KADE: A Second Chance Rockstar Romance

by Jane Anthony

  He threads his fingers together on top of the large desk. “Are you an alcoholic?”

  “No.”

  “Are you a drug addict?”

  “No.”

  “Are you prostituting the streets at night for money?”

  An uneasy bubble of nervous laughter escapes my throat. Is this guy for real? “Of course not.”

  He untangles his fingers and runs them down his goateed face. “These questions are as ridiculous as the case itself, Ms. Daniels. Unfit parenting is extremely difficult to prove unless there are glaring circumstances that can back it up.” He waves his hands over the open file on his desk. “All I’m really seeing here is a domestic issue.”

  I close my eyes and exhale. His words relieve the tension I’ve been holding in my shoulders since I first read the letter last night. Kade smiles and gives my hand a squeeze, reminding me that I don’t have to face this alone.

  “Now, that being said, there does seem to be a small issue between Mr. Daniels and Mr. Black.”

  Kade drops my hand and bolts up in his seat, his fingers creating divots on the smooth leather arms. “What issue?”

  “According to the notes from Mr. Warner, you and Mr. Daniels engaged in a physical altercation in July of last year. In addition, you allegedly came to his place of business and threatened him just this morning.”

  “That’s horseshit!”

  Maxwell lifts his hand to silence Kade’s outburst. “No charges have been filed, nor are there any witnesses to back up his claims, so at this point, it’s all hearsay. But I do need to remind you that your erratic behavior has been making headlines for years. A quick Google search uncovered a recent arrest for assault just last summer.” He lifts his hands to make quotes with his fingers. “Your ‘bad boy’ reputation doesn’t bode well for you.”

  Stricken with the urge to vomit, my hand springs to my mouth. “His arrest last summer was because of me,” I whisper.

  Memories of that night weigh on my chest to this very day. Initially, Kade’s behavior seemed romantic and endearing, but the settling of the dust added a sense of clarity to my otherwise fear-induced mind. Of the multitude of ways he could have handled that situation, fighting and getting arrested hung somewhere close to the bottom.

  To say he was a pit bull was an understatement. He defended me like a bear protects her baby cub. Brutal and bloodthirsty. It wasn’t enough to simply stop the attack; he had to incapacitate the man within an inch of his life. The thing is, those savage hands that battered a person unconscious are the same ones that are so tender with me and so gentle with my daughter. That maniac in the media isn’t him.

  Kade is sitting on the edge of his seat now, leaning so far over he’s hovering above Maxwell’s desk. “My actions in that scenario were warranted. I will do whatever it takes to protect them.”

  “Well, in the meantime, maybe it’s best if the two of you maintain some distance from each other. At least in public,” Maxwell continues. “And don’t worry, Ms. Daniels. I’m going to do everything in my power to ensure Shay stays where she belongs.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Kade

  “A PRETTY FACE and a set of vocal cords? He really said that?” Ainsley sits huddled in the booth, warming her hands with her mug as if she’s freezing in spite of the broiling heat blowing in the overcrowded diner. I resist the urge to go to her side, to wrap my arm around her and hold her until the tension in her back eases, and her shoulders drop from her ears.

  “Yeah.” I nod. “Told me without them I’d be a construction worker.” I laugh even though the situation is anything but funny. “Am I supposed to find that insulting? I don’t get it.” I pick up the tiny white cups of creamer and pour them into my coffee one by one while rehashing the whole conversation with Bob down to the very last detail, leaving out the part where he called her a starving artist. That shit is just downright mean. The spoon clangs against the ceramic cup as the color swirls from brown to beige.

  “I appreciate you trying, but I could have told you that conversation would have gotten you nowhere. Once Bob digs his heels in, that’s it. End of story.” She rests her cheek in her hand and leans on the table. The lawyer assured us that everything is going to be fine, but she still looks unconvinced.

  I hook my finger into the question mark shaped handle and lift the cup to my lips. “Yeah, well, figured it was worth a shot.” Putting the mug down, I take her hand. “I’m sorry, A. My presence has done nothing but cause issues for you since day one.”

