Chapter 13

London Flashback

1998

Brenda

Anna has been pleading with me all day. To talk to Dylan. To tell Dylan about the baby. I haven't even processed it myself, how can I tell him? My phone beeps alerting me of a voicemail. I listen as Doctor Walters explains that my HCG levels are continuing to lower as they should since the miscarriage. He has been monitoring them since the accident. I found out I was pregnant and lost the pregnancy in the same breath. I should start bleeding soon. Of course he explains it in much more intelligent terms. All I hear is bleeding. It's over. A baby I didn't even know I wanted died. My imagination wonders what the child would've looked like. Dylan or me? Was it a girl or a boy? All these unwarranted thoughts consume me at this moment. I didn't even have time to process everything, only to lose the baby. The doctor assures me that miscarrying isn't uncommon, yet why do I feel like it's my fault, and I somehow caused this to happen. My phone pings, my breath getting caught in my throat. I have to put space between us because I'm not ready to tell him until I've processed this loss a little. He'll see right through me. Plus I'm so mad at him for drinking again. The only reason I was driving in that shit storm is because the bartender called me, telling me to pick him up. I had no idea he was drunk again. None.

Dylan: Talk to me please.

Brenda: I have nothing to say.

Dylan: Don't give me that bullshit. I'm sorry I was drunk Brenda. It won't happen again. I promise.

Brenda: I can't do this right now, please I need to be alone.

Dylan: I can't lose you. You're all I have.

Brenda: I need time Dylan.

Dylan: Please Brenda…please…this can't be it. Don't choose to end us. Am I not even worth fighting for?

I don't respond, wiping the tears from my face. Turning my phone off, I reach for the pain pills they prescribed me from the accident, taking three. I had been hesitant to take anything because of the baby, but now…all I want to do is numb myself.

Jim

I know Brenda is staying in the penthouse we are staying in here in London even though she hasn't said more than two words to me. She was released from the hospital a couple days ago and with her injuries she needs someone to take care of her. Cindy and I agreed we would stay in London for a little while to make sure she is okay. I wouldn't let Dylan in to see her. After we had words he took off and hasn't been back. I was never a big drinker but after we got that call from the hospital that Brenda and Dylan were in some kind of accident I have been drowning my sorrows in scotch since we arrived in London.

The liquor isn't helping anything. In fact, it makes my temper worse. Everywhere I turn, all I hear are the doctors words torturing me with it's truth.

Your daughter is in critical condition. Several fractures…concussion…induced coma to help her heal and to stop the swelling of her brain.

Dylan McKay's blood alcohol level was 0.20. He has minor injuries and we will be releasing him in a few hours.

That son of a bitch. I don't care that they both claim she was the one driving, I don't care. Why the hell is he drunk again? He could have killed my only daughter.

In the darkness of the night, I crawl into bed, lying beside my wife. Her scent feels like home in this strange country, my fingers itching to touch her, yet I restrain.

The bed shuffles, and almost as if she feels my pain, knowing exactly what I need at this moment, she strokes my cheek with a gentle touch.

"We will all get through this." She whispers beside me, "Brenda will be just fine, Jim."

"You didn't see the way she looked at me," I choke, closing my eyes to rid myself of the memory. "When I told her Dylan was not welcome here. That I knew she was lying about driving and that he was drunk. She looked at me with so much contempt. This is the summer before her senior year all over again. We're going to lose her."

"She's in love with him Jim, more now than ever before. They've been living together, he followed her to London for god sakes, he is in love with her too." Cindy murmurs, moving her body close to me, blanketing me with warmth. "Brenda is an adult now, this is nothing like the summer before senior year. All we can do is love her, and help her recover."

Love? She thinks Dylan loves her? Please. He married some girl he knew for five minutes. When she was killed he was on the first flight here, he weaseled his way back into her apartment, into her bed and her heart. Dylan doesn't love anyone but himself. None of it matters anyway, each thing just was bad as the other. He is wrong for her. He is NOT good enough for her.

"Promise me Jim, you'll let her handle all of this her way. The more you push the more she'll push back."

"You want me to do nothing?"

"I want you to step out of the equation for just a moment. She's at a crossroad in her life, don't push her to make a decision because you think it's right. She may be taking some time and staying here right now but you and I both know Brenda loves Dylan. You leave it alone. Let her decide what's best for her. If it's leaving Dylan so be it, if it's taking him back…that's her decision."

"He almost killed our daughter." I grit my teeth.

Cindy sighs loudly, "He wasn't driving."

"But you'll admit he was drunk?"

