All Falls Down

by Morgen, Ayden K.

  Is Lexi in danger? How is Jared keeping her safe? Who killed Matthew?

  There are a thousand questions I want to ask. Unfortunately, the one person I could have burdened with them has made it abundantly clear that it's not my concern, that I don't belong and have no right to ask. I think I may resent him for reminding me that I'm an outsider when I already feel it so acutely.

  "Savannah." Lexi turns her head in my direction. Her baby blue eyes are red-rimmed and full of pain. She's still the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. "How's Maddi?" she asks.

  "She's sleeping." I make my way to the deli trays spread across the bar. Nothing looks appetizing, but I select a few bits of cheese, crackers, and grapes. I have to eat eventually. "Jared's sitting with her."

  "That's good. She adores him." Lexi sighs and reaches for the coffee pot. She lifts it in my direction, asking if I want a cup, and I shake my head no. She pours for herself and leans back against the counter, nursing the steaming mug in her hands.

  She watches me while I eat.

  "He seems fond of her, too," I finally offer, picking at the pathetic selection on my napkin. I want to sit, to relax, but I don't dare. The stools along the counter are too high, and Lexi's standing between me and the table. My back already hurts. It doesn't seem as if the stitches are already out, but they are. Fourteen of them held my skin together, keeping my inside things where they belong.

  The reminder makes me queasy.

  I open my eyes and blink against the harsh white light blaring down on me from directly overhead. I'm lying down, and I have no idea where I am. Everything hurts. I'm completely disoriented.

  I try to sit up, but a hand reaches out and pushes me back down.

  "No, no!" A woman I've never seen before leans down over me and fires off a rapid string of Italian.

  I can't understand what she's saying to me. I just hurt.

  "Dove?" I ask. My throat is dry and painful, causing the word to crack.

  She says something else and then a word I understand. Ospedale. I'm in the hospital.

  Vague images flicker through my mind. Glass, blood.

  Oh God, Toby and Laney.

  The woman says something else and then frowns when I don't respond. "Capisce?"

  "Non capisco," I mutter. Nausea rolls through me, images of Toby grunting atop Laney flickering through my mind.

  The woman – nurse – huffs, her frustration obvious. "Parla Italiano?"

  I know this one, too. But I don't know the answer. I don't know anything.

  "No lo so," I mumble. I'm frigid. I'm….

  "No lo so," I whisper again. A tear slides down my temple into my hairline.

  "You fell in glass, Miss Martin," she says in accented English this time. Her expression softens, her hand still on my shoulder to keep me down. "A piece pierced your kidney. You're in the hospital; you've been here for three days."

  Three days?

  "Okay," I whisper, a tear dripping onto my ear.

  "He is," Lexi says, pulling me back into the present.

  I jerk at the sound of her voice.

  Lexi notices.

  "Are you okay?" she asks.

  "I'm fine." I ball the napkin up and drop it into the trashcan, my appetite completely gone. I can't bring myself to look up at Lexi again so I stare at the floor instead. Black and white tiles gleam like pieces on a chessboard beneath the strappy sandals Kit forced me to wear.

  "How are you, Savannah?" Lexi asks, reaching for my hand. "Really?"

  And I know Kit told her everything.

  "I'm–" I don't know how to answer her question. I want to tell her the truth. I want to tell her anything but the truth. I just want to forget. "I don't know," I finally say as she squeezes my hand in hers. And I don't know. I haven't known how I am or what I think or what I'm doing once in the last few weeks. Yet, everyone keeps asking, expecting me to have an answer. And maybe I should have one.

  I don't know that either.

  All I know is that I'm here. Alive. In San Francisco.

  "Savannah." Lexi wraps her arm around my shoulder.

  The gesture is too much. I'm exhausted, confused, in pain, and we just buried her father, yet she's offering me comfort. The last weeks of turmoil break free as if a dam has burst. I start to cry, great, wracking sobs that I can't even slow, let alone stop.

