Born Savages

by Cora Brent

  Since the front door is unlocked I stroll right on through it. A small blond tornado whips past my legs. Ava’s boy, Alden. He’s laughing as only kids know how to laugh.

  Ava is laughing herself as she follows the kid. Her laughter dies abruptly when she sees me. She puts her hands on her hips and cocks her head, looking none too friendly.

  I close the door behind me. There’s no one else in sight. “Is she here?”

  Ava looks me up and down. Of course I don’t know what’s gone on here in the last few days but judging from Ava’s expression it’s nothing good. I remember the deathly silence between Ren and I after we finished fucking our brains out. I remember the almost desperate look she gave me before opening the door to the truck and trudging back to the house. But at the time I thought it would be better if we just left things unsaid. I was too wrapped up in my own feelings to notice her pain.

  From the look on Ava’s face though, she understands her sister’s pain all too well. And she’s decided who is responsible.

  “Ava?” I prompt gently.

  “She’s here,” Ren’s sister says. Her kid tears back into the room and crashes into her legs. She hoists him to her hip and jerks her head toward the hall. “Last bedroom at the end. Knock first, Oz. And if she tells you to leave then you should.”

  “Fair enough. I will.”

  Alden claps his hands together a few times and I give him a little wink. I just lied to his mother but that will come out soon enough. Today, I have no intention of leaving even if Ren throws a frying pan at my head.

  One of the lesser Camera Creeps tails me as I head down the hall. Just before I turn a corner I see Brigitte lurking in the small piano alcove. She notices me but says nothing and doesn’t move. Usually she tries to insert herself in the middle of whatever might give her camera time so it’s a little out of character for her to stand down but I’ll take it.

  When I get to Ren’s door I almost just barge through it but decide to scrape together a few manners. I rap my knuckles on the wood five times and wait.

  Ren’s sigh reaches me from the other side of the door. She was probably enjoying some mid morning solitude away from the cameras.

  My entire body freezes when the door creaks open. Christ, I’m nervous, more than I was that first day I drove up here, weeks ago. Because back then I put on an armor of arrogant attitude. Now I’m going to face her with honesty. It’s tougher than it sounds.

  “Hi,” I manage to say, noting the way her eyes widen. I can’t read whether the look on her face is anything other than shock. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are slightly red. She’s cried recently. Her dark hair hangs down straight and appears damp, fresh from a shower. She’s barefoot, wearing a plain black cotton dress with thin straps that falls to her knees and doesn’t have a speck of makeup on. She’s so blindingly beautiful I can’t stand it.

  Ren recovers from her shock and crosses her arms over her chest. “You’re back.”

  “I’m back.”

  “For how long?”

  “Depends on you.”

  She cocks her head to the side, her soft lips slightly parted. “I don’t understand.”

  I have to touch her. I act like I’m trying to push a piece of nonexistent hair out of her face. She doesn’t shrink away when my fingers brush her cheek. But the shiver that rolls through her is involuntary. The idea that her tears were probably caused by me twists my gut into knots. If that’s the case then I have a new goal. I’m never ever going to be the cause of her tears again.

  My hand falls back to my side. I want to grab her, hold her, but I can’t. We can’t just pretend that all the agony, both fresh and old, never happened. If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to do it the hard way. “Ren, can I come in? Or can you come out?”

  Her eyes shift to the camera. I can tell she’s wondering what the hell I’m up to. I hope she gives me the benefit of the doubt, whether I deserve it or not.

  “Give me two minutes,” she says. “I’ll meet you out front.”

  “Take your time. I’ll wait.”

  She still looks puzzled. After all, the tone of this short encounter is rather subdued compared to the last one, when I warned her that when I was done getting my fill she’d be nothing more to me than another empty pussy. It doesn’t matter if she’d ever said or done anything to justify it. A bigger lie was never told.

