Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Rae

S hame coated my throat like thick, rancid syrup, leaving an awful taste behind and threatening to choke me. The silence that had enveloped the room pressed down on my shoulders so hard I felt as if it might flatten me right into the plush, four thousand dollar area rug beneath my feet.

My parents had lapsed into silence more than five minutes ago, after I'd finished explaining, in great detail, the events that had taken place the night before, and honestly, I would have preferred they yell. It would have been so much better if they'd screamed and cursed and raged at my stupidity. Anything other than their silent disappointment that was slowly suffocating me.

I could see the exhaustion on their faces, the jetlag hunching their tired frames from the hours they'd spent awake. All because of me. My father had been on the European leg of his tour, performing in sold-out stadiums for eager fans who were dying to see him live for the first time in fifteen years. I'd been eight when he made the decision to stop touring. He hadn't wanted to disrupt my life more than necessary by dragging me along for months at a time, and he couldn't stand being away from my mom and me for more than a day or two at a time. When he announced earlier that year that he'd be hitting the road again to promote his latest album, they couldn't put the tickets up fast enough. Shows across the globe sold out in record time.

With me being grown and out on my own, my mother decided it was the perfect time to go with him, working her schedule out so that they could use the trip as a second honeymoon of sorts. She had retired from performing a while back, claiming no one wanted to see a middle-aged burlesque dancer. However instead of taking it easy, she started choreographing for hit Broadway musicals and other productions that took her all over. The good thing was she could make her own schedule, accept whatever jobs she wanted and pass on others.

At that very moment, my father was to be enjoying the one night he had off before having to hit the stage in Liverpool and performing for a crowd of thousands of excited fans, not here with me, having used what little free time he and my mother had to contact his lawyer to get his only daughter out of lockup and clean up the mess I'd created.

Never in my entire life had either of them told me I let them down, but I knew I'd disappointed them more times than I could keep count. Especially in the past four years since I'd decided to pack up and move to L.A., insisting I was ready to make it on my own. When it turned out that being a grownup entailed a hell of a lot more than I had been prepared to handle, they hadn't blinked at helping me out.

Not once did they throw in my face that they were still taking care of me, even from an opposite coast. From my luxury condo, to the cherry red Beamer down in the parking garage, to my utilities and groceries. They basically covered the cost of everything I needed in order to survive. I may have moved out, but I wasn't doing a damn thing on my own. That was for sure. They bankrolled my entire life, all while hoping I'd eventually get my shit together. But I had a feeling all of that was about to change.

"Will one of you say something? Please? I can't take the silence. I know you're pissed."

My father stood at the huge glass windows that overlooked the city below. His shoulders sagged on a massive sigh as he hung his head in disappointment. He wouldn't even look at me, and that probably hurt worse than anything else. I'd always been a daddy's girl. From the moment I came into this world, I had a bond with my father that had never wavered. My mom loved telling me stories of how he used to walk around the house for hours, holding me against his chest because he couldn't bring himself to put me down. It got so bad he bought one of those kiddie backpack things so he could strap me to his chest when he needed the use of his hands.

I was his girl. I lost count of the number of songs he'd written just for me, no one else, using them to sing me to sleep at night. Knowing I'd messed up so bad he couldn't bring himself to look me in the eye was like a knife straight to the heart.

"What do you expect us to say?" my mom asked, drawing my attention to her. The disappointment reflected back at me in her gaze was like taking a punch from a professional MMA fighter. My stomach twisted painfully, everything I'd put in it over the past twenty-four hours threatening to come up.

I hadn't only let them down, I'd failed at becoming a functioning member of society, something every human being on the planet did. They were finally seeing that now, and it crushed them, which, in turn, devastated me.

I shook my head, lowering my gaze to my lap where I was clutching my fingers. "I-I don't know," I said on a low whisper. "I'm so sorry. I know I screwed up?—"

"You screwed up ?" My dad finally turned around to face me, but what I saw in his gaze made me wish he hadn't. It took everything in me to keep from bursting into tears and becoming a sobbing, snotty mess. "What were you thinking?" he asked, holding up his hand to cut me off before I could get a word out. "You know what? Don't bother answering that. I already know you weren't thinking."

"I—" The defense I had geared up, ready to throw out, died on my tongue. There was nothing I could say to fix this, no defense that wasn't at least partially bullshit. There were a million things I could have done to stop what happened the night before, starting even before Kendall pulled out those bobby pins and started on that lock. Yet I did nothing. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want to hear that you're sorry," my father clipped. The harsh tone was one he'd never used on me before. It caught me so off guard I flinched, causing the tears that had been welling in my eyes to break free and slip down my cheeks.

His expression went from enraged to ravaged at the sight of my tears. He'd always hated to see me cry, but as I watched, I could actually see him shoring up his defenses .

"This is over," he announced waving a finger above his head in a circle. "This lifestyle you've been living, this apartment, those worthless friends of yours— it's done. Finished."

"I-I don't understand. What are you saying?"

