Damaged But Not Broken (New Adult Rockers) (25 page)

“I don’t want privacy,” she says
stubbornly, “I want you with me.”

I look at Kenny helplessly, because
I don’t want to deny Paige something that she wants.

Kenny shrugs. “Whatever.”

There’s a semi-private corner of
chairs in the back of the lobby and we make our way there. I set our bags
against the chairs, and I sit next to Paige and take her hand. She looks so beautiful
that it actually hurts.

Her hair is braided to one side,
and then pulled back in a low ponytail. She’s wearing a simple cream v-neck
shirt and dark green shorts. Even dressed simply, she looks like an angel. I
want to punch Kenny for hurting her the way he has.

Kenny clears his throat. “Just tell
me what to do,” he pleads, “I’ll do whatever you want me to do, but I can’t
lose you again. I lied and drank. I’m pathetic and you have every right to want
me out of your life. I’ll give up your contract; I won’t hold you to a word of
it, and I’ll give you to the best label in Nashville, no questions asked.”

I squeeze Paige’s hand, and I see
her eyes well up with tears. Fucking Kenny!

“I don’t know how I can ever trust
you again, Daddy. You were drinking right under my nose. You made a promise to
me; a promise to everyone that you were going to stay sober.”

He hangs his head in shame. “I
know.”

Paige is quiet for so long, that I
almost gently prod her, but then she looks directly at Kenny.

“There’s one thing you can do. Only
one thing that will allow me to consider fixing our relationship.”

“What? Anything?” Kenny is so
desperate, that I actually feel sorry for the guy.

“Thirty days in rehab,” she says
bluntly.

Kenny blinks. “Rehab? A month?”

“Yes. That’s it or nothing.
Otherwise, I’ll pack my bags as soon as this tour is over, and you won’t see or
hear from me again. I’m sorry to be so harsh, Daddy, but it’s that or nothing.”

She juts her chin out with resolve,
and I can see there is no changing her mind.

“I – I just don’t know, Paige. I have
a business to run,” he flounders.

“A business that you’ve almost run
into the ground again because of your drinking. I’m sure your employees are
more than capable of handling things for a month. You can leave detailed
instructions.”

Kenny stares at her again, still
reeling from her ultimatum.

“I need to think about it.” He
finally says.

“You need to think about if you
want your daughter in your life or not?” Her voice is hard and her eyes flash.
This is a side of Paige that I’ve so rarely seen.

“No of course not! Of course, I
want you in my life.”

“Then it’s really quite simple,
Daddy.”

Kenny sighs and buries his head in
his hands. “Alright. You win. I’ll go.”

TWENTY-THREE

Blake

Continued...

I watch Paige with complete
amazement as she pushes her emotions aside, and begins to handle Kenny’s trip
to rehab with the skills of a seasoned businesswoman. I didn’t know she had it
in her, and I think Paige is just as amazed with herself.

Kenny decides against staying with
us for a day or so because there are too many temptations, and he gets back in
his car and drives home. I can see that Paige is devastated, but she keeps it
together.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask
for what seems like the millionth time as we pick up a rental car to drive to
Chicago. Paige wants privacy as she makes her phone calls to set up Kenny’s
rehab.

“I’m fine,” she says stoically.
“This is what I wanted. I’m just still trying to cope with the fact that my
father is a drunk and a liar.”

I’m not sure how to respond, so I
keep my mouth shut. Ten minutes later, and we’re situated in our small rental
car. I pull out onto the freeway, and Paige whips her phone out and begins her
research.

“I don’t think I want to send Daddy
to a rehab near Nashville. I think he has too great of a chance to run into
people he might know from the music industry and I think that would hinder his
recovery.”

I nod slowly, realizing she’s
right. She’s quiet for a while as she scrolls through sites on her phone and I
refrain from asking her what she’s found. I don’t want to interrupt.

“I think I’ve found it,” she says a
while later, almost sounding triumphant. “There’s a quaint, secluded clinic
outside of Atlanta. They cater to alcoholics and they are very confidential.
Sounds like the perfect place for Daddy.”

