“Anger is a solid emotion. It’s coarse and rough around the edges, scarring on the inside. Much like life.” ~ Johnny Outlaw
While Dalton stays home reworking his set before his next gig, I decide to go shopping downtown. There were a few boutiques I saw when driving in the week before that I wanted to check out. Not worrying about money in the last few years has been nice, but I still find myself being a bit frugal when it comes to purchasing on a whim. But as soon as I set my eyes on a pink diamond ring, I lose all focus on anything else. I try on the one of a kind design, holding my hand in the air and admiring it. I can’t take my eyes off of it. I would have never guessed that a pink stone would wow me so much, but it has. Unfortunately, the price does not. I walk out of the store empty-handed.
After the disappointment of leaving the ring behind, I’m not in the mood to shop anymore and drive home. “Hello?” I call out when I walk in the front door.
Dalton peeks out from the kitchen. “Hi. You’re home sooner than I expected.”
“Did I walk in on you doing something scandalous?” I tease.
“Yes, this Nutella and Fluff sandwich is very scandalous.” He holds it up just as I walk into the kitchen.
Stealing a bite, I moan in pleasure as I chew. “That’s amazing.”
“It’s all yours,” he says, handing it to me. “But only if you keep moaning like that.” He rearranges his dick.
Apparently it does things to him so I moan again just for kicks. “Thanks and if you keep making me these sandwiches, I promise to do things to you with my mouth.”
Reaching around me, he grabs my ass. “I fucking love your dirty mind and this great ass.”
I try to laugh while keeping my mouth closed since it’s full of food, but it’s a struggle.
He asks, “Why are you home so early? Bored?”
“Shut your mouth! You don’t ever say words like ‘bored’ when it comes to shopping.”
“Why? Will shopping be offended?”
“No, but it kind of jinxes me and I may not find anything cute.”
“Ahhh. Gotcha! That makes sense,” he says, shaking his head, “not at all.”
Making me laugh, I say, “Maybe it’s a girl thing. Anyway, I didn’t find anything cute today, but I did find something gorgeous.”
He pulls out the bread to make another sandwich. “What?”
“This ring. It’s to die for, Dalton. You don’t even understand how amazing it was.”
“Did you buy it?”
“No, I didn’t buy it,” I say, my pitch going up two octaves. “It was almost thirty-thousand dollars.”
“And?”
Is he insane? “And nothing. I can’t spend that kind of money on myself.”
“Why?”
“Because,” I say, trying to find a solid reason when money is no object. With my hands up, I huff. “I don’t know why. Just feels weird.”
“Okay, then I’ll buy it,” he says so easily as if money grows on trees.
Even though for us, money is no object, I try a rational approach. “You can’t just go buy it.”
He looks at me completely confused. “Why not?”
“Because it’s expensive and so beautiful.”
“That’s why you should buy it.”
I’m shaking my head at the ridiculousness of buying something so frivolous just because my heart has totally fallen in love with it. “I can’t.”
“I don’t know why, and honestly I’m too tired to figure it out right now. I’m gonna nap.” He heads upstairs while I finish eating and go into the living room with a glass of water.
I get more horizontal on the couch, a nap sounding way too good to not take one. My laptop is open on the coffee table in front of me. I search for the store’s name and find the ring online. I admire it for a few minutes before my lids get heavy. I close my laptop and fall asleep.
The following day, we head back downtown for Dalton’s second gig. I know he’s hoping for low key again to work out the kinks in the songs, but I’d be surprised if he gets it.
Word’s gotten out that he’s staying in town and the crowd tonight is great—enthusiastic and supportive, though I have no idea how they found out where he was playing.
I can tell the difference in Dalton too. On stage, he’s charismatic and confident, sexy and completely captivating.
In the middle of the first half of the show, I feel the baby kick. Obviously he loves listening to his Daddy play as much as I do.
Life is better than ever.
After the show, I wait in the car as Tommy and Dalton load the gear. Tommy comes over and says, “I need to talk to Johnny for a few minutes.”
“Okay,” I say, wondering why he can’t talk in front of me. But business is business so I start the car, turn on some music to pass the time, and check email on my phone.
