Let Me Go (8 page)

My dad eyes me as he saunters into the room, fixating on me the entire way to the couch. “You can stay in your old room if you want.”

I appreciate the offer, I do, but this sadistic side of me has to make sure my words hurt Rob tonight. As sad as it is, I have to know if anyone joins him in his bed. I’m pathetic. “Thanks, Dad.” He clicks off the television and leans back on the couch, stretching his legs out on the coffee table just like me.

“You’re mighty polite tonight. What’s up?” He brings the glass to his lips and I stare down at my hands in my lap.

“What made you build the home in Cleveland all those years ago?” I ask, fidgeting with my fingers.

“You, of course. You know that.” If anything, my dad has been too honest with me most of my life. Although his truthfulness on how much he loves me is great, his honestly about the drugs he’s taken and girls waiting in lines outside his room, isn’t.

Pushing my luck a little, I ask the question my mom’s probably asked herself for years. “Why not, Mom?” He glances at me from the corner of his eye. “How come she wasn’t enough?” I bite my lip and he sips his whiskey, debating his answer, I’m sure.

“Paige. It’s not that she wasn’t enough.” He purses his lips together and unhooks his ankles and then crosses them again. He’s clearly uncomfortable with my questions and I know why. My mom was a fast one-night screw that ended up with a whoops at the end. “You want the truth, don’t you?” He places his drink down, leans his forearms on his knees and twists his head my way.

I nod and he mimics it in a slow motion. “Paige, you know the reputation I’ve earned. The papers don’t lie; I am who they label me. I met your mom one night and obviously we . . . conceived you.”

“You make it sound so innocent.” I laugh and he smiles.

“Well, the truth is, your mom was a groupie. She followed the band that summer. She saw who I was and what I was about.” He runs his hands down his hair, securing his long curly hair into a ponytail again. “When she contacted me months later to tell me about you, I believed it was a hoax. You know, something to get more attention.”

“Your worst nightmare came true, huh?” I giggle, but he looks at me straight faced.

“Paige, you’re the best thing that happened to me.” He’s lying, but I’ll play along, so I remain silent. “I’m serious. After the paternity test, I tried to make it work with your mom, but we both knew I was incapable of change. I left so she could have a future and find someone who would love her for her.” He makes it all sound so nice and grateful, when I’m the one who witnessed my mom throwing herself at my dad time and time again when she dropped me off or picked me up on his time. The short skirts and revealing tops she stuffed herself into to grab his attention. The pawing, the meals to entice him to stay, all so when he left, she’d crumble and fall into a depression for days.

“Do you think you’ll ever find someone who’s worth giving up other girls for?” He cocks his eyebrow at me. We both know he’s not the prince charming on a white horse sort of guy. He’s more, I’ll screw you senseless and we’ll party until we pass out, or I kick you out.

“What’s up, Paige? You’re beating around the bush pretty hard here. Is this about a guy?” His shoulders relax a little, and he sinks into the couch more.

“No, I’m just wondering. I mean, did you have some sort of horrible past and you use sex to feel loved?” I grasp at straws, and a loud billowing laugh escapes out of him.

“Nope. Raised in the suburbs with Grandma and Grandpa. Just love women. That’s it.” He’s so easy, I wish he were capable of a settled down life. Rarely spending time with him when I was younger unless he wasn’t on tour, brought an ache for me to have him in my life. Not to mention caring for a mom who could barely get out of bed. “If anything, you should be the one skipping through beds. Daddy issues and all.”

I shake my head and scoff. “Isn’t that the truth? My life wasn’t exactly like Full House.”

“But Paige, whatever’s going on in that woman brain of yours, trust your instincts. They are usually right. You’re a bright girl and you’ll make a good decision.” He smiles. “Who knows, maybe I haven’t found my one and only.”

“The problem I have, maybe not everyone wants to find them,” I say, patting his leg as I stand up to stare out the window.

“Paige, spend the night. I’ve never seen you so conflicted. Tell your old man what’s going on.” He stands up and his reflection through the glass shows him stalking toward me.

Turning around, his eyebrows drawing together show how concerned I’m making him. “There’s just this guy, my roommate.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

I laugh. “Yep and that’s why we’re going to stop there and I’m going to leave.” I begin roaming back to the door. “Sorry for interrupting you.”

“You never interrupt me, baby. I’m going back on tour in a few weeks. Come by and have dinner before.” I rotate around when I reach the big wooden doors, and he’s smiling down at me.

“Sure.”

“You have enough money?” His eyes look me up and down. “You need new clothes? Anything, just ask. You know that.” He assures me, but I hate asking for so much from him. I know he can afford it, but he pays my tuition, my car, my rent, practically my mom’s rent with the extra. My dad has never once lied to me. As hurtful as the truth was to hear, he never skirted around a rumor or anything in his life. I’m not about to deceive him and take more money from him to put in the hands of my mother, that would be dishonest. I already have guilt for giving her part of my monthly allowance.

“I know, Dad. Thanks.” I smile and he wraps his arms around my shoulders. Inhaling his scent one more time, I back away and open the door.

“I love you, kid.” He places his pointer finger under my chin and brings it up. “Since the day you were born.” He winks and a small smile begins to form across my lips.

