Outside the bathroom, I saw Eddie walking into his office that was down a narrow hall past the supply closet. The office door opened just before I glanced away, showing me the inside of it for the first time.
Seeing a picture, I frowned and took off down the hall, needing to see if what I saw was a trick of the light or my own imagination…
Or reality.
My heart pounding, I reached the door just as it started to close, and I pushed it open, stepping in as Eddie let out a curse.
All the air was suddenly pushed from my lungs as if someone had forced it out of me as I glanced from one picture to another behind his desk. My mind couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing.
Pictures, or rather newspaper clippings, were framed and hung on the walls or propped up on the bookshelf beside binders for his taxes. All of them of my mother. Some of them of her with Daddy, or me and Jagger, or one of my uncles, but there was no mistaking they were of her.
“What the fuck is this?” I exploded, turning to face the bartender.
His hands held up cautiously, he took a step forward, but I quickly took two back, afraid of him.
“I can explain,” he rushed to assure me. “It’s not what you think.”
“I-I don’t know what to think,” I stuttered, glancing back at the frames. This was some kind of weird, scary stalker bullshit, and I knew I needed to run far, far away from this man. Yet my feet felt rooted to the spot.
“Ember Jameson is my daughter,” he said in a strangled voice. “I’m your grandfather, Mia.”
“No,” I whispered. “No. My mother never knew her father. And her mother…” I shuddered, remembering all the horrible things Momma once told me her mother did to her when she was a little girl. The drugs. The men. The broken bones.
Angrily, I turned on him. “Did you hurt my mother too?” I demanded, stepping forward. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do to him, but I wanted him to hurt as badly as that little girl Momma had been once had.
“Hurt…? Hurt my little Emmie?” he choked out, shaking his head. “I never would have harmed a hair on her head. She was my baby girl. I loved her—love her—with every part of my heart.”
“Then where were you when she was being abused?” I yelled. “Where were you when she needed her father?”
“Searching for her!” he exploded, just as angry as me now. “Her mother and I were getting a divorce, and I came home from work one day to find the house packed up and my little girl gone. I searched all over for her, and when I couldn’t find either of them, I called the cops. But they wouldn’t help me. No one would help me.” The last words were whispered, complete and utter heartbreak in his green eyes.
The first time I’d met Eddie, there was something about him that was eerily familiar, and now I understood why. It was small things, but I realized he looked subtly like Momma. Which meant he looked like me too because everyone said I was her clone.
“Then when she was about fifteen, she suddenly was in magazines and newspapers and on television. All because of Demon’s Wings. They adopted her, and from what they were telling everyone, Jesse Thornton was her half brother, meaning his dad was her father. I was pissed, because that was my little girl. But when I got to the concert they were at and I saw her with those boys, I realized how happy she was. If I made noise about her being mine and took her away from those damn rockers, I knew she would hate me. Lord knows what kinds of fucked-up shit her mother told her about me. Cal
l me a coward, but I couldn’t face my little Emmie’s hate. So I came home and prayed to every damn god I could think of that she would want to find me one day.”
His hand waved toward all the pictures. “Every time she was in the news, I cut out her picture and put it here or in my bedroom at home. It made me feel like I was still a part of her life, just at a distance. The day she had you was one of the happiest of my life. Then her wedding day, and later on, my grandson’s birth. I followed every moment of her life I could.”
Slowly, everything he’d just told me began to digest, and I felt tears sting my eyes. “I wish you would have found her when she was little. She needed you so much. But… But maybe if you had, she wouldn’t have met my dad. She never would have become their manager. There might not have been a Mia or a Jagger.”
His sigh was sad and heavy. “I know. I think about that all the time. The what-ifs kill me. Selfishly, I want that time back, but I wouldn’t ever want to take you or your brother away from her.”
We were both quiet for a minute before I realized what I had to do. “I have to tell her.”
A cocktail of fear and hope mixed in his eyes. “She won’t want to know me.”
“Yes, I’m very sure she will. This is going to be a huge shock to her, though. I don’t even know if she remembers you. My dad met her when she was only five. Before that, if she has any memories of that time, she never speaks of them. I think it’s too much for her. Remembering the abuse her mother would inflict on her.”
Pain flashed over his wrinkled face. “My poor Emmie.”
“Mia!”
I went still at the sound of Barrick roaring my name. Groaning, I backed away from Eddie. “I have to go. But… She will be here Monday. May I bring her to see you?”
He nodded eagerly, even as the fear won out in his eyes. “I would like that.”
I gave him a small smile and opened the door. Making sure to close it behind me, I rushed down the hall. Barrick stood half inside the ladies’ room. “Mia?”