Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Clay put his phone down and came forward, and every muscle in Jax's body tensed.
"I was just texting you to see where you were," Clay said.
"What are you doing here?" he asked tightly.
"Looking for you, of course." Clay turned to Kaia and offered his hand. "Clay Henning. And you are?"
"Kaia Mercer." She shook his hand, giving him an unabashedly curious look. "How do you know Jax?"
Clay cleared his throat, then said, "We're old friends."
"Really?" Her questioning gaze turned to him.
He couldn’t begin to explain his relationship with Clay. "I'll tell you later," he said.
"I'm going to hold you to that."
As she moved away, he led Clay around the pool and into his apartment. As soon as he stepped through the door, he turned on him in anger. "What the hell, Clay? I told you never to come here."
"It's time we talked face-to-face," Clay said.
"I told you I'd get back to you next week."
"Well, I decided I couldn't wait that long. That stunning redhead is the woman in the photos, isn't she? She lives here?"
"She does."
"What's going on there?"
"Nothing you need to be concerned about."
"Wren saw the photos."
"So what?" he asked, daring Clay to tell him he should care what Wren thought, but Clay was smart enough not to go there.
"Does Kaia know who you really are?"
"Yes. But she doesn't know the whole story, just parts of it."
"Well, she can find a lot of different versions of the story online."
"You didn't come here to talk about Kaia, so let's cut to the chase."
"All right." Clay folded his arms across his chest. "I want you and Wren to bring Blackbird back to life. I want you to sign a new contract with Silverstone," he said, referring to one of Nashville's rising labels.
"Silverstone?" he echoed in surprise. "Why would they want anything to do with us after we were dropped by the Carrolton Group?"
"Because Mac Silverstone loves your music. He thinks that if Wren does a teary mea culpa and talks about her recent rehab and the mistakes she has made, the fans will come racing back, and you'll be bigger than ever."
"It's not going to be that easy."
"It might be. Mac also likes the song she wrote, the one I sent you, but it still needs an ending, only one you can provide."
Suddenly feeling weighed down by his old life, he pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down. Clay took the seat across from him.
"You can get your life back, Jason," Clay said.
"Who says I want it back?"
"Of course you want it back. Why wouldn't you? You can't spend the rest of your life rebuilding guitars," he said, tipping his head toward his workspace. "You're far too talented as a musician."
"A musician with a tarnished reputation. The things that have been said about me…" He shook his head. "It went beyond anything I imagined."
"That will change when Wren comes clean."
"Why would she do that now? And how far is she even willing to go? I've known her longer than you, and she loves to create a narrative that makes her look good. She doesn't care about anyone else."
"She can't do that this time. Not with everything that happened. She wants to apologize, to make amends. Didn't you read her lyrics?"
He shook his head. "I read them. It's a nice start to a song. The lyrics would probably resonate with a lot of people, but I don't know that I believe them."
"She hurt you."
"It's not that simple, Clay."
"You're right."
"Look, if Wren wants to perform again, she can do it on her own. She can find any number of musicians to back her up. She's the star. She always has been. She will be a very successful solo artist."
"You're wrong. You might think you were in the shadows, but you were the reason why she could be so bright, so good. Her songs had depth and meaning because of you. You made her great, and she made you great. Most importantly, your fans want to see you together."
"What about what I want?" he asked.
"Do you know what you want?" Clay challenged.
Silence followed the question because he couldn't find the right words. He had some thoughts that were taking shape now that he'd finally woken up, but he wasn't ready to talk about them.
"You shouldn't make a final decision without talking to Wren," Clay said when he remained silent. "Maybe that will give you the clarity you need."
"I told her we were done months ago. Nothing has changed."
"She's changed."
"Has she?" he asked doubtfully.
"I think this time is different."
"Do you know how many times I've told myself that, Clay?"
Clay let out a frustrated sigh. "I know she's said that before, but I've talked to her, and I've seen a change.
I know the two of you have a long history that I may not understand.
But it's the present and the future I'm more concerned about.
You're both my clients, and this is a great deal.
I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't force you to at least listen to what is being offered. "
"You did your job. You told me. Now, you can go back to LA."
"Not without you promising to at least think about it and to consider talking to Wren. If not her, talk to Silverstone. I can set up a meeting any time. But this offer won't be on the table forever."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take."
Clay gave him an exasperated and confused look. "I don't understand your hesitation. You have a chance to make everything right, to get your life back on track. Look at where you're living. Think about that luxury apartment with the river views."
"I've got a beach outside my door."
"You're blinded by anger. But I can see past all that. I can see you playing incredible music and making so many people happy. How can you just walk away from your calling?"
"I already walked away," he reminded him. "The better question would be—why would I come back now?"
"Because of everything I just said. You love music. You're the best version of yourself when you're doing what you love." Clay paused. "You know who told me that?"
He met his gaze, then slowly nodded. "Me."
"Exactly. I wouldn't be pushing this if I didn't think it would be good for you." Clay got to his feet. "And, yes, it would be good for me, too. I won't lie about that. I'll call you in a few days, and I'm hoping you'll give me a different answer then."
