She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can do this,” she whispered. “I am strong.”
But she needed to talk. She needed to stop the horrible ache, and one person came to mind: Vaughn.
Veronica Brenwood opened the door and bent to lift the heavy box left outside the door during her talk with Rosalyn. All her anger had vanished with the pain in her daughter’s eyes. She couldn’t take that away, could never change the past, but she could leave her daughter this gift.
The box had been in the attic with all the other items Rosalyn—no, she was Saffron now—had left behind. Things Veronica hadn’t been able to part with. She’d kept the box all these years, and she’d added to it as well. Today she’d hoped to use the contents to smooth the way between her and Saffron, to make her more compliant to Veronica’s suggestions about Kendall. Now she only hoped to soothe her daughter’s pain.
I’ve been such a fool. The thought didn’t sit well. No one had called her that since her brother died, well before Saffron had left home. Maybe if he hadn’t died, she wouldn’t have messed things up so badly.
Back inside the room, Veronica pushed the heavy door closed with a loud click as she contemplated where she should put the box. She didn’t want it lost in the mess of Kendall’s belongings. Finally, she went to the table and set it there. With a pen from her purse, she wrote on top of the box: For Saffron. I’m really sorry. There was so much more she should say, but she couldn’t trust that it would come out right. She didn’t even dare sign the note.
Saffron was still in the bathroom, but the silence had given way to loud, heartrending sobs. Veronica hurried to the bathroom door, her hand reaching out to touch it. Her daughter was in pain. Each breath seemed a struggle, each cry that came through the door another accusation.
I caused this. The confident, beautiful, talented young woman Saffron had become had nothing to do with her but, rather, had happened in spite of her. What kind of mother was she to have forced her pregnant sixteen-year-old daughter out into the world alone?
Was she doing something similar to Kendall? The thought made Veronica’s stomach ache. Nothing she’d planned for her daughters had gone right. Two daughters, both who hated her. Both who needed love—and who had found that love outside the walls of her home.
Veronica knew she was pathetic. But one thing she understood clearly was that she had no right to knock on that bathroom door. Biting her lip to keep the tears from falling, she left the room, this time shutting the door softly behind her.
Vaughn was helping a student manipulate a drawing on the computer when a call came from Saffron. He was tempted to ignore it and call her back later, but she knew he taught during that time and wouldn’t call unless something had happened. Maybe an accident in the car, but he’d already resigned himself to that possibility, so he was more worried about how she was than his car.
“Keep trying that,” he told the student. “If you can’t make it work, get Jodi to show you her animation. It might give you some ideas. I’ll be right back.”
He was already walking away and pushing the answer icon on his phone. “Hello?”
No response.
“Saffron?”
Was that a sob?
He fought his panic. “Saffron, are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said faintly.
“You don’t sound okay. Are you hurt? Has there been an accident? Because I don’t care about the car.”
“The car’s fine.” Her voice sounded strangled. “I-I-the dragon was here. And I told her everything, even stuff I didn’t want to tell her. I wanted her to feel bad. To take responsibility.”
His brave Saffron. He wished he’d been there for her. “Did it work?”
She made a sound that was a mix between a laugh and a sob. “I don’t think so. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. For so many years, I’ve practiced what to say, and I said it all. Only it didn’t make me feel better. It just brought everything back. And I feel . . .” Okay, she was crying now, in earnest. No hiding it this time.
“Saffron. It’s going to be okay. I promise. Look, is Halla there?”
“No, she already left.”
“What about your sister?”
“She might be going to Denver.”
Vaughn’s concern intensified. Why was she all alone? “Tell me what happened.”
A shuddering breath. “Oh, I’m sorry, Vaughn. I just realized you’re probably teaching. I’m really going to be fine. I’m just sunburned, and I gave away one of my favorite necklaces to a woman who’s probably going to throw it away.” She took another deep, gasping breath. “And I’m hungry.”
“Don’t worry about my class. Whatever I teach them, I’m going to have to repeat at least five more times. I swear, it’s like teaching monkeys sometimes. Half of them are too busy flirting to get anything done, and the other half are sleeping off the party they went to the night before.”
That elicited a soft laugh. “That’s why you shouldn’t be a teacher.”
“Maybe I should go to the zoo and see if they need a new zookeeper.” He smiled when she gave another laugh. “Come on. Tell me what happened.”
“I-I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I never told you any of it—and it’s too complicated over the phone. Part of it only Lily knew before I blurted it out today. Look, I’m feeling a lot better now. I’m sorry for interrupting your class.”
She sounded lost and it made his heart ache. “The class doesn’t matter.”
“That’s one of the things I love about you, Vaughn. You always put people first. But please go back to teaching.”
“I don’t need to.”
“I’m really okay. We can talk later. I’m hanging up now.”
“No, wait! I don’t care about the class.” But the emptiness on the line told him she’d already hung up. “I love you,” he said anyway.
What should he do? Because she most certainly wasn’t okay.
When they’d been talking the day before, with the sounds of the hotel pool around her, Vaughn had stopped himself barely in time from asking her if she’d resolved enough of her life to think about having a real relationship with him. Because he hadn’t missed the fact that she’d said nothing about the man she’d gone to see, and what the omission meant, he couldn’t begin to imagine. He wanted her happy, but what if she found happiness in another man’s arms?
