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Stardust (The Starlight Trilogy #3) Page 8
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Thunder roared, fragmenting the tense silence. Aidan uncurled his fist. Violence had caused his mother’s death. Violence had ended his relationship with Beth. No good would come of him beating his father to a bloody pulp.
“Pop, your punishment isn’t going to be by my hand. I’m tired of throwing punches. I’m tired of beating myself up and hating who I am.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m just so fucking tired.”
“Son.” Dr. Evans placed a hand on his shoulder.
Aidan jerked away from him. “Don’t ever call me that again. You don’t deserve a son, and you certainly never deserved my mother.” He motioned to the piano. “I’ll be arranging for a moving company to come and collect that. You better not get in my way, or so help me.” He headed for the front door.
“Wait, Aidan! Why don’t you stay the night? Perhaps in the morning we can figure out a way to mend things.”
Aidan paused under the archway. “You don’t care about fixing our relationship. All you want is an outlet for your guilt, and I refuse to be your scapegoat anymore. I’ve been a victim for far too long already. I’m going back to the only person in this world who ever truly cared for me, aside from my mother. I sure as hell might not be decent, but I’m gonna try my best to be for her from now on. No more fisticuffs, no more bloodshed. I’m focusing on love, not pain.”
Dr. Evans took an imploring step toward him. “But I have prayed for redemption!”
Aidan hung his head, not out of intimidation, but exasperation. “You know something, Pop? I ran away from people I cared about because I thought I wasn’t worthy of their love and friendship. Tonight, I’ve learned a valuable lesson. What I’ve done can be righted if I try hard enough, but the shit you’ve pulled? Hell, there ain’t no redemption for that. You’re gonna have to live with your sins for the rest of your life, while hopefully, I’ll get another chance to start fresh.”
Dr. Evans folded his arms over his chest. “Is it an apology you’re after? Fine. I’m sorry.”
Aidan shook his head. “That’s not good enough.”
“What is it you need from me, then?”
Aidan sighed. His father would never comprehend how much he had suffered since his mother’s murder, no matter how hard he tried to explain. “We needed you the night she was attacked, in her hospital room in the days following, and I needed you when I cried myself to sleep every night for years after her death. It’s too late, Pop. You failed us both.”
“I did the best I could!” Dr. Evans stomped his foot. Now who was the one acting like a child? “If I had known what would happen to your mother, I never would’ve met up with Betty that evening.”
“That evening? So you don’t regret the affair, only seeing Betty that one fucking evening?” Aidan vibrated, as if every single molecule in his body had a personal vendetta against his father and couldn’t be tamed. “You’re despicable. I never should’ve come here. It’s a fucking waste of time trying to reason with you.”
Aidan punched the wall on his departure from the room. His father and Betty. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Sure, he didn’t think highly of his father, but he never would’ve pegged the man as an adulterer.
Had his mother?
Aidan collapsed against the wall in the front foyer. The hyperventilating resumed, the vertigo. He closed his eyes as tight as he could. Did his mother go to her grave knowing her husband had been unfaithful to her?
That goddamn bastard.
Aidan’s rage resurged, poisoning his residual patience and decency to the point of extinction. His muscles tightened, his heart thumped, his temples throbbed. Just the thought of his father was enough to launch his blood pressure into an unhealthy zone. Was this the person he wanted to be for the rest of his life—angry, contemptuous, and on the verge of violence all the time?
Beth had always said he was a good man. He never agreed but had often hoped the potential was there. But how could he rid himself of years of self-hatred and resentment toward his father? After all, his father was responsible for ruining his life. It was his father’s fault that he—
Aidan’s eyes shot open. So that’s why he was here tonight. It wasn’t to blame his father to ease his own guilt like his father had done to him for years, or to complain about how much his father had destroyed his self-worth. It was for a far greater and more complex reason—something he had never considered before, something that would finally allow him to move forward.
Forgiveness.
Aidan didn’t love his father and never would, but if he forgave the man, he could forgive himself for not being able to help his mother and come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t as bad as he thought he was all these years.