He was happy when Clay finally left. Unfortunately, the chaos in his head and his heart that Clay had brought with him remained, and he had no idea what to do about it.
Kaia got up Sunday morning, feeling as tired as when she'd gone to bed, which hadn't happened until after midnight.
But she was happy to have the day off, and she couldn't wait to see Jax again.
Not only did she want to hear Reina's music, but she also wanted to find out who Clay Henning was and why Jax had been so angry to see him at his door.
After showering and throwing on shorts and a T-shirt, she made coffee and scrambled an egg with some avocado and cheese. She'd just finished eating when a knock came at her door.
Since her friends dropped by all the time, that wasn't unusual, but she was surprised and also excited to see Jax on her doorstep.
He was dressed in gray shorts and a black polo shirt, which showed off his broad shoulders and fit body.
His handsome face and striking blue eyes sent a compelling wave of desire right through her.
She felt as if she'd just been crushed by a rogue wave at the beach, and now she had to get her bearings.
"Morning," he said. "I missed you last night."
"I missed you, too. Come in."
"How was work?"
"Long, but nothing too serious."
As he moved into her apartment, she saw his gaze taking in the artwork on her walls, the soft white couches accented by colorful pillows and throw blankets, the coffee table holding a pile of books, and the empty coffee cup and chocolate wrapper.
"You like to read," he commented as he picked up a fantasy novel that was almost five hundred pages. "Or do you use this as a paperweight?"
"I like to read," she said with a laugh. "And I drink coffee and eat chocolate, so there you go. You know three of my favorite addictions."
He grinned. "Coffee, not wine?"
"Sometimes there's wine," she conceded. "I'm part of a book club here in the building. Some of those books were my choice, some were not. But I'm really enjoying the fantasy novel. I'm only halfway through, and it's rich and complex. I can't wait to see what's going to happen next. Do you read?"
"I like biographies about people I never heard of—people who did amazing things and were often unsung heroes."
"Were any of those people musicians?"
"No. I spend enough of my life in that world; I don't need to read about it."
"Speaking of musicians, I'd still like to hear Reina's record. Did you listen to it?"
"I did. The quality is fairly poor, but her voice and her passion still comes through. Her sister's record is good, too, but I preferred Reina's song. It felt less commercial."
"Well, Anita probably had more people forcing her to be commercial."
"I'm sure she did. What's your plan today? Do you want to come downstairs and have a listen?"
"I would love to do that. I don't have any plans beyond relaxing." Her words were cut off by the buzzing of her phone on the counter. "Hang on. Hopefully, this isn't work with an emergency request." As she picked up her phone, she said, "It's Ben. He wants me to call him. That doesn't sound good."
"Do you want me to go?"
"No," she said immediately. "Could you stay?"
"Sure."
She picked up the phone and punched in Ben's number. "What's going on?"
"I just brought Dad to the hospital, under protest, I might add," Ben said.
Her stomach dropped. "What happened?"
"I'm not sure. He was tired and grumpy yesterday and wouldn't tell me much of anything, so I stayed the night.
He got up this morning, felt dizzy, and fell in the bathroom.
When I got to him, he was slurring his words and seemed confused.
I don't know if he was half asleep or what, but when we got here, his blood pressure was also very high, so they're going to run some tests.
He's also having X-rays taken of his wrist, which he might have broken.
Luckily, he doesn't seem to have hurt his back or hip. "
"Oh, my God!" Even knowing her dad had had some health issues in the past hadn't prepared her for this moment.
"He's okay for now," Ben said reassuringly. "He's where he needs to be. He's getting help. So just hang tight and try not to worry."
"I'm going to come down there."
"You don't need to do that yet, Kaia."
"From what you've described, I'm sure they're going to admit him. He may have had a small stroke, or something else could be going on. I'll leave now. I'll be there in an hour or so. Don't argue," she added. "You don't need to do this alone."
"Okay, I'll see you soon. We're at the Naval Hospital."
"Got it." She ended the call, her gaze meeting Jax's. "My dad is in the hospital. At the very least, he may have a broken wrist, but there could be other things going on. I'm sorry, but I have to go see him. Ben told me not to rush down there, but I don't have a good feeling after what he told me."
"Of course," Jax said. "Where is your dad exactly?"
"In 29 Palms. It's about an hour from here."
"I'll drive you."
"What?" she asked in surprise. "You want to go with me?"
"Yes."
"But, why?"
"Because it's like what you just told your brother, you don’t need to do this alone."
"It's probably going to be a wasted trip. My dad will be furious that I came. He'll want to send me away immediately."
"None of that matters. If you feel you need to see him, you should go. If it's a wasted trip, then that means everything is okay with your father, and you'll feel better about that."
"It's a generous offer—"
"Then take it," he said, cutting her off. "Get your things, and we'll go. I'll meet you at the car."
"Okay, thank you." She ran into her room to grab her shoes and her bag, happy to have Jax doing the driving because she was feeling very stressed about the whole situation with her dad, and it would be a long, worrying trip on her own.