Mr. Hollywood (Celebrity #1) (28 page)

Read Mr. Hollywood (Celebrity #1) Online

Authors: Lacey Weatherford

BOOK: Mr. Hollywood (Celebrity #1)
12.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A high-pitched scream pierced the air and I flinched.
Taking a deep breath, I turned toward the sound.


How
could you?

my mom

s voice retorted shrilly, bouncing
off every surface. She was standing behind the house yelling at my dad.

How could you do this, Dirk? To me?
To our family?

I was shocked when she
slapped him. Mom didn

t ever hit anyone

at least not that I

d ever seen.

Dad

s head hung low. He couldn

t even meet her gaze as she glared
at him. I didn

t blame him. Mom looked scary right
now. I

d never seen her so angry and I
wondered what was going on.

Carefully, I snuck closer, trying to listen, not
stopping until I was hiding at the corner of the house. I could see now that
she was crying

wait. They both were. I

d never seen my dad cry in my life.
Something was really wrong here.


You
make me sick!

she continued on, her face
mottled with rage.

I gave you everything and this is
how you repay me? I stayed in this god-forsaken place because you asked me to.
The money my father left me is what funded everything you see here.

A horrible gut-wrenching sob
escaped her.

I thought you loved me. I thought
you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me. Now I

ll be the laughingstock of the
whole area.


I
do love you. I swear on my life, I never meant for things to go down this way,

my dad said, almost in a whisper.

You

ve
got to believe me, Dorothy.

She snorted, clenching her hands into fists. I could
see the defined muscles in her arms, made strong from all the manual labor she

d done.

I can

t
believe anything you

ve ever told me. Everything I
thought we had is a lie.

Clenching her jaw, she
glanced in my direction and I ducked back around the corner, afraid she

d seen me eavesdropping. But if she
did see me, she didn

t come to me.

Instead she continued speaking.

How long have you known?

Silence.


How
long have you known?

she shouted even louder, and
I peeked again.


Since
I was a teenager.

His words were so low the
breeze almost swept them away from me.


Excuse
me?

Mom

s
face reddened even more.

More silence.


Does
his wife know?

She was shaking.


He

s supposed to be telling her now.


Perfect.
Just perfect. So what happens from here? You run off into the sunset with your
boyfriend
and the two of you simply leave us
behind with the children to rot?


Dorothy,
I swear I

ll do everything I can to help you
out financially. I just need to stop lying to myself. It

s time I start being the man I
really am and embrace my differences. I want to be happy, and I want that for
you, too. Don

t you get it? Your life isn

t the only one that

s been a lie. Someone else is out
there for you. Hopefully someone who will actually love you the way you deserve
to be loved.


Fuck
you, Dirk!

She stormed inside the house,
slamming the door loudly behind her.

Dad sank into a crouch, slipping his hat off his head
and holding it near his chest, weeping sounds leaving him in terrible, quaking
shudders. I watched him for several moments, too scared to move.

BANG! Jumping, I covered my ears, glancing about
wildly, searching for the source of the sound before staring at my dad. Lifting
his head in alarm, he flew to his feet.


Dorothy?

he shouted, his voice filled with panic.
Running toward the house, he flung the door open.

Dorothy? Oh, God! No! No! Dorothy!
Please, no! Not this!

Scrambling toward the door, I halted as I stared at
the scene inside. Blood was everywhere, splattered across the floor and thick
chunks of slimy looking gray stuff was sliding down the wall into a puddle at
the base.


Dad?

My voice trembled and he shifted
revealing my mom, who was missing part of her head.


Get
out, Zane!

Dad shouted, tears streaming
down his face.

Run to the Hart

s as fast as you can and stay
there. You hear me? RUN, BOY! Don

t look back!

Turning, I raced away as fast I could, as if the very
hounds of hell were chasing me and my lungs felt like they were going to burst
with the strain.


Zane,
listen to me.

It was Dr. Wilson

s voice.

Calm down. Keep breathing. Slower,
Zane. Breathe slower. You

re safe now. Nothing here can hurt
you.

I did as he asked, attempting to slow my breathing as
I hurried down the road in front of me. The Hart

s
farmhouse was in the distance and it seemed so far away.


I

m going to bring you out now, Zane.
I want you to focus on the sound of my voice as I bring you back to
consciousness. Remember you are safe. Nothing can harm you. Things are moving
at a pace comfortable to you.

 

You

re
floating back to your boat on the ocean, settling into a comfortable position
to watch a relaxing sunset. Everything you

ve seen today is just a distant
memory, now. It

s okay to acknowledge your
feelings, but they have no power over you. All you

re required to do is breathe. Keep
breathing in and out, in and out.

