Diary of a Rocker's Kid (D.O.R.K #1) (3 page)

“Cassidy Knox moved into Michael Daley’s mansion and took over all of his affairs,” another commenter says. “She’s the only one who knows the truth about his location, but she’s sworn to secrecy. Something must have happened to make him leave, but nobody knows what. It’s almost like he was chased away.”

Cassidy Knox. That must be Black Angel, the lead guitarist. Now that I know, I recognize the young blonde woman in the clips as
our
Cass, but…Knox? Not Meriwether? And what about this disappearing act? What happened?

“Dad…what the
hell
is this?” I know it’s a dumb response, but at the moment I can’t fabricate anything better.

Dad pauses the video and turns slowly, taking my hands in his and peering into my eyes. “I know this is a lot to take in. I am the front man of W3, as you gathered. You were left on my doorstep in a pretty pink basket by your mother as a baby. I knew you were mine because of your nose, which you undoubtedly got from me.” Dad pauses with an affectionate smirk. Then a darker expression passes over his face. “We…we left because your mother did something bad that forced me to take you away and keep you safe.”

“My mother?” He nods. “What did she do?”

“A lot of terrible things, baby girl.”

My limbs start to tremble, and my chest constricts. If it was bad enough to make Dad leave a music career…

“Is she a criminal or something?”

“Not…exactly…”

“Oh, God…” I drop my head into my hands, hearing my own breath as a roar in my ears. My eyes sting with tears, though I’m not really sure which emotion is causing them. Dad’s a rock star, Cass is a guitarist, and my mother is a ‘not exactly’ criminal. This has to be a dream. It
has
to be.

“What do you think of all this, darlin’?”

“I don’t know what to think…” I lift my head and repeat my question. “What exactly did she do?”

“Well…the truth is, she did leave you on my doorstep, but then she came back for you two months later. We had a visitation agreement for a couple of months, but we kept it quiet because she still wanted to keep her identity a secret from the world. One day, she tried to steal you away durin’ one of her visits.”

“Whoa, whoa, wait…she wanted me back?”

“Yes.”

“She…kidnapped me?”

“Yes, she did. I had mercy on her and didn’t file charges for the kidnappin’, but then she paid me back by tryin’ to take me to court for custody. That was why we got the hell outta Dodge.”

This is too much information to absorb at once. I drop my head back into my hands just to keep from passing out. After my initial shock and a new rush of blood to the brain, one thing after another falls into place.

Dad is famous. I was left in a basket on a rock star’s doorstep by Mother Dearest. She abandoned me, true, but because of the kidnapping and custody threat, I can only assume one thing—Mother Dearest wanted me back. She took extreme measures trying to get me back. This is the total opposite of everything I once believed.

Then one thought screams louder than all the others. Fury overtakes me, and I lift my head. My eyes burn holes in his skull, and when I speak, my voice is dead even and so full of rage that it’s terrifying even in my own ears.

“
You lied to me.
”

Dad doesn’t say a word. He just sits there in stunned, fearful silence.

“I don’t believe this,” I scream, jumping up from my chair. “You waited my entire life to tell me you’re a
fucking rock star
? Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Dad whispers. “I was trying to protect you.”

My hands ball into fists at my sides, gripping at nothing as I try my best to steady myself. My head is reeling, and my emotions are spinning out of control. At risk of sounding completely cliché, I just discovered my entire life is a lie.

“
This
is why I’ve been isolated for so long? This is why I can’t have a normal life?
You’re famous?
”

Dad just nods, clasping his hands in his lap with his gaze glued to the floor.

I cover my mouth with my hands, shaking my head. This is unbelievable. I never thought he’d lie to me like this. My hands fall to my sides again, and a tremor enters my voice. “You…you told me my mother abandoned me without looking back. I’ve felt like the scum of the earth all these years, and now you tell me she was willing to risk
jail
to get me back? How could you tell me that if it wasn’t true?”

“She…” Dad lets out a shaky sigh, looking helpless and vulnerable. “She’s a psychopath, honey. I couldn’t risk you trying to contact her. I can’t trust her to be near you or even know where you are.”

“Do you have
any
idea how much it hurt to think I’d been left like that?”

“Yes. I have my own experience with abandonment,” Dad reminds me pointedly. “It was better for you to think she’d left you for good.”

