by Linda Kage
When she actually heard footsteps, she yipped out a small scream.
Oh, God. Her father had found out.
Braxton sat up, frowning. “What the hell.” He lifted the blankets like he was going to leap from the bed and go investigate.
A woman appeared in the doorway.
“Jesus!” Braxton gasped, dropping the sheets back over his waist and scrambling to cover himself.
Lenna screamed again and clutched her half of the sheet, pulling it all the way to her chin.
The woman was pretty and looked to be the same age as Lenna. Her shoulder-length hair was dark brown, almost black, and her blue eyes were flaming mad. Her hands fisted at her sides as she glared at them.
“Braxton Michael Farris—” she growled.
“Damn it, Savannah,” he said, cutting her off. “Do you mind?” He motioned toward the bed, trying to alert her to the fact he wasn’t dressed and had company.
But the girl didn’t seem to care. Her eyes only sparked hotter. “How many times,” she bit out, “do I have to tell you...my name is Clara!”
Braxton closed his eyes and cursed under his breath. Lenna glanced at him and then returned her attention to his irate guest, utterly lost. What the hell was going on?
She jumped and shrank closer to Braxton when she realized the girl was shooting daggers her way.
The woman sniffed and wrinkled her nose. “Who is she?”
“This is Lenna,” Braxton announced calmly, though Lenna wasn’t so sure she wanted his wacko-freak woman knowing her name.
Clara—or Savannah, as Braxton had called her—turned her scowl back to him, immediately dismissing Lenna as she commanded, “Well, get rid of her. I need to talk to you.”
Braxton snorted. “I don’t think so, Savannah. You need to turn your little butt around and get the hell out of my room. How’d you get in here, anyway?”
Clara held up a key and smirked.
He sputtered. “Where’d you get that?”
“Under the welcome mat in front of your door,” she hissed right before winding her arm back and throwing the chunk of metal straight at his head.
Lenna and Braxton ducked together, and the key smacked against the wall above them.
“Vannah,” he bellowed. “That’s enough.”
As if his shout flipped a switch, the girl changed. Her shoulders twitched, and she began to convulse.
“Oh, hell,” Braxton cursed, frantically looking around the room like he was searching for something to help the girl.
But Clara was already starting to compose herself. She blinked repeatedly, her breathing shuddering back to normal. She lifted her face and looked around as if she had no idea where she was.
When her eyes latched onto him, they widened. “Braxton?” she whispered.
“Savannah?” he whispered back.
In answer, her eyes filled with tears. She glanced at Lenna, who was openly gaping.
“I...I...I’m so sorry,” she told them, stumbling in reverse, before she turned and fled the room.
“Vannah, no!” Braxton barked, almost charging after her, though he paused when he lifted the sheet and once again saw how naked he was. “Shit! Don’t go. Just…wait!” he called.
But she was already gone
Spitting out a stream of expletives, he threw off the sheets and leaped from the bed, grabbing clothes as he went. Lenna’s mouth dropped, watching him jerk her panties off the floor and try to put them on before he realized they weren’t his.
“Where’re my damn clothes?” he muttered, tossing her underwear onto the mattress in her direction and searching anxiously for his own.
Lenna snatched her undies close as Braxton’s gaze darted around the room.
“Who was that?” she asked.
“My sister,” he answered in a distracted tone as he yanked on a pair of pants. He glanced her way, and stumbled. “Lenna. Jesus. I am so sorry. My sister is—Shit. I need to catch her before she tries to leave.” He started to run toward the door, absentmindedly motioning in her direction. As he fled, he called, “Just...wait right there.”
But Lenna did no such thing. As soon as he was out of sight, she dressed in record time. She borrowed his comb and brushed her hair, shoving the teeth through her tangled locks so fast her eyes watered. Pulling the mass into a ponytail, she dashed from the master suite and found the Farris siblings in the living room. Stopping abruptly just outside the doorway, she peered cautiously inside.