Wrestling with the horrific images running through my
head, it took extreme focus to brush them aside and see only the sunset before
me. Gradually, the bad images faded away, replaced by the serene ocean view. I
focused in on it.


When
you

re ready, you can wake up, and you
will remember everything you

ve just seen. Whenever you

re ready. Just keep breathing.

Immediately my eyes snapped open and I gasped, shaking
my head and trying to stabilize myself enough to get rid of the disoriented
sensation. The room and everything in it was exactly how it looked a couple
minutes ago.


You

re safe, Zane. You

re back in my office and we just
completed a forty-five minute session. Do you remember anything?

Forty-five minutes? I was so confused. Hadn

t I just sat down five minutes ago?


Zane?

Dr. Wilson questioned.

Are you all right?

Suddenly all the memories were in my head, playing out
in full, brutal, awfulness.

It wasn

t an accident,

I blurted out.

My mom killed herself. She found
out my dad was having an affair with another man and he was going to leave her.
She killed herself.


Did
you think differently?

I nodded.

Dad always said it was an accident,
that she was cleaning a gun and it went off. But it

s not true. She
killed
herself. How did I forget this?

I felt like the worst son in
the world.


The
mind often searches to place the things it doesn

t
understand in certain categories so it can protect itself. It

s completely natural. You saw
something you couldn

t accept, so your mind protected
you from it. How old were you when she died?


Six
years old.

He nodded.

I can see where the mind of a six
year old would want to hide a memory like this away forever.

Had I been protecting myself? Was that all it was?

What if there

s more? I need to go back.

A frantic feeling pulsated through
me.

Dr. Wilson shook his head.

Not today, Zane. You need to
process this. We will have another session in a few days, if you feel up to it,
but first you need to come to terms with this before we even consider moving
on.

I knew there was no changing his mind, but still hated
being left up in the air like this. Clearly, I had repressed memories, and I
wanted to know what other secrets might be hiding inside me.


Just
tell me what to do and I

ll do it.

 

“Is it a Love Child? Sources say Z McCartney is Father of Aubrey
Hart’s Son!”

~LA Metropolitan~

Chapter Twenty-Two

Aubrey

 

Closing the door on him was the hardest thing I

d ever done in my life. Leaning
against it, I listened as he continued on, walking out of my house and softly
shutting the front door behind him.

Moving back to my bed, I collapsed into a heap,
curling up into the fetal position and let the flood of tears release. Body
shaking, I sobbed into my pillow, desperate to muffle the aching sounds being
torn from inside me so I wouldn

t disturb Dustin.

Thinking of him made me cry even harder. He

d be devastated when he woke up in
the morning and found Zane gone. I needed to make sure that he understood Zane
wasn

t abandoning him.

I wasn

t angry with Zane. No, instead my
heart was breaking for him over the trauma he

d
been through, both at his own hands and the hands of others. Pain and misery
had been etched into his features as he

d poured the truth out to me. Vivid
imagery raced through my mind as he described the horrific events, and I
wondered if my response would

ve been the same.

I didn

t think so. It would

ve been a huge wake up call for me.

Still, I wasn

t Zane, and I couldn

t even begin to fathom how
traumatic all of this must

ve been for him, nor the man who

d awaken with him.

But even that wasn

t
what bothered me the most. What bothered me was the fact that despite the
terrible things that had happened to him as a direct result of using, quitting
substances had never even crossed his mind.

Didn

t he remember how annoyed he used
to get with his father? After his mom died, Dirk was a drunken mess. It was
like everything about him died with Dorothy. He quit working the farm, or
receiving visitors, letting everything lapse into disrepair

even Zane.

Zane had run to our house after his mom was shot in a
freak accident, and had practically lived there the rest of his childhood,
except for late evenings and nights when he went home to sleep in his own bed.

Several years later, I remembered hearing my parents
speak in hushed tones about how worried they were about him and what was going
on with Dirk.


I
think Dorothy was the love of his life,

my mom said sorrowfully.

When she died in that accident, so
did he.


Such
a shame,

my dad replied, shaking his
head.

I wish I knew how to help him.


You
are helping him,

Mom countered.

You

re
raising his son.

Dad paused, considering her words.

I guess I am, aren

t I?

It was the truth. Once Zane was old enough, Dad taught
him how to work the farm and started renting out pieces of the McCartney

s farm to help Dirk pay his bills.
The older Zane got, the more he took over running things for his dad, until
Dirk was simply a man who lived there and spent his entire day searching for
the bottom of a bottle.