“No!” I hear Dalton say, catching my attention. I turn back over my shoulder to see what’s going on. They stand at the back of the car and like the last time I saw them like this, their body language is tense. Dalton turns his back to the car and paces away and back again. Both hands are planted loudly on the trunk and he looks down. “Fuck that!” he says harshly. Looking up, our eyes briefly connect, but something in his eyes hits me hard. I turn back, scared to what would upset him so much. I can’t hear anything once I face forward, but I dare to peek into the rearview mirror. Tommy is using his hand to make a point. Tommy nods and says something that makes him shake his hand. I look away again when my stomach tightens, a bad feeling taking over my gut. The passenger door opens and Dalton gets in. “Let’s go.”
“Everything okay?” I ask wearily.
As if he’s flipped a switch, he reassures, “Fine. You ready?”
“Yeah.” I drive forward. Something’s going on. I want to ask, but after the wonderful time we’ve had here, I’m afraid of the answer I might get. But I hate secrets more, especially his. Glancing from the road to him and back again, I say, “We never talked about whatever it was back in LA. Do you remember?”
I think I hear him gulp, but I’m not sure. When I stop at a red light, I turn to him. He says, “I should have told you by now, but things aren’t how they should be, yet.”
“So you’re wanting to wait to talk about it?”
He sighs and cracks his window, the air in here feeling stifling to me too. “Is that an option?”
The light turns green and my gaze goes forward as the car moves. “When it comes to you, I must have the patience of a saint.”
His fingers weave into my hair and he scratches lightly. It feels, reassuring in an odd way. “Thank you.”
“Soon?”
“Ish.”
“Okay. I’ll give you soon-ish.”
The following day I have an appointment up in North Austin. I find the shopping center easily and spend two hours with the owner of a store who I convince to carry the Limelight line of tees. Afterwards, I wander around the shopping center enjoying the nice day. When I turn a corner to go back to my car, I’m met with two men carrying long lens cameras. I immediately lower my head, avoiding them as much as I can. But I don’t recognize where I am, so I head back the way I came. The paps take turns calling my name, approaching me, coming too close to feel safe.
Like in Los Angeles, the harassment begins. “Mrs. Outlaw?”
“Holli?”
“How’s the baby? Will Sebastian be there for the birth?”
I pull my sweater tighter over my body, protecting my baby from their prying eyes and walk faster. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.
One of them bumps my arm and the sound of the camera going off is just behind my head. They’re too close and I grip my purse tighter.
“How does Johnny Outlaw feel about raising Sebastian’s baby?”
My anger rises in reaction to their disgusting behavior. Fuck them! I pick up my pace and finally reach another parking lot, but I don’t recognize it either. Shit! I turn around, not sure where I parked. While I look for a directory of the high-end shopping center, they continue tormenting me.
“Are you going to stay in Texas after the birth?”
“Guess you and Johnny are even now. You have the Lassiter love child and Johnny will soon have a baby with Ashley Dellacord.”
My feet stop moving as his words trickle into my mind and I process what he just said. And soon Johnny will have a baby with Ashley.
“Have you decided to stay by his side like he did for you?”
Ashley Dellacord.
“What?” I ask, dumbly. My eyes fill with tears as I stand there, glued to the spot, their words slicing into me and tearing my heart apart.
“Ashley is suing for child support and the band for sexual harassment. Her lawyers say they have a solid case. Will you stand by Johnny through the trial?”
Ashley’s pregnant.
Johnny’s baby.
My knees go weak and I rush to the nearest space to get away from them before I collapse.
I hear the flicker of their cameras and I look around, unsure in which direction to go. I run to a corner on the side of a store that houses a back door for deliveries. My head starts to spin as the reality of their words hit me. I grip the wall with one hand and the baby with the other. “Leave me alone!” I shout. I try to stop the tears that are threatening, but they fall, streaming down uncontrollably. Like a gun, their lenses rapid fire in my direction, the flashes become strobe lights temporarily blinding me. “Please stop!” I beg. “Please.”
“Just one photo with a smile that we can sell?”
