Текст книги "Born Savages"

Автор книги: Cora Brent

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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

REN

Cate Camp bangs on the front door at the crack of dawn.  Since I haven’t slept much the past several days I’m awake enough to fling the door open before she manages to disturb the whole house.

“Loren.” She slides right past me without being invited inside.  There are no crew members straggling behind her so she must have driven out here from Consequences alone.  She paces the front room with her teeth sucking loudly on her bottom lip and I get the feeling she’s high on something.

“Come on in,” I say with a dash of irritability.  Cate Camp annoys the crap out of me.  She has been in what I would politely call ‘a state’ ever since she heard that Oscar took off.  Apparently Gary Vogel is displeased with the turn of events and holds her at least partially responsible.  I can’t really muster much sympathy for her career though when my heart is in shreds.

Cate stops pacing and fumbles through her vagina-sized designer wristlet.  She withdraws a black e-cig and starts vaping with a vengeance.  She looks me over and I think I detect a slight frown of disapproval, although with all the collagen she’s pumped into her lips it’s tough to tell.  At any rate I haven’t showered yet today and I’m probably not looking very fetching.

I plunk back down on the leather sofa where I’ve been reading for hours from one of August’s dusty old books, Volcanic Formations of the American Southwest.   It’s captivating stuff.  Either I’ll end up suddenly yearning for a career in geology or I’ll fall asleep.  Win win.

Cate Camp vapes and fidgets and stares out the window with her e-cig pinched between two manicured fingers.

“Today will be the day,” she says fearfully.  “He’s coming today.”

“Who? The anti-Christ? Pardon me while I get dressed then.”

She ignores my sarcasm.  “Gary only travels out for filming if there is a huge setback.   Once the pieces are in place he expects that everything will proceed smoothly.”

I stare down at black and white photos of Sunset Crater.  “That’s interesting.  Is everything not proceeding smoothly?”

Cate Camp shoots me a dirty look.  “Your cousin or whatever the hell he is really fucked things up.  I always thought he was a wild card.  But Gary figured having him here would be useful for dramatic effect.”

Slowly I turn a page.  “Gary was right.  It was dramatic.”

“What happened out there, Loren?  Oz was insufferable about following instructions from the beginning but you had been fairly cooperative.  I’m not oblivious.  I know you’re here reluctantly but you need to remember you have a job to do.”

Slowly I raise my head and look her in the eye.  “It’s not a job to do.  It’s a life to live.”

She merely shrugs.  “Not right now it isn’t.  You have a contractual obligation so spare me the self-righteous talk.” Cate Camp primly returns her e-cig to her vagina purse and gives me a rubbery smile. “And I’ll have you know that we have enough footage to show there was something going on between the two of you.  Looks like it was shaping up into a hell of a story considering your past together.  But this leaves me with a problem.   A story is nothing to an audience without an ending.”

“Oh.  Would you like an ending?”

She practically leaps across the room.  “Yes, I would like an ending!”

“Okay.  It’s not very exciting though.  We argued about whose turn it was to feed the chickens and he, Oz that is, said he was tired of feeding chickens and he was going to return to life as a reclusive mountaineer.”

Cate Camp is angry.  I can tell because the bulbous collagen flaps on her face are quivering.  “That is not what happened.”

Is it sick that I find her distress amusing?  I bat my eyelashes innocently.  “Really?  Funny, that’s how I remember it. I can go in the Blue Room and discuss it in detail for the sake of posterity.”

A sound erupts from her throat.  It sounds like a snarl.  “Gary will have something to say about this.  You can be sure of it.  And if you think you’re saving face here you’re wrong.  We are obliged to edit the content however we please.”

I close the book, feeling oddly detached.  Perhaps I’ve sobbed out all my emotions already.  I press my thumbs against my temples to relieve the building pressure.  “Just go away, Cate. If you want a different ending then make one up.  Oz is gone.  He’s not coming back.  You’ll have to live with it.”

As will I. 

She hisses like a reptile and stalks to the door.  Before she gets there she tosses off a few words that she probably thinks are insulting.  “Go hose yourself off.  You look fucking homeless.”

The door slams.  I close my eyes and concentrate on pressure points to alleviate the looming migraine.  I should go to my room and dig out some of my essential oils.  When I open my eyes again my nephew is standing in the hallway with a drooping diaper and a stuffed monkey.

“Hey, sweetheart.”  I smile and open my arms.  The best thing to come out of these last few weeks has been the opportunity to spend time with him.

