Rock Legend

by Tara Leigh

  I heaved a deep sigh and pulled away, reaching for the tissues Delaney had put on the cocktail table and taking not just one, but the entire box.

  Shaking my head, I listed my regrets. “I shouldn’t have thrown my birth control pills at Adam in a fit of anger. I should have known how to put a condom on correctly. I shouldn’t have lied to Adam about why I was doing the lab test. I should have given Landon a few seconds to absorb the news before ripping him to shreds.” I blew my nose and wiped at my eyes, wallowing in abject misery.

  Delaney made a comforting sound. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty. You can’t go back, no one can. And it sounds to me like you and Landon are going to have to figure out a path forward, together.”

  A sob rose up from the deepest part of me. “I don’t even know if I did the right thing. Adam was becoming so involved, it started to feel like I was just a surrogate he and Brian hired. I didn’t get the paternity test out of spite…but a part of me wanted my baby back, you know. And now—now I can’t help but feel like I went from Adam, the helicopter dad, to Landon, the absent dad. Did I destroy any chance of my baby having a father?”

  Delaney waited a few minutes, until my tears slowed to a trickle. “You know what—none of that matters. DNA doesn’t lie. And it doesn’t matter why you got the test, either. Landon is your baby’s father, period. Better to know the truth sooner rather than later. You and Landon have the next five months or so, right? Maybe after he adjusts to the idea, you can figure things out together.”

  I groaned my doubt. “With Landon, the highs are the highest I’ve ever felt. But the lows…they’re so, so horrible. I will love that man until I’m six feet under. But I don’t think we’re meant to be together, at all.”

  “Like it or not, you’re about to be co-parents together. You’re going to have to figure out how you want to handle it.”

  “I don’t even know what I want anymore.” An uneasy silence descended, and Delaney didn’t rush to fill it. “I keep replaying what Landon said to me. What he said about my own relationship with my parents. He wasn’t wrong, I’ve definitely been avoiding them.”

  Delaney gave me a knowing glance. “Running away never works, does it?”

  “Apparently not.” I wiped at my swollen eyes. “Were you tight with your dad growing up?” Delaney’s father had taken a prison sentence for his daughter. I didn’t even know if mine would take my calls.

  “Yeah. I was the very definition of Daddy’s little girl. I guess I still am. I thought he would want to move away, but he’s been working as an advocate for prison reform and using his experience to help others. Shane and I try to get together with him and Shane’s brother, Gavin, as often as we can.” She tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. “It’s hard not to appreciate people when you’ve almost lost them.”

  When it came to the men in my life, all I’d known was loss. My father was emotionally distant, Adam physically disinterested, and Landon…The man had dumped me, not once but twice.

  I just wanted to be done.

  Landon

  Shania whined anxiously at my feet as I watched Piper’s car pull out of the parking lot. Neither of us moved as we stared out the open door, expecting her to reappear at any second.

  She couldn’t have just left like that. She was coming back. Any second now.

  But seconds turned into minutes. When a car pulled in, a car that wasn’t Piper’s, I shut her door and reached for the Altoids tin tucked into my front pocket. I had two pills out and halfway to my mouth before I realized what I was doing.

  Cursing, I put them back and shoved the tin deep in my jeans, feeling beads of sweat break out at my temples. “Come on, Shania,” I grumbled, crossing the room and collapsing into the closest chair. Shania followed dutifully, putting her head on my knee and staring at me with a pair of sad, soulful eyes.

  “You look how I feel,” I said to the dog, patting her head and scratching behind her ears.

  How had my life gone so completely off the rails? A few months ago I was living the dream.

  Wasn’t I?

  Fuck. Who was I kidding?

  No, I wasn’t.

  I hadn’t been happy living the rock star life, banging and boozing and basically avoiding anything that required more than just my physical presence or skills with sticks.

  I was a kid that had been taken away from my own parents by Child Protective Services. They could have fought for me, wanted me back enough to get off the crack and meth that eventually killed them. But they didn’t.

