A Masterpiece Unraveled (The Masterpiece Trilogy Book 2) (26 page)

That did it. She'd had enough. "Perfect? I'm not perfect and never have claimed to be," Becca snapped. Seriously? This was going to be the way it went? "I'm not trying to replace you. I'm sorry if you feel that way-"

"Just stop! I'm tired of having to compete with you." Eva reached for Sienna's hand. "Come on, Sienna. That's enough now."

"This isn't a competition," Becca protested. Eva snatched the bag from her hands.

"Right. That's why Hunter couldn't wait to get back to you after we divorced. Now my own daughter prefers you over me."

Fury spiked within her. "I'm sorry if that's the way you feel. I'm not going to even get into the past because it's not my business, but you don't need to accuse me of things I'm not doing. I would never in a million years even try to take your place! I love Sienna and Hunter, but this isn't about taking anyone's place! Geez, Eva! This isn't easy on me either!"

"You know what, whatever. Tell Hunter thank you. Let's go, Sienna." Eva stormed away. Becca followed, watching as she settled Sienna in her car seat, climbed in the drivers side and drove away. Becca stood there, stunned. Some of this she expected. The looks, the irritation. But the way Eva accused her of being perfect and a replacement? Ugh!

Before she closed the door, Becca noticed something resting against the front step. Did Eva drop something?

It wax a box, just sitting there.

She froze.

Not again. Not this again. Sylvia was dead! No one should be sending them boxes and strange stuff on the doorstep!

Becca picked it up and brought it inside, her heart racing. Forgetting about the episode with Eva and the present she'd been working on for Hunter, she opened up the box and feared the worst.

Chapter Twenty One

"You've been distracted all night. Is everything okay?"

The meeting was over, and Hunter walked out of the room with Jesse in a daze. He couldn't stop thinking about Becca and the way she was feeling. He'd only half listened to others talk tonight and didn't put any effort into saying anything himself. Luckily, no one asked him anything during the time. He would have been completely caught off guard.

"It's complicated," Hunter replied. Total understatement. "Just found out some startling news having to do with my family and I can't stop thinking about it."

"Your family? I thought they, umm." Jesse fumbled for words.

"Yes, they died in the crash. I've been looking for a connection between my family and Becca's and we found it. I just don't know what it all means." How was it he could talk so easily to this stranger? Hunter surprised himself with opening up even that little bit of information to him.

"Ahh. Trying to sort out the mystery."

"This really does remind me of a damn TV show or book, but it's my life." Hunter grimaced. "Want a ride home? I'll drop you off if you want."

"No man, that's all right. I could use the walk. Hope you figure things out."

"You should come by sometime and meet Becca," Hunter offered.

"Yeah, we'll work something out sometime." Jesse waved, then took off.

Hunter hurried home. "I'm back!" he called, opening the door. To his surprise, Becca was in the living room staring at a piece of paper in her hands. "Bec?" What's that?" On high alert, he shoved the door closed and ran to her side.
Sylvia's dead. Who the hell else is sending us stuff?

"Her mother sent me a p-package," Becca stuttered.

"Her mo-whose mother? What are you talking about?" An opened box sat on the table. Hunter lowered himself on the couch next to Becca and gently eased the paper out of her hands. His heart almost stopped at the words written in cursive.

Dear Rebecca,

This is going to come off as strange, a letter coming from the mother of the woman with an intent to hurt you. I just recently found out about Sylvia's latest scheme, or whoever she goes by now. When I recognized your last name, I wondered if it could really be, but then I looked you up and sure enough, your father Rusty Lange was my ex-husband. I'm so terribly sorry about his loss. He was a good man, even though things didn't work out.

My daughter has had a long road in and out of institutions. She blames me for the divorce and has been on a path of destruction since. Twenty years ago, she ran away from one and I never heard from her until about five years later. She was worse off than she'd ever been. I never knew she'd been in contact with Rusty after we divorced. It was a surprise when she said she'd been on that same plane. I thought she was making it up, she has a history of that. There's no record of her on that plane, but she certainly has some stories to tell. Sylvia only contacts me every few years.

