparks and I better never hear another word about him or that brat of his, or I’ll ruin you, do you hear me? I’ll ruin you and I’ll ruin him right along with you. You’ll end up back in the hovel in London he came from, where he belongs. Do you understand me?” he growled.

  Allex stared back at him, trying to decide if she should believe him. She knew Max had a lot of power in Los Angeles. What could he do? Could he get Badlands to fire Brenden? What if that happened? What if he could ruin Brenden? She couldn’t bear that. She’d be able to live with him ruining her own career; it was marrying Max that had given her the career in the first place. She loved Brenden enough to give up her career. But she couldn’t let Max ruin Brenden. He’d worked too hard to get where he was. And ruining Brenden would ruin Tabitha too. It would put them both in the poor house. Allex couldn’t handle the idea that with one selfish act, she could ruin the lives of the two people she loved the most. It was time for her to make a difficult decision. Brenden had made it years ago to save her, and now she had to make one to save both him and their daughter.

  Slowly she nodded to Max, who was still waiting for an answer.

  “I have someone watching you all the time Allex. Don’t think I won’t know if you contact him again. It’s over, as of right now,” Max said.

  Allex’s eyes widened, then she lowered them, nodding to him. She walked away from him, walking up to their room and closing the door quietly. She sat down on the couch in her walk-in closet, refusing to cry, lest Max come in and find her doing so. She just sat and stared, sure she would just stop breathing at any time. Her heart was shattered, and she didn’t even begin to know where to pick up the pieces. It was over, her dream of being with the man she loved, was over. She couldn’t believe it, and she couldn’t breathe.

  ****

  For two days, Allex didn’t call. Brenden knew something was wrong. He was on edge and snapped at everyone around him. Finally, on the morning of the third day, he saw the papers. “Ramsey vacation’s in Jamaica with her husband.” The rest of the story talked about how in love she was with her husband, “motion picture executive Maxwell Putnam” and now there were rumors about Ramsey expecting …

  Brenden gave a frustrated yell, throwing the paper across the room. He picked up his coffee cup and launched it across the room, then upended the kitchen table in his fury. Tabitha walked in about then.

  “Dad!” she yelled, over his cussing.

  Brenden turned, looking at her, panting as his adrenaline pumped.

  “What is it?” she asked, a cold fear gripping her heart.

  Brenden looked back at his daughter, as it started hitting him. She was gone, Allex was gone again, out of his life. Had she used him? To get her movie contract? To make her husband jealous? What? Why? his mind screamed. The fight left him then and he blinked slowly and walked past his daughter out of the destroyed kitchen. Tabitha stared after him, not sure what to do. She looked around the kitchen and noticed the paper lying in a heap. She picked it up and read the headline.

  “Oh my God …” she breathed, knowing what had sent her father into a rage.

  She read the story with tears in her eyes. Her thoughts were like her father’s. The question “Why?” kept coming to mind. Why would she do this? Why would she do this to them?

  Tabitha left her father alone that day, assuming he needed some space. She called some friends and went to hang out with them for the day. When she returned that night, she went to see her father, wanting to assure herself that he was okay.

  She walked into his room, and knew before she even saw him that he wasn’t okay. The room was dark, there was no music, no sound. She saw him lying on the bed, still fully clothed, even with his boots on. He was lying on his side, holding something in his fingers.

  Tabitha walked over to the bed and saw that he was holding his wedding band. His eyes stared unseeing at the ring he was turning around and around between his fingers.

  “Daddy?” Tabitha said, her tone worried.

  Brenden didn’t even flicker.

  “Daddy!” she called out, louder this time.

  Again, he didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t look at her. She sat down on the bed, and touched his arm.

  “Please don’t do this, Daddy, I need you, please?” she asked tearfully.

  Brenden said nothing; he continued to stare straight ahead.

  She lay down, putting her eyes on the same level as his and stared right into his eyes.

  “Daddy, I need you, please don’t let her do this to us,” she said, tears falling from her eyes. “Please, Daddy, please …”

  Brenden still didn’t look at her. He only closed his fingers over the wedding band. Tabitha watched horrified as he crushed the band between his fingers, his teeth clenching as he did, his eyes flickering with the effort, but never seeing her.

  Tabitha lay next to him and cried, terrified of what would happen. She’d seen his depressions, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this one could kill him. She knew h
e wouldn’t do anything to help himself this time. Tabitha spent the night lying next to him, her hand on his arm, so she’d know when he got up. He didn’t. The next morning, he’d closed his eyes, and was sleeping, but she was sure it was just a way to escape. She was right and he slept for the next three days. She was desperate by the fifth day. She knew she needed to break him out of this depression somehow. She had to do something.

  ****

  Devlin sat on his bed, his head leaning back against the wall, his fingers moving in time to the guitar on the radio. He wore jeans and nothing else. A woman was asleep on the bed, obviously naked, but he didn’t pay her any attention. He’d actually been surprised she’d stayed the night. He very vaguely remembered picking her up in the bar last night. He remembered even less about their encounter. Good, going for AIDS now too? his mind asked him.

  He was stunned when Tabitha burst into his room.

  “What the?” he started to ask.

  “Devlin, I need you!” she said, her voice a plaintive wail.

  “Tab,” he began, shaking his head.

  “I need you!” she yelled, tears springing to her eyes. “Daddy needs you.”

  “What happened?” Devlin asked, feeling the hairs stand up on his arms at the tone in her voice.

  “She left him,” Tabitha said, shaking her head. “She left us,” she said, then the tears starting then.

  She stood crying, unable to control the tears anymore. Suddenly Devlin was there, holding her, telling her it was okay. He held her to him, his hands stroking her hair, like he had for so many years. His voice was soothing, like it had always been. She’d been afraid to go to him, but desperation had made her willing to try anything.

  An hour later, Devlin walked into Brenden’s house and up to his room.

  “Okay, Sparks, let’s go!” he bellowed, walking over to the bed.

  Brenden didn’t move, his eyes were open now, but he didn’t respond to Devlin.

  “Get up, Sparks, we’re not going to play this one again, you got it?” Devlin said harshly. “Get the fuck up, now!”