The other guy says, “The sobbing pics always pull in the bigger paychecks, man. Keep shooting.”
A hand touches my shoulder and I scream. When I turn, his hands go up in surrender. “Miss, can I help you?”
I scan his uniform—property security. Grabbing hold of his arm, I plead, “Yes. Please help me get out of here. I can’t find my car.”
“I can help you find it. Come with me.” Releasing his arm, the tears stop, though the burning in my eyes remains. I follow him, but before I turn the corner, I look back at the paps. Another guard is escorting them off the premises. Taking a deep breath to calm the commotion inside, I feel safer though my heart is shattered over the news.
The guard helps me find my car and as soon as I get in, I lock the doors, rest my head against the steering wheel, and cry again. I cry this time not from fear for me or my baby, but over the devastation that our life is about to be destroyed again. But if they found me once, they’ll be on the hunt again. So I search the glove box and the console for a tissue, but when I don’t find one, I lift my shirt and wipe my eyes before starting the car and making the long drive home.
The words those scumbags shouted at me, that they taunted me with, play on a loop. I turn on the radio to block out the noise in my head, but when The Resistance comes on, I click it off immediately. The last thing I need to hear is Dalton singing of his love for a hazel-eyed girl. I wipe away the wetness on my cheek and sniffle. Peeking into the rearview mirror I see my mascara is under my eyes. When I turn back to the road, I gasp, swerving, my nerves taking over as my car veers.
As soon as my car is righted, I pull over on the first street I come to, needing a moment to collect myself. But I can’t fight it. I burst into tears again, leaning my head against the steering wheel. When I look up, I slam my hands down, banging on the steering wheel. “Damn it!” I just can’t believe this is happening just when I thought we were back on track. Does he know? Is this what he needed to talk to me about, but couldn’t? This is what he and Tommy were talking about. I just know it!
My wedding ring catches the light, sending little reflections of rainbow lights around the car. Leaning my head back against the rest, I close my eyes and take a deep breath in and exhale slowly. When I feel calm enough to drive again, I pull out and head home.
An hour later I’m sitting in the driveway, scared to face Dalton, scared to lose what we had just gotten back. But I have to face reality, so after about ten minutes, I get out. The walk to the front door, though only twenty feet or so, is torturous.
He lied.
I realize that now. He lied to me to get me back. I know myself well enough to know that I won’t be able to get past this. I’m not strong enough to fight for us alone. There’s no getting past the lie Dalton told me. Those guys knew before me. The entire world knew before me. The rage inside ceases any other emotion from taking over and when I look down at the ring on my finger, I feel sick to my stomach.
The door flies open when I walk through. It bounces off the doorstop and slams closed behind me. When Dalton appears from the bedroom, he says, “Hey there, how’d it go?”
I believed him.
I’m a fucking fool.
I glare at him, my breath crushing my chest then filling uncomfortably. “Tell me the truth, Dalton.”
His expression changes, his body stilling as the realization that I know comes over him. The panic in his eyes insults my intelligence as if he could control this, as if he could hide this from me forever. “The truth about what?” His tone is cautious as he remains distanced from me.
One word. “Ashley.”
The color drains from his face. “It’s not what you think.”
“What do I think?” Raising my voice, I yell, “Tell me what I think.”
“I swear I didn’t sleep with her. I swear to God, I didn’t.”
“You stand here before me swearing to God? You have some nerve. Her case is solid. She wins and I lose. I lose everything.”
“Baby, please. Just listen to me—”
“Listen to you? What, now that you’ve been caught? Would you have ever told me?” He comes closer, but I back up, throwing my arms defensively in front of my body. “Don’t come near me.”
“It’s not my baby, Holliday.” His tone falters between stern and despair, his eyes wild. “You have to believe me.”
“No, I don’t have to believe you. She has evidence or she wouldn’t be suing you. You can’t run from this. You lied to me and now you can’t run from that. I am done with you, Jack Dalton.”
“Holliday,” his tone is strong and forceful. “You need to calm down. For the baby. Don’t put your health at risk over this crazy bitch’s allegation. I’m telling you the fucking truth.”
