Forever Rockers (15 page)

No, I quickly assured myself. If something had happened to my father, his PA would have called me, or Emmie would have. Not to mention news about Cole Steel—lead vocals for the legendary band Steel Entrapment—would have been front-page news.

I hadn’t met, let alone had a relationship of any kind with, the rocker who was my father until just before I’d married Drake. Hadn’t wanted to know the man who had given up all his rights and basically blamed me for all his problems at the time of my birth. It wasn’t until I’d miscarried that he’d found out I was his daughter and slowly we’d built up a father/daughter relationship. I wouldn’t say that what Cole and I had was exactly perfect, but it grew a little stronger with each passing year and with the birth of each new granddaughter I produced for him. He’d sucked as a father, but I had to admit that Cole Steel was the best grandfather in the world.

There was just a tiny thing about Cole being my father: no one knew. No one but those I trusted with my life. I didn’t want the chaos that would come with the world finding out I was the illegitimate daughter who had ruined Cole’s marriage and turned his son—my half-brother—against him.

It was weird thinking about having a brother. It didn’t feel real, because I didn’t think of Garon Steel as a brother. Jesse was my brother. Shane was my brother. Nik and even Axton were my brothers. Garon was a stranger. The funny thing was I’d even met Garon a few times over the years at award shows and film premieres. He was some big-shot movie producer and had even directed a few big-name films in the past.

The good thing was that we didn’t look alike except for sharing the same eye color. Cole’s eyes. I’d taken after my mother, whereas Garon was a mixture of both his parents. I guess you could say he was attractive, but his attitude made him appear ugly to me. He wasn’t someone I wanted to be a part of my family and if he knew I was his sister, I was sure he would feel the same way.

I finished fixing breakfast, trying to push my anxiety about what could be happening with Cole from my mind. By the time we had all finished eating, the baby monitor started making noise. Knowing Arella was hungry and needed a fresh diaper, I left Drake and Neveah to clean up and headed up the stairs, taking the paper with me.

After changing the baby’s diaper, I settled us both in the rocking chair and positioned her at my breast so she could have some breakfast of her own. Once my daughter was comfortable and greedily sucking away, I carefully opened the newspaper with one hand. It took me a little while to find the article that Drake had read that had made him think I needed to call my father.

My eyes narrowed as I read over the article and then I forced myself to read it again just to make sure I hadn’t made a mistake.

“That fucking asshole,” I muttered to myself as I dropped the paper on the floor beside the rocking chair, disgusted with it.

Arella let out a soft whimper and I tried to focus on her as I turned her so she could suck from my other breast. The greedy little angel was obviously starving.

Half an hour later, with Arella’s tummy full and her in the swing that had once been Neveah’s—and Neveah’s binky once again in her mouth to keep her from fussing—I finally reached for my phone and called Cole Steel.

It was later in the day in London so I wasn’t worried I would wake him up, even though I took the chance of him still being in bed. It wouldn’t have mattered to me either way. I was pissed enough that I could have reached through the phone and smacked him awake if he didn’t answer.

Luckily he answered on the second ring. “Hey there, sweetheart. How’s my favorite girl?”

I clenched my jaw. I might not ever think of Cole as a father figure, but he had tried hard over the years to make my childhood up to me. It had taken me a good bit of time to finally forgive him, so hearing him call me his favorite girl kind of melted my heart a little despite the anger that continued to build.

“Garon has found out about me,” I told him, my tone not nearly as cold as it might have been just thirty seconds before.

There was a short pause on his end. “How?”

“I don’t fucking know,” I snapped and quickly sucked in a deep breath because my voice had been louder than I’d wanted it to be. I didn’t want Neveah to overhear me and I sure as hell didn’t want Arella to start crying if my tone was too harsh.

“Are you having media trouble, honey? Do I need to get you some security?”

It was touching that he was worried and would offer me protection, but that wasn’t the issue at hand. “No. Even if I did, I could have a dozen of Charles Seller’s men at my front door within twenty minutes. Garon hasn’t exactly announced who I am, but from the article I just read in the
LA Morning Edition
, I’m sure he knows who I am.”