I used to be afraid of him. He never left that chair
he sat in, staring blankly into the television with red-rimmed eyes. I didn

t ever speak to him, unless I
absolutely had to, and I never got too close. He smelled bad and often wore the
same clothes for days without showering.

Now, as a nurse, it was easy to see the man had been
suffering from deep depression and probably needed to be institutionalized. No
one really knew what to do for him though, so he slowly wasted away into
nothing, until he finally died.

My parents had still tried to help him. Clear until
the end, Dad had continued renting his farmland, even after Zane had gone.

Sadly, I didn

t really feel bad when the news of
Dirk

s death reached me. I was already
in LA by that time and was aware that Zane

s dad had told him to leave after
he won the contest. He wanted Zane to live his dreams and not stay behind for
him. Zane hadn

t needed much coaxing, either. He

d dreamed of getting off that farm
his whole life, not wanting to end up like his dad, so when Dirk encouraged him
to go, he did so without hesitation.

Well, it looked like that hadn

t worked out very good for either
of them.

A soft knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.


Mama?
Are you okay?

Dustin

s sweet voice carried through to me
and I quickly wiped my eyes and sat up.


You
can come in, sweetie.

The door opened a crack and he peeked inside.

I can hear you crying in my room.


I

m okay. Come here.

Holding out my arms, I gestured for
him to join me on the bed and he did so, wrapping his arms tightly around me.


Where

s .
 
.
 
. my dad?

This was going to be difficult.

I asked him to leave and stay away
for a bit, while I think some things over.


Is
he coming back?

He sounded worried.


I
hope so.

I released a long breath, not
sure how to approach this.

Daddy is sick, sweetie. He needs
some special help right now.


Oh.

He glanced up at me with concern
etched in his eyes.

Is he gonna die?

A burst of laughter escaped me and I squeezed him even
tighter.

I hope not.

That wasn

t the right answer apparently
because Dustin looked at me in alarm and I rushed to explain.


Zane
.
 
.
 
. your daddy .
 
.
 
. he has what

s called an addiction. It means he
drinks a lot

way too much to be healthy

and he also uses other medicines
and drugs that aren

t good for him. Those things are
making him sick. He

s been getting treatment at the
place where I work. That

s how we found each other again. He

s really trying to get things
together, but it

s going to take some time. Lots of
time.


And
we don

t get to see him anymore?

The poor kid sounded broken
hearted.


We
can. I

m just worried about whether or not
it

s good for us to be with him right
now, while he tries to get everything together.


I
thought you told me we are supposed to help people when they need it.


Oh,
sweetie, I did. But sometimes in life walking away is the smartest thing to do.
I think that

s the case here. That

s why I asked Zane for time to
think things over.


We
learned about drugs in school. They can kill you.

He
paused and wrinkled his nose.

I hope they won

t kill my dad. I like him. He was
nice. He

s a good person.

It was incredible to view the world
through the eyes of a child. Everything was so straightforward and written in
black and white. I missed being able to look at the world in that manner.


He
is
a very nice
person. I love him, too.

That really was an
understatement. Love wasn

t an adequate enough word to
describe what I felt for Zane.


Then
why won

t you help him so he can stay?


Because
he needed to be told to go, so he can do the things he really needs to do. Once
he realizes he wants to change his life, things will begin to be so much better
for him

for all of us.


But
what if it just makes him really sad and he gets drunk?

I shook my head.

Then I

ll have the answer I need.
Everything about our future together hangs in the balance of how he chooses to
act right now.

An incessant pounding on the door awakened me and I
glanced around finding Dustin sleeping on the bed next to me, the television
still on from the night prior. Glancing down, I realized I hadn

t even changed out of my clothes.

More pounding.

Someone was at the door and banging on it in a big
way. Immediately, I wondered if something bad had happened. Fear gripped me.

Zane.
Jumping from the bed, I rushed to
the front entryway, attempting to smooth my tangled hair as I moved along
before giving up.


Coming,

I called out right before I swung
the door open, only to be assaulted by massive bright light and the flicker of
many light bulbs.


Aubrey
Hart, can you tell us how long you

ve known Z McCartney?

a woman shouted over the noise,
shoving a microphone in my face.


Is
it true that Z is the father of your son?

Other books

Kathryn Caskie - [Royle Sisters 02] by How to Engage an Earl
Player by DeLuca, Laura
Wishful Thinking by Elle Jefferson
Scent of Darkness by Christina Dodd
On the Loose by Christopher Fowler
Devil's Punch by Ann Aguirre
Hiding the Past by Nathan Dylan Goodwin
Rust Bucket by Atk. Butterfly
The Bhagavad Gita by Jack Hawley