“The truth?” I ask, laughing. “I don’t know what to believe anymore, but guess who told me your secret?”
“Tommy?” he asks, hurting my heart even more.
“Tommy knows? That’s what all the talk after the show was?”
“Fuck,” he mumbles when he realizes he just blew it.
Anger surges and I rush him, hitting him on the chest, so mad he would do this to me. “The fucking paparazzi! I found out how you fucked that whore and now she’s having your baby from lowlife scum who trapped me in a corner while taking my picture.”
His gaze hardens. His worst nightmare is now his reality. “Are you okay?”
Although I know what he means—physically, I reply, “No, I’m not fucking okay.”
He looks away and the vein in his forehead becomes prominent. “I’ll fucking kill them.”
“I don’t care about them.” The tears strike again and I begin crying. “How could you keep this from me? I trusted you, again!”
“Please believe me. What I told you was the truth. We didn’t have sex. I’m fighting the case, but because I’m fighting, I can’t silence her. I tried. Trust me, I tried for us.”
“Not hard enough. I’m done.” I push past him and head for the bedroom.
“No. We need to talk this through.”
Exhausted, and with my back to him, I reply, “I’m done, Dalton. Secrets always come out. I can’t live like this, wondering what’s going to happen next.”
He follows me in and says, “Don’t go. Please.”
I grab the suitcase out of the closet and toss it on the bed. As I unzip it, I say, “If you aren’t guilty, then why hide the truth? Why hide this lawsuit from me? Why risk everything over something that would eventually come out?”
“I was going to tell you, but I didn’t know how. I just had legal send the letter yesterday. I wanted to tell you when I knew how we were moving forward. We were hoping to scare her into ending this. I didn’t know she’d go public that fast.”
“I don’t want to hear anymore. I don’t want you near me. I don’t want to be with you in the same house. Do you understand what you’ve done to me… to your baby?” I scream, “You’re having kids with two different women at the same time. I don’t even want to look at you. You’ve humiliated me, Dalton!”
“Don’t forget, I’ve been humiliated too. Everyone thinks that baby in there,” he says, pointing to my belly, “is that pricks.”
Protecting my baby from the viciousness of this argument, I wrap my arms around my stomach. “But you know it’s not and Sebastian isn’t suing me to prove it’s his. He makes no claims. That’s all tabloid fodder.”
“I believed in you because I know what kind of person you are and know you wouldn’t do that to me.” He seethes, “But you don’t give me the same courtesy.”
“You’re turning it around on me like I did something wrong? How dare you!” I open the suitcase and grab a stack of shirts from the closet.
“I’m not turning it on you. I just want you to hear my side.”
I throw my clothes into it in one fast swoop. Then realize I won’t be able to fit my shoes and toiletries in this case and as he stands there watching me, I don’t care about any of this. This is superficial. This stuff doesn’t matter.
Staring down at the case, I lean forward and give into the tears. When I look up, my mascara blurs my vision and my tears turn black. “Your side? You had plenty of time to tell me your side and you chose not to, so why would I listen to you now? Why would I trust you? I found out from someone else when you didn’t trust me enough to tell? What’s next, Dalton? What other secrets are lurking, waiting to be revealed? I need to know.”
Standing there, he keeps a slight distance though I see him wanting to come closer. “I was going to tell you. I just wanted to have things settled so I wouldn’t worry you.”
“Keeping something that will damage our lives, that can hurt our children…” I close my eyes. When I open them, I cool my temper and say, “You have hurt me so much. Could this have been avoided? Maybe. Maybe not, but I can’t live like this anymore.” I leave the suitcase and walk to the door.
He catches me by the arm as I pass and says, “We’re not done.”
Yanking out of his hands, I snap, “We are through. The fairy tale is over! I’m leaving.”
I’m so distressed that I set my wedding ring down as I pass the table on the way to the front door. I’m spun around, caught, before I can open it. My arms are held at my sides as Dalton heaves, his rage directed through his eyes at me. “No.”
“Don’t tell me no. I’ll do whatever I damn well please. Now let go of me or you’re gonna regret it.”