With the surest steps since his arrival, Aidan returned to the living room. His father stood by the piano, the baseball bat resting at his feet.
“Pop?”
Dr. Evans startled. When his gaze landed on his son, a scowl overtook his lips. “What is it?”
“I forgive you.”
He huffed. “You forgive me? Is this some kind of joke?”
“It’s either revenge or forgiveness, and I’m done with all the negativity. After everything that happened to our family, I need to release my hostility to move on. I owe it to myself, my mother, and the girl I left behind.” Conviction strengthened Aidan’s delivery, lending him the tone of a man far beyond his years. “I forgive you because if there’s ever a chance of me starting over, I can’t harbor any more pain, and your confession has been the most painful of all.”
Dr. Evans’ expression morphed from surprised to furious. His lips peeled back, revealing clenched teeth. “How dare you act as if this is solely my fault. I didn’t tell you about Betty to give you a crutch to deflect the blame from yourself. I’m not a monster!”
“Well, neither am I.” Aidan squared his shoulders. It felt good to say that and truly mean it. With his purpose fulfilled, he headed for the door again.
“You still could have done something, you coward!” Dr. Evans spewed his remarks from the living room. The menace in his voice followed Aidan down the corridor. “You hear me? I’m not the only one responsible for her death!”
Aidan exited the house, muffling his father’s shouting with the closing of the front door. The fog had lifted, revealing a full moon and a twinkling sky. The walk to his Porsche was completed with a grin on his face that rivaled the radiance of the stars. The grief and sorrow he still had to contend with, but finally, he was free from the guilt that had imprisoned him since childhood.
After checking the gas gauge, he secured his seatbelt and shot off down the street. The rain hit the windshield so hard even the fastest speed of his wiper blades couldn’t clear it properly. Familiar with the car’s handling, he eased his foot down on the gas pedal without worry. His father had called him a coward for not saving his mother, but his only cowardly act was abandoning Beth. He was thousands of miles from L.A. but vowed not to rest until she was in his arms again.
Although Aidan regretted leaving her, he didn’t regret coming to Chicago. The knowledge and self-discovery he had gained on his trip were what had been missing in their relationship previously. Now he could love her the right way and set them on a healthier path. He just hoped it wasn’t too late to earn her forgiveness.
Chapter Ten
Nathan Taggart’s footsteps echoed along Hollywood Boulevard as though he walked on a vacant soundstage at Starlight Studios—the place where he’d been imprisoned for the last six years. On the outside, he seemed to have it all, but he was no more authentic than the fantasies played out in the motion pictures created by his employer. He was the studio’s main “fixer”, with the power to cover up scandal, obtain anything for anyone, and make dreams come true. Yet he was forced to compromise his own ideals, his own dreams, on account of bribery. The most devastating consequence was the loss of Olivia, whose love he accepted eagerly, selfishly, even though he didn’t deserve her.
Nathan missed Olivia’s laughter, her enthusiasm, her optimis
m. Foolishly, he believed that her goodness and faith in him that he, too, was good was enough to counteract the aspects of his life of which he was not proud. Instead, his deceit chipped away at their union and overrode his positive traits until all of his faults were revealed and she was faced with the truth about the man she thought she knew.
Nathan was convinced he would pay for his actions eventually, but he’d always thought the cross would be his to bear alone. Unfortunately, not only did he destroy his relationship with Olivia, but he also ruined his friendships.
When Nathan found Beth trapped in Mr. Mertz’s office, he was disgusted with himself. He had carried out deplorable orders for Mr. Mertz in the past, but nothing on that scale. Indecency toward women was something he would never tolerate. If he were aware, he never would’ve allowed it to happen. Somehow, he would’ve put a stop to it.
Ignorance was no excuse, however. He should’ve suspected that Mr. Mertz’s depravity would extend to such horrible acts. Even though he was not directly involved in this aspect of his boss’s business, his silence regarding other matters made him just as guilty.
