CHAPTER 7

 

Hey there! First off, I want to apologize for not updating in a while. Life got in the way, and to be honest, I didn't feel like there were many people reading it so I just went back and worked on editting some of the chapters, instead... because they just didn’t feel right. 

Thank you so much for the lovely reviews! Seriously, they mean a lot to me, and I really appreciate every single one of them. 

Also, after reading Lisa's book, I realized just how many things I got wrong — but hey, this is fiction, and I hope you enjoy this story for what it is.

Chapter 7

They were sitting on the couch in the library, Lisa hugging her legs to her chest tightly as she bounced between talking a mile a minute and falling into complete silence, staring blankly into space.

Her eyes seemed lost, as she slowly and absentmindedly sipped on the drink he had made for her earlier, her hands slightly trembling around the glass, while Michael sat on the other side of the couch, completely caught off guard. He was listening carefully, hanging on to every word, and staring at her with what he imagined must have been the dumbest expression on his face.

When she had run into his arms earlier that night, sobbing uncontrollably, he had struggled to make sense of it all because Lisa had to be just about the last person he had expected to see. And feeling her tremble in his arms had – quite honestly - scared the living daylights out of him, especially when, at first, he hadn’t even been able to get her to talk at all.

Just tears — streams of them, streaking her face, making his mind go into overdrive, jumping to the worst conclusions.

Someone had hurt her.

Something had happened to the kids.

Her boyfriend had done something unforgivable.

Now, sitting across from her and seeing just how distraught she really was, Michael wanted to reach out and pull her close, but he didn’t - uncertainty holding him back because only a few hours earlier, there - in front of her house in Hidden Hills, she had made it painfully clear where she stood when it came to him. And he was going to respect that.

And so all he could do was listen, hoping that somehow his presence was enough to give her the strength to finish her story…

 

After she had stopped sobbing in his arms just enough to ask if she could stay at his house for the night, he had slowly led her inside, through the entrance hall to the living room and guided her to the couch. Lisa sat down and he knelt in front of her, his hands gently resting on her trembling knees as he watched her closely.

“Girl… you’re really scaring me here. What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Her shoulders shook uncontrollably, and her hands trembled in her lap and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from her tear-streaked face softly, tucking it behind her ear.

“Lise... what can I do?” He asked, his voice low and full of concern.

His mind was racing with a million more questions he wanted to ask, but he shoved them aside for the moment, focusing only on trying to make her feel safe. That was all that mattered.

Eventually, good ten or fifteen minutes later, her sobs started to subside, and she looked at him, attempting a smile that, however, somehow turned into a crooked half-pout.

“I want a shower and a drink!” She blurted suddenly, emphasizing the latter and if he hadn’t been worried sick about her, he might have actually started chuckling at the mix of despair, stubbornness, and childlike demand in her voice.

But he didn’t, though he couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, despite the gravity of the moment hanging between them.

Lisa was a lot of things — compassionate, loving, fiercely loyal — but growing up as the only child of the King of Rock ’n’ Roll had definitely left a little mark.

And so sometimes, her stubborn streak would kick in, and if things didn't go her way, she could easily go from 0 to 60 in no time.

Michael stood up, offering her his hand.

“Alright, let's get you that shower first, then we’ll find you something to drink. Sound good?"

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and nodded slowly.

Good.

But then he remembered something. Dammit!

“Hey, do you think… um, do you think you would be okay using the bathroom in my room? I’m not sure if the ones in the guest rooms upstairs still work. We’ve… um, we have started shutting this place down, you know."

He shot a quick glance around the room, his eyes drifting over the familiar space — the walls that had seen years of family dinners, late-night talks, and too many memories to count. The silence felt almost eerie to him, the place now feeling more like a shell of what it once was. It wasn’t home anymore and it was time to let go…but he was definitely going to miss the hell out of it.

Michael shook his head, snapping himself out of it. There would be plenty of time to wallow in that later. Right now, there was something — or rather someone — more important. He squeezed her hand a little tighter, bringing his focus back to his ex-wife.