Alden gives me a crooked grin and scampers into my arms.  I gather up his warm little body and ask him if he’s hungry.  He nods eagerly and twists my hair around his fingers.

By the time I get the kid changed and settled down with a bowl of oatmeal, I glance at the clock and realize it’s nearly time for the crew to show up for the day.  Spencer is the only one who sleeps less than I do.  He was out and about before the sun even waved hello this morning.  The crew knows by now that bothering Monty before noon is not a good idea.  They are likely to merely lurk around the house for a while, filming Ava and Brigitte drinking coffee and arguing about petty everyday things.

  My sisters have been cutting a wide path around me and for that I’m grateful.  These days I sometimes feel like I’m barely hanging on.  That shouldn’t be.  I’ve lived without Oscar for a long time and of course I can live without him again.

But something happened to me during those brief, burning moments in the desert a few nights ago.  I let myself go, not caring how far we were taking it, not listening to the pitiful begging that came out of my own mouth.

Oscar had me figured out all right.  He knew I was trying to scrub him out for good.  Out of my mind, out of my heart. I wanted him to take it all out on me; the hostility, the bitterness, everything he must have been harboring for the past five years.  I wanted him to make me forget the heartbreak of losing him.  I warned him he needed to make it hurt.

And he did.  My god, he did.  Far more agonizing than any physical pain is the agony of the heart.

“Morning.”  Ava pads into the kitchen, all sleepy-eyed and beautiful with her hair flowing over her shoulders and a simple blue dress hugging her curves.  Alden lights up and runs to her.  She settles him on her hip and pats his back. “What are you doing up so early, baby?”

“He’s been keeping his old aunt company.”

Ava scrutinizes me.  I know she’s worried.  She saw me at my worst once, five years ago.  She saw me cry so hard I couldn’t breathe.  She doesn’t want to see me like that again.   “So what’s going on today, Ren?”

“I don’t know.  I think I’ll do some laundry.  That would probably make a captivating episode.  Oh, and Cate Camp stopped by.  She says Gary might show up.”

“Gary Vogel?”

“I think he’s the only Gary left in this century.”

She gives a short laugh and swings Alden down to the floor.  “Did she say what he wanted?”

“I think he wants to yell at me for not inviting the cameras to observe my wild sexual exploits.”

Ava’s eyebrows shoot skyward.  I hadn’t said it out loud yet.  Of course anyone with half a brain would have figured it out the night he disappeared and I wandered home looking fairly used and disheveled.  But I hadn’t admitted it.  I guess it’s time to admit it.

“I wish…” I whisper but I can’t seem to finish the sentence.   There’s that good old thick knot in my chest again.  It has Oscar’s name on it.  I was an idiot to think I could just fuck it away.

My elbows are up on the table now and my head is down, my fingers laced behind my neck.  Those two words keep bouncing around the room.

I wish.

I wish.

I wish.

I’m drowning in wishes.  Things I wish I hadn’t said.  Things I wish I hadn’t done.  Things I wish I had said.  Courage I wish I could have found.   Years I wish I hadn’t lost.

Soft arms surround me.  My sister presses her head against mine.

“I know,” she whispers back.

I stay inside that comfortable hug for a full minute, holding on to my little sister and trying not to leak snot on her shoulder.   When that’s over I pat Alden’s head and start down the hall, figuring I ought to make an effort to look slightly better than ‘fucking homeless’.

But before I get to the shower I take a detour.  I’ve been avoiding the Blue Room since my first week here, spending less than five minutes on my required self-interviews.  Typically I gloss over anything that might be important and instead summarize events like the cleaning of the chicken coop or the loading of the dishwasher.  Whenever Cate Camp pulls me aside for an entreaty to ‘dig a little deeper’ I just pretend like I don’t hear her.

Since almost everything I’ve been doing since I got here just isn’t working I make up my mind to try something else.  Determinately I wind my long hair into a knot and push a few stray strands behind my ears.  I’m wearing a ratty old gym ensemble, I slept very little last night, and I haven’t even washed my face.  In other words, I’m not classic camera material.  But that will have to be okay.

I flip the camera on and settle into the papasan chair.  This time, when I look straight at the lens it isn’t intimidating.  There’s nothing to be afraid of here.

This is me.  The real me.

I clear my throat.