  Her kindness is one of so few in the last two years and it's unbearable.

  She ushers me toward the table on the far side of the room and pushes me gently into a chair before wrapping her arms around my shoulders and pulling me into her. I rest my head against her stomach and just sob. For the girl I was. For the person I am. For fourteen stitches, broken dreams, and a home I don't have.

  "I'm sorry," I cry, trying to pull back to wipe my face.

  "Shh, Savannah. It's okay." Lexi strokes my hair as I've done for both of her sisters in the last eighteen hours and it feels good. Safe. "You're going to be okay."

  I want to believe her, but I don't.

  "Here, drink this." Lexi presses a glass into my hand.

  I've stopped crying, but my cheeks burn with shame. I don't know what came over me, and I don't know how to react now that the storm of tears has passed. Taking the glass, I bring it to my lips to sip.

  My hands tremble, causing the water to slosh, but I don't spill it.

  "Thank you," I whisper, passing the glass back to Lexi.

  Her bare feet disappear from view for a moment before they return. The chair beside mine scrapes when she pulls it out and settles into it. For just a moment, it's completely silent in the room. And then snatches of conversation from other parts of the house trickle through. A discordant tune plucked out on the piano in the music room sounds faint and far away.

  "Does he know where you are?" Lexi asks.

  "I didn't tell him anything. I just left."

  "Good." She sounds pleased. "If that bastard shows up here…."

  "I don't think he will. I'm not worth coming after."

  "Stop it," she snaps.

  My gaze flies up to hers to find her staring at me.

  Her blue eyes flash with anger.

  "He was a bastard, and you deserve better. Don't doubt that."

  I know this. I think.

  "I'm sorry."

  She huffs and her expression softens for a minute before turning fierce again. "I want to kill him," she mutters under her breath.

  I flinch and she sighs.

  "I'm sorry. I know this is hard for you."

  "I'm–" I start to apologize again but she stops me.

  "You have nothing to be sorry for, Savannah. He hurt you, abused you." Loose blonde waves bounce as she shakes her head, disgust stamped across her face. "Why didn't you tell us? We would have come for you."

  "I–"

  Why didn't I tell them?

  Why didn't I leave earlier?

  Why didn't I do anything other than stay and obey?

  I don't know the answers to any of these questions.

  "I thought he loved me."

  It sounds false to my own ears, but I did believe it. Once.

  "You are so fucking stupid! Every fucking time I tell you…. I'm so tired of you not listening. You can't even get a simple request right."

  "I'm sorry," I cry.

  "You're always fucking sorry!" he yells. A picture frame shatters against the wall beside me, glass raining down across the floor.

  The door slams shut.

  I curl up on the couch with my arms wrapped around me. Tears pour down my face and my nose runs, but I can't seem to care. Nothing I do ever seems good enough for Toby. It's like I can't please him. I can't win.

  I'm not sure how long I sit there crying, but the apartment darkens.

  The front door opens not long later and he comes in again, closing the door quietly behind him.

  I stare at the coffee table when he stops in front of me.

  I feel his eyes on me but I'm scared to meet his gaze. If he kicks me out, I don't know what I
'll do. Where I'll go. We've been here three months and I know no one. I think I resent that.

  "Look at me," he pleads. His voice trembles. "Savannah, please look at me."

  I do, and he seems broken as he drops to his knees in front of me.

  "I'm sorry," he groans. "Oh God, I'm sorry."

  I want to turn away from him, ignore him, but I can't. He looks so miserable. I reach out and pull him up onto the sofa beside me before stretching out with my head in his lap. His hand curls around mine and holds tightly. He strokes my back with the other while I cry quietly.

  "You hurt me," I whisper. "The things you said…."

  "I didn't mean it, Sav," he says. "I didn't mean any of it. You just make me so crazy when you don't listen to me."

  "I'm sorry." I squeeze his hand. "I'll do better next time."

  "I love you. You know that, right?"

  I believe him.