"Yes…he was drunk, but he wasn't driving her. He feels bad enough already. Leave it be."

I don't say a word, closing my eyes shut to allow sleep to numb me. What only feels like minutes later, a cough expels violently like I've swallowed a bunch of razor blades. Beside me, Cindy is fast asleep, undisturbed by my noise.

My eyes shut tight, and I'm unable to ignore the fire clawing up my throat. Water, I need water. Crawling out of bed, I stumble to the bathroom to drink a glass of water, attempting to clear the burn inside my throat.

It all comes back to me like a recurring nightmare.

The boy who has captured my daughter's heart, the boy who took her innocence in a hotel room at a school dance, the boy who made her think she might be pregnant, the boy who took her to Baja against my wishes, the boy who caused her to lie to us repeatedly, sneaking around. The boy who hurt her, stomped on her heart by choosing her best friend over her. The stupid boy who drove drunk and almost killed my daughter.

I grab my phone on the bedside table and send Richard, our lawyer, a text message. A few minutes later, my phone buzzes in my hand as I answer it quietly.

"Walsh? It's four in the morning?"

"Make it happen, or your job is on the line."

"But I thought you wanted to help McKay? Get his business idea off the ground? He seems like a bright boy."

"You listen to me Richard," I lower my voice, careful not to wake Cindy. "I want McKay's trust frozen unless he agrees to leave London immediately."

Richard sighs, "Jim…or what? Are you telling me this kid is going to choose his trust over his girlfriend? Are you sure?"

"It worked before?"

"That was different…you threatened him with statutory rape charges and the kid was scared of you. He was seventeen years old."

I think long and hard about what comes next, "We threaten drunk driving charges and a contract that we help him get Patagonia off the ground. I want McKay out of London and in Beverly Hills effective immediately. Either make that happen this morning, or it's over for you."

"Jim…I."

"Unless…of course word got out that you used company money to take your mistress on that trip to the Bahamas. I don't think your wife would like that fact let alone the associates." I knew I had him. I've known this man for many years, I had him by the balls.

Silence falls between us until he releases a sigh. "I'll draw up the papers and I'll be on the next flight out to London."

I hang up the phone and turn to look at Cindy, who's still fast asleep. The street glow filters in our hotel room, enough so I can admire her silhouette. She's just as beautiful as the day I fell in love with her, maybe even more so. Cindy doesn't deserve this worry either. I hate seeing her so troubled. I'll never forget her face when we got that phone call, that look of pure terror.

All of this, every emotion we've experienced is only because of our love for our daughter.

I quietly walk down the hallway with small footsteps, I walk towards the room Brenda is staying in. I slowly push the door open and see her asleep in bed. She is banged up pretty good. She lays on her side with her arm in a sling from her broken collar bone, that same arm in a cast. She has bruising to her chest from her seat belt, cuts and scraps on her face and a laceration on her forehead. I push the anger away as I stare at her. She looks so innocent even in her condition. Memories of her as a child flood my thoughts, her first steps, her first word, the time she met Dylan and started dating him, when she got her drivers license and when she pouted and sulked about not having a prom date.

How dare he come back to her.

He betrayed her trust, mine, Cindy's and Brandon's.

Dylan McKay has no clue who he's messing with. Or maybe he does but in just over a day, he'll be away from my daughter, out of her life.

I'm going to make damn sure it happens, even if it costs me every cent I own.

Dylan

I'm summoned to an impromptu meeting, the request coming through on Bren and I's answering machine at five in the morning.

I haven't slept at all. The last week has been absolute hell. The only small relief I have is that after trying to see Brenda 5 god damn times in the hospital only to be turned away at her father's request, Pam, a wonderful nurse on Brenda's floor finally told me she was in stable condition and was discharged a couple days ago. That's the only small relief I have considering I have no idea where Brenda is. She hasn't come home and I'm assuming she is with Jim and Cindy, maybe at their hotel? I don't know where they're staying. I called Brandon, left numerous messages. Finally I got a visit from Anna, our neighbor telling me Brenda was safe with her parents but needs some time alone.

Fuck

Deep inside, I know we're in troubled waters, that our relationship is about to be tested, and we aren't the only ones involved. After hounding Anna, she finally gives me the hotel the Walsh's are staying at. I call repeatedly to the penthouse, hanging up when Jim or Cindy answers, but finally as if the universe is on my side for one split second, Brenda finally responds to my text message, confirming what Anna told me. She wants time.

The anger and pain soaring through me is suffocating, I had asked her if I was worth the fight and she didn't respond.

