All Falls Down (7 page)

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.

Licking 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.

Within moments, her laughter fades, replaced by the symphony of nature song: the high pitched chirp of crickets, the lower croak of frogs, and the rush and rustle of wind through tree branches. It's soothing.

The chains on the swing creak as Kit begins to rock us back and forth.

I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my chin atop my knees, waiting for her to speak.

She stares out into the yard, her eyes narrowed.

"
Can I ask you something?" she finally says, taking a similar position to mine: lean arms wrapped around long, shapely legs, her cheek resting atop her knees.

"
You know you can," I tell her.

"
How do you know what you want to do after all of this is over?" Frustration sweeps through her expression, her blue eyes full of uncertainty. "I mean, I don't know, Savannah. I'm not sure I'm ready to grow up."

"
You'll do great," I say, and I mean it. Katrina's a ray of sunshine: bright, shining, brilliant. Everyone loves her. Whatever she does with her life, she'll be great at it. I'm sure of it. "Besides," I remind her, "you don't have to decide now. We don't graduate for another three months."

"
I know," she sighs, giving her head a rueful shake. "It's just–"

"
Just what?"

"
You have it all figured out already," she blurts. "You're smart and funny and you have these great grades, and a scholarship to study in England."

"
Oh, Kit," I can't help but laugh at her assessment. It's so far off base. "I have no clue what I'm going to do with my life. I have no plan. I'm just… here." My smile slips when the words leave my mouth because they are all too true. I'm just here.

"Savannah?"

I jerk when Jared says my name, pulling me back into the here and now.

"I'm sorry." My face burns again.

He motions toward the swing. "You should sit," he says softly.

"I'm fine."

He sighs and closes his eyes. "Am I truly that frightening?"

"What? I–no…" I'm taken off guard by his question and don't know what to say. I don't think he'd appreciate the truth if I gave it to him.

He sighs again, shaking his head. Water droplets run down his face and he brushes them impatiently away. "I've been an ass."

I want to tell him that it's okay, that I understand, but I don't want to lie to him. I don't understand why he's always so angry with me. Does he not want me here? Did I do something wrong? Does he think I'm going to inconvenience him or expect something from the girls?

"I'm sorry," I say instead of asking those questions.

"Stop doing that." He narrows those jade eyes at me.

I blink at the ire in his tone. What have I done wrong now?

"Doing what?" I ask.

"Apologizing. You're always apologizing to me."

"I'm–" I bite my tongue before the instinctive
sorry
rolls from my lips.

He stares at me for a moment and it's awkward. The urge to apologize for upsetting him is so strong, I have to bite down on the inside of my cheek to hold the words back. I turn away and look back out into the night, trying to quell the desire. The rain has slackened, but lightning still breaks the sky wide open at regular intervals.

The chains of the swing continue to creak as Jared moves back and forth.

Neither of us says anything for a long time.

Eventually the awkwardness leeches away and it's just quiet. Companionable silence. I think I like it.

"Lexi tells me you're staying," Jared says then.

"I think so," I whisper. My voice is so faint it barely carries. "I'm not sure."

He's quiet for a moment and then, "Matthew wanted you here, Savannah."

"I have a home here," I say this out loud, needing to hear it. The words sound so strange, as if they couldn't possibly be true. And yet…they are.

I don't understand.

"You do," Jared whispers. "Welcome home."

Warmth shoots through me when the words leave his lips, and I think maybe that has more to do with who said it than what he said.

Maybe he wants me here, after all.

Jared….

"You don't scare me," I say. I'm not sure it's true, but I want it to be.

"No?"

I shake my head.

"That's good. That's really good." He sounds pleased.

I smile at him.

He returns it, and that warmth spreads a little further.

We say nothing else until he rises to head back to the mansion.

"Goodnight, Savannah." He seems calmer, less conflicted.

"Goodnight, Jared."

He smiles at me again before making his way down the stairs.

The next two days are quiet. The near constant parade of mourners has dwindled, the girls keep themselves locked in their rooms, and I'm left largely on my own. It's surprising to find that I don't mind this, but I don't. I'm still trying to process everything, but the silence is less overwhelming.

Nights are the hardest, and I ache to sit on the porch and listen to the wind, but I've forced myself to stay inside. I'm not sure why. I think maybe I'm afraid Jared will once again become the cold, confusing man he was before. I've barely seen him in the past two days, but he's been friendly the few times our paths have crossed. The thought of him returning to his former self makes me ache. And I'm sure it's coming sooner or later.

Eventually, I'll screw up again, anger him. Every part of me shies away from that.

Worse, guilt pricks at me almost constantly.

Jared manages to invade my thoughts often, but I can't seem to stop it. I know he's with Lexi, but when his mouth quirks up into a crooked smile when our paths cross, my stomach flutters anyway. I try to convince myself that I'm merely reacting like any other woman would if faced with that killer smile, but part of me doesn't believe it.

And that, I think, is the biggest reason I've forced myself to stay indoors. I don't like feeling as if I've done something wrong when I haven't.

"
Where the hell is my coat?" Toby demands, stalking out of the bedroom, his jaw clenched. A muscle in his cheek pulses.

"I sent it to be cleaned." My words are barely a whisper.

"
Why the fuck did you do that?" He crosses his arms and glares at me.

I want to sink through the floor and disappear beneath the weight of that look – as if I've committed some monstrous fault. All I wanted to do was help.

"
Did I ask you to send it to be cleaned?" he demands when I say nothing.

I barely shake my head "no".

"
Did you ask if I wanted it cleaned?"

Again I shake my head "no".

"
Was there any fucking mention of it being sent for cleaning?" His dark eyes flash.

"
No," I whisper, hanging my head. I've set him off again. I can do nothing to please him anymore.

It's so frustrating.

"
Then it shouldn't fucking be there!" he yells.