Enchanter: The Flawed Series Book Four

by Becca J. Campbell

  “At what?”

  “I can tell when you restrain your emotions.”

  “You can?” Chloe gave an apologetic shrug. “I’ve been trying.”

  “And it’s been helping. But your natural feelings sometimes help me, too. Like when I need to escape a bad vibe or something.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s good, I guess.”

  “I appreciate all your efforts to make things easier for me, but today I just want you to be you.”

  Chloe grinned. “I’m great at the me thing.”

  “It’s your strongest suit.”

  “Hey!” Chloe feigned a scowl.

  “You know what I’m saying.”

  “Whatevs.” Chloe flipped a hand through the air. “You ready to get with it, girl? We got work to do.”

  Jade smiled. “Just tell me what to do.”

  Chloe pointed to the center of the kitchen and grabbed a large, floral-printed handbag. “Stand there and suck in the gut.”

  “You think I have a gut? Gee, thanks.”

  “You know what I mean. Shoulders back and all that.”

  “Is that where you keep the instruments for my torture?” Jade nodded at the bag where Chloe extracted a long measuring tape.

  “This is where the magic happens. I’ll get your measurements first. Then I’ll show you my sketches. I have a few ideas, but you can help me refine them.”

  “Remind me again why I agreed to be your model?”

  “Because every fashion designer needs a beautiful canvas on which to display her art. And because you want your best friend to win the Posing for Poverty competition.”

  “Oh, right.” Jade stood and held out her arms as Chloe took measurements and jotted on a small pad.

  For now Jade hoped her feelings would stay buried. The last thing she wanted was to harm any of her friends. And she really hoped they could all get through the summer without anyone getting murdered, abducted, or brainwashed. She’d had enough of that to last a long time.

  Graham Vega pulled into the coffee shop lot, already tasting the freedom of his first weekend since school had let out. He slammed the old Volvo’s bent front door, and not even the sight of the rust flecking off his ride could dampen his spirits today. At least he had a car to pick up his girlfriend and take her out.

  His pocket buzzed, and Graham paused to put his phone to his ear.

  “Hey, Graham.”

  “Oh. Hi, Dad. What’s up?” Graham asked. Bruce Rousseau rarely called him for just a chat, despite their deepening relationship over the past four years. Graham had never lived with Bruce and had grown up being more of a family friend than feeling like a son. The man was more the take-you-on-vacation-and-buy-you-something-expensive type of dad. Graham was okay with that, though. Growing up fatherless for fifteen years had taught him that having a dad was more of a luxury than a necessity anyway. He treasured what time they did get together.

  “I’m in Dubai,” Bruce said.

  “Dubai? Wow.” Graham frowned. “Isn’t it the middle of the night there?”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, my body hasn’t adjusted to the time difference yet. I finally gave up and decided to get some work done in my hotel room.”

  “Business trip?”

  “Been gone since Monday. I’d hoped I would get to stay home a little longer, what with Violet’s accident. But I can’t put off work anymore.” Graham’s half-sister had been hit by a car a month ago. She’d been found lying unconscious on the freeway and had been in a coma ever since.

  Bruce continued. “Roxy is scheduled to leave town tonight for her DAR convention.” He sighed. “With Violet doing so much better, it’s all bad timing.”

  “Wait. Violet’s doing better?”

  There was a pause on the other end. “You didn’t hear about her recovery?”

  “No. She’s awake?”

  “She came out of the coma a couple weeks back. I can’t believe no one called you. I’m sorry, Graham, that’s my fault. I’ve just been so distracted, what with trying to work from home the past few weeks and with all the out of town relatives coming in to see her….”

  Graham stiffened. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not okay,” Bruce said. “Violet’s your sister.”

  Half-sister, actually, but Graham didn’t correct him. He also didn’t point out the fact that things between Violet and him had been turbulent at best for the last four years. Part of Graham still felt inexplicably caught in that withered friendship.