Braxton’s sister sat in the middle of his sofa with her shoulders hunched over her body. She held her hands clasped tightly in her lap and pressed her knees snugly together. Braxton crouched in front of her and handed her a glass of water. His sister wiped at her watery eyes before accepting the cup. “Thank you,” she mumbled and then drank deeply.
When she finished, she handed it back.
Braxton eyed her with concern. “Better?”
Snorting out a derisive laugh, the girl wiped at her eyes again. “I’m so sorry, Brax. I have no idea why I came—”
“Hey,” he said, interrupting her and running a lovingly hand over her hair. “Don’t worry about it. It’s okay.”
Clara or Savannah, or whoever she was, glanced at him, and more tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want to be this way anymore.”
Braxton’s face contorted, and he pulled her into a hard hug.
“I don’t want to keep doing this to you,” she sobbed. “Or to Mom, and Dad, and—”
“Shh,” Braxton instructed harshly. “It’s going to be okay.”
When Savannah once again lifted her hand to wipe at her eyes, she spotted Lenna peeking into the room.
“Oh,” she said, surprised, and pulled away from her brother. “Hello. Have we met?”
Braxton turned and popped to his feet. “Lenna,” he said breathlessly. He glanced almost guiltily to the girl on the couch, who pushed to her feet as well. “Lenna,” he repeated, more calmly. “This is my sister, Savannah. Van, this is Lenna.”
Lenna took a cautious step through the doorway as his seemingly calmed sister smiled at her.
“Hello,” the girl greeted. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Unable to give the same reply, Lenna nodded and glanced quizzically toward Braxton. He fidgeted, stuffing his hands into his pocket only to yank them out again. When their gazes met, he opened his mouth. But no words came. As if grasping his need for salvation, the phone rang.
Braxton jumped about a foot off the ground and then rubbed at the back of his neck with a self-conscious laugh. “I’ll get that,” he said and hurried from the room, meeting Lenna’s eyes once more as he rushed by.
She wanted to grab him, to keep him from leaving her alone with his psycho sister. But she didn’t. Instead, she turned warily toward Savannah Farris and gave the brunette a small smile.
“I, uh,” Savannah said. “I guess you’re wondering what’s going on, huh?”
Lenna didn’t answer. She glanced toward the doorway, praying Braxton would re-enter the room any moment now.
“I was in a bad wreck about nine months ago,” Savannah said.
Lenna whirled back. “Ooh. I...I’m sorry to hear that.” She vaguely recalled her father mentioning that Spencer Farris’s daughter had been in an automobile accident. If she remembered correctly, the girl had even been in a coma for a couple of months, too.
“Anyway,” Savannah went on. “I’ve been pretty messed up since then. Sometimes, I think I’m this person named Clara.” She had to glance away when she added, “It’s called dissociative identity disorder.” Then she shrugged. “In other words, I have a split personality.”
Lenna’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, God.”
Her face flamed when she realized what kind of appalled expression she must’ve made. “I mean, I... I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
Savannah’s grin was quick. “Not a lot of people do. To tell the truth, I really don’t want it spread around. My family keeps it as quiet for me as possible.”
/>
She glanced down at her hands. “So, uh, if I was rude to you earlier, I’m really sorry. I wasn’t...well, I wasn’t me.”
She lifted big, blue eyes to Lenna, looking so miserable and apologetic, Lenna melted.
“You weren’t rude,” she assured.
“I wasn’t?” Savannah asked in surprise. Her shoulders slumped. “It’s just that when I’m Clara, I’m pretty bossy. At least, that’s what they tell me. I don’t actually remember...” Her words died off, and a haunted look entered her expression.
Lenna sympathized. She could only imagine how upsetting it’d be to forget half of the things she did. Life must be awful for Braxton’s sister. She wanted to say something to ease Savannah’s misery.
But Savannah beat her to the punch. Lifting her eyes, she pulled a smile to her lips. “So, how long have you and Brax been—”
“That was Dad,” Braxton interrupted, hurrying into the room. His eyes darted to Lenna before they settled on Savannah. “He and Mom have been looking everywhere for you. They’re just a couple of blocks away and will be here in a minute.”