Lisa was here - in the middle of the night - still wearing the same outfit from earlier, only now all crumpled and smudged, looking like she had just gone through a tornado with nothing but a tiny folding umbrella and he had to find out what had happened.

Michael saw Lisa nod almost imperceptibly, and he slowly led her to his bedroom, still holding her cold, tiny hand in his.  

He wanted to say something — anything — but decided to keep quiet. Sometimes, words only seemed to complicate things more between them.

When they reached his room, he walked into the bathroom, flipped on the light, and started looking for a clean towel. Standing with his back to her, rummaging through one of the drawers, Michael heard her soft and still slightly shaky voice behind him.

“Um… Mike… can I borrow something to wear?” She asked, her tone tinged with annoyance. He turned to look at her and saw her stand there frowning, and for a split second he wasn’t sure if he had actually done something to trigger it, remembering very well how unpredictable Lisa could have been at times. “You have no idea how much I hate this dress and these stupid fucking heels right now.”

Michael let out a small chuckle, relieved that her frustration wasn’t aimed at him.

“Absolutely. Whatever you find, Lise.” He said, pulling out a big towel and setting it down for her.

His shoved his hands into his pockets and took a few steps towards her, smiling lightly.

“Take your time, then meet me in the library, okay?”

With that, he slipped out of the room, heading straight for the kitchen. Four-thirty in the morning wasn’t exactly prime time for most people, but if there was one thing he remembered about Lisa, it was that she never said no to a snack, no matter how late it was and an idea sparked in his mind as he rifled through the fridge, finding some fresh salsa, queso, and guacamole.

After a quick search in the pantry, he found some chips to go with it and satisfied with his haul, he arranged everything neatly on a tray, making sure it looked just right. Then Michael carried it to the library where he headed over to the bar to fix her a drink, adding some not-so-perfect slice of lime… But he figured the lime that had seen better days would be the least of Lisa’s concerns at the moment.

Flopping down on the couch, he let out a deep breath, trying to collect himself. There was a lot swirling in his head…

Michael was lost in thought, eyes closed, arm draped over his face, when he heard soft footsteps behind him.

He blinked a couple of times, turning his head, and nearly fell off the couch when he saw Lisa standing in the doorway, smiling coyly, wearing one of his red shirts.

She looked…

God, he didn’t even have the words to describe how she looked.

Her hair was wet, face without any makeup now, though her cheeks were still flushed from all the crying.

She hadn’t bothered to button his red shirt all the way up and it also only reached down to her mid-thighs, revealing her toned legs and he swallowed hard.

He saw Lisa tiptoe nervously on her bare feet, clearly unsure of his baffled expression.

“Is it okay I took this?” She asked sheepishly and shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and all he could do was nod like an idiot, his mouth slightly open.

After a few seconds, when his brain finally seemed to reboot, he cleared his throat, trying to regain control of his very slow actions and movements.

Lisa walked over and sat on the other end of the couch, curling up like a cat, giving him a shy, almost uncertain look as she bit her lower lip.

“Uh… vodka soda okay?” He managed to ask, nodding towards the glass on the table.

“Perfect.” She murmured and reached out, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a big sip without hesitation. “Thanks.”

Michael watched her, still trying to wrap his head around the whole situation.

Lisa was here, in his house, in the middle of the night, wearing only his shirt and, judging by the lack of anything else peeking out, not much else underneath.

This was dangerous, dangerous territory…

He had wanted her there with him — God knew he had — but… but not like this.

The sight of her, sitting on his couch in his shirt, brought back a flood of memories, both sweet and bitter - this was how they used to spend their nights during their marriage and all their affairs — both BD and AD, before Danny and after their own divorce.

Just the two of them, alone, her eyes watching him closely and tenderly.

Now, once again, just like in the past, Lisa seemed vulnerable, exposed, letting him see the raw emotions she usually kept hidden from the world and he loved that side of her — the side that trusted him completely, the side that made everything feel right between them.

