The Girl of Sand & Fog (27 page)

I hurry toward him and some marginal parameter of
my brain notes he steps back, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
Everything inside me starts to twirl, though I’m not sure why, only a feeling
that something very wrong is about to commence again.

“Bobby, thank God you’re here,” I cry, throwing
my arms around him.

A shudder passes through him. “It’s been awful
not being able to talk to you. I’ve been out of my head worrying. I had to come
before you leave to make sure you’re doing all right, Kaley.”

Before I leave?

I ease back and he comes into focus clearly for
the first time. There is something on his face that makes me anxious and
afraid. “I’m all right now that you’re here. Why are you acting so strangely,
Bobby?”

Suddenly, he puts more distance between us. The
abruptness sends sensation through me like a tsunami.

He shakes his head. “Jesus Christ, Kaley. Do you
even have a clue what you did? To your family? To me? To you?”

“It doesn’t matter if you still love me.”

He runs a hand through his hair and now he is
visibly shaking. “Love you? I love you with everything I am. But what I saw you
doing—how you looked, baby—it scares the hell out of me because I don’t know if
my loving you will ever be enough and I need it to be.”

My lids fly wide and I try to take back the space
between us in desperate urgency, but his hands close on my arms, keeping me away.

“You’re everything to me, Bobby. We can take off
like you’ve always wanted. Let’s leave. Now. Together.”

I stop him from speaking with my kisses, locking
my mouth to his with the frenzied passion coursing through me. Bobby’s breath
begins to quicken inside him. His body starts to mold into me in slow degrees,
his mouth moving with mine—

The kiss breaks off and he springs back from me.

“No. No. No,” he whispers roughly and closes his
eyes. “I can’t do this. You need to go. And I need to stay here.”

Oh God, I see it on his face and I don’t want to.

I stare at him with wounded and stricken eyes.
“You came here to tell me we’re over, didn’t you?”

He looks at me, those gentle green eyes plunging
into my heart like a knife. “Four days ago I would have left with you. It’s the
only thing I wanted. But too much has happened. I’m not sure anymore about
anything. I didn’t come here to leave with you tonight. I’m not going on this
tour even though it’s the last tour for the band and Linda wants me there. We
need to step back from each other. I need to figure out if I can ever be who
you need me to be. You need to figure out, Kaley, if you want me because you
love me or because you hate Alan.”

*  *  *

I
sit on the patio chair through the night, turning over and over again in my
head the last four days and trying to make sense of them. Mom. Alan. Bobby. Me.
I don’t know how I got here, and I don’t know where I’m going.

Light spreads across the sky. Dawn. A new day.
New possibilities, as Grandpa Jack would say. I don’t see any possibilities. Or
rather, not ones I want to see.

I’ve destroyed my world. Completely. Every part
like tiny specks of sand on the ground at my feet, too small to scoop up. I am
lost in a sandstorm of too quickly coming changes, and I can’t stop it. I am
being dragged away from everything I have ever known.

Whether I want to be or not.

Alone.

With a stranger.

Alan.

CHAPTER 25

Six
days later

The
car drives out onto the tarmac and then stops. I shift my gaze to look out the
window. Oh crap, people everywhere. The band. Families. Tour crew and press.
This should be fun. Time for warped family adventure to begin.

The door is opened and I turn my gaze back to
Alan. Jeez, can the guy look any more uptight? He wanted us here, none of us
wanted to leave Mom, and he doesn’t haven’t the first clue what to do with us.

Waiting, Alan. Say something already or do you
plan to keep us in the car all day? This is freaking ridiculous.

He removes his glasses. “Listen, there is press
out there. I want you to exit the car, go directly onto the plane and say not
one word to anyone.”

Krystal nods.

I roll my eyes.

My dad puts his sunglasses back on and gestures me
out first. The cameras explode. There are shouted questions from every
direction. I move quickly toward the stairs and trot up into the plane.

As I step into the cabin, there’s a noticeable
hush. Fuck, the flight attendant looks like her eyes are about to pop out of
her head. Yep, it’s true. I look just like him. It’s not tabloid bullshit or
Photoshop. Get over it.

I wait impatiently
for my siblings, trying
not to make eye contact with anyone—especially Linda who is not so subtly
glaring at me from her seat—and really wish I could figure out a way to be
invisible.

I turn toward the steps as Krystal appears and
closes in on me.

She frowns. “Thanks a lot for waiting for me.
What are we supposed to do now?”

I shrug, since I really don’t know. Probably hold
up here for Alan and the twins. Fuck, I wish they’d hurry. Standing in the
front of the plane is like being on display.

Through the open door I hear more rapidly
flashing camera sounds and heavy footsteps on the stairs. First Eric appears.
Then my dad carrying Ethan.