Seven days had passed since everything fell apart. Nathan had yet to return to the Bel Air or Malibu houses he’d lived in since joining Starlight Studios. Instead, he checked into the Roosevelt Hotel—charging his stay to the studio—and reported for work every morning as usual. He was devastated to the point of numbness, which enabled him to avoid tipping off Mr. Mertz and his colleagues that something was wrong. Meanwhile, he secretly devised a plan to never return. He couldn’t be a silent player for much longer.
Rumors circulated around the studio that an incident had occurred with Mr. Mertz, but details were scarce. Mr. Mertz kept a low profile and chose not to have Aidan and Matthew arrested. He valued his pride too much to reveal their attack on him. He even paid off the security guards who showed up in the aftermath, and Charlie, who manned the front gate.
For the first time in years, a studio cover-up happened without Nathan’s assistance. On behalf of Mr. Mertz, he had hushed various scandals involving many of the studio’s top stars—adultery, homosexuality, and alcohol and drug abuse were some of the common themes—anything that would damage an individual’s career or the studio’s reputation. But this he would have no part in.
Nathan wasn’t sure if Ethel, Mr. Mertz’s longtime secretary, knew what was going on behind her boss’s office doors, but following the incident with Aidan, she had to be aware now. Since then, however, she had been stationed at her desk, carrying on with her job as though nothing vile had happened. Caroline also continued to play the role of dutiful secretary. What had they been bribed with? What lies had they been fed to get them to stay and keep quiet? Sure, Nathan’s continued presence on the lot suggested that Mr. Mertz still had hooks in him, too, but at least he was trying to break free. If Ethel and Caroline were smart, they’d get out sooner rather than later.
The official word from the studio was that Golden Gloves was terminated permanently. Elia Kazan demanded a meeting with Mr. Mertz when the news broke, but he was ignored.
Nathan heard that Beth returned to her hometown of Clarkson. He wouldn’t blame her if she never came back to L.A. As for Olivia—well, he didn’t know her location at all. His search into where she’d fled turned up nothing. Aidan’s whereabouts were a mystery, too.
Aidan was obviously troubled long before he came to Hollywood, but Nathan never investigated his past. For once, he refused to use the skills Mr. Mertz taught him to pry into someone else’s private life. Shamefully, that didn’t stop him from exploiting Aidan’s weaknesses to execute his revenge against Mr. Mertz.
When Nathan informed Aidan of what he’d witnessed between Beth and Mr. Mertz, he thought he did it because they were friends and Aidan needed to know the truth. But the relief he felt when Aidan went after his boss confirmed his real motive: Mr. Mertz would finally get what he deserved.
Nathan regretted that he didn’t stand up for himself and the people he cared about. While Matthew and Aidan defended the women they loved, he let Olivia walk out of his life without a fight and lost everything. Mr. Mertz’s hold on him was too strong to have done anything else at the time, but it had now come to the point where regardless of the consequences, he, too, had to take drastic action.
Near Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue, Nathan stopped in front of a small movie theater in such need of refurbishing it looked abandoned. This weekend, the featured film was one of his favorites. But he’d known that when he started his walk tonight, hadn’t he?
He stared at the marquee for a few minutes before he assembled the courage to approach the box office. “One for the nine o’clock showing, please.”
The ticket agent grinned. “It’s been quiet ’round here for a while. A young man like you interested in the classics gives me hope for the new generations of moviegoers. These days, everyone would rather go see the talkies with their big budgets and fancy Technicolor. I just don’t get it.” He shrugged. “Anyway, that’ll be ten cents, mister.”
Nathan paid and entered the building. In recent years, the only time he went to movie theaters was on official business. He was able to screen films at the studio whenever he liked, so there was never the need to see them the old fashioned way. He had grown detached from many things since he began working for Mr. Mertz. It felt good to reclaim some normalcy again.
