Sarah Mine (11 page)

“You’re not welcome here.”

Ahh, there the bastard was. Yep, definitely no television death bed reunion show here. “Oh, I know. Thank God for that.” I crouched down and rested my arm on the mattress. “I have something to say to you. Jax, you remember him, right? Your eldest? Asked me why I kept coming back here. Being the blight on your empire was a benefit but you know the real reason? And I kinda just figured this out.” I leaned forward and lowered my voice to a whisper: “I pickedNow the inappropriate girl too.”

Standing up, I hitched the bag up my shoulder. “Mother.” I nodded at her before I walked away. Big Jack shouted my name.

Just like when I was eighteen again. I grabbed my duffle bag where it waited at the door and I didn’t look back as I walked out the door.

Free
.

The word whispered and wound its way through my head. I understood what Jax had said about wanting to see Big Jack. My father hadn’t won.

Free.

Sarah

I opened my eyes and saw Hill’s spot was empty. Rising up on my elbows, I looked to the spot where his bag had been. Gone.

Again.

Left behind.

Again.

“Damn you, William.”

With a tired, defeated sigh, I lay down and stared at where he was supposed to be. Had I really thought he’d stay? Well, no. But I hadn’t thought he’d sneak away when I was sleeping. Just once…

Just once I wanted him to tell me good-bye. To look me in the eye before he left me behind. Maybe he’d give me a kiss good-bye. Something, anything but disappearing on me while I slept.

I knew this time was it. There would be no miraculous return to my door. Hill Deveraux had breezed into Pierce Point like the emotional storm he was and had swept right back out.

Hadn’t I known this would happen?

What? That because I was sober and things had been utterly different that things would change? Really?

I climbed out of bed and contemplated stripping the sheets. Not yet.

I grabbed my robe and headed for the shower when I saw the studio door was open and the lights were on. Curious, I walked in to see the stool in front of the OD drawing. It had not been there early this morning when he had scooped me up and carried me into my bedroom.

My black marker sat on the stool and I knew what it was for. To put myself in there. I picked it up and saw a piece of paper torn from my sketchbook. Bold strokes formed my name.

Sarah—I’d have come. I will
always
come. I’ll be back for this. Hill.

This? Looking down I saw his camera sitting on the drawing and my heart gave a ridiculously excited thump. Picking it up, I held it against my chest. Frowning, I leaned forward and studied the edge of the table. Now that had absolutely not been there before. He had printed in small letters: Sarah Mine.

“Damn you, William. That’s vandalism.” I pressed my mouth against the cool metal of his camera and smiled.

He was coming back.

Sarah mine
.

He was coming back…
for me.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Hill

I rolled the lens between my palms, missing my camera. It took me a few panicky heartbeats to remember it was with Sarah whenever I reached into my bag of tricks for it. Impulse had made me leave my beloved camera with her. Something I kind of wished I hadn’t done.

I missed my camera, the comforting weight of it in my hands. That camera was an extension of me; hell, it
was
me. That’s why I had left it with her. So she’d know I’d come back and that she wasn’t alone.

I had screwed up a lot with her in the past. I had let her down, and not just on that day she had decided to pop deadly pills and drink shots of vodka. Since I had let Brandi manipulate me into teasing and mocking her shy, artistic, and already beaten down sister, I had been letting Sarah down.

What a dick.

The shiny vehicle that turned into the driveway made me look up before I stared back at the lens. My big brother was right. I needed to get my shit together. Watching Sarah slowly pull herself together, laying her demons out on paper for the world to see, made me feel like a coward. There she was showing everyone what her choices had cost her, including her baby, and what was I doing? Licking my wounds and hiding under blankets.

The slamming of car doors made me watch Jax and Ally. I didn’t trust my sister-in-law but Jax loved her. I wasn’t sure I could trust someone who had done what she had. Maybe my brother was a better man than I. While Ally took my sleeping almost eighteen-month-old niece from the back, Jax took out the baby carrier with two month old Elise. There was a certain amount of irony that my brothers had both had girls.

“Hello, Hill,” Ally said in her soft voice. She knew I wasn’t her biggest fan.

“Hey, Ally. How was rehearsal?”