  The day is a rare one full of clouds. I make my way outside and stand there in the yard beside the corner of the house where once upon a time I’d held her close a few moments after our first kiss.

  When Ren comes outside she’s wearing a pair of brown leather cowboy boots and a wary expression. The way she looks at me it’s like she’s expecting a slap. Or worse. She folds her arms in front of her chest in a defensive pose and keeps her eyes on the ground as she closes in.

  “I love you and it doesn’t matter what time or anything else does to us. Even if the worst happens and we’re ripped apart it will change nothing. I’ll still love you, Oscar.”

  How is it possible we’ve come to this? Two strangers fighting the saddest, most useless of wars.

  I meet her halfway and there’s a highly awkward second where we face off and stare at each other. Meanwhile, a sizeable lizard breaks out of some nearby sage and scurries through the space that separates us. It’s strange. Lizards don’t typically abandon their shelters to get closer to humans. Somewhere I heard that lizards represent good omens. I hope that’s true.

  She breaks the silence. “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I’m glad you came back.”

  “Are you?”

  Ren nods and inhales deeply, closing her eyes and then exhaling slowly. She opens her eyes and looks at me clearly. “Yes. Oscar, I never told you that I was sorry. I’m truly sorry for everything happened five years ago. I’m sorry for turning my back on you. I need you to know that I never believed anything Lita said. That wasn’t it. That wasn’t the reason at all. I should have said so the day you came back here but I didn’t.”

  The lizard has paused from his journey back to the brush. He jerks his head, watches us for a split second with tiny inscrutable eyes and then darts away with lightning speed.

  I shove my hands in my pockets and get closer, nudging her shoulder. “Let’s take a walk.”

  She’s surprised but she nods and her body language relaxes as we stroll beyond the yard of the big house, past the brothel, close to the cemetery. When we reach the far side of the wrought iron fence that surround the clump of fake headstones, I pause and give her a hard look.

  “Ren, I know you never believed her. I’m not an idiot. I know that somebody probably threatened you with something and that’s why you felt like you had no choice. That part’s done. And we were kids. I don’t blame you anymore for not knowing what the fuck to do.”

  We’re standing close now, close enough for my body to start responding to her. Jesus, I just can’t help it. She smells like cherries and vanilla. Plus she’s not wearing a bra. I shift from my weight casually, trying to relieve the rising pressure in my pants.

  Ren notices and a knowing smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. It’s like we’re both hit with the same memory at the exact same second. It seems like the moment just happened.

  “Didn’t know the Savages were telepathic.”

  “We’re not. You’re just transparent.”

  “What am I thinking about, Ren?”

  Her smile fades. She hugs her arms around herself and looks sadly at the corpse-free cemetery. “It wasn’t so much their threat to me. It was the threat to you. Lita said she would sick the dogs of the press on both of us and there would be nowhere to hide from the scandal she would invent. She also said she could make criminal charges stick because she’d somehow uncovered the fact that you were over eighteen.”

  “I could have handled Lita.” My voice is sharper than I meant it to be.

  “Maybe,” she whispers. Then she shakes her head miserably. “But maybe I couldn’
t. I guess that’s my biggest regret. That I never had the strength of character to really say fuck you to Lita and to every ridiculous expectation attached to this last name. Remember when you told me I’m just a shell of who I once was?”

  “Ren, I didn’t mean-“

  “Well, you were right.” She nods and looks me in the eye. “And you were wrong. I’m not tough or courageous. But then, I never was.”

  The wind picks up. A falcon flies right over our heads, its dark shadow briefly washing over us. The cameras keep rolling.

  “I’m not asking for your sympathy, Oscar. And I don’t expect it. Just know that you were once everything to me. You were everything to me for a long time, far longer than I’ve ever been able to admit.” She looks down and her voice drops to a whisper. “That’s all.”

  “That’s all,” I echo. She nods tiredly and starts to walk away. I grab her arm and pull her back a little roughly. “That’s not all, dammit. I didn’t come back here for vindication.”

