Shattered Glass Page 11

  * * * *

  Milo pulled into the driveway a little before six thirty that morning, determined to reverse the downward spiral of their relationship.

  I’ll come out of the closet, go to couples counseling. I’ll do anything to keep him mine. I have nothing if I don’t have Liam.

  He parked in the driveway and ran out of the car, leaving the car door open. He found the house unlocked. He shouted, “Liam, baby, where are you?” He searched the kitchen, the bedroom, the studio. He went back upstairs to see if Liam took any of his things with him. There in the bathroom, a pack of white powder sat on top of an open drawer. He opened it, wet his finger, dipped it in the bag, and tasted—cocaine.

  * * * *

  By ten o’clock, Liam hadn’t found any trace of Milo. He decided to go to the rehearsal studio and wait. In the now-vast entourage that was Shattered Glass, gossip traveled at warp speed. As soon as Liam arrived, someone told him that Danny’s wife had called minutes earlier. Liam knew something must be wrong because Nora never called while Danny worked.

  Liam spotted Danny from the platform. He sat in the corner closest to the studio stage. His large hands held his head and his shoulders shook. The sound of his sobs reverberated through the empty studio. Rick, Milo, and Bart had yet to show, and the crew took off to bring in coffee and donuts.

  In all the years Danny toured with the band, Liam never saw him so emotional. He moved closer to the equipment racks, hoping to ferret out the problem. Something terrible must have happened. Liam picked up his pace.

  Jesus, the man’s whole body looked shrunken. His face looked mottled and the rims of his eyes matched his red head. Liam sat down next to his friend. He could put aside his own troubles and see what happened.

  Not many knew Danny’s business, and he wanted it that way. Very few even knew Danny was married and had a kid.

  Liam whispered, “What’s up, old man?”

  “Jimmy has leukemia,” Danny answered in a flat tone. “The local hospital says it’s untreatable. Nora said one of the nurses told her to take him to John Hopkins. But our insurance doesn’t cover it, and he’s dying. He’s only eight years old, and he’s dying.”

  Liam embraced Danny and hugged him hard. “Don’t worry. Tell Nora we’ll have you, her, and Jimmy on a plane to Baltimore by this evening. I’ll drive you home and we’ll arrange for plane tickets as soon as we get there.”

  Rehearsal began in only twenty minutes and Liam didn’t want to piss Milo off. He drove Danny into Middletown and headed straight back to the rehearsal hall after making arrangements for the Hobbs family’s tickets to Baltimore and a hotel for Nora and Danny near the hospital.

  He broke all the speed limits trying to get back on time. He ran straight into Milo.

  “You must have fucked him all night!” Milo shouted.

  “No, I spent last night alone at the house after Rick left. Where the fuck were you?”

  “Thinking. And when I came home ready to talk, I found this.” Milo threw the plastic bag of cocaine at Liam.

  “What the fuck is that? It isn’t mine.”

  “Yeah, and the guy you spend all that time with isn’t your lover. I’ve been told more than once about your lying and cheating, and I always refused to listen. But there it was, right in front of my fucking eyes.”

  “Milo, let me explain. It isn’t what you think!”

  “I pulled in and saw you as you caressed his shoulder and kissed his ear. I saw you getting into your car with him. Go the fuck home, Liam. We’ll talk there. As for the rest of you, rehearsal is cancelled.”

  * * * *

  Milo sat next to Bart in a small out-of-the-way pub about four miles from home. He drank steadily all afternoon.

  “You know, Milo, I’ve stood back and watched him do this to you and mostly kept my mouth shut. But I have strong feelings for you and I don’t like to see you covered in shit. You got to remember, he’s so young, he couldn’t help it. He’s only been legal to drink for about twenty-four hours. Kids experiment.”

  “I know that, but this was Liam, my Liam.”

  “I hate to say this, but people have been talking for a long time, with him being so young and all.” Bart stroked Milo’s hair.

  “I’m no pedophile. I never touched him until he turned eighteen.” Milo’s head shot up.

  “But you had custody. Come on, Milo. It’s me. You never got a hard-on looking at him sleep? You never held him to comfort him and got an inappropriate erection?” Bart’s voice sounded both coaxing and condemning. It was smooth, Milo thought, too smooth.

