Page 68 of When Stars Fall

“Do you think?” I ask and then stand. “I need to get out of here.”

“It’s a madhouse out there.”

“It’s, like, four in the morning. How bad can it be?” Which is a stupid question because I’ve been in enough media scrums to understand exactly how bad it could be. But we’re in Bermuda, far from most media outlets.

“It’s bad. I’ve never seen this many news outlets on the island. I have no idea how they got here. Private planes, maybe.”

“They realize I’m here?” The TMZ reporter on the screen is at the front entrance of the hotel shooting live footage. “I guess so.” I cross my arms. “When did you say you knew?”

“When Ellie was six months pregnant.”

Her words are a punch to the gut.

“It’s a well-guarded secret on the island.” Calshae’s voice is quiet. “I tried to talk her into telling you. You deserved to know. Ellie finally got tired of hearing me say what she didn’t want to hear and stopped calling me to hang out, stopped responding to the messages I sent her. I let our friendship go. Friendships don’t always blow up, sometimes they fade away.”

“How old would Haven have been?” I squint.

“Only a few months old. Years later, I wondered if I should have tried harder. Maybe our rift wasn’t about you.”

Ellie came to see me when Haven was only a few months old. The friendship split and Ellie visiting LA are probably connected. Maybe she finally took Calshae’s advice and seeing me didn’t lead to the outcome she’d wanted. So many things I don’t understand. “This is hurting my brain.” I run my hands through my hair in frustration. “The gym. I need to beat the shit out of something.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“We pass the bar to get there. I’ll come with you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You already asked about alcohol. Doesn’t seem like your brain is in a great place at the moment. Why do you suppose she didn’t tell you all those years ago?” Calshae raises an eyebrow.

“Not just all those years ago—anyof the years.” I scoff. “Any of them. She had ten years to tell me.”

“Okay, so why didn’t she?”

I sigh, frustrated with her, with Ellie, with myself. “Because I was an addict who made bad choices. Took a lot of risks when I was high. Did stupid stuff a lot of the time. I understand the reasons. Doesn’t mean I’m not pissed off at the choice she made.”

“Let me tag along with you today to make sure you don’t do something impulsive and stupid to ruin this chance. ’Cause you still have one. You’ll have a chance to spend time with your daughter, and I’m sure Haven would love that too.”

I swallow a lump in my throat as Haven’s hints about her father flick through my mind like a photo album. “I want that.” My voice is a rasp.

“I know. I know. Let’s hit the gym. Beat the shit out of some stuff with your fists . . . instead of reporters with the bottom of a Jim Beam bottle.” She gets up and motions for me to do the same.

“You watched that video on YouTube?” I stand too, wearily.

“A few times. It was actually one of the funnier ones.”

“Jesus, what must my kid think of me?” There are so many things on the internet I’m not proud of, so many poor decisions that I made when I was too out of it to realize I was being filmed.

Calshae’s dark eyes search my face. She pats my back. “Ellie’s a good mom. I’m sure Haven has a high opinion of you. She’d never want your daughter to think badly of you.”

I grab some workout clothes from the suitcase, and before I disappear into the bathroom I say, “I guess we’ll see.”

I hit the bag in the gym over and over. Calshae runs on the treadmill, avoiding me. I beat the bag like I should have beaten myself ten years ago. My mind wanders between being amazed Ellie and I have a child together to being furious at myself, at her, to wanting to kill someone, anyone.

Calshae checks her phone and glances at me. She frowns, and I sigh.

“What?” I hit the bag harder and harder. The sound almost blocks out her reply.

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