With only my phone in hand, unshaven with no sleep, I slip into the conference room at the hotel Jim is staying in. What surprises me is that Richard, Jim's lawyer and colleague are sitting there too. Richard is in London? My heart is racing and sweat beads at my brow. What is going on?

I sit at the empty seat across from them. I lower my head, feeling Jim's eyes on me, refusing to give him any respect, directing my attention to Richard when he speaks up.

"Let's make this quick since this meeting wasn't planned for today," he begins, sliding a piece of paper in front of me. "Lander Walsh financials is willing to back you 100% in the start of Patagonia. Your trust will be signed over to you in full."

I stare at the men in shock, "What's the catch?" Jim is giving up my trust? And he is willing to back me financially in the start of this new business venture I have been wanting to start up?

"We need you in Beverly Hills, now. All shareholders in our newly purchased So Cal division have signed on the proviso that Patagonia is stationed in L.A. effective Monday next week. You'll need to leave tomorrow."

My jaw begins to ache, my teeth pressing down hard, causing a shooting pain up the side of my face. The conditions on the contract jumble my mind, not able to comprehend. All I can compute is the lease on the building in which this company is suppose to reside. This is what I get, for coming to Jim for advice about this business opportunity? A company I wanted to start up in London because hell there is no big wig sporting goods companies here, especially ones that make surfboards. My eyes find Jim's, I'm trying to hold back the tears that brim my own unsuccessfully.

"Come on Jim? This isn't the only way." I plead with him.

Richard begins to talk about what will happen if I refuse. Words I've heard before years ago, Impound my trust and assets. Drunk driving charges that are complete and utter shit. I wasn't driving but the accident was my fault. I'm listening but my eyes never leave Jim's. All this one giant case of deja fucking vu.

My lips press together in a slight grimace as both their eyes are on me. All I have to do is sign my name…a simple task I've done many times when it comes to my trust. Yet the repercussions of such an easy action will onset tremendous suffering. I felt it the moment I stepped into this room only ten minutes ago, to last night when I lay wide awake unable to shut down my thoughts. Everywhere I turn, and every breath I take isn't without a constant ache that has long buried itself inside of me. It's been there from the first time this man rejected me for his daughter. This pain, unbearable and consuming, is what we have become once again.

"Is there a problem, Mr. McKay?"

My gaze lifts, Richard, someone who has always seemed to have my best interest at heart, quizzes me with a frustrated stare. His eyes darting back and forth quickly from me to Jim. I can read his expression, Jim made him do this. He had no choice.

This is what I wanted. Having Jim's financial company backing me will almost guarantee the success of this business pursuit. Something I have been thinking about and planning for a while now.

"I'll repeat Richard's question since perhaps you didn't hear it?" Jim voices coldly, unforgiving with his tone. "Is there a problem?"

I slide the paper back towards Jim rather aggressively. "I care about Brenda more than your bribe. I'll start my company some other way."

Jim laughs, "Without your trust? How will you even live?"

I swallow hard, "I don't care about money Jim. And I will take your ass to court to get the conservatorship taken away from you. I'm sure a judge would love to hear the years you've been holding MY money over my head all for some personal vendetta against me because I happen to FUCK your daughter." I say unforgiving.

Jim stands, pissed now. He hits the desk with his fist, "YOU LITTLE FUCKING SHIT! How dare you!" He screams, shaking. He points a finger at me, "You broke a trust…you broke my daughters trust. You never cared about her and frankly you aren't good enough for her!"

I stand, placing booth my hands flat on the desk, eyeing him with malice. "Why am I never good enough for her? I love her! I'll protect her always!"

"You almost killed her…she isn't even speaking to you right now because you're nothing but a drunk. A dead beat like your father. You will never be welcome in my family, you will never be good enough for her no matter how successful this business may get with or without me."

My heart feels heavy. I'm so sick of this man. I'm so sick of being rejected by this fucking man. The last time I gave up. It was so easy. I promised Brenda I would fight this time.

"I…won't…sign…the…papers." I say firm and slowly.

"Then Brenda is cut off too. You won't have your trust to live on, she won't have any money coming from me for her acting classes, for that damn apartment that is in my god damn name."

The shade of his eyes usually a brown has turned almost black. Anyone else caught in his relenting stare would've recoiled and signed the contract. But as the sick feeing in the pit of my stomach begins to alleviate, it's instantly replaced with resentment. I hate him suddenly.

He left me no choice. No other option.

Not only is my future in his hands, his daughter's is too. I need the capital from my trust to start this business, I need him to invest to complete this purchase, and all I have to do is sign this contract and move back to LA.