For a split second it even reminded him of her first visit to the ranch, when she had come to him, crying about her marriage to Danny.

That was the night they had kissed for the very first time under the old oak tree…

Were her reasons for being here similar this time?

From what he had read in the tabloids, there were two men involved: the tall guy from the fundraiser and some weird-looking musician she had been seen with — a guy who looked like he could have inspired the main character from “Hey Arnold!”

Maybe she didn’t know who to choose, and so she had decided to run to her ex-husband for advice and rub salt deep into his bleeding, open wounds.

Michael’s head spun.

No, Lisa wouldn’t do that.

“Thanks for letting me shower. I feel much better.” She said, breaking the silence and he saw her eyes widen when she spotted the chips on the table. “Oh, wow! Can I have some?”

Michael shoved the dark thoughts aside and smiled, relieved to see her relax a little.

“Of course. I figured you could use a snack.”

“Sweet!” Lisa grabbed the entire bowl of guacamole, setting it on the couch in front of her, then reached for a handful of chips and Michael couldn’t help but chuckle.

That was the Lisa he remembered…

And he really hoped that whatever had brought her to him could be resolved.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied his racing heart.

“Lisa.” He began softly. “I’m here for you, whatever you need. Just talk to me. Please.”

She looked at him, her expression turning serious again.

“It’s been a really rough night.” She said finally. “And I didn’t know where else to go.”

 

 

About thirty minutes later, as she wrapped up her utterly horrifying story, Michael found himself holding his breath, staring at her in sheer disbelief.

The room had grown heavier with every passing minute, the air thick with tension and the weight of her words. Lisa’s voice had trembled at times, faltering when she spoke about the message on the mirror, and he just sat there, stunned, feeling like the ground had just shifted beneath him.

“But the sheriff said they’ll catch him soon.” She blinked away the tears and cleared her throat, putting up a front and trying to look more composed. He knew that move. She shrugged, taking another big sip of her – already - second drink. “The fucking perv jerked off on my bed, so they said they should easily find him. I guess they’re gonna pull some CSI shit, you know, DNA and what not.”

Michael gasped.

Countless scenarios had raced through his mind before she finally spilled the beans, but the truth was beyond anything he had imagined.

“He did what??!! Fucking hell!!” Outrage didn’t even begin to cover it and his protective instincts went into overdrive. “Okay, Lisa, tomorrow we’re getting you a new, top-of-the-line security system and a couple of goons.”

“No way… it’s not that big of a deal!” She said, shaking her head and brushing off his suggestion before dipping another chip in the salsa almost nonchalantly.

Oh really?

Interesting.

The woman who had come to him earlier, in floods of tears and trembling like a leaf, was now acting like a completely different person.

It was as if she had flipped a switch, going from a frenzied Chihuahua to a stoned Labrador in record time.

Vodka really was a magical thing, if you thought about it.

“Lisa!! This is serious! You can’t shrug it off like that! Do you know how dangerous this could be?” His voice rose, laced with frustration, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her. “You’re acting like it’s no big deal, but this isn’t something you can just brush aside and hope it goes away, for God’s sake!” He ran a hand through his hair, trying hard to stay calm, but her nonchalance was driving him crazy.

Michael couldn’t and didn’t want to imagine what might have happened if the creep had caught her. “So, you’ve been getting these letters for a while now?”

“Yeah… got the first one like three weeks ago, I think.” She nodded, slowly chewing her chips. “It was creepy, but… I didn’t think much of it. Stalkers are usually harmless, and it all ends with the letters more often than not.”

He wanted to shake her.

Was she out of her mind?!

For someone who had grown up as the daughter of the most famous man in the country, one would think she would have learned to be more cautious.

“Harmless?? Do you have any idea what could have happened? And why didn’t you tell me?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, and he bit his tongue, quickly adverting his gaze. Stupid question. “Or the cops?” He added for good measure.

“Like I said… I didn’t think he would be dangerous. I don’t know. I was an idiot. But… like… you’ve had your fair share of stalkers, right? And nothing’s ever happened.”