  “Anyway,” Bruce said. “I was calling to see if you could keep an eye on her for the next few weeks while we’re away.”

  “Keep an eye on her? Doesn’t that take medical professionals?”

  “Oh, sure, as far as physical care. They’re moving Violet back into her condo, and she’ll continue her regular PT sessions, along with a nurse coming regularly to check her vitals.”

  “No one’s going to stay with her while she recovers?” Graham asked.

  “She’s been progressing well, especially over the last week, so the hospital decided she was ready for discharge. I think she’ll be fine. I’m not worried about her safety now so much as her…uh…emotional needs.”

  “Emotional?” Graham swallowed, not liking where this was headed.

  “Er, not emotional. Just…I think she could use a friend to help make her recovery easier.”

  “But we’re not really….”

  “I know you two have been a little out of touch lately,” Bruce said.

  “Yeah….” ‘Out of touch’ didn’t scratch the surface. But not wanting to jeopardize his relationship with his dad, Graham hadn’t told Bruce about the unrest she’d created in his head.

  “You two used to be close, though,” Bruce said. “Violet needs someone like you in her life—especially now. She’s not exactly herself, since the coma.”

  “Then why is Roxy leaving? Is the DAR more important than her daughter?”

  There was a pause on the other line, and Bruce gave a quiet sigh. “Roxy’s…been difficult lately.”

  “Difficult?” Graham knew it was none of his business, but he was curious.

  “Things between the two of us were already strained. Then, when all this happened with Violet, it just got worse. Roxy sat beside Violet’s bed for days waiting for her to wake up. By the time Violet finally came out of the coma, Roxy was worn to a thread. She said she needed a break. I know that’s no excuse for her leaving town the day before her daughter goes home.” Bruce sighed again. “But I’ve learned to pick my battles with my wife, and this was one thing I chose not to question. As it is, I’m on the other side of the globe, so there’s not much I can do about it.”

  Graham wished he hadn’t asked. There was only so much he wanted to know about his dad’s relationship drama.

  “Could you just stop by to check on her every few days or so?” Bruce asked. “To make sure she has everything she needs, and maybe keep her company? It would really mean a lot to me.”

  “Okay,” Graham said.

  “Great. Would you be able to be there tomorrow morning when they discharge her? Can you drive her home?”

  Graham thought of his plans with his girlfriend. They were supposed to get up early and go hiking at Cheyenne Mountain State Park. But Violet had nearly died. The least he could do for her was take her home. “Sure. I can do that.”

  “Thank you, Graham. I’ll also mail you a key to her condo.”

  “Doesn’t she have one?” Graham asked.

  “Yeah, but I’d like someone else local to have a copy—just in case of emergency.”

  “Okay,” Graham said.

  His mind went to Violet and to the friendship they’d had growing up. Playing in the sandbox at the park as kids. Hanging out at her pool during lazy summer afternoons. Spending Christmas break together at the beach.

  He was still thinking of her as he entered the coffee shop. A gust of summer wind followed him in. Olivia sat poring over a magazine, one hand unconsciously fiddling with the
short hairs at the nape of her neck. When he approached, her head turned up, and she swept her long, blonde bangs to one side. Her eyes crinkled into a smile.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” Graham said, trying to tame his short, wind-tossed curls. “It’s Thursday night, and I’m ready to live in the gaps between stories.” He waited, but she didn’t respond. “Ya know, ’cause I’m a writer. And I’m taking a night out….”

  She rolled her eyes. “Despite what you might think, I can get enough of the bookish jokes.”

  “Sorry. I’ll try to dial it down. Ready to get some dinner?”

  She sipped the few remaining drops of her iced coffee and stood. “Where are we going?”

  “I thought we could grab some subs and go to the park.” In other words, he was broke.

  “Still haven’t heard back from any of the places you applied?”