  I have a bad temper and a worse way of dealing with it. My brawl at the Pizza Castle threw an unwanted spotlight on her overnight. Never stopping to consider the consequences of my actions, I threw a violent tantrum like I always do. I did the same thing with Bob, and I would have gladly pummeled the boyfriend, as well, if given the opportunity.

  She shrugs and her mouth turns down in a sad pout. Seeing how badly she’s hurting makes me want to go to Bob’s house and throttle the shit out of him. I remind myself for the hundredth time that fighting isn’t the answer. Maybe if I used my words more and my fists less, we wouldn’t be in this nightmare to begin with.

  I sigh. It’s insane how things can go from great to crap in the blink of an eye. A few days ago, I was on top of the world, but now, I feel like the weight of it is crushing me.

  “So tell me more about this event you’re putting together at work,” I say, changing the subject on purpose. She’s been excited about the charity fundraiser. Hopefully, talking about something she likes can distract her from focusing on Dr. Douchebag for a little while.

  “The Indie Artist Exhibit. The gallery does it every year. We give a bunch of local artists the opportunity to showcase their work, and in exchange, the proceeds from anything that sells go to charity.”

  Our waitress comes by and refills Ainsley’s empty coffee cup. Buttons with the chubby smiling faces of her grandkids litter her uniform, and her graying hair frays around her face. She drops a handful of creamer cups on the table with a tight-lipped smile before moving on to her next round of customers. “We have a ton of artists signed up so far. It’s going to be a great turnout.”

  “That sounds like a pretty cool event. When is it?”

  “The day after Thanksgiving.” Ainsley rips open a little blue packet of sweetener and flicks its contents into her cup with her middle finger. She doesn’t elaborate, just twirls her spoon around the cup and watches the mini spiral spin in circles.

  The air is thick with pensiveness. We sit in uncomfortable silence for what feels like an eternity but is probably only about five minutes before she finally says what I knew was coming. “This isn’t going to work, Kade.” Her gaze remains fixed on her cup, avoiding eye contact as she rips the heart from my chest while it’s still beating.

  “We can still see each other. We’ll just have to do it on the down low like Max suggested.”

  “No. We can’t see each other anymore. Period.”

  She’s freaking out again. “Don’t do this. We’re going to fight him, and we’re going to win.” The desperate sound of my own voice makes my skin crawl. I can’t believe what a pussy I’ve turned into. The label is right. I have gone soft.

  Her eyes snap up to mine. “There is no we Kade. This is my fight, for my daughter. You have your own glamorous life in Los Angeles, but mine is here.” The ceramic mugs clatter in their saucers as her hands slam down on the table. “Shay is my life, and whatever this is between us is not worth the risk of losing her.”

  Pieces of my heart flake off in tiny shards around the gaping wound her spiteful words create within me. We’re back in the same place we were a year and a half ago. I’m so sick of her using Shay as an excuse to push me away. This isn’t about Shay; it’s about her fear of letting anyone inside, and I’m done begging her to be with me. I’m Kade fucking Black. I could find at least a dozen women in this very diner who would kill to have a piece of me. “At least you have the balls to say it to my face this time. Do I get another
fuck for the road too?”

  Her eyes narrow into brown slits. “You really are a cocky asshole.” She jabs her arm in the strap of her purse and stands from the table. “Go to hell.”

  She turns on her heel and stomps away, taking the best parts of me with her. I watch her disappear from sight, regretting every word and every arrogant feeling I had over the course of the last ten minutes. My asinine remark hangs in the atmosphere above the table, and I wish that I could grab it with my hands and take it back. Shay may be her life, but she is mine, and I can’t let this be the end of us.

  CHAPTER 36

  Ainsley

  FAT TEARDROPS ROLL relentlessly down my cheeks as I try to think of the best way to break my seven-year-old daughter’s heart. I hate Bob for what he’s doing, and I hate myself for blindly trusting him. Shay deserves so much better than this.

