Rex’s smile disappears instantly. He looks away, and I see him swallow deeply before he speaks again.
“Why are you telling me this?” he says, his voice speeding up. “I don’t care what some fucking teenager with a laptop writes on the internet. I don’t care about asinine rumors and the speculation of journalists. It might seem like the end of the world to someone young enough to be climbing walls and running from dogs, but I’ve seen real problems. I’ve had friends die before their time of drugs, seen careers ruined and talent wasted in the most disgusting, abhorrent ways you can imagine. And here you are talking to me about a fucking rumor! Here’s a bit of advice: Get the hell out off of my property, and don’t ever come here again!”
Rex turns back toward the staircase. In a split-second I see all the reasons I’m doing this, all of the things driving me to this point. If there’s one chance, this is it, and it’ll be gone if I don’t take it.
I grab Rex’s shoulder and spin him around to face me so violently the dogs on the steps stand to attention.
“You might not fucking care, but Haley does!” I roar, inches away from his face. “The only reason rumors don’t mean shit to you is because you’re hidden away out here! Behind your massive walls, and your dogs, and your shotgun. Nothing can touch the ‘great Rex Bentley.’”
I shove his shoulder away with disgust.
“Only you’re not great,” I continue, momentum behind me, “you’re just a selfish old man. A shell of a person. You want to talk about real problems? How about being a young girl who sees her father everywhere, who feels like everyone knows him but her, and who gets completely ignored by him? How about feeling like you’re unwanted, not good enough, for your own flesh and blood? How about sending hundreds of letters to the one man who’s supposed to love you, support you, teach you how to be a human being, and never getting a word in reply? Not a single fucking word.”
I stand there panting and tense, full of rage and fire. Rex’s stony glare only making me more violent. I keep talking – the only way I can keep myself from doing something physical.
“What you did was unforgivable. What you did would have broken most kids. Screwed them up for life. But not Haley. She still did what she loved. Did it without asking you for anything. Did it despite the fact that you crushed her. Did it better than people who had all the help in the world. Right now, she’s made something good, built herself a life, but those fucking rumors are about to take even that away from her. And she doesn’t have a mansion to hide away inside.”
Even the dogs are cowering back from me now.
“If you ever even thought about her, ever read one of those letters, ever considered giving her that one word – then now is the last chance you’ll ever get.”
“There’s nothing I can do—”
“Bullshit,” I cut him off. “Deny the rumors. Do it so that you can make up at least something for the years of pain you’ve caused. Do it so that you don’t spend the rest of your life in a big, empty mansion regretting who you are. Do it so that you can say you did at least one thing for another person when you’re on your deathbed. I don’t fucking care, but just fucking do it.”
Rex doesn’t move, everything about him fixed in place like an ancient carving. I scowl back at him, feeling drained from the force I put behind each word, from the empathetic hurt I dredged up inside of me. After it’s been long enough that I wonder if he’ll say anything at all, Rex speaks.
“Where did she get an A&R guy like you?”
“I already told you. I’m not an A&R guy anymore. I’m just Brando now.”
Rex’s nod is almost imperceptible.
“Okay. I’ll call a journalist and do it today.”
I open my mouth to speak, but saying the words ‘thank you’ doesn’t seem right. I let the promise hang in the air like a reminder, and turn slightly to go.
“How is she?” Rex says, before I look away.
I smile darkly with the weight of it all.
“She’s a lot of things,” I say. “Too much to tell you myself.”
I turn around, the long, curving, gravel driveway feeling like it leads somewhere better, and take a few steps, before stopping suddenly and turning back. Rex is still standing there, still unmoved. The bastard.
“You know,” I say, taking a step back toward him, “I swore I’d do this right, do this the old-fashioned way, when the time comes. But I never figured it would be like this. I figured that I’d ask for it, but to tell you the truth, I’m sick of asking for things, so instead I’ll just tell you. I’m going to marry your daughter.”
Chapter 18
Haley