Lisa wasn’t making much sense anymore, and he could see she knew it too. Her bravado was starting to crack.

“Lisa, this is fucking different! I have people protecting me at all times.” He said, pausing before sighing heavily. “Also, if I ever get killed, trust me, it won’t be by a stalker.”

She furrowed her brow, meeting his gaze. “What do you mean?”

Michael took a deep breath, his eyes wandering around the room. What was he supposed to tell her?

The truth?

Really?

“Let’s be real. I’m worth more dead than alive.” He said, swallowing hard. “And the people around me very well know it.”

“Mike…” She whispered, leaning closer and gently taking his hand, her thumb brushing lightly over his wrist.

For a moment, she looked like she wanted to ask about the people around him — the leeches and vultures he always kept too close — but then she just looked down instead.

There was nothing left to say… she had tried saving him before, but all it ever did was piss him off and he always made her back off.

What an idiot he had been.

Who knew… maybe if he hadn’t driven her away all those years ago, there wouldn’t have been any trial. Lisa always tried to warn him about the people around him. Maybe… maybe they would still be together, living their best lives, happy, in love...

Michael sighed, glancing at her hand that was still holding his, her thumb now tracing soft lines across his knuckles.

All the mistakes he had made with that woman… If only he could take some things back, change the past… make her love him again.

But... but this wasn’t about him.

He needed to make sure Lisa was okay, now more than ever, though he still let her hold his hand because, in all honesty, it just felt damn good.

“Um, so... the kids? They’re okay, right?” He asked, trying to change the subject, though his voice gave him away halfway through the question.

Oh, the effect she still had on him…

“Yeah, they’re safe. I made sure of that first thing.”

“Good, good. And what did the cops say?”

“I gave them a spare key. They are going to come back and check the place out again, see if they can find anything else. Then... I dunno, I guess I’ll go back and… and redecorate or something. That’s for fuckin’ sure!”

She shrugged, reaching for her drink, but still kept hold of his hand and he squeezed it lightly, enjoying the warmth and comfort it brought while hoping she wouldn’t pull away.

“Lisa, you’re not going back there until everything’s secured — new system installed, some people watching the place. I mean it.”

“Geez, Michael, chill out! I’m not you! I don’t need all that!” She shot back, this time letting go of his hand and frowning at him a little, like the defiant little kid she could be at times.

“Yeah? Well, your ‘little stalker adventure’ here says otherwise.” He shot her a look, and she rolled her eyes, but instead of arguing, he saw her suppress a yawn.

Michael narrowed his eyes at her, noticing how tired she really looked.

“Alright, that’s it. Bedtime.” It was nearly six in the morning, and he was starting to feel pretty wiped out too.

“Oh, okay... but I’ve got a bag with some things in my car. I’ll go get it first.” She started to get up, but he looked at her - barefoot with just his shirt on, and he gave her a soft smile with a slight eye roll.

“I’ll get it. Finish your drink... I’ll be right back.”

He stepped outside, the cool morning air hitting him as he made his way to her car, parked just off the gravel driveway.

The sky had started to lighten, a soft pink and orange glow creeping over the horizon as the first signs of dawn began to push away the darkness.

Michael paused for a second, squinting up at the sky, noticing how the stars had faded and with a sigh, he reached for the door handle and grabbed the bag from the backseat, feeling the weight of the night settle into his bones.

His body ached from both the physical and the emotional exhaustion, and a yawn escaped him, unbidden.

When he got back inside, Lisa was already waiting for him in the hall, and he smiled, placing a hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her through the house, up the stairs, towards one of the guest rooms, with her bag slung over his shoulder.

“There’s one room ready — my mom was supposed to stay, but she couldn’t make it in the end. There’s still running water, but only cold, I’m afraid. I know it sucks and I’m sorry. But if you need anything, the bathroom down the hall works fine, okay?”

She nodded, and they reached the room, stepping inside.