My mom took up explaining when he looked back out at the view, his hands planted firmly on his hips. "It means the gravy train has officially dried up. We've spoken to the family whose house you destroyed and offered to pay for all the repairs. In return, they've agreed not to press charges."

My shoulders sank in relief that turned out to be short-lived, because she wasn't even close to being done. "You'll be paying us back every single penny of what it costs to fix the damage you made."

I nodded in agreement. After all, it was only fair. "Okay. I'll find a job. I heard about this designer looking for models?—"

"That won't be necessary. I've already found you work."

My gut started to sink, a voice in the back of my head telling me this wasn't going to be good. "Y-you did?"

She nodded resolutely. "Sure did. You're going back to Hope Valley. I have a friend whose son runs the family ranch, and they're always in need of help. "

I shot to my feet, my hands clenched into tight fists at my sides. "But, Mom, my life is here! You can't expect me to pick up and travel to some Podunk town in the middle of nowhere for a few months while I work off my debt. What about my home?" I threw my arms out at my sides, indicating the condo I was standing in the middle of.

My father turned back to me, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture rigid. "Technically, this place belongs to me and your mother, and as of this moment, we're done paying for it."

Everything in my body locked up tight, including my lungs. I couldn't seem to pull in a full breath. "What?" I croaked as stars started dancing across my vision. "You—you can't do that."

"You moved out here because you were determined to make it on your own, remember? As far as your mom and I can tell, that has yet to happen, so we've decided it's time you get the chance to do just that. Make it on your own. We're putting this place on the market and using the money from the sale to go toward the cost of the damages. We've already been in contact with a realtor who's assured us this place will move fast. While you're working at the ranch, they'll provide housing, and your meals will be covered, but that's it. You'll be responsible for everything else. You'll be allowed to keep a portion of each paycheck to cover the rest of your expenses, but the remainder of it will go to paying us back."

"I don't even know the first thing about working on a ranch!" I cried, every fiber of my being rebelling against everything they'd set out in front of me.

I hadn't been back to Hope Valley in years . My parents always talked about how badly they'd wanted to raise me there, how it was such a wonderful place for a family. However, with both their jobs, staying in a small town for the long run simply wasn't feasible. I was little when we finally moved away, and though I remembered bits and pieces of the trips we'd taken back there over the years, I didn't have much memory of the place my parents were so fond of that they still kept a house there all these years later. They visited as much as their schedules allowed, but when I started turning my nose up at the small-town lifestyle, preferring the hustle and bustle of the city to the boring and quiet, they stopped making me tag along.

Going back now would be a nightmare.

"You'll receive on-the-job training," my mom said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "And hopefully they'll be able to teach you a few life lessons your father and I obviously failed to teach you ourselves."

I hated that they blamed themselves for the trouble I'd caused, but the guilt of that was overshadowed by the panic coursing through me at the idea that my entire world was being turned upside down and shaken like one of those magic eight balls.

I held my middle tight, trying to hide the fact that my whole body was starting to tremble. "What if I say no?"

My mother lifted a single shoulder in a shrug, but I could see the pain etched into her face. "You're an adult, Rae, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Your father and I can't make you do anything. But if you choose to stay here, you'll be doing it with no apartment, no car, no phone, and no credit cards, since I've already removed them from your wallet. Anything and everything we paid for is officially gone."

"So you expect me to give up everything and everyone I know to go live in Rednecksville with a bunch of hillbillies who couldn't do anything better with their lives?"

My dad slammed his hand down on the table beside him so hard the objects on top rattled before falling to the floor and shattering. The slap cracked through the apartment like a gunshot, making me jolt. I had never seen my father so angry before, and it was all directed at me.

"That is the last time you'll speak about that town and those people with that kind of disrespect. You understand me?" He jabbed his finger in my direction, his face growing red. "That place means more to your mom and me than you can possibly understand, and those are some of the best people you'll ever have the privilege of meeting. Moving away from there was one of the hardest decisions we ever had to make, and there isn't a day that goes by that we don't miss it and the friendships we built, the loved ones we left behind. Don't you dare speak ill of them ever again. Do you hear me?"

I blinked, causing more tears to break free as I nodded, unable to speak as I fought back the sob building in my throat.

"If I were you, I'd use this time to pack your things," my mom said, her tone flat as she stood from the sofa and started out of the living room. "We've already booked your flight out for tomorrow morning. And Rae?" She stopped at the mouth of the hallway that lead toward the bedrooms, turning to look at me over her shoulder, and when she did, I flinched at what I saw. "Don't let me hear that you went there and disrespected the people I love. It's bad enough you surrounded yourself with shallow, self-centered leaches during your time here, letting that poison rub off on you. I won't allow you to treat them the way all your so-called friends treated you when they left you to take all the blame."

With that perfectly placed shot, she turned and disappeared.

"I suggest you get to work," my father grumbled as he followed behind her. "Your flight is at seven in the morning."

Then I was alone, with nothing but my self-loathing to keep me company.