She blinked in surprise. Could’ve been because I knew that’s where they had been or because I had asked. “It was good. Would you like to come to the performance on Monday?”

Classical music wasn’t my bag. I gazed up at the woman my brother had sacrificed everything for. Her hair was a soft golden color and her green eyes often reminded me of a cat. There was something classically beautiful about Ally. I could easily see her in the lens of my camera, looking at her daughters or playing the violin. Nodding, I rolled the lens. “I’d like that.”

She beamed a smile then eased around me. “Sorry, I’ve got to get her down. She is no lightweight anymore.”

Standing up, I took the key from her hand and opened the door. I left the key in the lock as Ally made her way into the house Jax had designed for them years and years ago when they had been teens in love. A few years ago he had finally built it for her. My brother knew his shit when it came to designing a house. It was gorgeous. A kind of a log cabin with large windows.

“Damn, son,” my brother said softly. “You look fucked over. Beer?”

“Yeah.” I sat back down on the step and Jax set the carrier down, giving me a view of the newest Deveraux. Cute little bug with all her fair hair and little mouth puckered. “You’re going to look like your mama, aren’t you?” Reaching out, I caressed the little cheek and wondered about Sarah’s little boy.

A few minutes later, Jax returned carrying two bottles of beer. He sat down, snapped open the restraints that held Elise in, then stretched out his legs.

“Saw the old man,” I said as I twisted off the cap.

“Shut the fuck up.”

With a grunt I took a sip of the beer. “First time I’ve seen him since.”

“And?”

“He’s dying.” That made me sigh, then I tilted the bottle back. “Hasn’t changed even now.”

“Did you think he would?”

No, not really. I didn’t want to talk about Big Jack. We both knew our father was a selfish bastard. Old news. “How’d you and Ally get past all your shit? How were you able to forgive her? What did she have to do?”

My brother was quiet as he sipped his beer and looked at his daughter. There was a little tug of envy that my brother had all this. Then again my brother wasn’t the complete shit I was. “Groveled. She groveled. A lot. Begged me for forgiveness. Then gave me a blowjob.”

I coughed, choking on my beer. My brother’s grin was a little evil and I wondered if there wasn’t some truth to that line of crap. Somehow I didn’t think Sarah giving me a blowjob would make up for all my shit. Blinking, I stared blankly at the neatly cut lawn. But it would sure be fun to give it a try.

“I let it go,” Jax said softly. “Let it go, Hill. You’re not the same guy you were, just like Sarah isn’t the same girl.”

It wasn’t surprising my brother had jumped on the Sarah train. What other ride was there in my life? “I was a dick to her.”

“So? She’s never held it against you. Much. It’s never made her shut the door in your face for good. You’re not as much a fuck up as you think you are, kid.”

I grunted as I set the bottle down and fiddled with the lens. I missed my camera. There were digital cameras in my bag but they weren’t
my
camera. “She’s in an art show.”

Jax lowered the bottle he had just lifted to his mouth. “Shut up. Good for Sarah mine.”

Turning my head, I looked at my brother. “Do not call her that.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s
mine
.”

“Yes, she is,” Jax said with a shit-eating grin. He tapped the neck of his bottle against the lens I held. “Yes, she is. So why then are you on my front step and not hers?”

Because I needed to get my shit together. Starting here. I reached into my backpack and pulled out the laptop. Flipping it open, I handed it to Jax. The photo program was already running and when the computer woke fully, the horrific image of somebody’s baby took up the screen.

“Fuck, Billy,” my brother whispered. Automatically, Jax reached over to touch Elise then looked over his shoulder as if that would make Ava magically appear. “This what chased your ass to Sarah’s door?”

Nodding, I reached down for my beer. Maybe a miracle would happen and my bottle would be full. Empty. Fuck. I fiddled with the lens instead, twisting the settings around. Finally I set it down and pulled out one of my digital cameras. It was better than nothing in my hands. I really wanted my camera.

I captured Elise in the screen and caught her sleeping. Alive. Frowning, I fiddled with the camera. I missed the bulk of my old camera. The way I had to think about things so I didn’t waste a shot. This point and click was not for me. There was nothing to distract me.

“Damn, son.”