I have so much more I want to write, but I'm sure this is probably going to scare you off already. I'm in shock. Apologizing for her actions won't change anything, but for some reason I was compelled to contact you. Maybe because you're a part of Rusty and I feel he was the one who got away.

I don't expect you to, but if you want to connect with me I'd love it. I've sent you a few things I still had of your father's. I've held on to them, especially after finding out about his death, but I feel they may be better off in his daughter's hands.

Sincerely,

Amelia

Hunter set the note down, then reached for Becca. Too many strange thoughts crowded his mind. How did the woman know where to find Becca this quick? Did she know her daughter was dead? Something about this just didn't feel right, but then again, he was concerned over everything. "Did you look in the box yet?"

Becca shook her head. "I've been reading that letter over and over. I noticed the box when I walked Sienna and Eva out."

He wanted to ask how that went, but decided not to change the subject. "What are you going to do?"

"Part of me is curious. Okay, more than just a part of me. I want to know about my dad, but I don't want to think about Carrie... Sylvia... whatever her name was!"

"Give it a few days and let it sit," Hunter suggested. "You don't have to decide right now."

"I think I'm at least ready to look in the box." Becca leaned forward. She brought it closer. Her fingers trembled as she pulled out a large envelope. "Photos," she whispered when she'd opened it. Instead of looking through them, Becca inspected the rest of the box's contents. A pocket watch with Rusty's initials on the back, a worn out copy of
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
, a wool hat. Just little things. "I've never been able to have any of Daddy's things. My grandparents never gave me anything." She clutched the hat to her chest, tears in her eyes.

Even with as odd as this was, Hunter found it touching too. Becca a had a little part of her father's history with her now, a few of his personal effects. Maybe if she did contact this Amelia woman, she could tell them where she met Rusty and give a little insight to his past. Maybe it would help.

He held back on suggesting any of this to Becca right now. She needed time to process, not be bombarded with looking for answers.

*****

Becca was still asleep when Hunter got up the next morning. He wanted to stay in bed and curl up with her, but his first appointment with the PTSD person was today. Not that he looked forward to it at all, but it was another part of the process. Still, he took his time getting out of bed.

Downstairs, he grabbed a quick bite to eat from the kitchen and stopped in the dining room. A partially painted frame lay on the table along with a handful of Sienna's artwork. Curious, he looked over it. Was this something Becca was working on with Sienna last night? She never did mention what the two of them did and how Eva was when she picked her up. Then again, Becca had been preoccupied with the box. She never did look at the photos.

It looked like Becca had let Sienna do most of the painting. It was messy and there were spots not covered in blue. Hunter smiled. What was this supposed to be? He had a feeling he wasn't meant to see this yet.

His text message notification went off. Hunter took a peek. It was a text from Eva.

Please tell Becca I'm sorry about last night.

What did that mean? Instead of texting her back, Hunter decided to call.

"What happened last night?" he asked after she said hello.

"She didn't tell you?"

"No, she didn't. We were preoccupied with something else. What happened, Eva?"

Eva sighed. "It was a long day and Sienna didn't want to go with me, and I ... I kinda snapped at Becca."

Hunter held back a pissed off retort. This was exactly what he'd worried about. He gripped the top of the chair.

"I pretty much said she always had to be perfect, was trying to take my place, and other things," she said in a small voice.

"What the hell?" This time, he couldn't keep in his anger. His voice echoed off the walls. Hopefully he wouldn't wake Becca.

"I know, I-"

"Let me tell you something, Eva. Becca stood up for you the other day. She knows you're having a hard time with this and she even asked me how I'd feel if you had another man in your life who got close to Sienna. She's not trying to take anyone's place!" He kicked the side of the chair in frustration. "I'm not telling Becca anything for you. It's best you apologize to her yourself. You can't blame Becca because Sienna got attached. It's something our daughter did on her own."

"Hunter-"

"I have so many things I want to say right now. I think I'll stop before I really lose it." He hung up on her, steamed.

