Hawk and Dove (Rock Star Romance Novel) (20 page)

The chime of the doorbell cuts off my hateful spree. We all
look toward the front door, torn from the heated moment at hand. Mom rises from
the couch, staggering a bit under the pressure of the situation, and makes her
way to the door.

“I suppose...I’ll get it,” she says, dazed by the bizarre
situation that’s cropped up in her living room.

Kate puts her arm around my shoulders as we stare down our
father across the room, frozen in a tense tableau. His plastered-on smile is
beginning to weaken under the force of our distaste. I hear Mom pull open the
front door behind us.

A small, strangled sound of shock escapes her, and I tear my
eyes away from Dad to see what’s wrong. She’s standing before the open doorway,
her hand raised to her mouth in speechless wonder.

“Mom?” I say, edging toward her, “Mom, who is it?”

Chapter Fifteen

All of a sudden, I feel like a fifteen-year-old boy again.

I shuffle my feet and smile gamely at the woman I have to
assume is Ellie’s mother. She’s staring at me, wide-eyed, and I get the feeling
that my presence is not particularly welcome at the moment. I wonder if Ellie’s
already told her family to turn me away on sight, or if she’s so devastated
that her mom and sister will never be able to give me a chance.

I knew it was a crazy idea, coming all the way here after
Ellie fled the festival, but the sheer madness of my actions is just starting
to sink in.

“Mom?” says a voice from within the house. My heart slams
hard against my ribs as I realize that it’s Ellie speaking.

“Mom, who is it?”

“I...You...” the mother stutters, standing perfectly still
in the doorway.

“Hi, Mrs. Jackson,” I venture. I very nearly bow, this whole
interaction feels so formal. “We haven’t met. But I’m—”

“Trent?”

My eyes land on Ellie, peering around her mother’s frozen
form. She looks absolutely beside herself, and a jolt of guilt sears my every
nerve. I'm responsible for upsetting her like this, after all. I hold her gaze,
trying to communicate without any words how sorry I am for screwing things up
between us.

“Who’s out there?” says a deep voice from within.

“Mom, give us a minute,” Ellie says, hurrying out onto the
porch. Pale and shaken, she closes the door as her mother retreats into the
house. She turns to face me, and I can see full well that she’s rattled to the
core.

“Ellie,” I breathe, “What’s—”

But the words are knocked out of my mouth as she rushes
toward me and throws herself into my arms. I catch her gratefully, wrapping her
up in a tight embrace. We stand there together, fervent in our silence, and
drink in the comfort of each other’s bodies. I never knew before meeting Ellie
how much power there could be in a simple embrace. There are lots of things I
never knew before meeting her.

She clasps her hands around my neck and looks up at me,
blinking back tears. “You’re here,” she says, a bit bewildered, “How...?”

“I believe this belongs to you,” I say, producing her wallet
from my back pocket.

“My...I drove all the way here without...? Well. Super,” she
says, taking the item from me. I can tell that she’s completely overwhelmed,
beside herself with about a thousand conflicting emotions.

“Ellie, I’m so sorry,” I tell her, placing my hands on her
hips, “I’m sorry about the pictures, and about Kelly, and about Mitch. I’m
sorry that I can’t just be good to you without dragging you through the media
mud with me. You deserve so much better than that. And what happened between
us...if it was too rushed, if you felt pressured, just do me a favor and slug
me in the jaw, OK?”

“Trent,” she says softly, laying a protective hand on my
cheek, “I would never do anything to that jaw of yours. That jaw’s a national
treasure.”

I smile, amazed at her unrelenting sense of humor. “So, you
don’t hate me?”

“Of course not,” she says.

“That’s...great. I mean, I had like three more minutes of
speech prepared to get you to forgive me, but I—”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” she says, “I got scared.
Everything was happening so fast. With you, with the media, and the fame...I
panicked. I know nothing happened with between you and that bitch. I shouldn’t
have taken that out on you.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think this is uncharted
territory for us both,” I tell her.

“Oh, good. Something we’re both oblivious about, for a
change,” she laughs weakly. As I watch, her expression becomes strained once
more.

“What is it?” I ask, lifting her chin.