  So maybe I was meant only for the stage. Pounding out a beat that filled my soul, sharing the only good thing I had with the world.

  Maybe it was all I had. All I’d ever have.

  The Coxes had been the first people to ever give a shit about me. They gave me their love, gave me their name, gave me a brother. And I fucked that up, big time, for all of us.

  Piper had given me her love, too. And I’d screwed that up. Twice.

  And I’d given her something—my child.

  It was the worst thing I could have done.

  My entire history read like a “what not to do” manual on raising a kid. I knew nothing—less than nothing—about being a parent.

  What if I hurt another kid? Put Piper through what Sarah and Mike have had to deal with? What if I really was an addict like my parents? What made me think I’d be better at raising a kid than them?

  Could I live with myself if I destroyed one more life?

  No. I had to protect Piper and our child. Even if I was protecting them from me.

  Especially if I was protecting them from me.

  I shook my head like Shania did when a fly came too close to her ear. This whole situation was crazy. A few months ago, Piper said she didn’t want kids, wasn’t cut out for motherhood.

  Her opinion had obviously changed. And I had to wonder, if I didn’t walk in when I did—would she have told me at all?

  Maybe that would have been for the best.

  Because Piper was right.

  I’d been hiding my entire life. Hell, I still had the scars to remind me what happened when I’d emerged from the closet and interrupted one of my parents drug-fueled “parties.” The scars were covered by tattoos now, but I’d learned how to hide at a very early age.

  I’d even learned how to hide in the spotlight. Using it as a goddamn shield to keep anyone from getting too close.

  Somehow Piper had pulled me out. Not to steal the limelight, or even to share it. No, she wanted no part of fame or notoriety for herself. She had only wanted me.

  And now Piper was going to have a piece of me forever.

  They say that if you don’t learn from history, you are doomed to repeat it.

  That warning settled on me like black soot, the plain truth of it choking me. Coating my throat, searing my lungs, burning my skin, dimming my sight.

  I should have tattooed a warning sign across my chest. I was a danger. A hazard. The best thing for Piper, for the baby we’d made together, was to leave them alone. For their own good.

  I loved her too much to keep hurting her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Landon

  I wallowed in a fog of disgust that turned even Piper’s perfectly ordered apartment into an ugly, messy blur until Shania let out a soft yelp, nudging my knee with her wet nose.

  Groaning, I picked up Shania’s leash from the coffee table and clipped it to her collar. “Let’s go, girl.”

  I opened the door to my truck and Shania jumped right in while I tossed the pills I’d resisted earlier into my mouth.

  Relief coated my agitated nerves at the first bitter crunch, soothing their fraying edges. If I couldn’t have Piper, if I couldn’t build a life with her and our child, at least I could make myself numb to what I was missing.

  The problem was—they didn’t work as well as they used to. I’d stopped keeping track of how many I took in a given day. But I knew it was taking more and more to bring me any sense of peace at all
. The temporary high fading faster and faster.

  Now that my grip was back, I’d started adding alcohol to the mix. Just a little bit, to broaden the high, quiet the relentless noise inside my mind. I hadn’t brought any with me though, so I pulled into a liquor store a few blocks from my apartment, grabbing two handfuls of the mini bottles they kept by the register.

  The chick behind the counter lit up as if she’d won the lottery. “Landon Cox!”

  I couldn’t even dredge up the ghost of a smile. “In the flesh,” I gritted out.

  She licked her lips, pushing her chest so far over the counter I thought she might topple over. I moved the pile of plastic bottles closer to the register. “Just these.”

  She covered up her streak of disappointment with a toss of her head, then made a show of opening up a paper bag and slowly—agonizingly slowly—scanning each bottle. “My boss doesn’t usually get here for another hour…” she said, pausing halfway through.

  “Sorry,” I lied. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

  “Oh.” She added the last of the bottles to the bag and before I could shove cash at her, she dropped a business card into it. “My number’s on the back—call me and we can party.”