  There’s a flash of something her dark eyes. She looks down to where my hand is fastened to her arm. Ren tilts her head up proudly and challenges me. “Then why did you come back?”

  I release her arm and stuff my hands back into my pockets where they can’t get into any more trouble. “I came back because once I knew you, Loren Savage. The two months I spent with you were the best ones of my life. I could see clear into your heart and I loved you with all of mine. I came back not because I want to fuck things up for you or because I want my day in the stupid spotlight. I came back because I just want you in my life again. However I can get you.”

  She takes a step back and studies me. I’ve surprised her. We’ve surprised each other. Maybe we’re not too far removed from the kids we were after all.

  Ren presses her lips together and glances back at the house. “You know,” she says. “It’ll be lunch hour soon. Spence is likely to be back anytime now from delivering a restored Thunderbird to the next county. The girls and young Mr. Alden are always happy to see anything edible. And even Monty sits down at a table now and again.” She pauses, bites a corner of her lip and looks nearly bashful. “I was thinking about making some barbecued chicken wings.”

  “I’ll help you,” I tell her because it was my offer the last time we had this conversation.

  The day we met.

  She grins. “You can cook?”

  “No. Teach me.”

  “All right, Oz. I will.”

  On the short walk back to the big house I don’t even try to touch her. For now it’s enough just to walk beside her.

  For now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  REN

  Cate Camp was wrong about Gary. He has apparently decided to take his time about showing up. Maybe once Oscar returned that was the end of the Born Savages emergency and he just didn’t feel like hauling his cookies out of Los Angeles. After all, chilling on the coast is probably more pleasant than sweltering in the desert. Whatever the reason, I think I can safely say that nobody has been yearning for his arrival.

  Regardless, this morning we have word that apparently he’s on his way. We are told to expect him within the hour. Cate Camp is tearing around here like a bleached lunatic. The camera crew fuss with their equipment and glance fearfully at the sky, as if they are expecting the lumpy form of Gary Vogel to descend directly on their heads like a turkey vulture. Everywhere, from the brothel to the church, there is the frantic drumbeat of ‘Gary is coming!’ I hope Atlantis Star can handle it.

  Oz is outside with the boys. There shouldn’t be anything sexy about a man carrying a shovel full of horseshit but somehow he makes it look good.

  Not that I’m looking.

  Ever since he unexpectedly returned three weeks ago, everything has changed.

  Oz is a friend now. Nothing more, nothing less. He helps in the kitchen, cooperates with the crew and joins me on twilight walks around the perimeter, pointing out creatures and rock formations of interest. We steer clear of any subject heavier than the dangers of rattlesnakes. To the rest of the family, even Monty, he is down right sociable.

  Life has been quiet. Life has been pleasant.

  Maybe that’s Gary’s problem. Quiet living makes for boring television.

  But Oz and I have been getting along so well. It certainly makes no sense to consider spoiling our new friendship by running my hot tongue over the sweaty ridges of his six pack and then dipping lower to nip at that that delectable happy trail until I get to…

  “Ren!”

  “What!”

  Brigitte manages to startle me so badly I drop a wine glass. It shatters all over the terra cotta and I curse as I gather the shards into a pile. Brigitte watches me.

  “You’re jumpy,” she observes.

  “You’re smart,” I mutter.

  Bree pointedly looks out the window, sees the shirtless, magnificent Oz out there helping Spence repair a fence post. She grins.

  “Nice view.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “It’s all right,” she mocks. “You missed that piece of glass by the fridge.” She puts her hands on her hips and bites her lip. “I suppose our visitor will be here any minute. Are you worried?”

  “Are you?”

  “I don’t know.” Bree snaps her fingers and addresses a quiet corner of the room. “What do you think, Rash? Do we have any reason to worry? Is Gary going to shut down production because we’re not interesting enough? Put that camera down for a minute and tell us what you know.”

