by Craft, Lana
“Sorry,” Ronald said again, looking up at her over the frames of his glasses.
Blair shrugged. She wasn't sure if he was apologizing for coughing in her face or being late, but both were rather in line with the kind of person he was. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong or should I guess?" she questioned, getting right to the point. When he didn't answer, she pushed him a bit further. "Violet finally packed up and left you, didn't she?"
Violet was Ronald's latest wife. She was also one of the best defense attorneys in the state. Blair always knew it would only be a matter of time before she caught on to her husband’s adulterous tendencies, like the fact that he had a pension for luring aspiring young actresses into his bed in exchange for his services.
Eden was never supposed to happen, but she had, and there wasn't any denying who her father was. Blair never had to come out and say it. Anyone who saw Eden and Ronald in the same room together would have been able to peg them as father and daughter. Blair knew it would be the final nail in the coffin that was his marriage, but she wasn't about to hide her daughter away like some kind of dirty little secret either.
"Well?" Blair pressed. "I'm right, aren't I?"
Ronald's face drained of color and he refused to meet her gaze. He waved a hand in the air and cleared his throat, setting his briefcase on the table and knocking a folded napkin to the ground in the process.
It was all the response Blair needed. She moved her plate and wine glass off to the side, giving him the room he needed to digest her words. Didn't he know how obvious he looked? He had to have been the most easy to read man on earth, or at least greater Los Angeles.
“Surprise, surprise,” Blair said under her breath. She looked out over the fence that separated the restaurant from the rest of street in an attempt at appearing distracted. The last thing she wanted was him taking notice of how uncomfortable she felt. Here she was. The home wrecking whore in all her glory.
Blair watched out of the corner of her eye as Ronald pulled a stack of paperwork from his briefcase, setting it down in front of her. She sighed and shielded her eyes from the sun as she paged through it. Each piece said the same thing. Her production company was firing her. Not laying her off, or even letting her go on a temporary leave.
Fired.
Blair looked up and Ronald in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? This can't be happening. No...this isn't happening. Ron, you have to do something about this. You have to fix it."
Ronald cleared his throat and started to say something but no words reached the surfaced. He was jittery and unfocused and it was obvious that he didn't want to be having this discussion anymore than she did. He straightened his tie, nodding his head at a passing waitress.
“Ronald?” Blair insisted. “You can't just sit back and let them fuck me like this. I have a kid to feed."
Ronald scratched his jaw and motioned for her to keep it down. "I'm sorry, Blair, I am. But they just...they feel like it would be best if you took this time to focus on being a mother."
"What?" Blair shook her head and ran an unsteady hand through her hair. Well wasn't this ripe. "You know, no one would ever say something like that to a man. Demi Moore, Meryl Streep, Sally Field. Ever heard of them? All of them are mothers and last I checked, they're all pretty successful at what they do..."
"Blair..."
"No, don't Blair me. Not this time. Not with this. Why don't you just give it to me straight? This is because of my weight gain, isn't it?"
When Ronald didn't respond Blair exhaled a deep sigh. "I knew it."
Ronald hesitated, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the inside of his coat. "Look, if you don't think I'm not every bit as broken up about this as you are, you're wrong." He shook one from the pack and brought a flame to it, taking a slow drag. "I see something in you, Blair. I really do. It's just...this isn't the kind of place that's kind to young mothers trying to break into the business. You know that as well as I do. When you first came to me for representation...well, I'll be honest here. Part of the draw was that you didn't come with obligations. "
"Right, because I just knocked myself up all on my own accord, now didn't I?" Blair stifled a laugh. "Is that really all our daughter is to you, Ron? An obligation?"
"Now hold on just a second," Ron said. "You know that couldn't be further from the—"
Blair swatted at a mosquito and cursed under her breath, stopping him before he could finish his sentence. They were bad this year. She had already squashed three of them since being seated. It seemed like they were more attracted to her blood than they were that of everyone else out on the patio. Ruthless little things. That's all they were.
"What about Eden?" Blair questioned, hearing her voice before she could process the thought.
Ronald frowned. "Blair, come on. You know I'll see to it that the two of you are taken care of—"
"No, that's not what I mean," Blair said. "What I mean is...what if we got her into the industry?" She paused to let her words sink in. "Think about it. She's a gorgeous kid and I don't just say that as her mother. She has what it takes, don't you think?"
"Jesus Christ." Ronald shook his head and flicked the ash from his cigarette over the edge of the fence. "She has what it takes? You can't be serious here, Blair. Do you hear yourself? She's not even a year old. For Christ sakes, she hasn't even spoken her first word!"
"Oh turn it down a few notches, would you?" Blair said. "I don't mean now, but in a few years, when she's commercial age. Come on, Ron. You know as well as I do that child actors have a way higher rate of success than anyone else trying to break into the industry. You said it yourself. My biggest draw when I first came to you was that I was without any obligations. Well...who has less obligations than a child?"