Before I can respond, she dials the
number and I listen to her side of the conversation as she begins asking
questions and jotting down information on a notepad balanced on her lap. In
five days we have another day off for travel, and I hear Paige make plans to
admit her father on our travel day.

She hangs up and looks over at me.
I see the pain in her eyes, and I silently reach for her hand.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

We don’t say anything for a long
time, and we both stare straight ahead as we make our way to Chicago.

“I’m going with you.” I say.
"This time it’s not up for debate."

I know Paige, and I know she’s
going to need support, especially after she drops her father off.

She nods, continuing to stare out
the window. “I’d like that.”

“You’re strong Paige, and so is
your dad. You’re both going to get through this. Both of you have been through
a lot worse,” I point out.

“I know.”

Sighing heavily, she pulls her
phone back out and calls Becky. Paige doesn’t use the word ‘alcoholic’ but she
says just enough to make it clear to Becky that Kenny is dealing with an
addiction and has to take a month-long sabbatical from work. Paige rattles off
dates and other things, and from the way her shoulders slightly relax; I can
tell that Becky will be able to handle everything just fine.

By the time we reach Chicago, Paige
has arranged for Kenny’s rehab visit, sent payment via online, managed his work
affairs, and set up our own travel plans so that we can take Kenny to the rehab
facility ourselves.

“I’m exhausted,” she admits, as we
drop the car off conveniently at our hotel.

“Want to lay down and rest?” I ask,
as we check in and get Paige’s room key. The rest of the tour group has already
checked in.

“Nope,” she says coyly, as we get
into the elevator. The doors slide shut and Paige shimmies up to me, sliding
her hand up my thighs and cupping me through my jeans.

“Paige!” I gasp, groaning with
pleasure. “You can’t be serious?”

“Oh, I’m serious,” she purrs. She
flashes me a devilish grin, before pulling out the emergency stop button on the
elevator.

“Paige, we’ll get caught,” I can’t
help saying as she unzips my pants and drops to her knees. “This is reckless!”

“I need reckless,” she says
seductively, tugging my jeans and boxers down. “After all the planning and
responsibilities I just took on, I need to do something rash and
irresponsible.”

I want to protest again but I can’t
because Paige takes me into her mouth and I stiffen completely. My hands
instinctively reach out, and I support myself against the cool metal walls of
the elevator as Paige works me over inside her warm mouth.

I throw my head back in pleasure,
and I look up to the mirrored ceiling of the elevator.

“Christ,” I breathe, realizing I
have my own private show of Paige pleasuring me. And with complete voyeurism
satisfaction, I watch Paige give me the blowjob of a lifetime in our halted
elevator.

TWENTY-FOUR

Paige

Promise of Never

As I dress for our Chicago tour, I
can’t quite believe how I behaved in the elevator earlier today. Something just
came over me, and I needed to be in control of the situation, and I needed to
do something wild. I could tell Blake was floored, but of course he managed to
relax in no time and enjoy himself.

I smile smugly to myself, as I
straighten my silver and blue brocade dress. It’s dressier than a lot of my
other tour outfits, but Chicago is one of our biggest cities and I want to look
great. The dress was an addition from Jami, and now I’m grateful she lent me
the short dress.

I love its gathered waist, U-shaped
neckline and crisscrossed back straps. It's edgy but still classy, and instead
of dressing it down just a bit with cowgirl boots, I dress up the look with
glittering silver heels adorned with tiny spikes.

I quickly finish up and hurry to
meet the rest of the group in the lobby. I hear Ryan catcall first and I watch
Blake slowly turn around. Blake’s jaw drops open and Ben shakes his head in amazement.

“Holy shit, Paige, you sure know
how to knock it out of the park,” Ben admires, his eyes roving appreciatively
over my body.

I blush. “Thanks, Ben. I figure I
better look good for Chicago.”

“You always look good, baby,” Blake
murmurs, getting control of his voice again, and slipping his arm around my
waist, “but you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

We were playing in a well-known
music club in Chicago, it holds around two thousand people. The last we heard,
the show was almost sold out; I found that hard to believe.