  “Actually, I have. One said I wasn’t a good fit—whatever that means. The other two said they wanted someone with managing experience.”

  “Oh. That’s too bad.”

  Graham shrugged. “So I’m still broke, but at least I can afford sandwiches. Oh, by the way…”

  Her brow lifted.

  “I’m going to have to cancel on hiking tomorrow.”

  “What? Why?”

  “My half-sister’s going home from the hospital. I have to go pick her up.”

  “The one who was in a coma?”

  “Yeah.”

  Olivia frowned. “I thought you weren’t talking to each other anymore.”

  “We weren’t, but it’s been a long time. I feel like I should give it a shot again.”

  Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “You had a huge crush on her.”

  Heat streaked up the back of Graham’s neck. “No, I didn’t. Besides, she’s my sister.”

  “But you didn’t know that for the longest time. You totally had a thing for her.”

  “How do you know? You didn’t go to our high school.”

  “Because of the way you talk about her.”

  “What? I don’t talk about Violet.” Graham stood straighter. He wished he had even an inch on Olivia, but they were the same height. He’d never been able to make himself feel taller.

  Olivia rolled her eyes. “When we’re out, you point out things that she would like. And every redhead who walks by catches your eye.”

  “Zounds, one time!” Graham said. “Once I thought I saw her. That was it!”

  “Why do you have to be the one to pick her up?”

  “Because my dad and my step-mom are both out of town. There’s no other family here.”

  “Don’t they have maids and stuff? Can’t one of their employees go get her?”

  “She just woke up from a coma!” Graham said. “Can you imagine how she’s feeling? And you think she deserves to be picked up by some employee?”

  Olivia didn’t respond, but her face didn’t soften.

  “I won’t desert her,” Graham said.

  “But she deserted you.”

  “She’s family.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, because I think you need a reminder.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I know you like fantasy, but geez. Game of Thrones much?”

  Graham stared at her.

  “In other words, you can’t date your sister.”

  “I don’t want to date her. If anything, I just want to be friends again.”

  Olivia crossed her arms. “Why? Why not just let it go? She’s in your past. She can’t control you anymore.”

  “Control me? What the hell, Olivia? Violet and I were buddies.”

  “Really. So that’s why you wrote poems about her?”

  The heat shot up to Graham’s face. “It was practice. I’m a writer. I write about stuff. And sometimes people.”

  “You’ve never written a sonnet about me.”

  “I—”

  “Last month you mentioned it was Violet’s birthday. Twice.”

  Graham couldn’t remember mentioning it, but Violet’s birthday was in May.

  “Do you even know when my birthday is?” Olivia asked.

  “I’ve only known you a year,” Graham said. “I’ve known her my whole life!”

  “Exactly.” Olivia’s face turned smug.

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to show me that you’ve moved past her. That you’re not hoping to recreate some childish fantasy. I want you to say you won’t pick her up tomorrow.”

  Graham’s jaw tightened. “That sounds like an ultimatum.”

  “Maybe it is.” Her eyes challenged him.

  “Well, I can’t,” Graham said. “Violet needs me, and I’m going to be there for her. I know she deserted me years ago, but I won’t treat her the same way.”

  “Fine. Then you can find yourself another girlfriend.” Olivia turned and headed for the door.

  “Great!” Graham called after her.

  She stopped with her hand on the door. Her voice rose so loud that everyone in the coffee shop turned to look at her. “Or you can hook up with your sister and have a million babies that have three eyes and crazy octopus arms!” Her final statement was the slam of the door.

  Graham shrunk as everyone turned to stare at him. He nudged his square-rimmed glasses with a knuckle and cleared his throat, wishing he could disappear as he made his way to the opposite door.

  ~

  The next morning Graham walked into the hospital with leaden feet, following the receptionist’s directions to Violet’s room. In the hall outside, he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, trying to prepare himself. He wasn’t sure what version of Violet he’d get. Would she still be pissed at him, her grudge fueling a passion for wreaking havoc on his world? Or would the accident have calmed her, possibly giving her a new outlook on life? He blew the held breath out, determining not to enter at arms with her. He would prepare for a truce. Maybe she was ready to apologize and make a new start.