  “No.” He pulled back into his own chair.

  “You can lie to me, but don’t lie to yourself. It’s better that you break the tie. If he gets busted, all of this will come out.”

  “You’re supposed to be my friend. Friends don’t think that kind of thing about each other.” Milo got up and threw a fifty on the bar. “I have to go. Even if he cheated, even if he did the drugs, you crossed the line with me today. I’m no child molester. I will confront Liam, because I have to. I can’t continue to live like this. But our friendship is over, buddy.”

  “You’re upset, I know. I won’t take that personally. I’ll be waiting to pick up the pieces, Milo, I swear.”

  Milo barely made it out to the car. Bart followed. “Watch it buddy, you are pretty loaded. Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”

  “No, I can throw the cheating bastard out of the house all by myself. I don’t need him, you, Sam, or anyone else.”

  Milo stewed all the way home. He hit the house shouting and swearing. “I saw you with your arm around his shoulder.” The idea that anyone else even touched Liam drove Milo into a frenzy.

  “I can explain, Milo. His kid is sick and—”

  Milo shouted over him, “Well explain this.” He threw a second bag of cocaine at Liam. “I found one in your bathroom this morning, and this in your guitar case this afternoon. Everything they said in Sizzle was true.” The thought of Liam as a druggie put Milo into a cold sweat.

  “Milo, somebody is setting me up. I swear to you on Lily’s grave.”

  “You fucking, cheating little freak! Don’t defame your dead mother’s memory with your dirty lies.” Milo stomped up to the bedroom. He started to fling Liam’s things out of their window to the front lawn.

  When he finished throwing clothes he pounded his fists on the dresser with such force the glass top shattered. He grabbed Liam and started to shake him, in a violent rage totally out of control. He flung Liam across the room so hard that Liam bounced off the bed to the floor. Tears ran down Liam’s face.

  “Milo, stop! I’m telling the truth.”

  “You wouldn’t know the truth, you little bastard, if it crawled up your ass and died.”

  “Milo, please, don’t hurt me.”

  Milo’s frantic rage came to a quick halt. “Get out! Get out of my house, get out of my life. I don’t need your shit. I don’t need you. You are nothing but a fucking boy whore, only you give it away for free. I’d have more respect for a whore. At least he has a reason for being a slut.”

  “I can explain what happened. I’ve never slept with anyone but you.”

  “Get out of my sight, you faithless fuck, before I beat the shit out of you.”

  Liam stared at him, his arms raised, tears rolling down his face. “Look, I’m going. I’ll see you at rehearsal. We’ll talk when you are sober. You’re not in your right mind.” He stood and backed toward the bedroom door.

  Milo shouted after him, “You’re not my burden anymore, kid. Get the hell out of my house.”

  Liam ran out of the house with only the clothes on his back.

  * * * *

  The next day at rehearsal, Liam again tried to explain what happened. “Milo, please listen. Give me a chance to explain.”

  “No explanations are either necessary or desired, you little prick.” Milo’s voice sounded slurred as he shoved him away. Liam smelled the bourbon thick on his breath. “If you g
et within a foot of me, I’ll kill you.”

  “Please, Milo, I beg you. I’ve never lied to you. Why would I start now? Please, at least hear me out!”

  “I’ve heard and seen enough, you little fuck. I don’t need you, in my life or in my bed.”

  By the end of rehearsal, Liam felt physically sick. Milo refused to talk to him. Liam sat alone on the sidelines while the band took a break. Everyone was afraid to go near him with Milo that wild. Then Liam looked up and saw Bart molding himself to Milo’s back, rubbing against his lover, using Milo as if he were a cheap fuck toy.

  Liam lost it. “You son of a bitch. You’re blaming me for cheating and that fucking bastard is crawling up your ass, something you never let me do.” Liam jumped from the stage onto Bart’s back and punched him in the face. Bart threw Liam off and turned back. The heavier man started to hit Liam around the face. The roadies pulled them apart.