  "I was so stupid," I mutter, more to myself than to Lexi.

  "You weren't stupid. You were just a kid." She's making excuses for me.

  "I was nineteen," I remind her.

  "And I was oblivious. We all were." She frowns. "We should have gone after you, made sure you were really okay over there with him."

  "It's not your fault." I don't think I can take it if she blames herself. It's my fault. I was so stupid, so naïve. "It's over now. He's out of my life for good." I hope.

  I'm terrified he'll come for me.

  Will I be able to tell him to go to hell if he does?

  Again, I don't know. And again, I hate myself a little for it.

  She peers at me for a moment and then nods. "What are you going to do now?"

  It's the million dollar question. Yet another I don't know how to answer.

  "I'm not sure. I think maybe… I'll get a job?" I've never really had one before, but I can do something, right? My stomach flutters with uncertainty.

  Lexi frowns again. "What about school? You can transfer, right?"

  I'm so surprised she doesn't already know that I just blurt it out. "I wasn't in school."

  "What?" Her eyes widen. "I thought you transferred your scholarship so you could go to school with him. You were…." She must notice something on my face because she trails off.

  "He didn't want me to go," I whisper, staring at the tabletop so I don't have to see her processing this news.

  "Jesus, Savannah," she finally whispers, shock heavy in her voice. "You didn't go at all?"

  "I went for two weeks." I'm so ashamed. "I gave up my scholarship."

  Lexi's silent, processing my answer. And then she sighs softly and squeezes my hand in hers again. "You're staying here."

  There's a ring of finality in her tone and I want to agree. It would be so easy to just agree with her, but I don't belong here.

  "I can't do that," I say. "I can't impose on you and Kit, especially not now."

  "It's not imposing," she snorts. "You belong here. I don't give a shit what Toby told you. You're our family and you're staying. Besides, Daddy left the guesthouse and everything in it to you."

  My eyes fly to hers again. I'm sure my mouth is hanging open.

  She smiles despite her sorrow. "Welcome home, Savannah."

  Rain sheets down around me, blocking out the world as I sit on the porch of the guest house. Staring out into the night, I'm in my own little bubble.

  Home.

  I can't wrap my mind around the fact that Matthew left the guesthouse to me, but he has. Lexi was quite clear on that fact. So was the letter he left for me.

  February 23, 2012

  Savannah,

  We haven't seen you in over a year, my dear, and I have no one but myself to blame for that. We miss you intensely and I often wonder if we did the right thing by letting you go, but you were so certain. You've always been so constant, so sure. I know that you're doing great things in Italy, and tell myself often that you don't need us hovering. You're so independent. The girls could learn a thing or two from you on that front.

  An old man is allowed to be selfish and miss his fourth daughter though, right? No matter where life takes you or what you do with it; I want you to remember that you will always have a home with us. I've ensured it. The guesthouse and everything in it is to be given into your custody should anything averse happen to me.

  I plan to be around for a long time though, kiddo, so don't fret.

  Each of the girls has had a trust fund established since birth. We set one up for you before Caitlyn passed. In the event of my death, you'll be provided for the same as the three blondes.

  I'm not certain why I feel a need to write this out for you now, but you know me. One step ahead and all that jazz. Garrity has all of the paperwork and information you might need. And I am, of course, looking forward to telling you all of this in person just as soon as you're finished taking Italy by storm, but I thought it fitting to write it out now, on your twentieth.

  Happy birthday, Savannah. We miss you.

  All my love,

  Matthew

  My mind is a whirlwind of thought. I'm still trying to make sense of the letter, of why he'd do all of this for me. The guesthouse, a trust fund… I don't deserve either.

  So very proud of you.

  Matthew was proud of me.

  "I'm sorry I let you down," I whisper into the sheeting rain. I doubt he can hear me, wherever he is, but I need to let him know anyway.

  "Talking to yourself?" Jared asks, materializing beneath the oak tree again.

  For some reason, I'm not surprised to see him.