“God...I don’t even know where to begin,” she says, shaking
her head.

“Is it something between us?” I ask warily.

“No! Well, not really...It’s so messed up, Trent.
Everything’s just going to hell all at once.”

“Did something happen?” I ask insistently.

“It’s...my dad,” she says finally.

“Your dad...” I say, realizing that I know absolutely
nothing about her family. I suppose we didn’t quite get to the unveiling of our
closeted skeletons back at the festival. “Is he sick?”

“No,” she says, “He’s...Here.”

“He’s not...usually?”

“Not since I was a kid,” she tells me, “I got back here, and
he was waiting for me. Unannounced. After all this time. Apparently, he’s been
following my escapades from afar, and decided to come get a slice of the action
for himself. He’s still in there, and I don’t know what to do...I don’t know
how to make him leave.”

“He won’t leave?” I ask, feeling a deep, protective fury
rising within me.

“No,” she says, growing angry herself, “He’s just parked
himself on the couch like he owns the goddamned place. The sight of him is
making me sick, I swear to god...”

“I think I can help,” I tell her, “I have some experience
with dads who would be better off gone.”

“Trent, you shouldn’t have to get involved with this,” she
says.

“I don’t have to do anything,” I tell her, “I want to help,
in whatever way I can. Will you let me do that?”

She nods, slowly. I can tell that she’s uncomfortable
heaping this kind of responsibility on me. If only she knew what lengths I
would go to make her life just a little bit better, a little bit easier.

I’m quickly coming to understand that there’s just about
nothing I wouldn’t do for this woman. And while that thought might scare the
shit out of me, I intend to rush headfirst into it, rather than risk losing her
forever. I square my shoulders as Ellie cracks open the door and leads me into
her home.

All that I want to do the moment I cross the threshold is
take in the place where Ellie grew up. I want to see every old picture, every
scrap of evidence from her childhood. I want to see what her bedroom looks
like, what kinds of cereal are stocked in the cupboard—every insignificant
little piece of information I can get my hands on.

But there are more pressing things to deal with first. I
look into the living room, where a fractured family portrait is waiting.

Ellie’s mom is standing in the center of the room, trying to
keep the scene from imploding. A young woman in scrubs who must be Ellie's
sister is sitting in an old armchair, her face buried in her hands. Ellie
lingers in the doorway, looking back at me nervously. And there, reclined on a
well-loved sofa, is the man who must be Ellie’s father.

His look of unwarranted superiority ignites my already
simmering contempt for him. He’s just the kind of presumptuous,
holier-than-thou, entitled asshole I really can’t stand. I can tell, just by
the way he holds himself, that he’s exactly like my own father—king of the
household, supreme arbiter of the family’s lives, God in his own right (or at
least in his own eyes).

“Well, I’ll be damned!” he says, breaking the thick silence,
“Trent Parker! This certainly is a treat.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I tell him, holding my
ground in the doorway.

“I was just telling Ellie that I’ve been seeing a lot of
news about you two lately,” he continues, picking himself up off the couch. He
extends his hand toward me, and I have a powerful urge to twist it up behind
his back and send him flying through the window. But I restrain myself. That’s
not what Ellie would want.

“Mr. Jackson,” I say, as evenly as I can, “Ellie doesn’t
want you here. She doesn’t want you in her life, and I would appreciate it if
you’d leave.”

“Well,” the man says, his hand still suspended in the air,
“I don’t think that she needs you to fight her battles for her, am I right?”

“I’m not fighting her battle,” I tell him, “I’m just the cavalry.”

“Trent,” he says, crossing the room, “You can’t blame a
father for wanting to reconnect with the family he was so unfortunately
separated from!”

“No,” I say, “But I can blame a father for abandoning his
children, only to come sniffing around when there’s a suddenly a buck to be
made. I’ve been around this particular block myself, Mr. Jackson. And I’m going
to tell you the same thing I’ve told every asshole who’s come out of the
woodwork looking for a piece of me—you can take your phony affection and shove
it so far up your ass that you won’t be able to shit it out for a week. Now,
why don’t you do me a favor and get the hell out of this house?”