“What are you gonna do?”
I try to raise my arms to push him away, but he holds on tight. I push harder and when my wrist slips out from his grip, I fall forward, accidentally kneeing him. He barrels over in agony. “Son of a bitch!”
Taking advantage of the opportunity, I run outside. I get in the car and lock the doors. I quickly start the engine, but when I look up, Dalton’s standing in front of the car. His palms go flat on the hood and he says, “You’re not leaving.”
Cracking the window, I say, “Move, Dalton. I mean it.”
“No. We’re not ending with you having half the story. If you hear my side and still want to go, fine, I’ll let you. I won’t like it. It’ll fucking destroy me, but I’ll move and let you go.”
Gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles lose color, I close my eyes and lean against it. My breathing is worn and heavy, the anguish killing me. But when I look up, something changes inside of me. I don’t see the man who betrayed me. I see the man I love more than I thought possible. And no matter how I feel or what I’ve heard, he’s right. I haven’t listened, really listened to his side. Even though I’m not wearing it now, I know when I put that wedding ring on my finger at the altar, I promised to do just that. “Fine.” I roll the window down further and turn off the car. “Tell me your side.”
He seems surprised and takes a deep breath. With his hands still firmly in place on the hood of the car, he says, “What I told you about that night is true. I told you everything that happened. Nothing more. She’s lying. I would know if I had sex with her, Holliday. I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have, even if we hadn’t gotten back together.”
“You touched her.”
He comes around to the side of the car and speaks to me through the window. “Yeah, I did and I regret it so fucking much. You don’t even know how sorry I am. But you need to know that I didn’t want to. I didn’t instigate it, but I was the fucker who did it and I will have to live with that. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again and as much as you need to hear it. I’m sorry.”
From inside the car, I wipe my tears away on the hem of my shirt. Calming under the sincere tone of his voice, I say, “But she wouldn’t go after you if it wasn’t true. She says she has proof.”
“There’s no proof. I can take a paternity test and it will get us right back here, proving what I’m telling you. She’s using the media to score a payday. She has nothing on me.”
“Then why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I wanted to have answers before stressing you out. I wanted you to know it was handled. But you found out from someone else and I’m also sorry for that.”
“They took my photo while I was crying. They touched me. They harassed me, Dalton. I feared for the baby.”
“Fuckers! I’ll make them pay, Baby. I promise you.”
“Security had to help me. This could have been avoided if I had known.”
“No, it couldn’t have been avoided. They would have found something to torture you with either way. But you’re right,” he says. “I should have told you. I kept it from you because I was worried about the baby and what this might do to you both.” Looking at me through the open window, he adds, “The only way to keep this quiet would have been to settle the suit and I couldn’t settle because that would feel like I was admitting guilt.”
The car door is opened and when his hand touches my shoulder, I don’t move away. I look down at my lap and then up to him. “You’re fighting it?”
“I have to. I have to for you and our baby, and for me. She’s going to use my public persona to get the result she wants, which is money.”
“Dalton…” I cover his hand with mine. “You swear you’re telling the truth?”
“I swear on my life that I’m telling you the truth. I have nothing to offer, but my words, my heart, and my soul. From here you’re going to have to have faith in what I’m telling you and trust me.” He briefly looks away. When his eyes meet mine again, he says, “It’s your call, Angel. You either believe me or I stand here until you believe me. Your choice. What’s it gonna be?”
He makes me smile, but I try to contain it while my fingers tap nervously on the steering wheel. My answer has been there all along. I just had to trust my heart to guide me back to find it. I open the door, leaving it to remain the barrier between us and hear a whispered, “I’m not going to let you leave me,” no louder than a breath.
This man. This handsome, broken man. He’s magnetic beyond his stage character and I’m too caught up in him to walk away now. “I’ll stay.”
A small smile filled with disbelief covers his mouth. “You will?”
“I will.” Lifting up, I take his face between my hands and kiss him. Sliding around with our lips still embraced, we shut the door and he presses me against it. When his lips find my neck, I whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“No sorries,” he whispers. “Just stay.”
“I’ll stay.”