The space was large but cozy, with soft beige walls and dark wood accents. The centerpiece, a massive king-sized bed, dominated the room, its plush white duvet neatly spread out as the morning light spilled through the tall windows, casting golden streaks across the floor.

Michael sighed.

The room, like every other one in the house, was perfect, a masterpiece in his eyes. And knowing he had to leave it all behind soon? That hurt more than he could admit.

He snapped back into reality when he noticed Lisa took a shaky breath as she looked around, her newfound spunk clearly gone altogether again. Ms ‘Chill-out-Mike’ suddenly didn’t look all that chill anymore.

“Lisa, you okay?” He asked, and she nodded, but it was a weak, unconvincing gesture.

All of a sudden she looked pale, shaken, her eyes darting nervously around the room.

What was going on with her?

Before he could spiral into a million different scenarios, she bit her lip and looked at him. “The... the room is secure... Nobody can get in, right?” Her voice quivered, and it hit him like a punch to the gut.

Damn.

Without thinking, he dropped the bag and pulled her into his arms quickly, immediately feeling her cling to him.

“Hey… hey…” He whispered, stroking her hair. “You know I would never let anything happen to you, right?” She nodded against his chest, her breath warm against his skin, but didn’t let go, clinging to him as if he was her anchor in a storm. He sighed, holding her close, feeling the familiar weight of her against him and for a fleeting moment, it felt like the old times, the times when he was the one she trusted completely.

Now, as he wrapped his arms around her, he could still feel that connection they had always had, but all the things that had driven them apart were palpable, too. He inhaled her scent, a mix of her favorite perfume and something uniquely her, and closed his eyes for a second, just enjoying having her in his arms again.

“Okay... c’mere.” He slowly pulled back, grabbed her bag in one hand, and took her hand in the other, leading her back down the hall and down the stairs, towards his bedroom. “You’ll sleep in my bed, and I’ll stay downstairs, alright?”

“No! Michael... gee, I’m sorry. I’m just tired, and I’m not thinking straight. I can’t hog your bed like that.”

“Yeah, yeah… like you didn’t do that all the time when we were married.” He joked, and she weakly smacked his arm, making him chuckle.

When they reached his room, he stopped and looked at her.

“I’ll sleep here, okay?”

She just looked at him, squeezing his hand in that vague way.

Was it a yes?

A no?

Lisa hovered there a little longer before she took a few steps, still holding his hand, slowly leading him upstairs with her and he decided to follow her, just to see what she needed from him.

They made it up there and Michael looked around.

Sunlight flooded through the windows, casting a warm glow across the space and he sighed, stifling a yawn.

Then he slowly and carefully withdrew his hand from hers and walked over to the windows, pulling all the curtains closed, one by one and shrouding the room in darkness.  

When he turned back, she was still standing there, looking small and uncertain, biting her lip again.

He needed some answers now.

“Lisa... what can I do?”

He expected hesitation, maybe a shrug, but instead, she spoke almost immediately.

“I just don’t want to be alone.” She said softly as she turned and crawled into his bed. “I’m so tired, but I’m scared to be alone.”

She scooted over, making room for him, and he raised an eyebrow.

Was she serious?

She looked like it.

In all fairness, there was nothing sexual about the moment… they were both bone-tired, and he knew the second his head hit the pillow, he would be out cold.

He walked over, paused for a beat, then unbuckled his belt, slipping off his pants and button-up shirt until he was just in his boxer briefs and a plain white T-shirt.

He crawled under the blanket and groaned, the bed’s familiar comfort wrapping around him like a long-lost friend. As he sank into the soft mattress, the exhaustion of the night washed over him, his weary muscles finally relaxing. The pillows cradled his head, and he felt the weight of sleep tugging him down.

“Night, Lise.” He whispered, closing his eyes.

“Night…” She mumbled, tossing and turning a bit before finally settling against him, her head on his chest, her arm draped over his torso.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure if it was real or if he was already dreaming.

His fingers moved on their own, softly tracing patterns up and down her arm as he let go, surrendering to a deep, blissful sleep.