Away from London and away from his only daughter.

How the fuck am I suppose to take care of Brenda without even a pot to piss in. Theater makes shit money, everyone knows that and she's still working in small plays around the West End. I've been paying rent on our apartment with my trust since she finished RADA. No trust no apartment and Jim is right. Jim's name is a cosigner on the lease from before I even moved here.

"Is that want you want? To ruin Brenda's life?" He add insult to injury.

I sit my body defeated with a sigh. "How do you know that after I simply sign this piece of paper. Brenda won't be on the next flight back to LA? She can act anywhere. How are you so sure she'll just allow you to control this situation like this? Brenda loves me Jim. I could ask her to come with me. She has chose me over you before, she may again."

The fire in Jim's eyes burns bright. Silence surrounding us before he speaks.

"If you don't want to be the reason she loses her family…her father…her mother…her twin brother…you won't ask her."

Beside me, my phone vibrates with a text appearing on the screen. Slowly, my eyes shift across to the notification. I keep my expression flat as the words tear through me like bullets ricocheting from a loaded gun.

Brenda: Yes. You're worth fighting for.

With these five words it should solidify everything between us but it doesn't. I'm left with no choice. Even if I give this all up for her, she'll never be truly happy unless her father approves. In the long run. He has made it bluntly obvious he doesn't want me to be in a relationship with his daughter, he never has. We've been friends before, and I have known Jim for many years, he's been a mentor and a father figure and treated me like his own son at times. The one major hiccup we've always have is over Brenda. I know Brenda would fight for me, I know she'd chose me, but could I let her? Could I let her give up her family for someone like me? Yes I love her but I'm a mess. The reason we're in this predicament is because of my drinking again and this accident. He will never approve. Brenda will resent me eventually. Yes Jim is an asshole but Brenda not having her father at all? I know what it's like, I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

My throat begins to tighten, the same time my knuckles turn white around the pen, I wasn't even aware I had picked up. I look at the man who I've looked up to as a father what seems like half my life. Tears blur my vision as I look down, a tear falling on the contract. Pressing hard against the paper, the pen glides across as the blank spot above the line is filled with my signature.

Without a thought, the pen falls against the table as my head slowly lifts to the ruthless man who pulls all the strings.

The same man who has bluntly said I'll never be good enough for his daughter.

The same man that has done this once before.

Her father.

Jim Walsh.

The new stakeholder in my soon to be billion dollar company.

I rise from my chair without a single word and move to exit. Richard gets up, moving quickly in front of me. I stare at him, numb.

"I'm so sorry kid. I'm so sorry." He whispers heartfelt.

I don't say a word as I leave the conference room.

Instead of heading home right away, I walk the streets aimlessly, desperate for this pain to subside. Trying to gain some sort of control over this. Finally I know it's pointless and head back to our…Brenda's apartment.

Inside the small and quaint flat, all I see is her. Laying on our bed, cuddling on the couch, laughing in the kitchen in our underwear, all I see is her. Everywhere I look, the memories become as painful as the next. I stomp towards the liquor cabinet, not bothering for a glass and drinking the scotch straight from the bottle. Desperate to numb this pain, lost in misery. I pack my stuff and before long, half drunk I look around the half empty closet. The empty shelves that have housed my books for the last three years. Even with only half the stuff gone, the apartment looks as empty as I feel.

Jim Walsh officially won again.

Yet all the money in the world means nothing if I can't have the woman I love. The only woman I ever truly loved. Without her I have nothing anyway.

Brenda

I hurry as fast as I can with my injuries. I haven't talked to my mother or father but all I want to see is Dylan. I realized how stupid I was to need any break. I'll support him, I'll love him, yes he is worth all and any fight. I know my father offered Dylan a deal. I knew all about the impound of the trust, the financial backing in his business. A dream of a company Dylan told me first about. Patagonia. I was so proud of him. Dylan complained about the lack of sporting goods here in London. Especially surfboards. When you think of surfers Europe doesn't come to mind but Dylan and I both realized there was some righteous surf in Europe. We'd traveled a lot! The Nazare Canyon in Portugal has long been a world-renowned surf spot. This is where the biggest waves in the world are surfed by the best surfers. Portugal is truly beautiful. There is Biarritz France, San Sebastian Spain, Tenby right here in the UK, and one of our favorite places Bundoran Ireland. He had this crazy idea to make surfboards more accessible to this part of the world, made from eco friendly materials. Sure there is a Quicksilver in the West End but an actual based company in London. There is none. So the name Patagonia refers to a region that encompasses the southern end of South America, governed by Argentina and Chile. The region comprises the southern section of the Andes Mountains, lakes, fjords, and glaciers in the west and deserts, tablelands and steppes to the east. Patagonia is bounded by the Pacific Ocean on the west, the Atlantic Ocean to the east, and many bodies of water that connect them. It's some romantic symmetry…it's us. The girl from the land of a thousand lakes and the boy from Beverly Hills. The best of all the worlds. It will happen…and my father will come around.