Cole blew out a harsh breath. “Maybe you should read me the article, Lana. I’m half hung over and just about to go on some evening talk show that was a term of my contract for this fucking talent show.”

I rolled my eyes and went back into the nursery to snatch up the paper. “It’s in the gossip section of the paper, Dad. It says that Garon is going to sue his sister—who remains anonymous at this point—in a civil action. It says that I was the reason his mother tried to commit suicide the day I was born and I caused him and his mother unreasonable grief. Since I—his anonymous sister—have the means to pay him and his mother restitution, I have a responsibility to pay them back for their suffering.”

I’d summarized the little article and I was back to being full-on pissed-off by the time I was done.

What the hell was Garon pulling? Why would he want to pull this kind of shit now? And how the fuck was it my fault and responsibility? I hadn’t asked to be born. I hadn’t wanted to have a mother who liked playing around with rockers to cushion her bank accounts by seducing them, only going away when given the right amount of incentive. I hadn’t wanted to have a father who was married and already had a family. It wasn’t my fault that lives had been destroyed by my birth. That was on my mother. On Cole. Even on Cole’s bitch of an ex-wife.

“So he didn’t spill the beans on who you are?” Cole growled.

“No, not yet. But that could happen at any time.” The doorbell rang and I smothered a groan, hoping that it wouldn’t upset Arella. Blowing out a frustrated sigh, I hurried downstairs to find Drake already at the door.

“Is this the home of Lana Daniels?”

Even as I descended the stairs, I could see the fury on Drake’s face. “Her name is Lana Stevenson.”

The man at the door, dressed in an expensive suit and wire-rimmed glasses, inclined his head. “But she was at one time Lana Daniels. Yes?”

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“Dray? What’s going on?” I moved to stand beside him, my gaze going straight to the thick envelope in the stranger’s hands.

“You’re Lana Daniels?” Drake took a menacing step toward him and I put a hand on his arm, soothing him. “Excuse me. Lana Daniels Stevenson?”

I let out an exasperated breath, knowing exactly what this man was there for. “Yes,” I bit out.

“Lana?” Cole was still on the phone that I had pressed to my ear, his deep, scratchy voice full of anxiety. “What’s going on?”

I grimaced as the newcomer lifted the envelope toward me. “I’m being served,” I informed my father. “For once the gossip columns got it right.”

Cole muttered a vicious curse. “I’ll get you a good lawyer, Lana. That little shit can’t do this, but he’s gonna try his damnedest. I’ve heard some rumors about his production company being in trouble. I thought he was going to reach out to me for some backing, but it looks like he’s got more of his mother in him than I originally thought. He’s gonna try to bleed it out of you, sweetheart.”

I clenched my jaw and shut the door, wanting to slam it but knowing I would only have Arella’s wrath to contend with if I did. Drake took the envelope from me and I leaned back against the hardness of the door. My eyes were on my husband’s face as his eyes moved over the summons. “How does he know who I am, Dad?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe a private investigator. I sure as hell haven’t told him. You know I wouldn’t do that to you and my grandbabies.”

I grimaced. It had taken a while but I’d started trusting the old rocker. I knew this wasn’t because of him. He was probably right about the PI.

“Can…” I sighed and shook my head, never imagining I would ever need him this much. I didn’t want to call Emmie. She had enough shit on her plate at the moment with that fucking stalker. Cole had said he’d get me a good lawyer. He had a capable staff that could help me deal with all of this without involving the rest of my family. “Can you come home?”

There was the briefest of pauses on Cole’s end, as if I’d surprised him. “Yeah, honey.” His voice was low and gentle. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

C
HAPTER
T
EN

November

Harper

The first thing I had done after Charles Seller and Emmie left was to grab my phone and change my email passwords.

My head was spinning. I couldn’t put two thoughts together after the bombshells the security expert had dropped. My stalker had been able to keep tabs on me through my email account. Thank gods I hadn’t ever emailed Shane any of the pictures we sometimes texted to each other. That probably would have shot the bitch into another orbit and I’d be dead by now.