  He has a raincoat on, but he's left the hood down. His hair is drenched, and rain pours down his face. When he looks up at me with those cool green eyes, he takes my breath away. He isn't smiling, but he seems less angry than usual. Almost hesitant.

  "You're soaked," I mutter and tear my gaze away from him when butterflies start fluttering in my stomach. "I'll get you a towel."

  "I'm fine, Savannah," he says softly and starts up the steps toward me.

  I don't listen, of course. He's coming closer and I'm completely overwhelmed by him.

  I struggle to my feet. "It's fine, I'll just go grab you a towel."

  "I don't need a towel," he insists, taking the final step.

  My hand is on the doorknob when his voice sounds again.

  "Savannah, dammit! Stop."

  The instant the curse leaves his mouth, I freeze. Tears begin burning at my eyes again. Defeat courses through me, and my head droops. Why can't I ever do anything right by him?

  "I'm sorry." The apology is little more than a whisper.

  I think I hear him sigh. I don't dare look up at him to find out though. Yet again, I've managed to anger him, to upset him. Nothing I do is right. It's Italy and Toby all over again, and I don't have the strength to go through it again here, now. Especially when Jared sounds so different, as if he gets no satisfaction from hurting me. I don't even know why I'm so certain of that, but I am.

  Jared is different. Confusing.

  It's so frustrating!

  The wood of the porch creaks when he takes a step.

  "I'm sorry," he says, his booted feet coming into view. "I shouldn't have yelled at you." His apology is so different than Toby's were. There is no but involved, no excuse. It's just… an honest apology.

  "I'm sorry," I offer in return, my gaze on the boards beneath my feet.

  This time, I'm certain he sighs. And it's a heavy, frustrated sigh.

  "Why do you do that?" he demands.

  "Do what?" I risk a quick glance up only to find him staring down, as irritated with me as ever.

  He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose.

  "Never mind," he says. He drops his hand and mutters something under his breath, speaking so quietly all I can make out is scared kitten.

  It makes no sense to me, but I don't ask for clarification. Instead we stare at one another for a long moment. My nerves are shot, but I'm not sure I want him to go just yet.

  Lickin
g my lips, I muster up some courage. "Do you want to sit?"

  His expression changes between one heart beat and the next. It's warm again, soft.

  "Yeah." He nods, smiling. "I'll sit."

  Finally, I've done something right.

  Chapter Four: The Gift

  Jared stares at me for a long time without saying anything. I'm caught in his gaze and the way it causes warmth to steal over me. I know I should break away, but I don't want to. He seems so… I don't know how to explain it. Conflicted. Like he's struggling with something beyond his comprehension.

  I want to tell him that it can't be that bad, but sometimes, it is that bad.

  I say nothing instead and pull my gaze away from him to stare out at the rain. Lightning ruptures the sky at regular intervals. It's almost as if a disco ball hangs in the clouds and the rain dances beneath it.

  Snort at the thought, I shake my head.

  "You can sit again, you know," Jared says, lowering his tall frame onto the porch swing. The chains creak.

  It's a familiar sound, one I've heard a thousand times before.

  "Sav!"

  I lift my head from my book to see Kit bounding up the steps, her blonde hair tossed up into a messy ponytail. The setting sun causes it to gleam.

  I scoot over on the swing just in time for her to drop down beside me.

  "Kit." I close my book, knowing I won't get any reading done now. She has that air about her, as if something weighs heavily on her mind. I sit the book down beside us and turn to her. "What's up?"

  She reaches over and grabs the book instead of answering. Her eyebrow lifts. "Candide again?"

  I shrug one shoulder in response. I love Candide and the simplicity of his mind. His life wasn't easy by any measure, but there's something peaceful about knowing he comes out the other end okay. When I read about him, for a little while at least, there's order in the universe. A place for everyone and everyone in their place.

  I envy Candide and his never-ending well of optimism.

  Not that I'll ever tell Kit that, of course.

  She laughs before handing the book back to me.