I rush to stick my key in the door, one handed mind you. I finally get the damn thing open but as I push on the wood. My excitement comes crashing down. It feels empty. I step inside and drop my bag. Furniture in place, magazines on the coffee table but its a dreadful abandoned feeling that hits me right in the gut.

He's gone.

I move quickly noticing his books gone from the shelves, his clothes in our closet absent. His key lays on our dresser with a note.

I grab it hastily.

I'm sorry. He's won.

Dylan

Tears stream down my face as I crinkle the note up.

I have no recollection of how I end up on the ground of the bedroom. My father did this. I reach hazily into my back pocket, grabbing my phone. I type numbness seeping through my entire being.

Brenda: You won, as always.

I clench the phone in my hand, trying to ignore my skin flushing as I hold back tears. My shoulders bear tight, but they feel like they are quaking, causing me to choke out a gasp.

Everywhere I turn, everywhere I look, all I see is Dylan. His smile tormenting me, his laughter, and the way he caresses the back of my neck and draws me in for a deep kiss. I breathe faster, but each breath begins to turn into a sob until my eyes cloud, and warm streams of tears fall down my face again. It all hurts, every piece of me. I don't want to be here, not without him. I contemplate driving to the airport to beg him not to leave until my phone beeps in my hand, and my focus shifts to the text on the screen.

Dad: It's for the best.

Anger ripples through me as I throw the phone across the room. It hits the wall with a crack, falling to the floor into pieces. I'll never forgive him.

Gulping for air, I try to calm what feels like a panic attack. A knock sounds out helping me to calm my breaths. Maybe he changed his mind?

I pull myself off the ground. Ignoring the burn from my broken arm and collar bone as I run to the door. I pull it open swiftly, praying and hoping to the universe it's him.

But it's not him and I sob loudly.

"Brenda?" He whispers painfully seeing my face. His eyes lower, a look of freight on his face. "You're bleeding."

I look down, bright red blood creates a circle between my legs, soaking my light colored denim jeans. Fuck, it's happening.

I cry louder and collapse in his arms as he moves towards me. I don't remember much after that and the weeks that followed. He helped me get up everyday, made sure I showered, sent me to rehab eventually when my pain killer addiction was blankly obvious. It was a dark couple years. But he didn't leave my side. My best friend.

Austin.

So a look into London that dreadful ending and how Austin became important. Let me first say I know nothing about business. I made up all these things that have been happening and have no idea. Lol Patagonia is a real company that does what I've explained but it was established in the 70's or something. But for this story, it was established in the early 2000 by Dylan. Just go with it. But as you can see, this is why Dylan left. This is why they have a rough reunion, this is why Dylan returns to BH in season 9 a complete waste product. He doesn't speak of London, or Brenda except in passing like she meant nothing. It hurts to much. It's why he turns to drugs. It's why he returns to Kelly, and plays his relationship down with Brenda and so the series continues in season 9 and 10. So what happens that I won't explain, is Dylan goes back to BH with his money. His past comes crashing down about Tony because well, he ran off and made a life with Brenda so he really hadn't dealt with it. So it's safe to assume, he doesn't officially start his business until after the ending of 90210. Season 9 he is a druggie, season 10 he's cleaned up and tries to get his life back and we assume goes to Richard to cash in on his contact finally. Starting his business and becoming what he is in this story. Hence why he trusts Richard in this story because he helps him without him having to go to Jim. So I hope that explains the missed parts in a nice concluded package. Anyway next up, we have the ball, the conclusion to the deal with Lau and dinner with the Walsh's. We'll see if it's 1 chapter or in 2. Wrapping things up a little but it's not finished yet. These two have some things to discuss, work out…like living arrangements. To explain for people that may not know. Brenda suffered a miscarriage, the the extended stay of the hospital, her hCG levels were checked regularly. Which happens in real life. The point is a healthy viable pregnancy those numbers will double everyday. In a loss, they lower eventually hitting zero and the bleeding actual passing of the intended miscarriage will happen. Hence why Brenda wasn't bleeding until the end. It's happened to me many years ago. Anyway, Please review and thanks for your patience. Love you all!