  Party. I needed to party like I needed a hole in my head.

  I slammed the door to my truck, chasing a shot of Jack Daniel’s with Johnnie Walker. “Don’t judge,” I grumbled, spotting Shania giving me the side eye.

  Although, maybe I was wrong. If I couldn’t have Piper, I might as well reinstall that revolving door on my damn zipper. Now that I could actually work my zipper again.

  But not even the taste of liquor could wash away the stench rising up my throat when I thought about another woman. I wanted my Pippa. Only my Pippa.

  Goddamn it. I chugged a mini-bottle of tequila on the highway, nearly gagging.

  Was this it? Was this going to be my life?

  Just as the question wrapped around my head like a vise, the alcohol hit my bloodstream and combined with the Vicodin, snapping the tension in two.

  I took a deep breath, lowering the windows. Shania poked her head out, looking significantly happier now that she had access to fresh air that wasn’t polluted by my unease. I kept my speed steady, my truck in one lane. It would take more than three shots to put me over the limit on a Breathalyzer, but with the pills in my system, I knew I shouldn’t be driving.

  Not wanting to be tempted by any more bottles, I tossed the paper bag in the backseat, driving the rest of the way coasting on the high I already had.

  The only bright spot in this disaster of a day was pulling into Harmony’s and noticing the Coxes’ car in the parking lot. I’d nearly forgotten. Today was the day they were picking up the last of Shania’s puppies. Jake was finally getting his dog.

  Turning off the ignition, I decided to have another couple of pills. And another of the bottles. They were tiny, anyway. They probably didn’t do anything at all. Might as well be drinking Kool-Aid.

  Fuck. I hadn’t had Kool-Aid in…I tried to remember, my mind bouncing over a bumpy road of memories. But they were elusive, and I couldn’t pin them down.

  I shrugged, reaching for Shania’s leash as I hauled my body through the door. But my fingers felt uncoordinated, and the leash slipped away from me. My feet felt strange, too, like they’d fallen asleep on the way over. How many pills had I had today? Two since leaving Piper’s apartment…or was it more? And before that— I stumbled getting out of my truck, my knees smashing into the gravel.

  There was a blur of fur to my right, and Shania jumped over me.

  Fuck. I struggled to my feet, turning toward the barn. She must have headed there, she would be fine.

  But when I looked in that direction, I didn’t see her.

  Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I spun in a circle, ignoring the dizziness that pulled at my equilibrium. There. I spotted a brown blur running into a grove of trees bordering Harmony’s property. I lurched toward it, finding myself surrounded on all sides by tall branches in minutes.

  “Shania!” I screamed the dog’s name, fighting back an image of Piper’s face if I had to tell her I’d lost her dog. Or that she’d been run over by a passing car on my watch. Or killed by a wild animal. “Shania!” I screamed her name again. And again and again and again. Until I was hoarse. Until my vocal cords were nearly paralyzed with desperation.

  Typical. So fucking typical. I couldn’t even keep a damn dog safe. Any not just any damn dog. Piper’s dog.

  After what felt like hours, but I hoped to hell had only been minutes, I knew I needed reinforcements. Harmony and I would organize a search party, and maybe the other dogs could track Shania’s scent.

  But when I emerged from the trees, I realized I wouldn’t need to. Jake was walking toward me, holding the end of a leash. Two leashes, actually. Mike and Sarah flanked him, and Harmony was striding just ahead.

  “Hey, there,” she called, lifting a hand. “Shania came tearing into the barn and we figured you had to be around here somewhere.” Unaware that I’d been on the verge of a mental breakdown less than a minute ago, she grinned at me. “What were you doing in there—taking a leak or something?”

  I coughed. “Uh, yeah.”

  Jake kept walking toward me, Shania and one of her offspring looking like they were just out for their daily stroll. I figured Jake would come to a stop by Harmony, like he usually did. Instead he walked straight past her, planting himself solidly by my side as the dogs wrapped their leashes around our legs.