Elvis whisks us into the van and
safely delivers us outside the club. The owner hurries out the back door and
ushers us inside, talking excitedly about having us perform. He confirms that
the show did in fact sell out. Jack comes with us to check the stage and Liam
heads to the front of the house.

When I step onstage to open the
show, the crowd erupts in cheers. Thanks to media outlets like YouTube and Twitter
a lot of people are already familiar with my songs, and I’m shocked as people sing
along to some of my numbers. At first Blake would come out to sing our duet at
the end of my act, but after a few successful nights, Liam moved us to close
the show together.

After Rust finishes, I come back
onstage and I grin like an idiot when the crowd cheers again for me. Blake and
I sing our cover song, and the audience goes wild. People are cheering and
screaming our names, and Blake and I look at each other with total shock; this
tour was more successful than we ever expected.

All of us are giddy as we pile into
the van, and we decide to celebrate with a night out on the town. The group is
happy to have Blake and I join them, and aside from the drama with my father, I
realize that I’m happier now in this moment than I’ve ever been.

As we sit in a plush booth in a
low-lit club that’s pumping house music, I look over at Blake as I sip my
over-priced strawberry cocktail. It dawns on me that he too is happier than
he’s ever been. It took us a long time, and we still had to deal with my dad,
but I can’t believe how far we’ve come.

~~~

The high from Chicago lasts for
three days as we make our way across the Great Lakes. But all too soon, I’m
thinking about my daddy, and the night before we take him to rehab arrives. We
play a show in Columbus, Ohio, and then Blake and I hurry to catch a late night
flight to Nashville. I was shocked that I was able to find a flight that left
just before midnight, and Blake and I were the last two passengers to make it
on the plane.

“Everything will be okay,” Blake
assures me as we settle in for our flight to Nashville.

“I hope so. Even with Daddy going
to rehab, I’m not sure if we can ever fix our relationship. It wasn’t even
completely fixed before this happened. We were just getting to know each other
again!”

I feel another surge of anger
toward my father, and I try to battle the feelings. I don’t want to be angry
now. What I need is rest, especially since we have a long day ahead of us. I
doze off during the flight, and I start to come to as we make our descent into
Nashville.

I’m quiet all the way to my Daddy’s
house, and I’m relieved that Blake is spending the night with me. When we enter
the house, all is quiet, and I’m relieved to see that the house is clean and
there are no signs of alcohol. Blake and I tiptoe our way back to my part of
the house and we barely rinse our faces and brush our teeth before collapsing
in bed.

The alarm clock goes off all too
quickly, and jars me from a restless and choppy sleep. The sun is just starting
to come up, and I'm reminded as to why I am not a morning person.

“Anything before seven a.m. is just
plain indecent,” I grumble as I fall out of bed. Blake groans in agreement and
we stumble about my small suite, getting ready. We make our way to the main
kitchen a little before seven, and find my dad sitting glumly at the breakfast
counter, surrounded by a few duffel bags.

“Hi Daddy,” I say quietly, “Did you
eat something?”

“Nah,” he mumbles.

I shake my head and walk over to
the pantry. I take out a bag of bagels.

“Want one?” I ask Blake.

He nods. I toast three bagels and
set out butter and cream cheese. I pour three glasses of orange juice and we
all sit at the counter, eating our breakfast in silence.

“Alright, we should go,” I finally
say, rinsing our dishes out and putting them in the dishwasher. Blake grabs the
bag that he and I are sharing, as well as one of my Dad’s bags. My dad grabs
his other two bags and we make our way to my car, which has the most room.

Blake tosses the bags in the back,
and then climbs in the back seat. I get behind the wheel and my dad climbs
reluctantly into the passenger seat. I try to talk to my dad during the
four-hour drive, but I only get one-word answers out of him. I’m not sure if
he’s uncomfortable because Blake is with us, or if he’s just angry that I’m
making him do this.

After over two hours of silence, I
can’t take it anymore.

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” I finally say,
breaking down. “But don’t blame me for this.”