  When he entered, the enduring image of her—the one trapped in his head with fond memories of roughhousing in the ocean and a childhood of crafty schemes—dissolved. The woman in the bed looked barely larger than a girl, her soft shoulders having gone bony and her curves having thinned. Her cheeks had hollowed, making her blue eyes look wide and childlike. The emaciation of her frame didn’t hinder her beauty. Rather, it gave it new angle, exaggerating her facial features. She was still stunning. Seeing her after so long made Graham’s insides go squishy. He had to remind himself she was his half-sister, even if neither of them had known it for the majority of their lives. It wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to dispel the memories of his old crush on her.

  “Hey Violet,” he said.

  “Graham?” Her thin, auburn brows lifted in surprise. Bruce must not have mentioned he was coming. Pity gripped his heart for a moment, realizing her parents had left her in the dark.

  “I hear you’re going home today,” he said.

  She nodded and glanced at the nurse who was removing a blood pressure cuff. “They say I’ve made a great recovery so far.”

  “You always were tenacious,” Graham said. He shuffled his feet and glanced at the door. “Ready to go? Your bags packed?”

  She frowned. “You’re taking me?”

  “Yeah—if that’s okay. I told your…uh, I told Dad I’d take you.”

  “Well, I guess since you’re here….”

  “You had something else in mind? Your parents are both out of town so….”

  “My friend Holly and her boyfriend were coming this afternoon.”

  Graham blinked. “Oh.”

  “But I’m ready to get out of this place. I’ll call Holly and tell her to meet me at home later.”

  Graham nodded. “Okay.”

  “I just need to get changed.”

  “Right. You—uh—you need any help with anything?” His gaze darted to the nurse for a moment and back to Violet.

  “I think I can handl
e it.” Violet smiled, a trace of irony in her grin.

  Just like the old Violet, he thought. The one before they’d had a falling out.

  She slipped out of bed in one delicate motion, snatched up a duffel bag, and disappeared into the bathroom.

  “Do we need to sign anything before we go?” Graham asked the nurse.

  “Yes. I’ll get her discharge papers.”

  When Violet emerged, she wore a disturbed expression.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “Look at me.” She held out the sides of the top she wore as if appalled.

  “What?”

  “I’m freakishly skinny. My clothes are practically falling off me.”

  “You’ve lost a little weight, but you look fine. I’m sure you’ll get your old body back once you recover.”

  Violet’s brow puckered above her nose. Her eyes moistened, and she dropped her face into her hands. “I can’t believe I look like this.” She began to sob.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” Graham stepped closer and touched her shoulder. “This is only temporary. Dad said your PT sessions will help you get strong again. Plus, I’m sure once you’re back on normal food you’ll gain back the weight.”

  He wasn’t sure she’d heard him over her sobbing, which hadn’t let up.

  “Shhhh. Vi. Don’t cry.”

  “That’s not…the worst part,” she blubbered. “I’ve been in a coma for three weeks, and my parents just deserted me!” Her crying intensified, and Graham’s chest twisted inside. He imagined how he’d feel if he’d been through a traumatic accident and his mom had gone traipsing around the globe to take care of “more important” matters.

  He didn’t know what to say, so he pulled Violet to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. She sobbed into his shirt, and he realized that Bruce had been right. She really did need a friend right now.

  Violet finally calmed and was wiping her cheeks when the nurse returned. By the time they’d signed her out and had climbed into Graham’s car, Violet had fully regained her composure. Graham heard her soft sigh as he started the car and headed toward her condo. All traces of his apprehension had melted away, probably because he’d seen the cracks in her armor. It was so unlike the old, ever-composed Violet. Maybe she had changed.