  The shrill alarm rings out on my phone, alerting me that Shay will be here any minute. I wash my face and run outside to greet her. The big yellow bus screeches to a stop, and my heart begins to pound. The warm afternoon sun beats down on the sidewalk. The rhinestones on Shay’s shirt blind me as she skips off the bus.

  Once inside, I sit her down at the table with a plate of cookies. My hands shake so badly as I pour the milk that I’m worried I’ll spill it everywhere. I set the glass down, take the seat next to her, and try to think of a way to explain it in the simplest terms. We agreed to do this together but, as usual, Bob had better things to do.

  “Shay. Mommy has something to talk to you about.” She munches on her cookies and listens as I speak. “Daddy and Cami aren’t going to be here at the house anymore. They are going to a new house together, and you’ll visit and see them, but your home is going to be here with me.” I reach across the table and take her little hand in mine. “Do you understand, sweetie? Are you okay?”

  I expected questions and crying, but none of that occurs. Instead, her answer is something I’ll remember for the rest of my life. “It’s okay, Mommy. At least we still have each other.”

  ***

  “Mommy, can we have pizza tonight?” I look over at my cute little Shay and see my own giant brown eyes staring back at me. Usually, Bob’s traits come through fast and strong, overpowering any sign of me that might be hiding inside, but every so often, she makes a face that reminds me so much of myself it’s scary.

  “Sure, sweetie. That’s a great idea.” I open the drawer and pull out the stack of takeout menus I keep hidden inside. “Why don’t you pick a movie for us while I call it in?”

  She runs off into the family room as I reach for the phone. Maxwell has told me to remain positive, so I am. I’m trying to, anyway. He called Bob’s lawyer and arranged it so that Bob is no longer granted access to this house without my permission. From now on, when he drops off Shay, he is to wait in the car and allow her to come up to the house alone. This isn’t his weekend, so we’ll have to wait and see how that works out.

  After ordering our food, I go off to the family room to find her. “Did you find something good to watch?”

  “Yep! Spiderman is coming on in thirty minutes!” Shay is a big girl now, but ever since she was a toddler, she’s been obsessed with superheroes. All superheroes—Batman, Super Girl, X-Men, The Avengers. Even the bad guys like The Violator and Lex Luther. While all her little friends played with baby dolls and Barbies, Shay would tie a tablecloth to her back and pretend to rescue them from certain doom. It drove Bob nuts, but I love that she marches to the beat of her own drum.

  She’s always been different from kids her age. More mature. It never occurred to me to question it, but sometimes, I wonder if Bob made her that way. He lacks the patience it takes to deal with a child, always snapping at her for doing normal kid things like talking loud in the house or leaving her toys out. It wasn’t enough that we enrolled her in dance at three-years-old; she had to be the best. Only after Bob moved out did she admit she hated it. For four years, she took dance classes with the sole purpose of making her father happy. It’s hard to fit into someone’s perfect mold. I speak from experience.

  Pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, I plop into the seat next to her. She pulls a corner over her short legs and curls them under her, a mirror image of my preferred sitting position.

  Shay may have been graced with Bob’s face and hair, but her tiny frame is all me. She’s little. There was a time when her small stature worried the hell out of me, but the doctor assured me it’s just the way she is. Smaller than everyone, but with a larger than life personality that more than makes up for it. I say she’s nine going on nineteen, and it’s the absolute truth. Sometimes, she seems so grown up that I forget how young she really is.

  I surf the channels looking for something to watch for the next half hour while Shay cuddles up next to me. “Am I going to live with Daddy and Cami?”

  A shot hits me straight through the heart, and a slow burn radiates throughout my chest. I’ve never discussed the case in front of her. She must have heard something at Bob’s house. Goddamn him and his big mouth.

  “Is that what you want?” I suck in a deep breath, preparing myself for the blow of her saying yes. The fear that she’d be happier there than here is one that I’ve always held onto. She and Cami have always been so close. It’s only a matter of time before she decides she likes her better than she likes me.

  “I want to stay here. Daddy isn’t really around much, and Cami will be too busy with the babies to play with me. Besides, they fight a lot.”