  Instead of coming to Liam’s assistance, Milo began shouting at him. “You fucking little man-whore, you are a disgrace to the good woman who raised you. You’re a little miserable, conniving, fucking low-life bastard, selling yourself behind my back to feed a fucking drug habit. You’re a liar and a cheat. I never want to lay eyes on you again. I mean it, Liam. Do not go anywhere I can see you, especially not with that miserable son of a bitch. I’ll kill you both.”

  Something broke inside Liam, the constant jealousy and suspicion, the double-standard. He couldn’t live like that anymore.

  But how do I exist without him? I guess I’m going to find out.

  “Fine,” Liam answered. “You got it. I’m leaving, and I will not cross your bloody path ever again.” Liam walked out of the rehearsal and got on the cell phone, arranging for a ticket and a room at the same hotel in Baltimore where he registered the Hobbs family. At least he could be of use to someone.

  Chapter 8

  He lied to me about desire

  He lied to me about his love

  And when I thought we could go higher

  The closer I came the harder he shoved

  I fell into the fire

  Onto the pyre

  A martyr to love

  So now comes ice

  And not desire

  Don’t think twice

  I’m out of love

  Don’t think twice

  I’m a liar

  A martyr to love

  And desire

  I can’t live without his love

  —Milo Stamis, “Dearest Liar,” Words without Music

  * * * *

  Directly after Liam left, Milo slammed into the office to call Sam.

  “Sam—”

  “You did something stupid, didn’t you?”

  “If you mean throwing that little bastard out with the trash, then yes I did. I found two packets of cocaine, one in the bathroom at the house and the other in his guitar case. I also saw him cozying up to Danny Hobbs, and so did others. I’ve had enough. I’m coming into the city. Rent a suite at the Plaza, we’ll have a press conference there. He’s out.”

  “Jesus, Milo, you sound like you’re drunk! Who do you think you’re going to get for the new tour? It begins in two weeks.”

  “That’s your job, Sam. Besides, you already arranged for Borchoi to make guest appearances. Ask him to tour.”

  “But Borchoi isn’t Liam. Have you tried calling him? Why don’t you give both him and yourself a week to cool down? In the meantime, I’ll nail down Borchoi just in case.”

  “Get that suite. I can’t bear to be in the house.”

  “All right, but I think you are making a big mistake.”

  * * * *

  Rick stood right outside the office door and heard every word Milo said. Maybe Bart is right. With Liam gone, I might finally have some respect. But what if Liam calls him?

  Rick stepped inside the office. “I’m so sorry that you found out like that, bro.”

  “Leave me alone. I’m not in the mood for company. I’m going into Manhattan to stay for a few days. I’ll call you when we get this straight.”

  Rick saw Milo’s cell on the cabinet. They all had the same phone set up. Sam’s office had programmed all of the phones. He walked past and swapped them, shutting his own off and pocketing Milo’s. That should buy me some time.

  Before an hour passed, Milo’s phone rang. It was Liam. Rick answered.

  “Where’s Milo? I need to talk to him. I’d like a chance to tell him the truth and explain, if he’s calmed down and sobered up enough to listen. You know I’m not screwing around on him. Tell him.”

  “Wait a minute. I’ll see if he’ll come to the phone.”

  Rick put Liam on hold and waited over five minutes before picking up the line again. “I’m sorry, Liam. He won’t speak to you. You know how he gets.”

  Liam sounded resigned. “Could you at least tell Sam that I’m in Baltimore with Nora and Danny? Their son Jimmy has leukemia. He’s only eight and he’s dying. I’m pulling some strings to get him into an experimental chemo program. Ask Sam to explain it to Milo. He’ll listen to Sam.”

  “Sure thing, bro.”

  “I should be back in a few days.”

  “Don’t sweat it. Milo called off rehearsals for a week. I’ll tell them where you are. In the meantime, give Danny and his family our best.”

  Rick flew down the stairs to Bart to tell him what he did.

  Bart nodded his head. “Good thinking, buddy. Give me the phone and I’ll hide it somewhere. I’ll also send flowers from the band down to John Hopkins. If we didn’t, it would look suspicious.”

  Rick handed Bart the phone.