“Oh, no,” Savannah gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. “Were they very worried?”
Braxton shrugged but couldn’t quite meet her gaze. “They’re okay.” He paused, clearly clueless as to what to say next. His eyes strayed toward Lenna; they begged her forgiveness and understanding.
“I told Lenna the truth,” Savannah said.
Whirling to face her, Braxton gaped. “You did?”
When Savannah nodded, his face tightened.
He cleared the expression off his features and managed a heart-rendering smile. “Thank you.”
“She said I wasn’t rude to her, but I don’t think I believe her.”
Braxton grinned. “Nah, you were too busy being rude to me.”
Savannah rolled her eyes. “I don’t have to be Clara to be rude to you.”
Their teasing worked to lighten the mood, and the two grinned at each other. Braxton glanced toward Lenna. They shared a smile too—his filled with relief; hers as supportive as she could make it. She wanted to go to him and just hold him.
“So, what did I do?” Savannah asked, interrupting Lenna and Braxton’s silent connection. “And why did I end up here?”
Braxton shrugged. “I don’t know. You said you needed to talk to me, and then you turned back into yourself.”
“Hmm.” Savannah sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “I wonder what I wanted to tell you.”
Before anyone could guess the answer, the front door burst open and two people spilled inside. One of them was Spencer Farris.
Lenna’s eyes widened; she took a step in reverse.
“Savannah!” cried the woman rushing in after Mr. Farris. She ran straight to Braxton’s sister and pulled her into a tight hug.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Savannah immediately gushed, squeezing Mrs. Farris tight.
“Shh.” Mrs. Farris rocked her daughter back and forth. “Everything’s fine now. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Mr. Farris paused next to Braxton and glanced at him, worry evident from every tense muscle on his face. “You okay?”
Braxton jammed his hands into his pockets and nodded. “Yeah,” he answered, watching his mother and sister hug. “Fine.”
Nodding, Spencer went toward the women.
“Hey, now,” he warned as he neared them. “Don’t go getting all mushy. You’ll make Vannah start crying, and it looks like she just got over a spell.”
As Mr. and Mrs. Farris coddled their daughter, Braxton moved next to Lenna. She glanced at him.
His eyes looked concerned, as if he could read her thoughts. When he took her hand, she eagerly latched onto his supportive fingers.
“Okay, you’ve had enough time with her. It’s my turn for a hug,” Spencer said.
His wife rolled her eyes, but let go of Savannah with a slight laugh. She turned toward Braxton and murmured his name.
“Thank you,” she mouthed and drew close to hug him. When she pulled back, she finally noticed Lenna. “Oh! Oh, my. We’re interrupting.”
Lenna started to shake her head, but Braxton’s mother stuck out her hand. “Hello, I’m Raven.”
Lenna swallowed, but took her hand.
“Mom,” Braxton said, sticking protectively close. “This is Lenna. Lenna, this is...my family. All we’re missing is my brother, Ty. But you’ve met him.”
Lenna smiled at his mother once again before glancing toward her father’s old boss. She sweated, just knowing he was going to recognize her from back when he used to let her sit at his desk years ago and play office. He’d always sneak her a couple of quarters so she could to go down the hall and buy a snack from the vending machines, too.
But Spencer Farris barely glanced her way. “It’s nice to meet you,” he murmured and sent her a kind smile. He was too preoccupied with his daughter to give her much notice.
“Well, we’ll leave you two alone,” Raven Farris announced and promptly ushered Savannah and Spencer toward the exit. Throwing a knowing look at Lenna’s wrinkled blouse and skirt, she added, “I’m sure we’ve already ruined enough of your morning.”
Braxton followed his family to the exit. He smiled and shook his head as they walked out, discussing who was going to drive what automobile home. When he shut the door, he kept his hand on the knob for about ten seconds. Finally, he turned and met Lenna’s gaze.