Ronald rubbed his face as he thought it over. "Alright," he finally said, sitting up a bit and flattening his tie. "But I don't want to hear another thing about this until she's lost her first baby tooth, is that clear?"
Blair smiled and held up two fingers in solidarity. Ronald reached for her water without asking, fishing out the tiny lemon floating in the middle of if before going on a rant about how much it bothered him when restaurants added unnecessary decals to drinks. He always got to talking about something random when he didn't like the topic at hand.
"Did they say anything in specific?" Blair asked, attempting to steer him back on topic. "About why they let me go, I mean."
"Uh." Ronald hesitated and scratched his chin. He waved a hand at her. "Just that they feel like your mind has been elsewhere lately. It had nothing to do with your weight or anything like that, I promise."
"Right." Blair smirked and took a bite of her salad, chewing but not quite tasting it. This was LA. If there was one thing she knew for sure, it was that it was always a matter of appearances. She watched through squinted eyes as Ronald exhaled a thin ring of smoke into the air, away from the other patrons. It went without saying that the last thing he cared about was his health.
“Is there anything I can get you both?” a waitress questioned, pausing in front of their table with a tray of food perched somewhat off balance on her shoulder.
Blair shook her head. She had already been here way longer than she intended to be. "No, thank you,” Ronald spoke up, giving the waitress a tight smile as he killed his smoke. She raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on it, turning instead to make her way back inside.
“Do you have to do that?” Blair questioned when she was out of earshot. "You know you're not supposed to smoke out here. I tell you this every time we come."
"Well, we're outside, aren't we?" Ronald stacked the paperwork and put it back inside his briefcase, snapping it shut and sliding it between his feet. "I guess I just don't see what the big deal is."
Blair sighed and rolled her eyes at him. Stuff like this was the reason she could only stomach his presence in small dosages. As he went on to rant about how crappy the air quality in Los Angeles was anyway, she tuned him out, focusing instead on the people around the
m. A mother and father fought under their breath about enrolling their son in an elite private school. A girl a few tables away was breaking off an engagement with a defeated looking man. And a child no older than three was running between each row of tables, laughing as his mother tried her best to keep up with him.
Blair noticed everything.
“You know, I get the feeling that you aren't listening to me,” Ronald spoke up, catching wind of her distraction.
Blair shrugged and took a final sip of her wine. He was finally starting to get the hint. By all intensive purposes, he had just fired her. Why would he think she was in the mood for lighthearted conversation? “I better go,” she said instead, standing up to gather her things.
“Wait!”
Blair sighed. She turned around to look at him as he scrambled to his feet, rubbing up against the backs of annoyed patrons as he squeezed past them. "Excuse me, excuse me, sorry,” he said as they turned around to glare at him. One man flat out told him to watch what he was doing, but Ronald remained unscathed.
“I need to know what your next move is,” he told Blair as she paid and stepped out onto the curb, making her way to the meter she parked in front of. She cringed at the lingering stares people on the patio were starting to give them.
“Well right now? I'm going home to our daughter. I need to figure out how I'm going to afford to keep a roof over her head, you know, since I'm out of a job now."
Blair unlocked her car and climbed in before Ronald could respond, locking the doors as she started up the engine. The radio blared as it came to life. She reached forward to turn it off, resting her head on the steering wheel as he began to bang on her window. "I meant what I said," he insisted through the glass. "You know I want to be with you Blair. Just let me take care of the two of you. You're the only family I have left."
Blair couldn't listen to him another second longer. She shifted gears, stepping down hard on the gas and causing the vehicle to roll into reverse. He was kidding himself and he knew it. He couldn't take care of them or anyone else. At the end of the day, he couldn't even take care of himself.
Chapter nineteen
Trent followed the trail of signs that led from the motel back to his father's house. A million frantic thoughts were piling up in his head, but he made sure not to drive too fast or too slow and kept off the main roads. His phone wouldn't stop vibrating against his leg. He had gotten a text from Gina a short while ago. Of course...it was never just one with her. When he didn't respond right away, it wasn't long before it evolved into a dozen or so much more exasperated ones.
Text from Gina 12:24 am
Need to talk to you...
Text from Gina 12:55 am
For real? I can see that you read my last message, asshole. Look that girl you're with is all over the news. They're saying she's missing. Kidnapped. That's what they're saying. They even got her mom on channel 9 pleading for her safe return. Trent. Please tell me you didn't think you could get away with this...
Text from Gina 01:12 am
She says she knows you. The girl’s mother. She's talking to you directly. Her name is Blair something or another. That ring any bells? God I really can’t believe you'd do something like this to me after what happened between us the other night. You're a real piece of work.