“I never sent it in. I couldn’t,” I admitted. “What the hell am I doing, Jax? What good can possibly come from anyone seeing that photo?”

“Nothing,” Jax said in a soft voice. “Isn’t that the point, Hill? You don’t take feel good pictures. You never did. But they’re honest. I am terrified of something happening to my girls. As I looked at that photo you know what I thought?”

I shrugged as I pointed the camera at the step, the shadow of my leg and Jax’s beside it. Artsy, but I still took the photo.

“Thank fuck. Thank fuck that’s not Ava or Elise. Or Matt’s girls. I know where my girls are; I know they’re sleeping safe in this world that isn’t always nice. I should probably be less selfish and mourn for that boy’s family, but I can only think of mine. You see that stuff, Hill. You’ve always looked for images that make people stop, stare, then give thanks that’s not them. That’s what you’re doing, Hill.”

Tilting the camera, I aimed the lens at my brother. In the small screen on the back, I could see the lines of my brother’s face. Different yet similar in some ways to mine. Marks of being half Deveraux and half Hilton. Family. I took the picture then returned to fidgeting with the camera. “So what you’re saying is that I’m taking pictures of people’s tragedies to remind myself that’s not me?”

Jax shrugged. “Maybe. You were barely a kid when Big Jack kicked you out. I think you needed some reminders that things could’ve been a lot worse for you. Let’s face it, you got talent but you also got luck. How many eighteen-year-olds with nothing but a couple of changes of clothes and a camera wind up where you are? Look at you, Mr. Hot Shot Photojournalist. Look at what you fucking did with your life.”

Grunting, I hit the power button on the digital camera, watching the lens open and rise out then slither back in. I missed my real camera, the simplicity of it. “You think I should send it to my editor. Don’t you?”

“What scares you about that picture, Hill? What brought you to a full-blown stop and sent you seeking salvation with Sarah?”

My heart thumped as I fiddled with the shooting mode dial. My brother sat beside me, his shoulder brushing mine in a comforting way. “You just said that it made you–”

“Nope. Not talking about me, son. Belly up to my truth bar, kid. What scared you?”

A slow, heavy sigh escaped. “Me. I’m tired of seeing dead babies, dead women, dead men, dead civilizations, dead lands, dead. Everything dead.”

Jax pointed over his shoulder. “Right there. Take the picture. Right now.”

I turned to watch Elise’s nose wrinkle, a little squawk and a yawn. Dark lashes lifted and sleepy grey eyes looked at the world. Deveraux eyes. My hand shook a little, and I took the picture as she gave a little bounce at seeing her dad. Pretty little girl who was far from the machinations of the grandfather who would discount her because she was a girl.

“Now there’s a baby alive on your camera. And let’s face it, there’s nothing prettier than one of my girls. You need to start taking some feel-good images again, Hill. I’m not saying set up shop and take pictures of flowers all day, but you have to remember the light after you see the dark. It’s why you go back to Sarah. She’s alive, she’s living.”

She was light. I watched my niece discover her hand and chew on it, utterly content to show off her skills to her proud daddy.

“Why’d you pick that house for Sarah?” Resting my elbows on my knees, I stared through the viewfinder again, ignoring the screen at the back that would show me the photo. Cheating, I thought, as I took in the house across the street. Matt’s house. There were three houses on this street, only three. The other two Deveraux boys had done well for themselves without Big Jack’s money, maybe even in spite of it.

Matt’s house was different than Jax’s cabin and glass home.

It was large and bright. Evidence of little girls was on the lawn: a little pink bike, a red ball, glass butterflies in the garden that Molly had created in the front. Lucky bastards.

Jax sighed and took a sip of his beer. “Because if she went back to that apartment after rehab, I don’t think she’d have made it. She didn’t need ghosts to welcome her home. It was a fresh start.”

Pretty pictures, I thought. Pretty images that didn’t remind her of the shit in her life.

“Why there? Why not here or anywhere else in the country?”

Jax’s hand blocked the shot and he lowered the camera. “You tell me, William? Why would Sarah stay in Pierce Point? Your head seems to be firmly out of your ass; why would she stay there?”

I clasped my hands behind my head as a heavy sigh escaped. “Me. Even after all the shit I’ve put her through?”