“But it wasn’t true…nothing was true…not even my last name…” I stagger back, almost tumbling over my chair because my eyes are blinded with tears. “This is crazy.
You’re
crazy! I…I gotta go.” I whirl around and shove past Cass and Nana on my way to the kitchen, and then I thunder out the back door in the direction of the barn.

I run to the barn and shakily unlock the padlock on the door with a key that was hanging on a nail beside it. Then I dart inside and take an electric lantern from a nearby shelf. I turn the lantern on and close the door behind me, and then I climb the ladder to the loft, which is empty except for hay Dad put up here for me. It’s one of my favorite places to go when I need a time-out, and man, do I ever need a time-out right now.

Once I’m safe in the loft, I set the lantern down and squeeze my arms around my waist as I cry hysterically. All the information I just received muddles in my head, and all I can think is
He lied to me!
on repeat as the sobs rack my body. One of the barn cats, Tasha, comes up to nuzzle me, and I lift her into my lap and hold her so tight that she eventually decides she’s had enough and squirms out of my arms. I wrap my arms around my knees and press them to my chest, needing something to hold on to so I don’t go spiraling out of control.

Several hours pass before I finally get up the courage to step foot in that house again. Once I’m inside, I conduct some research on my computer to confirm everything’s true. After yet another jarring revelation, I need a word purge like I never have before.

Chapter 3

April 20, 2015

No Title Is Adequate

I don’t even know how to write this without sounding batshit crazy.

Turns out my entire life—my identity, my childhood, everything I ever held sacred about myself—it’s all a lie. My dad is a rock star. Like a legit, face-paint-wearing, womanizing, rich-as-hell rock star. Our last name was Daley when I was born, and my father, Michael Daley, is the front man of the nineties band W3. People call him the Grim Weeper, or Grim for short.

Cass lives in a mansion in Beverly Hills, California, that belonged to Dad and me before we left the spotlight. Also, I just found out through a Google search that I have my own unfortunate claim to fame. People call me the “Basket Baby” because of the way my mother left me. Being known by the whole world for the way your mother abandoned you…yeah, that sounds about right for my life.

My mother dropped me like a hot potato on Dad’s doorstep in L.A. She even wore a mask to conceal her identity. I knew she abandoned me, but that wasn’t the story I was expecting. I thought maybe she left Dad because he doesn’t work or something, but no. She left me on a doorstep and hoped for the best. I was a rock star’s baby, so she couldn’t have done it because of money problems. I guess having me was just such a terrible burden that I wasn’t even worth the fame, fortune, and golden toilets that came with it.

Kay, maybe not golden toilets…but really…why?

I know she came back for me, but that doesn’t change what she did. I keep wondering what the hell was wrong with me. Something must have been terribly wrong for her to give up the child of a rock star, right? There has to be a reason, because if not, I think I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.

My relationship with Dad is shattered now. I don’t know if I’m ever going to trust him to tell me the truth again. I’m afraid to even be in the same house with him. Even my last name was a lie. I was born Madison Daley, not Madison Landers. For all I know, even that could be a fake name. I can’t even imagine going back to “normal” living after this. I mean…I could have grown up in a mansion.

He said my mother was a psychopath, but I don’t know what to believe right now. If he lied about all these other things, how can I trust him to tell me the truth about that? There’s no way I’m going to be able toface Dad tomorrow when all I want to do i
s
crumple into a fetal position on the floor. What happened tonight changed everything. It turned everything I believed about myself on its head.

I have a sickening feeling in my gut that the worst is yet to come.

Ttyl,

Mads…or whoever the fuck I am…

***

Lying motionless in my bed, I stare at the white popcorn ceiling as the sun comes up and wonder what it must be like to be an inanimate object. It’s gotta be nice not to have any parents or feelings to worry about. If I could transform into one of those bumps on the ceiling right now, I would. I want to go numb and forget about everything that ever happened to me.

After a long time, I hear someone coming down the hall toward my door with a suitcase, so I throw a hoodie on over my
American Idiot
tee and open my door. As the door moves out of the way, I see Cass passing by in a T-shirt and sweats with her luggage.

“Where are you going?” I croak. My voice is an octave lower from the crying and lack of sleep.