My heart clenches at the sight of my brother.
Ethan is so shy and sensitive. He looks absolutely miserable. I wonder if Alan
gets that.

Alan motions me and Krystal to sit in the first
row.

“This is Cuddy, the tour manager,” he explains.
“He’ll make sure the flight crew gets you whatever you need.” He points to the hulking
figure standing twenty rows away. “Back there is Nick Day, the production
manager. That’s as far back in the plane as you’re allowed to go. You’re not
allowed to mix with the road crew. I’m going to sleep until we land in Mumbai.
Behave yourselves.”

I gape as he sets Ethan and Eric alone across the
aisle from us. Really, Alan? You’re just going to dump them here in the front
of the plane? No. No. No. Fuck that. This shit stops now. The five days of
family holiday outside London were bad enough. I’m taking charge. I’m getting
us kids bounced from this tour and back to California with Mom.

I turn in my seat, arms lying across the top,
staring at Alan’s departing figure, and rummage for something to say that will
piss him off. Heavy stares from all directions fix on me.

Nope, I don’t care if you stare.

What should I say?

Ah, perfect.

“Daddy, are we there yet? I’m bored.”

Alan stops and turns back toward the front of the
plane.

He meets me stare for stare.

“You speak to me in that sarcastic tone of voice
again and this trip is going to get real rough real fast.”

Good.

He’s irritated.

I smile.

“Sure, Pop. I just have one question, though. Why
did you drag us along on the Smash the Family tour? You should have just left
me home with Mom. At least she’s not an asshole.”

Direct hit. He looks like his head is about to
explode. Come on, Alan, come through for me. Give up and send us home.

“Go ahead, Kaley. Keep it up. You’re only
embarrassing yourself.”

He’s tough.

I’ll give him that.

I arch a brow—
I am your daughter
—and this
girl doesn’t back down for the people she cares about.

“Fine, I’ll sit here and tweet.”
Oh, that
definitely has him going.
I smile sweetly.
“Come on, Pop. Lighten
up. Admit it, that was a little funny.”

To my shock, he turns around and continues to his
seat.

I drop back down into a sitting position.

Crap, that didn’t go the way I expected.

The door is closed. The steps are pulled back.
The engines turn on and a few minutes later I am in the air going to Mumbai
whether I want to or not.

Now what?

Krystal tugs on my arm. “Stop it. Stop bullying
Dad.”

I look at her. “What? Leave me alone, Krystal.
Don’t you have one of your math nerd packs to work on?”

Her eyes burn into me bright with condemnation.
“You’re being awful. You’re hurting Dad. You’re embarrassing yourself. Do you
know that?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m trying to get him to send us
home. The twins are miserable. This is just plain wrong.”

“Don’t pretend you’re trying to do something for
us. You want to go home because Bobby dumped you and you blame Dad and think
he’s”—she makes dramatic air quotes—“ruining your life.”

“Don’t call him Dad. I’ve already told you that.”

“I’ll call him what I want,” Krystal snaps and I
look away.

A moment later, Krystal grabs her things, unbuckles,
and disappears toward the back of the plane. I struggle not to cry.
Great,
Kaley, great. Now you’ve got Krystal against you and she’s the closest thing to
a friend you’ve got here.

I pull my legs up in front of me, heels on the
edge of the seat, and lay my cheek on my knees. I just want to go home. Why
doesn’t anyone get that?

For a while I watch the twins playing their
handheld video devices. They’re so cute. I take my camera from my bag and
debate whether to sneak a picture or take the games away. They’ve been on those
darn things all day and Mom wouldn’t like it.

I let the twins continue to play, remembering the
hot guy two rows behind me I spotted when I boarded the plane. Maybe I can get
a picture without getting busted by Alan and having my camera taken away. That
would make this trip unbearable.

I carefully lean around my seat and study that
fine specimen through the viewfinder. Definitely hot. Dark hair. Gray eyes.
Always a winning combination.
Incredible physique.

Who is he and what does he do on the tour? 

I quickly snap pictures. The guy next my Adonis
isn’t bad either. Sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. Shoulders; definitely
impressive.

Security maybe? They’re dressed alike. Black
shirts, black slacks and black boots. But oh, they are hotties.

I click a few shots of the blond.

I turn back around and scroll through the photos.
Nice. Very nice. I’ll send them to Zoe when we get the hotel. That’ll give her
something to drool over.

I exhale loudly. Big fun for the day done. I turn
to check on my brothers. Still glued to their video screens. Mom would be so
pissed if she could see this.

Time to take the toys away and give them a book.

I’m about to interrupt them when then the
super-hot guy behind me crosses in front of me and settles into Krystal’s
vacant seat.

I give him
the stare
. “Did I say you could
sit next to me?”