  I looked into the guileless face I’d always loved but had avoided for too many years, then at Sarah and Mike, and finally back at Harmony.

  Grinning, I fought a wave of dizziness by clamping a hand down on Jake’s shoulder. Startled, he made a squealing noise and tried to run back to Sarah and Mike. But the leashes were tangled around his legs, and he tripped. He fell and started to cry.

  “I—I’m sorry.” I backed up, not knowing what to do. But then I tripped over a dog, falling on my ass.

  And that’s exactly what I felt like. An ass.

  What the fuck was I doing—trying to numb myself? Doing my damnedest to dim the brightness that had finally come back into my life?

  I was going to ruin everything. Again.

  Mike went to comfort Jake, Harmony untangled the leashes, and Sarah knelt down by my side. “Landon…”

  She didn’t have to say anything else. I felt the weight of her disappointment sitting on my chest, making each breath a struggle.

  I cleared my throat, fighting against the greedy clutch of booze and pills, my head hanging heavy on my neck. “I’m sorry.”

  She took my hand in hers and waited until I lifted my face to meet her concerned gaze. “You’re better than this, Landon. All the apologies in the world won’t change that.”

  “It’s all I’ve got right now.”

  “That’s not true. You’ve got us. And we’ve got you, too.”

  The sky was clear, but there was a buzzing in my brain, as if I’d been struck by lightning. I wasn’t alone anymore. And I didn’t want to be.

  I turned to Harmony. “You work with rehab places, right? I mean, not just physical therapy centers. Places that treat substance abuse.”

  She nodded, her expression neutral. “Of course. I’ve brought therapy dogs to just about everywhere in a hundred miles.”

  “I think I need to go somewhere. And not just a glorified celebrity vacation spot.” I swallowed heavily, glancing back at Jake when panic drenched my nerves. “I need help.”

  And more than one reason to get it.

  I didn’t want to be numb anymore, or hide in the spotlight.

  The guys in the band were my family, and they always would be. But I wanted more. I wanted to be a son, and a brother.

  A father.

  And I was sure as fuck going to get Piper back, too.

  Piper

  Rather than call ahead, I decided to surprise my mother.

  I timed my visit for late morning, expect
ing to find her outside in the backyard, gardening shears in hand. Instead, what I found was a FOR SALE sign out front and a real estate agent waiting at the door.

  What the…?

  My mother and I didn’t speak often, but surely she would have told me if she was selling the house?

  “Hi, I’m Piper. Piper Hastings.”

  “Ah, the daughter from California? How wonderful to meet you,” she enthused.

  “Yeah, same here,” I stuttered, caught off guard. “Um,” I chewed my lower lip, glancing around at the empty street, “are my parents at home?”

  “Normally, I tell my clients not to attend their open houses, but your mother”—her slanted smile hinted at disapproval—“wasn’t quite ready to leave. I think she’s somewhere out in the garden.”

  I mumbled a “thanks,” deciding against walking inside and through the back door. Something told me the real estate agent wouldn’t have approved of that either.

  Striding along the perimeter of the house, it appeared as well tended as always, but there was something different about it, too. How long had it been since I’d been back in Bronxville? Two years, maybe three?

  When I came to New York for work, I sometimes extended my trip an extra day. My mother would meet me in the city for dinner and a Broadway show. My father rarely joined us, and I was always glad. The air was less burdened without the weight of his disappointment, my mother more comfortable beyond his watchful gaze. What he was watching for, I’d never known. For as long as I could remember, everything she did revolved around the man. His wants, his needs, his rules.

  I’d run to California to get away from all that.

  But I hadn’t intended to run away from my mother. I loved her. And even though I didn’t like my father very much, I loved him, too, in a way I couldn’t quite understand.

  In a matter of months, I was going to be a mother myself. It was crazy and terrifying and exciting, all wrapped up in a package I couldn’t quite get my head around. Ready or not, it was happening.

  And I wanted to share the news with my own mother.