The real cake topper was that if I did get pregnant—and right then that was a really huge if—we would have to keep it a complete secret. I’d thought my treatments had been a complete secret, though, with only Shane, Emmie, the doctor and his nurse knowing about it. I’d never imagined that I was wrong, or that it would lead to someone’s mental instability.

Rex and Shane had both refused to let me go to work on Tuesday so that my office could be completely inspected and security tightened for not only my protection but that of everyone in the building. By the time I returned to work on Wednesday I was a nervous wreck. Someone I worked with on a daily basis was after me. After Mia. Hell, she was even after Gabriella. I felt like I could trust no one, not even myself.

Now, nearly a month after getting that damn envelope, my stress levels were through the roof and I was to the point that I questioned even pricking myself in the ass every morning with those stupid hormone injections. What was the use? I wasn’t likely to ever get pregnant and at that moment it wasn’t safe for me or the poor baby. I should just get another dog—or three—and become one of those women who mothered their pets. Our neighbor was like that. Couldn’t even stand kids, but her dogs were her life.

I should become like that.

Rolling my eyes, because I didn’t think I could handle more than one more dog because Ranger was so spoiled by me, I tried to concentrate on work.

This was stupid. So stupid. How was I supposed to get anything done when I couldn’t concentrate because of the fear that was eating at me? The fear…and the rage. I had so much anger inside of me that it was a wonder steam didn’t come out of my ears. I wasn’t a violent person, but I wanted to find the person who was doing this shit to me and beat the living hell out of them.

If I didn’t get my head out of my ass I figured Rex would fire me, but so far he hadn’t said anything about my poor work performance. If I were in his shoes I would have told me to get lost as soon as the whole stalker thing had put his other employees at risk. He hadn’t though, and if anything it had made our working relationship a little closer. I trusted Rex, thought of him as a friend, and we worked great together.

When I wasn’t busy looking over my shoulder whenever I left my office. Or so distracted that I’d missed three stupid mistakes on the front cover of the
Rock America
edition the week before. Normally I was able to separate my personal and work lives.

There was nothing normal about this.

The phone on my desk rang and I reached for it without really focusing on any one thing. “Yes?”

Hannah’s voice greeted me. “Your father is on line two for you.”

“Oh.” I smiled. I hadn’t talked to Cecil in more than a week. I needed a pick-me-up and he was just the person to give it to me. “Put him through.” Moments later I heard a deep cough and my hope dimmed just a little. “Are you getting sick, Cece?” It was the beginning of cold and flu season. I hoped he was taking care of himself.

There was a long pause on the other side of the phone and my smile instantly disappeared. Not Cecil. Muttering a curse because I had no patience for that particular man, I clenched my hand around the receiver and turned my chair to glare out the window behind my desk. “What do you want, Todd?”

Todd Jones. The man who was no more to me than my sperm donor. The man who didn’t care if I was ever around or not. The man who was more worried about making his next big business deal than he’d ever worried about his daughter who was miserable traveling the world with his ex-wife and her new stepsister. My father only called me when I could do something for him, which was rarely. In my eyes, Cecil was my dad. He had taken care of me. Raised me as his own—hell, better than his own—and the only family I’d invited to my wedding. Cecil had given me away. Cecil was the one who mattered.

“I’d like to see you, Harper.” He coughed again, sounding as if he couldn’t catch his breath for a long moment. When he was finished, his voice came over the line weak, almost wheezing. “Will you come?”

My eyes narrowed. He was sick. “Where are you?”

“USC Norris Cancer Hospital,” came his weak reply.

That surprised me. Todd was normally on the East Coast at this time of year, preferring autumn in New York to California. Then the name of the hospital hit me like a bullet between the eyes.

Oh no.

My eyes closed tight and I sucked in a pained breath. Cancer. Damn it. Tears burned my eyes, tears I never thought I would shed for the man who was the second half of my gene pool. Todd was a hard man, had never shown so much as a drop of love for me in my entire life. Now… Was I going to lose him?