“I don’t think Mike is going to want me here anymore after yesterday.” Her face is dragged down by that morning exhaustion that comes after a night full of tears. I guess they must have had a huge fight before they went to bed.

“He may not, but I do.” I cross the hall to hug her, and she lets go of her luggage and holds me tight. “Thank you for making him tell me the truth,” I say with a sniff. Damn teenage hormones…I’m crying again.

“Oh, sweetie…are you okay?” Cass asks with a sympathetic squeeze.

“I don’t know,” I sob. “Am I supposed to be okay?”

“No…no, you can be as sad as you want.” Cass soothes some of my tension with a back rub. She lets me cry it out for a while, and then she says, “I’m so sorry for doing this to you. I didn’t think, I just spoke—”

“No, please don’t apologize.” I detach myself from her to wipe my eyes. “I needed to know the truth.”

“He was going to tell you when you turned eighteen, but…honestly, I think he should have told you a lot sooner. It wasn’t my place, though, and for that, I’m sorry.”

“I’m just glad someone around here has common sense enough to realize I should be told,” I say, and her pretty red lips pull up in a half smile. “By the way, did you change your name too?”

“I agreed to go by a different one whenever I was around you.” Cass rolls her eyes with a ‘whatever’ smirk. “Your dad talked me into it. He said it would seem less suspicious.”

“He put a lot of thought into hiding this from me, didn’t he?” Last night I remembered Dad was the one that steered me away from older bands. He said I should focus on playing more ‘current’ rock. Now I know exactly why he did that.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Cass says, and then we hear a doorknob twist and clatter open and fall dead silent.

Dad trudges out of his room into the hall, groaning and rubbing the back of his neck. He looks like a dad cliché in a plaid robe and big black slippers. “Too early for all this noise,” he growls. Dad is a zombie in the morning if he hasn’t gotten much sleep. He probably didn’t hear what we were talking about, just our voices.

Cass turns around with the fear of losing him evident in her eyes. “Please forgive me,” she begs.

“We’ll talk later,” Dad says, and then he turns to me. “Where were you last night?”

“Just out in the loft…you know, getting a time out from this house of lies.” My gaze is steady with accusation.

Dad’s shoulders droop, and he glances back in the direction of his bedroom. “I think I should have stayed in there.”

My voice is broken and whisper-soft. “Please don’t hide from me anymore.
Please
.”

Pain registers in his eyes, and then he turns to Cass. “Can I talk to her privately?” he asks. Cass nods and quickly tiptoes down the stairs.

Dad takes my hand, leads me to my room, and shuts the door behind us. He settles in front of me with the same steady gaze he held with me last night, and I pull my hand away to fold my arms. “Look…I know what I did sounds completely crazy. I know it’s gonna be a while before you understand—”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to understand this.” I try to be strong and not break down in tears again. “I feel like I lost my whole life. Seventeen and a half years, just…gone. I don’t even know who either of us is right now.”

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry I had to lie to you. She was gonna take you away. I couldn’t let that happen. I know it seems like what I did was terrible, but…maybe I can explain.”

“Please do.”

Dad takes me to my bed, and we sit down side by side as he continues his story. “Well, I found out after the kidnappin’ that because of my past with drugs, your mother could easily prove I was an unfit parent in court.”

My jaw drops a little. “You have a past with drugs?”

“Yeah.” He nods with a guilty expression. “I mean, I haven’t taken any drugs at all since the night she dropped you off, and I tried to stop drinkin’ and smokin’ too. I’ve never gone back except for the occasional drinkin’ session with Cass. You know that’s the truth.”

I nod slowly. He’s right. He’s been clean as a whistle.

“But…because my drug problem was so severe before that, she had an easy case. Courts tend to rule in favor of the mother, and I was just…I was terrified I was gonna lose you forever.” Dad starts to choke up. “I couldn’t let that happen. Your mother is not a good person. She’s…she’s ruthless. She’s connivin’ and evil, and she’ll do anythin’ to get what she wants. I couldn’t let her raise you like that. I couldn’t let her ruin my little girl.”

“Is she really that bad?” I ask in horror and disbelief.

“She seems nice when you meet her, but you quickly find out she’s a real snake in the grass. She’s a celebrity now, and she’s done some horrible things to get where she is today. I felt you’d be better off not knowin’ her, and I was right. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”

“Whoa…
two
celeb parents?”