“You have no right to talk to me like that,” he says, his
brow furrowing, “This is not your house to command, young man.”

“It’s not yours either,” Ellie says.

“The hell it isn’t!” he shouts back, “Your mother stashed
away the money for this place while she was living on my dime! None of you
would have anything if it wasn’t for me. I brought you girls into this world
with a drawer of silver spoons waiting for you. And how did you all repay me?
By running off and living like rutting pigs, making a damn fool out of me!
You’re all a bunch of ungrateful, selfish, mean little bitches. I deserve a cut
of whatever this one is pulling in. It’s my right as a father. And I’m not
leaving here until I’ve—AHHH!”

I slam the man’s shoulders hard into the hardwood floor,
pinning him beneath me. He struggles to free himself, but he’s no match for me.
I cock back my fist, wanting nothing more than to break that stupid face of his
in two.

“Apologize!” I shout in his flushed face.

“Trent!” Ellie cries, “Don’t hurt him! It’s not worth it.”

“Go ahead,” he sneers up at me, “Hit me! Do some good
damage. I’ll slap you with the biggest lawsuit you’ve ever seen.”

“You’re pathetic,” I snarl, “You’re a sad, washed-up bully
who doesn’t deserve your daughter’s time of day. I hope you know how
outrageously depressing it is to have to humiliate you in front of your family.
Former family. Now, I’m going to tell you one more time. Get out of here. Now,
before I make that lawsuit worth it.”

I push him out from under me with the heel of my foot, and
he scrambles up to standing. His face is beet red from the embarrassment and
exertion, and he glares around the room at all of us.

“This isn’t over,” he says, pointing a finger at my chest.

“It had better be,” I tell him, “Ellie might not be around
to talk sense into me the next time you show up acting like an asshole.”

“Stay away from us,” Ellie’s mother says.

“For good,” her sister puts in.

“You blew it a long time ago, Dad,” Ellie says, “Don’t make
it worse for everyone.”

He looks around at all of us once more, the full scope of
his impotence finally occurring to him.

Without another word, he turns his back and crosses to the
door, slamming it hard behind him. The four of us who remain stand still,
listening as his footsteps ring out across the porch, down to the driveway. A
car engine roars to life, and the sound of pealing tires signals his final
departure. For a minute, we’re all too stunned to speak.

I look around at the three women, at a loss for words. I
haven’t done the whole “meet the family” thing in many years, but this hardly
seems like the conventional way to go about it.

“So...” Ellie says, “Um...I guess I should introduce you
guys?”

“I’m Trent,” I say dumbly, “But I guess you know that...”

“I promise that our home isn’t always so...dramatic,”
Ellie’s mom says.

“Not unless your students are rehearsing,” Ellie replies
with a smile.

“I’m Kate,” says the young woman in scrubs, “Ellie’s sister.
This is our mom. Of course. Um...Welcome to our home?”

“It’s actually very nice to meet you,” I tell them,
“Regardless of the terms.”

“No need to worry,” Ellie’s mom says, “We’re not really a
typical family. No use trying to keep up with normative rituals.”

“Right,” I say.

“So. What exactly are you doing here, Trent?” Kate asks,
cocking an eyebrow. “Barton doesn’t really seem like your scene, based on the
latest pictorial evidence. I think some of the high school kids may be able to
hook you up with some drugs, but other than that—”

“Kate!” Ellie hisses.

“I’m sorry if I’ve given the impression of being
irresponsible. Or disinterested, or...Really any other horrible thing you’re
probably thinking about me,” I say, “I just...I couldn’t let Ellie just
disappear without trying to make things right. So. I guess. That’s what I’m
doing here.”

“And Ellie,” Kate continues, crossing her arms, “Are things
right, now?”

“Kate, give it a rest. After Dad’s guest appearance—”

“I was just asking,” she says.

“I think we could all stand to cool down for a minute,”
their mother says, “Anyone want a beer? We could order pizza! Trent, do you eat
pizza?”

“That’s very nice of you,” I say, ignoring the absurdity of
the suggestion, “But the thing is, I really need to get back to Kansas. I have
another show to play at the festival. And so does Ellie, if I’m remembering
correctly.”