He was just as upset when he arrived at the psychiatrist's office. He needed to calm down before he walked back there, considering he already had a feeling the questions would be fired one right after the other about things he'd sure as hell like to forget and not rehash. As he threw himself on one of the chairs, he pulled out his phone to send Becca a quick text.

Sorry I didn't wake you before I left for my appointment, but you looked so content. I'm here now. Can't wait until I can be home with you again.

Just as he put his phone away, they called him back.

Here went nothing. Again. He stood, making his way to the doctor.

"Hi Hunter. Good to meet you. I'm Dr. Ryan. Let's go on back and get started." After shaking hands, he led the way down a hallway to his office. Once Hunter was inside, he closed the door then moved to sit behind his desk.

Hunter lowered himself on a chair as he surveyed his surroundings. He remembered offices much like these back when he'd first had counseling after the crash as a twelve year old boy. He didn't want to talk then, and he felt he same way now. But this time was different. There was much more on the line.

"So today is probably going to drive you nuts because I'll be asking questions you've probably answered thousands of times. I apologize about that in advance, but it's a necessary evil." He seemed nice enough. Hunter pegged him in his forties maybe. He shuffled some papers around on this desk, uncapped a pen and then opened his drawer, pulling something out.

A recorder?

"You don't have to say yes to this, but I do like to record these sessions. This is strictly for notes purposes. I don't share these with anyone. Completely up to you, Hunter." Dr. Ryan's gaze fixed on him.

Hunter shrugged. "Sure, it's okay I guess."

He set it on the desk and pushed a button. Hunter stared at it. Did he have to have it in plain sight?

"I can move it if you want."

Was he an open book today? Did the nervousness show that much?

He averted his gaze. "I can handle it."

"You look nervous. Are you?"

What the hell kind of question was that? "I'm always nervous lately," he admitted.

"I can imagine so."

Just how much did this guy have on him? Did he know everything already and still wanted to question him? He'd filled out plenty of paperwork answering these questions which got him this referral in the first place. Hunter shifted in the seat, crossing his ankles. He glanced around the office again. A clock on the wall. He also had a few paintings up. Nothing as great as Becca's but still, he liked the artist's style. One caught his eye and he stiffened. There was a black and white photo of an airplane, very similar to his own.

"What's caught your attention?" Dr. Ryan turned. "Ahh. The plane. Want me to take it down? It's passed on from a family member."

Hunter shook it off. "You don't have to do that. It's just that it looks like the one I own."

"Airplanes are one of your triggers, yes?"

"Triggers?" Some of the papers he'd been reading through mentioned triggers, but Hunter never put much thought into them.

"Yes. You'll want to keep a close watch on that, things that trigger your flashbacks and nightmares."

Hell, everything was a trigger then.

"Things that remind you of the event. People. Things you avoid," the doctor continued.

Hunter forced out a bitter laugh. "Everything reminds me of the event right now. I can't avoid anything!"

"You avoid flying. You're a pilot, correct?"

"I am. I avoid flying because I'm not even allowed to fly until this-" He waved his hands around his head. "-gets taken care of."

"Do you want to go back to being a pilot?"

Hell, he got him there. Hunter didn't respond.

"Thought so. Avoidance."

"I'd probably go back." Eventually. "Not on my plane, not after what happened to my girlfriend. It's a reminder for her as well."

"Your girlfriend, the other survivor, right?" The man made a face, writing something down. What was he writing? Was it about him? About Becca?

"Yes. Becca. We've stayed in touch ever since."

Question after questions came. Some Hunter found frustrating, some he answered with ease.

"Did you avoid Becca and the island because it reminded you of the crash? Is she a trigger? Maybe the island is a trigger?"

"No! That had nothing to do with it. We did leave earlier this year, but it was an odd time. I was having nightmares and flashbacks before getting back in touch with Becca. She's not a trigger," Hunter insisted. Hell, he hoped not!

"How do you feel when you have a flashback or nightmare?"