Vaughn had thought giving her space was the right thing to do, but there she was all alone, so if the guy she’d gone to see was nearby, he was either clueless or a jerk. What was Vaughn doing standing around here teaching when he could be fighting for the woman he loved? What he felt now, being in Phoenix without Saffron, wasn’t living but rather some kind of odd half life where he stumbled through each day waiting to hear from her.
Enough of that. He was going to California.
Returning to his classroom, he gave a few directions and then dismissed the students fifteen minutes early. Afterward, he headed to one of his colleague’s offices. Terrance was deep in conversation with a student, the door open, but Vaughn stuck his head in and interrupted. “Look, I have to take care of an emergency. Can you take over my classes the next few days? I’ll take yours the next time you need me to.”
“Oh, yeah?” Terrence stood and crossed to the door. “I guess I could Thursday and in the mornings tomorrow and on Friday, but not the afternoons. I’m booked solid. But I bet Chance could step in. All his classes are in the morning.”
“Thanks. I’ll email him.” He’d have his aide pass out assignments at the Wednesday and Friday afternoon classes, if he had to. Getting fired for canceling classes might not look good on his resume, but he didn’t care right now. “I’ll email you my lesson plans.” Vaughn started to turn, but Terrance wasn’t finished.
“Will you also put in a word with Datatoon Studios for a couple of my students?”
“Sure. But you know if they aren’t good enough, they won’t hire them even if I recomm
end them.”
“I know. I’ve got a few months to get them up to snuff.”
“Thanks, man.” They shook hands.
“I hope everything’s okay.” Terrance’s comment came a little too late to make Vaughn feel he genuinely cared.
Vaughn couldn’t force a smile. “I hope so too. Thanks again.”
He hurried down the hall, feeling Terrance’s eyes on him. His mind raced. If he spent ten minutes in his next class, he should be able to get his students started enough for his aide to supervise the rest of the hour. He’d need another five minutes to send lesson plans to Terrance and email Chance. His apartment was on the way to the freeway, so stopping there for a change of clothes would barely take any time. It was almost three now and with a little luck, he’d be on the road to California by three-thirty. He had Halla’s phone number somewhere, and she’d know where he could find Saffron.
Bottom line, she needed someone, and he was going to be there.
20
Saffron hung up the phone with Vaughn, feeling like an idiot. She should have remembered he was teaching. Of course, he’d still taken the time to cheer her up. He was a good man. A good friend.
Friend. Which is exactly what she wanted him to be.
Despite what she’d said to him, she wasn’t okay. She was confused about Tyson, guilty over Jana, worried about Kendall, and torn between loving and hating her mother. And she missed her baby. She missed the experiences they would never have. She missed his hand curling around her finger, his first day of school, his first . . . everything. She also missed being in control of her emotions. Because until she’d come here to face her past, she’d had a cap on these volatile feelings that now seemed intent on ripping her heart from her chest.
She laid her head on her knees, clamping her eyes shut. “I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay.” Maybe if she said it enough, it would be true.
Pulling strength from a reservoir she didn’t know existed, she climbed to her feet and stripped before stepping into the tepid water.
She turned the water as cool as she could stand, dousing her back with it, and then inched it back to tepid. Once she wasn’t shivering, she set it to cold again. When she emerged fifteen minutes later, her teeth were chattering, but her burned skin was no longer warm. It was, however, looking more red than before. Ignoring her head, which was telling her to go buy something to put on her sunburn, she slipped on her night shirt and shorts, punched up the air conditioner, and crawled between the sheets.
What about Kendall? Saffron found enough strength to check her phone. A text from Kendall had come in: Going to Denver with Joel and the gang. See you later.
Poor Kendall. Her mother was right about Joel, but Kendall was so in love that she couldn’t see the danger signs. How could Saffron help her? And what if Saffron was wrong? Maybe Joel was Kendall’s one great love, and he simply needed to grow into the role.
I’ve found Tyson again, Saffron told herself.
That brought more thoughts of his parents, her mother, and the baby. Tears leaked into the pillow. Saffron hugged her knees to her chest and finally slept.
A persistent banging pulled Saffron from a restless sleep. She cracked an eye open, groping for a pillow to put over her head. It couldn’t be anyone she knew. Halla was back in Phoenix by now, Kendall would be halfway to Denver, Tyson was in San Diego with his parents, and if it was her mother, there was nothing more they had to say to each other.
The banging continued. Saffron crawled out of bed, stubbing her toes on one of Kendall’s boxes. Her burned back throbbed. She felt like screaming and dumping everything out the window. Or maybe jumping into her car and driving until she couldn’t see anymore. Until she was too numb with exhaustion to think. Of course, she didn’t have a car. Probably a good thing.
This time she used the peephole. No way was she answering if it was her mother. Or if it was Jana with an angry expression and a gun.