That wasn't even the half of it. It was true what they said about sticking your dick in crazy. It never went over well in the end. Trent licked his lips and focused on the dark road ahead, tightening his grip on the handlebars. Blair was Eden's mother. Of course she was. He couldn't act like it didn't make sense that the universe would fuck him over like this. Not after everything that had happened. But he couldn't ignore the implications of it either.
The word was out. Eden was a full-fledged missing person. According to every news source in the west, he had kidnapped his former stepsister's daughter. Oh fuck. He had slept with Blair’s…
"What's wrong?" Eden questioned, breaking Trent's train of thought. It was like she just knew something dark and ugly had sank its claws into his mind. Trent never fared well under stress, but right now his brain felt like silly puddy. There were two men bleeding out in his father's basement, and he had slept with Blair's daughter. It didn't get much more high-stress than that.
When they arrived at the house, Trent spent a good ten minutes looking around to make sure it was safe before flagging Eden inside. Better safe than sorry. Pure adrenaline was pumping its way through his veins and his mind was working a mile a minute. There wasn't any stopping him now. He needed to finish the job. On his own. Without her help.
Trent surmised that the adrenaline was what was keeping his mind off of Blair. There was going to be hell for him to pay later, but for now he was grateful for the stress-induced fog that surrounded him. It meant his brain would be able to detach from the trauma long enough for him to go through the motions.
Trent had been in this situation more times than he could count. Some men, he figured, just weren't worthy of living. "Please," Trent told Eden when she tried to follow him into the basement, grasping for her wrist and holding her at a distance. "Why don't you try and get some sleep? The room down the hall and to the right has fresh sheets on the bed."
Eden hesitated. She opened her mouth like she was about to argue the point, but closed it when she saw the dark look on Trent's face. Smart. She tiptoed into the tiny bedroom and shut the door, sliding against it and pressing her ear to the wood to listen to him work. She could hear the sound of wet boots clomping down against the creaking wood floor, followed by the dull thump of bodies. Then there was nothing but silence.
Feeling her exhaustion overcome her, Eden collapsed on the sagging bed in the middle of the room. Her eyes fluttered shut a few moments later, and a heavy sleep settled over her like a warm blanket.
Trent retreated into the backyard and grabbed a shovel from his father's old storage shed. As he worked, dragging each heavy body out of the house and deep into the trees, he tried his best to quiet his mind. It wasn't like they were the only unfortunate sons of bitches to get buried on his father's land. Trent knew that much. And besides. They had it coming.
After finishing the job, Trent stood over the graves and watched the sun rise with bleary eyes. His phone vibrated again in his pocket. This time it was Chase making sure he had done as instructed. Trent told him that he had and caught a brief glimpse of the time flashing on the screen. It was almost six a.m. The absence of clocks had him in a constant disorientation throughout the night, but it was official. Eden had been missing too full days.
Trent's mind spiraled off into infinite directions as he covered the bodies, flinging wet soil into the ground. His pulse jumped on wild intervals as his anxiety ratcheted up his heart rate. How the fuck was he always the one ending up in this kind of mess? He had never been what you would call smooth under pressure. Except for when he had broken Eden out of the hospital, but that was only because he had dazzled her into submission.
Trent remembered the first time he ever saw his father dispose of a body this way. The hole in his chest ached at the memory. He couldn't have been any older than ten at the time, and he had just sort of stumbled in on it. "Now Trent," Nolan said, taking a knee to look him in the eye. "You're never to do something like this unless it’s a matter of you versus them. Is that clear?"
Trent sighed and stripped of his clothing, dragging his muddy body into the shower. He thought the scalding water would help numb some of the guilt he felt. It didn't, but at the end of a long day like today, he liked relaxing under the steam. It gave him a moment to get his thoughts in order, but he didn't have time to relax. He washed on autopilot, trying his best to make his mind completely blank as he caught a look at himself in the glass.
The nondescript bruises that covered his body made it look like a road map of misfortune. His dark hair was long and matted, and his facial hair wild and untamed. His piercing eyes sported deep circles beneath them. He looked like he had been sleep-deprived for days. Maybe
even weeks.
Trent wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped out onto the tile. He wiped a hand over the fog on the mirror and recoiled when he saw himself more clearly. A deep sigh left his mouth as he braced against the sink. He was getting old and he knew it. Soon a day would come when he would no longer be able to use his looks to his advantage. It was bullshit, especially considering it was the only real card he had left to play, but that was life. It wasn't supposed to be fair.
Trent pulled away from the sink and went to get dressed. There would be time for him to break down later, when he could finally take a moment to process this cluster fuck of a situation. Right now...he had a lost girl to return and a couple bottles of liquor to knick.
Baby steps.
Trent and Eden went their separate ways shortly after noon. He dropped her off in front of her house and hesitated as she lingered in front of him.
"So," Eden said, breaking through the barrier of silence that settled over them. "Will I ever see you again?"