  “Now, you have to call your brother tonight and tell him you heard from Liam. Tell him Liam said he won’t come back to Shattered Glass, doesn’t want to talk to him personally because he’s so close to Milo, and is going to take some time to decide what to do next. Tell him he asked Sam to rent him a house, somewhere in Navesink, close enough to Rumson that it won’t look suspicious. If Sam asks where Liam is, tell him he’s somewhere in the islands with Danny, and you don’t expect to hear from him until he gets home.”

  Rick picked up the house line. “Sam, I heard from Liam. He’s gone somewhere to think.”

  “Where the fuck did he go? Is he coming back?”

  Rick paced the floor, nervously. “I don’t know if he’s coming back to Milo, or for that matter, the band. The kid needs space. He and Bart almost beat the shit out of each other. Then Liam and Milo got in a fight and Liam stormed out, said he was going away.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell his older brother the lie about Liam and Danny.

  “Liam? Got physical? He won’t even swat a fly. Are you high?” Sam’s voice sounded high-pitched and full of disbelief. “Have all of you lost your minds? Milo was drunk and now this!”

  “No, I’m not high. I’m stone-cold sober. Maybe this is for the best. Those two were like oil and vinegar. Makes a good salad dressing, but only stays married for the salad course of the meal.”

  “I don’t need any fucking folksy idioms, I need information. Tell me if he calls again.”

  “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

  * * * *

  Liam called Milo’s cell every day for ten days. Sometimes it went straight to voice mail, sometimes Bart answered and Liam hung up. With the Hobbs family settled into a rental house near the hospital, he couldn’t do any more in Baltimore. He decided to come home and try to confront Milo directly.

  Liam called Rick. “I don’t have Sam’s number on my cell. Can you call him for me?”

  “Um, hate to tell you this, but he’s totally taken Milo’s side. You know how close they are. He won’t talk to you right now. He’s pretty pissed he had to talk Bart out of pressing charges against you for assault.”

  “I’m on my way back to Rumson. Is Milo at the house?”

  “No, kid, he went off with Bart. They rented a house in South Beach. I expect them back any day.”

  Liam’s body trembled. “Are my things still at the house
?”

  “No, Milo had them moved. I talked Sam into renting a new place for you in Navesink so you’d have a place to go. I’ll meet you at the airport in the morning.”

  “I’ll have my car.”

  “But you won’t be in any shape to drive. Sam’s holding a press conference in three days. You have that long to get your ass back here in one piece.”

  “Okay. Thank you, Rick. You’ve been a real friend.”

  Liam missed the press conference, which Sam held that afternoon. He caught it in his hotel room as he was packing his suitcase to return home. He collapsed on the bed, yet another body blow.

  Rick met him at the airport the next day. “I’m sorry, man. Milo and Bart came back from their trip and Sam decided not to postpone the inevitable. He said to tell you when you are ready to do solo work, to call his assistant.” Liam arranged for a courier to drive his car to his new address and silently rode with Rick to his new home.

  He walked into the Navesink house to piles of boxes and cheap furniture. He didn’t give a damn. He disconnected the phone line Sam arranged, trashed his cell, and went into seclusion. The only contact he maintained with the outside world was Rick.

  * * * *

  The first few days, after he sobered up, Milo tried to the point of madness to find Liam and ask him what the hell really happened, but Liam couldn’t be found. It hadn’t taken Milo long after he cooled down to reconsider his actions. Even if the evidence against Liam damned him, Milo needed to hear from Liam what went wrong. He should have listened.

  However, after the rehearsal debacle, Sam claimed he didn’t know where Liam was, and Rick told them Liam was out of town but had no way to contact him. Despite everything, Milo felt guilty and mourned Liam’s loss. He thought they might still have a chance once he found him and Liam admitted fault. Then Bart tried to caress Milo’s ass with reporters staring right at them, and Milo exploded, firing Bart on the spot.

  Later, in his suite, Milo poured Sam a whiskey. “Fuck, Sam, maybe Liam didn’t stray at all.”

  “About time you saw reason.”

  “Maybe you’re right. Bart’s a prick and made a big play for me just before Liam left. He wouldn’t accept that I didn’t want him. I think I was inoculated against Bart because of Liam’s constant stress about the guy. It left a sour taste in my mouth I just can’t shake.” He took a long sip of his drink.