“Vaughn?” Saffron whispered. She yanked the door open and stepped into his arms, burrowing her face in his chest. He smelled so good and familiar. So safe. His arms went around her, and she winced when he touched her back.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
Saffron didn’t move away, and she barely sensed as someone passed them in the hallway. She didn’t care who it was. She felt small in his arms, as if his broad chest was a barrier against the world and the pain in her heart.
“Let’s get inside,” Vaughn said, gently easing her back as he came forward.
He seriously smelled so good—a hint of her favorite aftershave, the outdoors, and sunshine. She breathed him in like she breathed in air. Together, they tripped, fell, and otherwise stumbled past Kendall’s boxes and suitcases, the process made more difficult by the fact that Saffron refused to let him go. She knew she should back away, that she was probably sending the wrong message, but she was incapable of stopping herself. She’d felt so alone until he showed up.
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “You’re here,” she murmured.
“Of course I’m here. And I brought my sword.” He pulled away slightly, shrugged off his backpack, and reached into one of its pockets for a bottle of aloe vera gel. “It has analgesic in it. And I brought another remedy to use first.”
The single tear became a deluge. Saffron could barely see the consternation on his face through her tears. His arms went around her again. Tenderly.
“It’s going to be okay. I promise. Let’s get your back fixed up, and then we’ll talk, okay?”
She nodded, his words soothing her turmoil.
“Can you get your suit back on so I can help you?” he asked. “The poultice I brought is kind of messy. You can’t really do it yourself.”
The thought of her suit made her wince. “I’ll use a sheet.”
A few minutes later, she came from the bathroom, a sheet wrapped around her, drooping in the back to expose the worst of her burn. Vaughn stared at her, his expression vulnerable in a way she’d never seen before, which was strange since she was the one not wearing a shirt. She knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t take advantage of her—three months of dating and they hadn’t slept together. He’d never treated her with anger for not being ready.
A longing crashed over her as she returned his stare. He was gorgeous—the blond hair partially standing on end, the muscles showing beneath his T-shirt, the blue eyes that reminded her of the ocean. How had she forgotten the effect he had on her? She’d experienced it from the first time they’d met river rafting, though she’d been dating someone else at the time, and she’d also felt it every time he’d walked into the sports store. She’d been aware of him in a way she hadn’t been with other men, and that hadn’t changed when they started dating. She’d told herself it was simple attraction—his kisses did something serious to her body—but how could she still be feeling that attraction now when she was in love with someone else? It didn’t make sense.
Averting her gaze, she hurried to the bed and sat down.
He sat next to her. “It’d be best if you lie down on a towel. We’ll let it soak for fifteen minutes and then put on the aloe. We should put on the aloe again in a few hours.”
She pointed to the towel she’d discarded earlier on the floor and lay down after he spread it on the bed. He removed a plastic container from his backpack, mixed the contents with water from a bottle, and began smoothing it on. His fingers slid gently over her skin. Smooth fingers with a hint of roughness from his weekend rafting trips. Not long and slender surgeon’s hands like Tyson’s but every bit as careful. She’d seen Vaughn’s hands work magic on keyboards, on paper, on paddles, and on her face or neck or arm when they’d been dating. But never this intimately. Each gentle touch trailed a delicious shiver that made her want to turn and kiss him.
But they were broken up, and she wasn’t that kind of a girl. The kind of girl who kissed a man one day and made out with another the day after. Vaughn was only a friend helping another friend get over a sunbur
n, and why she was melting under his touch, she couldn’t say. Because she was determined to see where her relationship with Tyson led, to reclaim the past that should have never been stolen from them. Yet if Tyson saw her now, she knew he’d be upset.
Saffron pushed the thoughts away. Vaughn was a friend, even if she was reacting like a love-starved teenager at his touch, and she needed him right now. There was no one else. What could she do, push him out the door and cling to the warmth of her sunburn instead?
Vaughn smoothed some of his mixture onto the front of her neck, the part he could reach, and Saffron stifled a moan at the relief it brought.
“Feeling better?” he asked, withdrawing his hand. His voice sounded a little rough. Sexy. It sent goose bumps rippling across her skin.
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Don’t move. Just wait a bit. Let it soak in.”
“Okay.” Her voice sounded weird to her. Foreign.
He set the container with the mixture on the nightstand. “So what’s in this stuff?” she asked.
He laughed. “Secret family recipe.”
“I’m a little scared now.”
“It’s got oats, yarrow, calendula, lavender—among other stuff. Takes away the pain so tomorrow you won’t be feeling it nearly as much.”
Which would be good for her date with Tyson. The thought brought a shudder of nervousness to her stomach. Was she ready to move forward with him?
Vaughn settled next to her on the bed, his back propped against a pillow and the headboard. There were six inches between them, but it felt too close—and too far away. He didn’t say anything but hummed softly under his breath. Saffron let her eyes droop as the exhaustion crept back in. Her back did feel a lot better. Cooler somehow.
He awoke her sometime later, wiping her back gently with a cool cloth. “Sorry,” he said. “It’s getting a little cold in here, and I want to get the aloe on so you can put something on.” His voice was tense, but his hand was as gentle as before. She closed her eyes as he finished taking off the herbs and soothed on the aloe vera gel. “There.”
Broken Lies Page 19