Page 36 of When the Storm Breaks
Shiloh cleared her throat. “Who’s Hayley?”
“My best friend. We’re getting married someday.” Noah tugged on my hand with his sticky one. “Daddy, answer the door.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Shiloh asked me.
“You can stay,” Noah said. “Daddy wants you here. Right, Daddy?” I looked down at his upturned face then over at Shiloh.
“Stay. Go. It’s your call.”
Chapter Ten
Shiloh
My Nikes poundedthe dirt trail, and I pushed myself harder, my thighs burning as I set a punishing pace on the hilly terrain. I hated running but it was good cardio, and I didn’t have access to a gym or my personal trainer. Besides, as I’d demonstrated time and again, I was good at running.
It had been two days since I’d run away from Brody’s house. From the kitchen, I’d heard Meredith’s voice and started shaking uncontrollably. As if she’d take one look at me and somehow know I was the girl who had abandoned her own baby. As if she’d know I was Hayley’s birth mother. Which was ridiculous. She had no idea who I was. No reason to think I’d come looking for my daughter six and a half years after I gave her up. Hayley didn’t even look like me. She looked like Dean.
All I’d wanted was to spend time with Hayley and when the opportunity had presented itself, I panicked and blew it. When had I become such a coward?
Sweat poured down my face and my sports tank stuck to my skin, but I forced myself to keep running. Like everything about Texas, the sky was bigger, and the sun was brighter here. Last night I watched the stars from the back porch, and I worked on the song I was writing.Rolling Stonehad stated that the recurring themes in my music were heartbreak, loneliness, and disenchantment.
I didn’t know if that was accurate. I just wrote whatever I was feeling at the time. Whatever moved me or grabbed hold of me and wouldn’t let go until I put it into chords and lyrics. I always found it interesting to hear which songs spoke to someone. What did Ridge hear when he listened to “The Ghost of You?”
Dean and I wrote that song as a duet two years ago. It was the last one we ever wrote together. The song told the tale about the end of a relationship. About loving the idea of someone more than you loved the actual person. About trying to hold on to something, or someone, even when you knew they weren’t good for you because you were too scared to let go. It was about addiction and toxic relationships and the toll they took on you and everyone around you. Heartache and loss--the emptiness that cracked your heart wide open. When we sat down to write the song, Dean had just come out of thirty days in rehab and was more vulnerable than he’d ever been.
The song was raw and gritty and honest, something Dean rarely was when he was jacked up on coke or drunk and belligerent. But when Dean was stone cold sober, he was always sorry. He’d apologize and act repentant until I forgave him. It was a vicious cycle we’d repeated more times than I could count. When we released the single, Dean had second thoughts about putting it out in the world. Once it was out there, there was no going back. The music didn’t belong to us anymore. It belonged to everyone who listened and felt a connection with it.
After the album dropped, we went on tour. Our last tour together. It was no small feat that we all made it out alive. All we did was fight and argue. The whole atmosphere had been so claustrophobic and so fraught with tension, it felt like I was suffocating the whole time. By then, Dean had asserted himself as the lead singer and I only sang on a few tracks. The rest of the time I was his backup singer and guitarist.
I hadn’t been living the dream. I’d barely been making it through each day. The drugs and the drinking, the fame and the money and all the groupies and fan girls that found their way into bed with Dean and Landry and Gus, had been too much to handle. When I finally said I couldn’t take it anymore, Landry chose Dean and the band over me, showing me exactly where his loyalties lay. The guys resented me for leaving and going solo but if I hadn’t, that lifestyle would have destroyed me.
Now I was a solo artist, hoping and praying I’d live up to the hype surrounding my debut album. The bigger you got, the higher you climbed, the harder the fall. Icouldn’tfail. Iwouldn’t.
I crested a hill, having reached my destination, and dropped to the ground, panting from the exertion of running. When I caught my breath and my heart rate started to slow down, I unscrewed the lid of my water bottle and drank greedily. The Texas sun was no joke. After I drank my fill, I lifted a small pair of binoculars to my eyes that I’d bought the other day and searched for the wild mustangs. America’s living legends.
I zoomed in on a rider on horseback. Brody. What the hell was he doing? He was leading another horse alongside him as he rode hell for leather. Crazy cowboy. I followed his progress as he rode across the valley, through the brush and skirted around a limestone formation. The land he kept the wild horses on was more rugged than the rest of his land and parts of it looked like the desert. The way the sun hit him made him shimmer like gold. Like an apparition or a mirage. He and the horse he was leading rode right through a creek that meandered through the trees. After that, I lost sight of him and lowered the binoculars, wishing I could have captured that scene on a video and set it to music.
I sat under the shade of the tree and drank my water until the sweat dried on my skin and my flushed cheeks cooled. Then I stood up and I ran back the way I’d come. When I reached the end of the dirt trail, I looked over at the barn as Brody rode up with the other horse in tow and stopped in front of a tall, lanky man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. After Brody dismounted, his eye caught mine and he tipped his chin in greeting. I gave him a little wave then turned left and headed back to the guesthouse.
Brody’s life was here. Mine wasn’t. It would be stupid to think we could ever mean anything to each other. What was the point in getting close to someone only to leave them in five weeks’ time? But still. A big part of me hoped he’d seek me out. That he’d actually want to spend time with me without my having to chase after him or insinuate myself into his life.
I hadn’t decided what I would do about Hayley yet but maybe next time, if there was a next time, I’d have the courage to face her.
* * *
I sufferedfrom insomnia on and off, but lately I was barely sleeping at night. I guess I’d always been a night owl. It went along with the job. After a performance, I was too keyed up to sleep. So I’d gotten in the habit of napping whenever I could. After I got back from my run, I took a shower, changed into cut-offs and a T-shirt and fell into bed. What felt like five minutes later, I was woken by a knock on the door.Again.
Without bothering to ask who it was, I swung the door open, expecting to see Brody. My smile slipped. A pretty brunette with green eyes gave me a smile.
“Hi. Sorry to barge in on you. I’m Lila. I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself. Ask if you needed anything...” Her voice trailed off.
I cleared my throat. “I’m good. Thanks. I’m... Viv.”
“Viv,” she repeated, nodding her head. “Right. Um... you met my son, Noah the other day. He seems to think...” She stopped and laughed then shook her head. “Never mind. Six-year-olds have wild imaginations.”
“You’re Noah’s mom?” She nodded. Oh wow. Okay. This just got interesting. Was Brody still in love with her? Was that why he only did casual hookups? “So... what did Noah think?”
She laughed. “Just forget I said anything.” She lifted the bag in her hand. “I brought you a Welcome to Cypress Springs present.”
