Sarah Mine

by Riann Colton

  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?”

  “Even after all the shit. Ask me your first question again, Billy.”

  “How were you able to forgive Ally?”

  My brother stood up and squeezed my hand. “Same way Sarah is able to forgive you, kid. Come inside, Hill. Time to stop running. And stop giving my wife shit for her mistakes or I will take you down.” Jax snagged the handle to the carrier and walked inside, the front door open behind him.

  Switching the camera setting to view mode, I panned back a few pictures and stared down at the headstone. My thumb hovered then I hit the delete button. The previous photo was Sarah lying in her bed, asleep as she had been that morning. She had my camera. I was going to go back for it. It was my lifeline.

  Just like her. I powered off the camera, grabbed my bag and followed my big brother inside. If anyone could help me get my shit together, it was going to be Jax. Fixing my life was, after all, his hobby.

  This was going to suck.

  Jax’s life lessons always did.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sarah

  I felt a little nauseous as I followed the tidy sidewalk to the door. Nerves were a powerful thing. Before I could ring the doorbell, I spotted the note that said to use the back door. With a little sigh of exhaustion, I walked around the side of the house. I could hear the water and there was a tug of envy. Even though I lived in a town along the Georgia Strait, I didn’t get to see the water. This house way on the other side of the strait had one hell of a view.

  The deck was monstrous. Huge. Oh, what I could do with a view like this. It was way more inspiring than the one of my fence. Every morning I could sit on the railing and draw. I yearned for this view.

  When I looked away, I saw the bare feet first. Crossed at the ankles and resting on the railing. That’s when I knew.

  Sneaky Deverauxs.

  Hill was sprawled in a chair, watching me, his camera aimed at me. The camera I had forgotten about because of nerves. Very sneaky. “You broke into my house?”

  “Breaking and entering is such a harsh term. Did you know Jax had a key?”

  No, I hadn’t known that. Sneaky Deverauxs. “Is there even a barbecue?”

  I had known when Jax had casually mentioned a barbecue that I would see Hill. There was a fine line between what I was more nervous about: seeing him or being part of the art show.

  His lips curled in the bad boy grin I knew so well. “Of course. Smile, baby.” Even from the slight distance between us, I heard the shutter click as I glanced down. He lowered his feet and uncurled from his slouch. As he walked toward me, my heartbeat grew a little faster and a little louder. “That is really annoying. Hi,” he said as his hand cupped the back of my head and he gave me a slow, thorough kiss that left me breathless.

  “Hi,” I whispered back. He looked good. He had gotten a hair cut and his eyes didn’t look haunted. I caressed his cheek then rose up on my toes to kiss him again. “Sneaky, William. Very sneaky.”

  He smiled against my mouth. “I have my moments.”

  I smacked his shoulder then impulsively threw my arms around him. “I missed you,” I whispered, half afraid to vocalize my feelings. But I had. Every day since he had left his camera behind, I had missed him, looking for his stupid boots resting on my railing. Two months, I thought. Two long months.

  No phone calls, no emails, nothing but that camera telling me he’d be back. Not for the camera. For me. Arms wrapped around me, holding me close. Maybe, just maybe, he had missed me too. The thought made me smile even as my heart fluttered nervously.

  “I had some things to do. I sent the pictures in,” he said. “I thought about what you said, and Jax is always good for bossing me around. I sent them in, because he deserved more than to stay on my laptop.”

  I nodded, rubbing his back, knowing Jax wasn’t the he Hill was referring to. It didn’t surprise me that he had done something with his photos. “Good.”

  “I turned down another assignment though. I had some shit to do. Can I show you?”

  Nodding, I let him take my hand, and we walked into the house. It was a little bare furniture-wise. A couple of bar stools at the breakfast counter, a leather couch with a coffee table covered in photos. “Those are yours,” I said as I caught a glimpse of the pictures. I studied the pictures.

  “Yes.”

  I picked up a picture, my eyebrow rising because it was a photo of me. One he had taken of me undressing. They were, I realized, all of me, except one. It was an iron sign arching over a gate, a declaration of ownership while saying keep out. I ran my finger over the name Deveraux. “I went to the funeral.”

  “Why?”

  Jax had been there too. A quiet figure sitting on a pew who watched and listened to them talk about the great things Big Jack Deveraux had done. There was no greatness in the man. “Because he’s dead and he can’t hurt you anymore. Any of you.”

  “Sarah,” he said softly, pressing his lips against the back of my neck. “I thought of going. Nothing good would have come of it.”

  “No more fuck you to him?”

  “No more. He’s not worth it.”

  I turned to face him. “You really did get your shit together didn’t you? Did William Hilton Deveraux grow up on me?” He grinned and gave me a kiss, before he plucked the photo away and tossed it back onto the table. Then he pinc
hed my ass.

  “No.”

  “Oh, thank God.”

  There were boxes stacked up against the wall. All of them were titled and dated. I recognized the locations from some of his shoots. Were those boxes filled with photos? Some framed photos of little girls were on the wall. I recognized Ava and Elise, and assumed the other girls were Matt’s. That made me smile. He had family pictures up.

  “This used to be Jax’s place,” Hill said, heading downstairs. His fingers entwined with mine. “Before the new house was finished.” He turned and leaned his back against a door. “He’s letting me rent while the paperwork goes through. It’s going to be mine.”

  A home. He had a home. Leaning forward, I lightly kissed him. “No more hotels?” I wondered if that had always been Jax’s plan: to give his wayward younger brother a home. Considering the way Jax could plan, I had no doubt.

  “No more hotels. I need a place to…come back to. ”

  That made my heart clench. Not my place?

  “So I’ve spent the past couple of weeks getting to know my brothers again. I’ve got some pretty cool sisters too. Mostly, though, I’ve been getting my shit together. This used to be the family room,” he said softly, staring at me. “I’ve made a few changes. I took away some of the square footage and put in a dark room. But I realized something when I was with you.”

  I liked that he had a dark room. I liked that a lot. But he would come back here and not to me. “What?”

  “You need more light, Sarah mine.” He twisted the doorknob and his weight on the door swung open. I stared. The view. The wall was all window and looked out at that water view he had on the deck. The other walls were a soft yellow, the hardwood floors were stained dark and glistened under the lights. A sketchbook sat on the floor and I walked over to it. It was the same one I used; a box of the markers I preferred sat on top. Both were new. It was so easy to imagine my studio in here. There was a door across the room with a light above it. His dark room. And this, I thought as my heart pounded hard and fast with excitement, was my studio.