“I love you, too.” I step out of my dad’s house more confused than when I walked in. He’s living proof that stereotypes are gray. No one would believe that Greg Thompson, lead guitarist of The Raptures, was sweet and kind. He’s known for the fights he gets into, trashing hotel rooms, and sleeping with every groupie that lines up outside his door. But with his out-of-wedlock daughter, he’s gentle, caring, and loves with his whole heart.

Pulling out of his driveway, I’m alarmed when another car’s headlights shine in my view. When I stop, wanting to check if it’s Hank or Len, his band mates, I spot a bleach-blonde not much older than myself circling through. She catches me and slams on her brakes, shooting me a death stare before speeding up the paved path.

Some things will never change.

Driving the hour back to campus, flickers of Rob’s multiple personalities flash in my brain. He’s so nice and attentive sometimes. Then one word or movement and it’s like I’m back to square one with him. I’m not sure I want the drama in my life, but for some reason he lures me to him. As though he’s weaving a web around me and I can’t free myself from his grip. Worse is that I’m not sure I want to.

I’VE SEARCHED MY
brain all night to figure out how to get Paige to forgive me. It was an asshole move and I knew it the minute I left that stage. The problem is, when anyone tugs at my heart, it’s a reflex to drive that person away. For some reason though, with Paige, I give a shit what she thinks of me.

After we played our set, I left Aces and came back home with the hope she’d be sprawled on the couch watching television. She wasn’t, so I holed myself up in my room, flipping through channels on the television until I heard her car, followed by her footsteps through the back door and trudging up the stairs. Her shadow was visible outside my door, and I hoped for a moment she’d knock, I’d apologize, and we could go back to the budding friendship we started. Instead she continued down the hall and her door silently shut. I lay awake most of the night, rehashing all the reasons to stay away from our escalating flirtatious relationship. To distance myself from her, let her realize the asshole I am.

When the shower starts up, I escape my room and go downstairs. Dex and Chrissy are still sleeping soundly after staying out most of the night with Sadie and Brady. I scramble her eggs runny like she prefers, toast a few pieces of bread and place the plate on the table with a glass of orange juice. Grabbing a piece of paper and pen, I jot down a small note, and disappear to my garage.

Why can’t I allow her to believe in the false persona I mask for everyone else?

With it still being so early, I position my earbuds in and crank up Linkin Park. Rolling under my car, I double-check she’s good for racing tonight. Drag racing has been my release since last year. You’d think the opposite, that after the accident with Carly, I’d never purposely speed, but the high speeds and winning, distract me until the end. The control I manifest with the steering wheel in my palms when I cross that finish line, and the fact my body is intact pisses me off. My therapist says it’s normal, some lame excuse of a survivor’s guilt. She assures me it will end, but I desperately want the imprisonment of my happiness to remain with me for the rest of my life.

Drowning in my problems, I’m abruptly yanked from under the car. Before I practically roll down the damn driveway, my feet skid the wheels to a stop. “What the fuck?” I stand up, tearing out my earbuds, and scowl to the responsible party.

There she stands, smirking while she taps the white piece of paper against her lips. “So.”

As happy I am to see her denying the smile that wants to break from her lips and the fact she’s about to forgive me for last night elates me, the other Rob perches strong on my shoulder to squash it.

I trail back up the driveway, with my roller tucked under my grip. “So? You almost killed me.” I toss the cart against the cement and grab a wrench.

“Deservedly so.” I catch the shrug of her shoulders on the way back over to the car. Opening the hood, I distract myself from her long legs.

“Paige, I’m an ass. What can I say, except that I’ll be one again?” She reads my note word for word and I hide the smirk that wants to break. “Not very apologetic if you ask me.” She raises her eyebrows and sits down in the white plastic chair, propping her foot up, hugging her leg into her body.

From the corner my eye, I spot her upper thigh exposed now and I shift my stance to adjust myself. “I said I was sorry last night, and you still walked away.”

She stands up and leans over the car. “I was mad. I’m not a very good talker when I get angry.” She places her hand on my hand. “Thank you for breakfast.”

I face her; amazed she’s going to let this go. Not dig into it twenty times over. “That’s it?” I ask her and she smiles, nodding her head.

“Yep.” She begins walking out of the garage and suddenly this rush of wanting her near overtakes me.

“Wait!” I call out and she spins around. Jesus, her nipples are practically popping out on display from the morning chill in the air. Breaking the distance, I try to keep my eyes focused on her face. “What are you doing tonight?” Not sure why the question even comes out, but it does.

Her feet shuffle, and my eyes remain fixed on her lips. Her tongue snakes out and I’m positive my dick just saluted. But not wanting to check, I patiently wait for her to answer. “Um . . .” She stalls and can I really blame her.

“I swear to you, I’ll make up for last night.” I reach for her hand but she wraps it around her stomach. Shit, there are her tits again, begging for my attention.

“Breakfast was enough, thank you.” She nods, twisting around and disappears into the house.

I don’t go after her; instead I stand in the driveway regretting every decision I’ve made when it comes to her. When I finally come back to present, I step into the garage and throw the socket wrench at the wall. “Fuck,” I mutter. Pacing back and forth along the length of my Mustang, I contemplate what the hell to do. Maybe a drive out to my hometown, talk to my mom would do the trick. Something to confirm the nightmare I made and convince me to stay the hell away from Paige. Leave her intact for someone else to love instead of the torment I’m sure to drag her through.

Noticing Dex’s truck blocking my way, I sit on the chair, my leg bouncing a mile a minute. Fuck, what am I supposed to do? I want her to come with me, watch me race.