He grins. “No, but I didn’t ask. I don’t have to.
I’m part of Alan’s private security team. Security sits in the front of the
plane. We’re first off. Last on.” He holds out his hand. “Graham Carson.”

I ignore those tan fingers waiting and then he
motions for the flight attendant. She brings him a drink. He downs half of it
in a single swallow, then lowers a tray table and sets it down.

I glare at him, planting my feet on the ground
with a loud thump. “I’m surprised you’re drinking. Doesn’t seem like a good
move for security to get drunk on the flight.”

He shrugs. “It’s a long flight to Mumbai. The
booze will be out of my system before we land. And something tells me I’m going
to need a few drinks sitting next to you.”

Well, that was rude.

He leans into me. “And you look like you could
use a friend.”

Fuck. “Maybe, but not you.”

“You know, you won’t get anywhere trying to
publicly humiliate your dad. He’s not going to send you home. And he sure as
hell is not going to walk away. He’s not programmed like that. And there isn’t
anything you could say that would make these people respect and love him less.
He’s a good man. You should really knock it off.”

I exhale. “Great. Now you’re a therapist. What
are you, bodyguard by day and taking some sort of online psychology classes at
night?”

Crap, now he looks amused. “Nope. Don’t need to.
I’m ex-Special Forces. I’ve already taken all the online courses. Part of Delta
training.”

He says that sort of charming and definitely
funny, and has the gall to wait as if expecting me to laugh.

“I read people and situations pretty well,” he
continues. “Definitely necessary in my job. Do you want to know how I see this
battle laid out?”

“Not particularly.”

He reaches for his drink. “You are trying to get
your way fighting a persona, girl, and you don’t know it. You don’t even know
the real man. And if you knew the real man, you’d be ashamed of that public
show of
I hate my daddy
you just put us all through. It’s not going to
work. It’s sad to see. You are definitely too old to behave that way. And you
don’t know your father at all.”

My entire face covers with a burn. “Whose fault
is that?” I snap before I can stop myself.

Graham’s smile is gentle and understanding. “No
one’s. Sometimes things just are. It’s up to you to make them either better or
worse.”

I start turning the camera over and over in my
lap to hold back my tears and words.

“Instead of sneaking around catching pictures of
guys you think are hot for the next four months—” My cheeks heat even more. He
grins with full dimples showing. “Oh yeah, you’re not very sly and I saw you
taking pictures of me and Dillon.”

“Oh, a drunk,
conceited
bodyguard. Just
great.”

Damn, all he does is smile. “Why don’t you ask
your dad if you can film? You’re a filmmaker, right? The camera doesn’t lie.
Not if you don’t let it. Film everything and you might learn something about
your father.”

“Thanks. If I need advice again, you’ll be the
first I run to.”

He nods. “Good. Improvement.”

I roll my eyes.

He leans back in his seat and adjusts his body.
“I’m going to sleep. Don’t photograph me. And definitely don’t yell at your dad
again until you’re off the plane. I need to be well rested when we land. It’s
going to be a zoo in Mumbai and it’s not a completely safe place. I need to be
sharp.”

I make a face. “I’ll try to contain myself on all
fronts, soldier.”

Laughing, he closes his eyes. “You’re quick and
funny. God, you’re exactly like your dad. You just don’t know it.”

Had to get one last dig in.

A last-word freak.

Great.

I can’t wait to get off this fucking plane, and
Graham’s right. It’s a long flight to Mumbai. Shit, what am I supposed to do
now?

Two hours later, I’m bored out of my skull and I
can’t stop turning Graham Carson’s words over in my head. He’s wrong. I do know
my dad. I’m just like him—
unfortunately
—and that makes me an expert on
the man.

But Graham is right about one thing.

I do need something to do for the next four
months. Weeks only thinking about all the shit that went down in the ’Sades and
Bobby dumping me will make me crazy.

I am a filmmaker.

There isn’t a film crew on this tour.

It’s my dad’s last tour.

I exhale heavily.

How do I get Alan to trust me with a camera?

Oh fuck, I’m just going to ask and see what
happens.

I take my video camera from my bag, unbuckle my
seat belt and carefully stand. I don’t want to wake Graham and have him see me
grovel to my dad getting permission for this. And I definitely don’t want him
watching if I get shot down.

The sudden fix of eyes on me as I move down the
center of the plane is unnerving. Shit, I wish everyone would stop staring at
me.

I spot my dad with my sister. Well, isn’t this
just one happy little family? Krystal is lying with her head on a pillow across
my dad’s thighs and they’re both sound asleep.

I avoid the sudden weight of Linda sharply
pinning me with her gaze as if she’s in fear of
this
, battle the rising
emotion in my throat, and ease down beside my dad’s seat.