  “Not allowed to socialize with the talent,” he answers but there’s a smile in his voice.

  Brigitte bats her eyelashes. “I do love being called ‘the talent’. Say it again please.”

  “Industry term,” Rash laughs. “You are all ‘the talent.’”

  Brigitte starts to say something but then stops and returns to the window. I hear it too. It’s a low buzzing that grows closer and breaks into a rhythmic chopping sound.

  “That’s him,” Rash says cheerfully.

  I join Bree at the window and see a growing black dot in the brilliant blue sky.

  “Where’s he plan to land that thing?”

  Bree shrugs. “Wherever he wants, I guess.”

  “Ladies,” says Rash, setting down his camera. “It’s Gary time.”

  By the time we get outside, Gary’s descending chopper is wreaking all kinds of havoc. The chickens are flapping and trying to escape the coop. Spencer shouts an obscenity and starts jogging toward the barn to soothe the horses. Cate Camp stands rooted to a spot that looks destined to be covered by a helicopter in less than a minute. Her brassy hair whips around in seventeen directions and she’s holding her arms out.

  Monty and Oz have stopped whatever they’re doing and are just watching everything. Mercifully, Oz has pulled his shirt back on, covering most of that tempting tanned muscle.

  Just as I walk over to stand between them, Monty hisses and points to where Cate Camp stands with arms outstretched.

  “Does she think she’s going to catch the fucking thing?”

  “Maybe.” I have an uneasy feeling that we’re about to witness what happens when woman and helicopter collide.

  “Goddamn idiot,” Monty mutters and jogs over to forcibly remove Cate Camp from a bloody fate.

  Oz stands so close to me I can feel his body heat. I look up at him and find that he’s already watching me. He gives me an amused little wink that sets all kinds of things in motion that I can’t think about right now.

  To my surprise, Gary Vogel himself is the one piloting the chopper. He lands seamlessly, without causing any damage. As soon as he climbs out of the helicopter, all spray tanned and combed over, he only wastes a split second glancing around at the barren view of Atlantis Star before heading right over to us. Cate Camp is full of whines and protests but he brushes her off.

  Something touches my leg and I look down to see my nephew grinning up at me.

  “Hugs?” he lisps and I hoist him up into my
arms.

  Brigitte and Ava are standing on the porch looking a little anxious so I offer them a smile. It will be all right. Whatever Gary came here to say or do, we will be all right.

  Gary Vogel is a man who gets right to the point. He greets us all without much fuss and beckons for us to follow him inside the big house. By the time we’re all indoors he’s made himself comfortable on Rex Savage’s morally abhorrent chair of elephant tusks. He’s not smiling. He watches us file in with a very grave expression.

  “Apologies for the short notice, my friends. I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your mother is dead.”

  Someone gasps. I think it was Ava. I’m trying to let the words sink in.

  “Lita is dead?”

  “Quite.” He snaps his fingers and Cate Camp scurries over with a magically procured bottle of water. “Early this morning her maid found her. No signs of a struggle. A brain aneurysm is suspected although the autopsy will tell more. She was found stiff and naked on a velvet settee in the pool house.” He grimaces. “Forgive me. That detail was unnecessary.”

  I have to wonder how in the hell Gary came by this information before we did but considering how connected Gary is, the fact that he would hear the news first is not exactly far fetched.

  My hands are clasped in front of me and I stare down at them, trying to feel something about the death of the woman who gave me both life and misery. Each of my siblings seems to be processing the news separately and none of us say a word. Oz is closest to me. It’s Oz’s strong hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly for comfort. I cover his hand with my own and squeeze back.

  When I look up I notice Gary Vogel is watching us. Not all of us. Just me and Oz.

  “There’s more,” he says.

  A bad feeling is born somewhere deep inside my gut. It starts to grow. My sisters glance at me with confusion and I shrug. Monty crosses his arms and scowls. Spence appears bored.