For some reason, she knew he needed her. A strange, needy look marred his face, like he was completely lost. She stepped forward to go to him.
But as soon as she moved, he shocked the snot shaking his head and burying his face in his hands.
“Shit,” he muttered as strangled sobs seized him.
“Braxton?” She gasped and ran the last few steps, wrapping him in her arms.
He clutched at her hair and buried his face against her neck. “I’m s-sorry.” He trembled as he blubbered. “I can’t...I can’t—”
“Then don’t,” she instructed softly and rocked him soothingly, much the same way she’d watched his mother cradle his sister. She ran her hand over his hair and held him while he mourned.
CHAPTER 11
As Braxton calmed, he realized two things.
He’d bawled like a baby all over Lenna. And she’d met his family.
At some point, she’d led him to the couch and had him lay his head on her lap where she stroked his hair and let him grieve to his heart’s content.
But when the realization of what had happened struck him, he bolted upright.
“My parents. They just saw—”
“It’s okay,” she reassured, smiling gently as she smoothed his plastered hair off his forehead.
“Your dad didn’t recognize me. I think I was ten or eleven the last time I stopped going to work with Dad because my brother and sister started begging to come too. So...”
“He was probably too worried about Savannah to recognize your name either,” Braxton agreed. He squeezed her fingers. “Don’t worry. If any of them ask about you, I’ll tell them you’re one of Greg’s exes. My friend is always breaking up with these women, and they keep coming to me as if I can explain what they did wrong to make him not want them anymore.” He shrugged. “It’s a pretty common occurrence, and my family knows all about it. I’m sure I can get them to buy that story if they grow suspicious.”
But Lenna didn’t look so certain. “Your sister saw me in your bed.”
Braxton’s face fell. “Don’t worry about that. She doesn’t remember it.”
That fact defeated him. Sensing his pain, she touched his face. He closed his eyes and sank closer. “I’m sorry about what happened to her.”
He couldn’t speak for a minute. Then he said, “I feel so powerless around her. I know she can’t help what’s happening, but I get so frustrated. I can’t stand her alter ego and only snap when she’s Clara. Then she turns back in Vannah, and I feel guilty for losing my patience. What’s worse, when othe
r people find out what’s wrong, they look at her like she’s some kind of freak. I want to protect her, but I don’t know how.”
He glanced warily at Lenna. “She’s not violent. Throwing those keys at us, that’s as mad as I’ve ever seen her. She’s not...She’s not crazy.”
Lenna nodded like she understood. But he knew she didn’t. She couldn’t. He didn’t even understand it himself.
“People with dissociative identity disorder get such a bad rap,” he muttered. “After all those horror movies about split personalities, they think she must be part serial killer or something. But she’s not. She’d never intentionally hurt a fly.”
Nodding again, Lenna smoothed her fingers over his hair again. “From reading Sybil in school, I always thought people grew a split personality from having a really bad childhood.”
“Yeah, that’s typically the case,” Braxton admitted. He’d learned more about the subject in the past nine months than he'd ever wanted to. “But really, no one knows the actual cause. Any kind of devastating stress can start it.”
“And yet she got it from a physical injury,” Lenna murmured, her eyebrows puckering thoughtfully. “Was it blunt trauma to the head?”
Braxton lifted his face and sent her a guilty look. “Not exactly.” He winced. “I mean, I’m sure that part didn’t help, but...” When he received a confused scowl for his confession, he sighed and closed his eyes. “When she was in the accident, Vannah didn’t immediately fall into a coma upon impact.”
Lenna frowned. “Then—”
“The wreck was her fault. She was talking on her cell phone and ran a red light. Five cars were involved. Four people needed hospitalization and three died. One guy had both his legs amputated. He’ll never walk again.”
Lenna gasped and covered her mouth with both hands.
Braxton nodded. “She says she doesn’t remember the accident, and no one’s told her how it started. But she has to know. Somewhere in there, she knows. Neither of her identities will touch a cell phone to this day.”
“Poor Vannah,” Lenna murmured.