“Yes.”

“What does she do that’s so bad?”

“Besides lying in court and kidnappin’?” I nod, and Dad continues, “Well, she blackmails people, trades secrets for projects, sabotages other celebrities…you name it, she’s probably done it at one time or another.”

“Wow…” She sounds scary as hell. I can’t help but wonder which celebrity it is. “Who is she?”

“I don’t wanna tell you her name. I don’t want you gettin’ any ideas about tryin’ to go and find her.”

“Wait…you’re still not gonna tell me who my mother is?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re eighteen,” Dad says, and for the first time in my life, I have trouble believing him.

“You promise?”

“I swear on my life, sugar.” I see the sincerity and intensity in Dad’s eyes, and I try to convince myself he’s telling the truth.

“Well…okay,” I say with a shuddering sigh. She does sound like she’s trouble, so I guess I can understand. I wish I could at least know her name, though. It’s going to bother me until I find out. Normally I’d be badgering him about it, but right now, I think I’ve had enough life-altering information for one twelve-hour period.

Dad brings a big tanned paw up to my shoulder and turns me to look square in my eyes. “I know I’ve hurt you bad, but I did what I did to protect you. I hope you understand someday.”

I just shrug in response. I’m still not sure what to think of him.

“Is there anything I can do to make this up to you?”

My gaze darts to the floor as I turn my head away from him. Dad used to be my best friend. I trusted him with my life before. Now I feel a cavern of distance opening up between us, and it scares the living hell out of me. My gaze returns to meet his. “Can you let me have a normal life?”

He shakes his head sadly. “I’m afraid such a thing doesn’t exist for us, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I wish I could. We still need to keep our identities private around here, at least until you’re eighteen. I don’t want her comin’ to find you.”

“So…I’m supposed to lie about who I am? Just pretend to be nothing but a backwoods farm girl for the next six months?”

Dad shrugs. “Basically…yes. I hate to ask you to lie, but Cass just ensured I have no choice in the matter.”

I shake my head, trying to clear space for rational thought. A chuckle squeezes its way out of my tight chest. “This is so unbelievable.”

“Well, I could prove it to you if you want,” Dad offers, and that gets my attention.

“What?”

“I’ll prove I’m the Grim Weeper by performin’ a W3 song for you. Then your doubts will start to fade away.”

In spite of myself, my lips pull up in a half smile. “Well…okay.” Who could turn down an offer like that?

Before Dad sings, he shows me the corresponding W3 music video on my laptop. When the video’s done, Dad says the song would sound better with a guitar, so I fetch him my Gibson off its stand and hand it to him. Dad takes it from me and expertly flings the strap up and around his neck and shoulder. I hand him a pick from the top of my tall, black dresser and plug in the guitar for him, and he takes a deep breath. He seems a little nervous, and his emotions are matched by my thundering heart. If everything I just heard over the last twelve hours is true, and not a dream, a famous rock star is about to give me a private concert in my bedroom.

Dad dives into the intro of the song, and as I watch him, a tsunami of tears rises in my eyes. It’s undoubtedly the same voice I just heard in the video: smooth as honey, yet powerful with a bit of a growl in it. To top it all off, he’s playing the lead guitar part instead of his own. It’s not everyone who can pull off the lead guitar part while singing simultaneously, especially when it wasn’t their part to begin with. The lyrics could use a little work…clearly they were not the reason he had a legion of fans in the nineties. It’s just…
him
. He’s oozing with star quality, and I never even saw it. Dad plays through the entire song, just to prove his point, and when he’s done, I whisper in awe, “You really are him.”

He takes off the guitar and sets it back on the stand, and then he opens his right arm to me. I cross the room to him and break down in tears again. “I’m so sorry, sugar,” Dad says as he wraps me in a tender embrace. I lean weakly against him and sob my eyes out, feeling like my world just ended and began all at once.

***

Later that afternoon, I take Maggie out to a far corner of the property and tie her reins to a tree a few hundred yards from where I’m going to be. My shotgun-toting Southern Daddy made sure I knew how to shoot a gun at fourteen years of age. I have a rifle strapped to my back and several rounds in my hands as I approach our target-practice area. I need a nonviolent way to express all these feelings of anger, heartbreak, and betrayal, and I figured shooting a gong target would be a more satisfying outlet than video games right now.