  The breath I’d been holding trickles out as I tuck her under my arm. “Don’t worry. You’re staying right here with me.” I give her a squeeze, hiding the wetness in my eyes. Potentially lying to my daughter causes a piece of me to feel like it’s dying inside. I’ve never been anything but honest with her, but this trial is not her cross to bear. She doesn’t deserve to be saddled with my worries.

  My phone chimes on the couch next to me. Kade’s face flashes on the screen then disappears in an instant. “You can invite Kade over if you want. I don’t mind.”

  I look over at my daughter with surprise. “Why would I do that?”

  Shay shrugs her petite shoulders. “He’s nice, and you’re always happy when he’s around.”

  Her candor shocks me, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to take it. “Am I usually grumpy?” I laugh, trying to make it seem like a joke. I never really considered myself an unhappy person, but it worries me that I’m giving off that vibe to my impressionable daughter.

  “No! He just makes you seem. . . .” She stares into space, her forehead creasing and her lips pinched together as she thinks of the right words to say. “ . . . less sad.” She turns back toward the television and continues watching whatever tween show I stopped at.

  “It’s okay to be sad sometimes.”

  Even after Bob moved out, Shay remained stoic about the whole thing. He wasn’t home that often to begin with, and Cami had been a constant presence in her life since she was a baby. At the time, I just assumed she just didn’t understand.

  “Yeah. I guess,” she replied.

  My phone chimes a second time, and, again, I ignore it. After our fight the other day, Kade’s been hounding me to talk to him, but I can’t. All it will take is one look in those enthralling blue eyes, and he’ll end up in my bed like he always does, but there’s too much at stake now. Maybe once the case is over, we can pick up where we left off, but for now, I need to keep my distance. Like Maxwell suggested.

  I know he cares for me. I see it in every look, feel it in every kiss. He wouldn’t still be here if he didn’t, but a choice between him and Shay is a no-brainer. She’s everything to me, and I can’t live without her.

  ***

  “Wow, that’s low, even for Bob.”

  Jenny’s scowl doesn’t detract from the gorgeous sun-kissed glow on her cheeks. After two weeks in Hawaii with her handsome new husband, I’m sure the last thing she wants is to hear more drama about my suburban life.

  �
��Yeah, tell me about it.”

  My phone is shoved between my bent knees like a channel set diamond as I rest back on the headboard. From this angle, I look like a pig, all chins and nostrils, but it seems fitting to look as shitty as I feel. “Why is Bob doing this to me?”

  “Because he’s jealous, and Shay is the only thing he has to use against you at this point. You know as well as I do that this is all about control.” It’s true. Bob has always managed to control every aspect of my life from the day I met him—down to my hair color. My natural color is dark brown with an auburn hue. Bob liked it light, so I kept it light, even though I was never that big of a fan of it.

  “You sound like Kade. He pretty much told me the same thing.” My chest tightens at the mention of his name. He still hasn’t stopped trying to get in touch with me. I keep expecting him to randomly show up. Again.

  Jenny chews on the edge of her thumbnail. “Since you brought him up, I feel like I need to tell you that he’s been blowing up Banger’s phone over you. Why are you shutting him out?”

  I throw my arms over my face in dramatic exasperation then fling them off again. “I have to, Jen. Shay is the only thing that matters to me. I can’t be with Kade if it means I lose her.”

  “Lovie, we all get it. Shay is priority one but ignoring him like he’s not even there isn’t right.”

  “Well, a few more days of this crap will have him running for the hills.” My life is a Lifetime movie of the week. It’s either dramatic as hell, or boring enough to make you want to off yourself. There is no in between.

  “Ainsley, be serious. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, and that good old boy has fallen hard as hell for you.”

  Jenny pauses to throw her hair up in a messy ponytail that looks like it belongs on a magazine cover. Meanwhile, the tiny curls around my hairline are foinking all over the place like I’ve been electrocuted. Yes, I said foinking, and I know it’s not a word, but it’s the best way to describe what I have going on right now. “Speaking of hard, how was he? As good as you remember?”