Nathan sat in the back row and placed his fedora on the chair beside him. Only two other people were here—a couple holding hands and whispering in the dark. A frown graced his lips. There was a time when the theater would’ve been packed with patrons. Yes, the great technological advancements over the last twenty years had turned out many incredible films, but where was the appreciation for the origins of motion pictures? Recognition of the people who pioneered the film industry and influenced the movies made today?
The low hum of the projector filtered in from the back room and the film’s credits appeared onscreen. Jubilant theme music followed. With the commencement of the opening scene, a mix of pride and sorrow broke through Nathan’s numbness.
A beautiful blond woman strolled down a crowded city street with impeccable poise, dressed in a stylish hat, blazer, and complementary skirt. The camera zoomed in on her smiling face, capturing her at the height of her popularity at Starlight Studios—when she looked the way he always wanted to remember her—before her mental illness took hold and dried up the life within her vibrant blue eyes.
Nathan gripped the armrests and breathed deeply, keeping his eyes on the screen. No matter how painful it felt, he couldn’t leave. He needed a reminder of why he’d agreed to do Mr. Mertz’s bidding in the first place, a reminder that amongst his many sins was a purpose that was honorable and pure.
Six years ago on a crisp spring afternoon in New York City was where it all started. He was a naïve young man then, just shy of his eighteenth birthday…
Nathan exited the elevator and stepped onto the ward. White walls, tilted flooring, and silence surrounded him. It seemed like he was the only one here. According to the wire he received this morning, his mother was admitted three days ago. No information was provided on the extent of her condition. He had no idea how they found him. She always went by her professional moniker.
Marion Taggart, known as Marion Whitney publicly, had worked at Starlight Studios for over twenty years. She was the most popular silent film actress until talking pictures arrived and her attempt to transition to sound failed. She continued to make movies but never reclaimed her status. When her star faded completely, Nathan only heard from her through letters. He received the last one six months ago.
Marion had lived in Los Angeles during her time with the studio but insisted it was not the proper place to raise a child. She sent Nathan to live with his father on the family ranch in Salinas, California while she worked in Hollywood.
For years, Nathan cut out pictures and articles from entertainment magazines to gather information on his mother, and whenever
her films played at the local theater, he’d steal a nickel from his father’s change jar in the kitchen and ride his bicycle into town to watch her.
Nathan’s fondest memories were his mother’s visits to Salinas during his summer and winter breaks from school. She wore extravagant clothes, and her hair and makeup were flawless, like she’d just stepped off a film set, not a country bound train. His bleak life on the ranch always brightened in her presence. She never stayed long, though, explaining that she needed to return to Hollywood to make money so she could give him everything he wanted.
All he wanted was her.
His father, Lloyd Taggart, was a proud rancher who loved horses almost as much as he loved the bottle. In the evenings, Nathan often found him passed out in his favorite wicker chair on the front porch, surrounded by the acres of property paid for by his wife’s monthly checks.
In their household, it was assumed Nathan would help his father run the ranch full time after high school. But Nathan wasn’t interested in that life. He planned to tell his father in his senior year but never got the chance. Lloyd was killed when one of his stallions kicked him in the head, rendering him unconscious, and he choked on his own liquor-saturated vomit. Nathan discovered his bloody body the next morning. He never returned to high school after that. Neither did he become a full time rancher.
Following his father’s death, Nathan couldn’t reach his mother—calls to her West Hollywood, Malibu, and New York homes yielded no response—so the bank seized the property. He didn’t particularly want to keep the ranch, but it was still tragic to lose it under such circumstances. When his mother finally contacted him, from a foreign address in Manhattan she referred to as her new main residence, he wrote her back with news of her husband’s death as well as the foreclosure. He never received a reply.
Six months later, Nathan relocated to New York with barely a nickel to his name. Fast-paced urban life was very different from what he was used to. The streets were crowded, the housing options he could afford were dismal at best, and the air was thicker, infused with a chemical smell that burned his nostrils. Nevertheless, the energy of the city and the seemingly endless professional opportunities inspired him. There were many esteemed national newspapers based out of New York. He hoped to get a job at one of them and work his way up the ranks to become a columnist eventually.