“Hello. I haven’t really let you meet me yet.  I’m Loren Elizabeth Savage.  Yes, of the famed movie star Savages.  You probably know about my family.  And you may have heard a few things about the rest of us.  Some of them might even be true.  But there’s still so much you don’t know.  No matter how many cameras there are in the world there will always be a lot you can’t see.  I was in love once.  Really and truly in love.  Like what you see in the movies.  Like what you read about in stories.  It was as incredible as it was heartbreaking.  I hope you’ll stick around and listen for a little while.  Because I really want to tell you about it…”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

OZ

It wouldn’t make any sense for Atlantis Star to have changed in the last three days when it probably hasn’t changed much in decades.  But when I blow through Consequences and make the turn off down the dirt road that leads to the old movie ranch it looks different to me. Smaller somehow.

The crew’s truck is parked where it always is when they’re around, in the shade of an old mesquite tree about thirty yards off from the house.  The leader, an amiable type of guy who goes by the unfortunate name of Rash, is tinkering with some equipment in the yard.  He looks up at the sound of my truck and offers a wave.

I don’t bother being discreet about my arrival.  I roll right up to the doorstep of the big house.  Rash has his camera on his shoulder and he’s filming me now but that’s fine.  I’m beyond caring who might be watching what at this point.

Before I get my hand on the doorknob I see Monty Savage coming from the direction of the barn.  He’s got his shirt off, like he usually does, as if his thick chest is allergic to fabric or needs chronic admiration to remain solid.  He stops cold when he sees me and I brace for some noise but he just lowers his head and keeps walking.

Since the front door is unlocked I stroll right on through it.  A small blond tornado whips past my legs.  Ava’s boy, Alden.  He’s laughing as only kids know how to laugh.

Ava is laughing herself as she follows the kid.  Her laughter dies abruptly when she sees me.  She puts her hands on her hips and cocks her head, looking none too friendly.

I close the door behind me.  There’s no one else in sight.   “Is she here?”

Ava looks me up and down.  Of course I don’t know what’s gone on here in the last few days but judging from Ava’s expression it’s nothing good.  I remember the deathly silence between Ren and I after we finished fucking our brains out.  I remember the almost desperate look she gave me before opening the door to the truck and trudging back to the house.  But at the time I thought it would be better if we just left things unsaid.  I was too wrapped up in my own feelings to notice her pain.

From the look on Ava’s face though, she understands her sister’s pain all too well.  And she’s decided who is responsible.

“Ava?” I prompt gently.

“She’s here,” Ren’s sister says.  Her kid tears back into the room and crashes into her legs.  She hoists him to her hip and jerks her head toward the hall.  “Last bedroom at the end.  Knock first, Oz. And if she tells you to leave then you should.”

“Fair enough.  I will.”

Alden claps his hands together a few times and I give him a little wink.   I just lied to his mother but that will come out soon enough.  Today, I have no intention of leaving even if Ren throws a frying pan at my head.

One of the lesser Camera Creeps tails me as I head down the hall.  Just before I turn a corner I see Brigitte lurking in the small piano alcove.  She notices me but says nothing and doesn’t move.  Usually she tries to insert herself in the middle of whatever might give her camera time so it’s a little out of character for her to stand down but I’ll take it.

When I get to Ren’s door I almost just barge through it but decide to scrape together a few manners.   I rap my knuckles on the wood five times and wait.

Ren’s sigh reaches me from the other side of the door.  She was probably enjoying some mid morning solitude away from the cameras.

My entire body freezes when the door creaks open.  Christ, I’m nervous, more than I was that first day I drove up here, weeks ago.  Because back then I put on an armor of arrogant attitude.  Now I’m going to face her with honesty.  It’s tougher than it sounds.

“Hi,” I manage to say, noting the way her eyes widen.  I can’t read whether the look on her face is anything other than shock.   Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes are slightly red.  She’s cried recently.  Her dark hair hangs down straight and appears damp, fresh from a shower.  She’s barefoot, wearing a plain black cotton dress with thin straps that falls to her knees and doesn’t have a speck of makeup on.  She’s so blindingly beautiful I can’t stand it.

Ren recovers from her shock and crosses her arms over her chest.  “You’re back.”

“I’m back.”

“For how long?”

“Depends on you.”

She cocks her head to the side, her soft lips slightly parted.  “I don’t understand.”

I have to touch her.  I act like I’m trying to push a piece of nonexistent hair out of her face.  She doesn’t shrink away when my fingers brush her cheek.  But the shiver that rolls through her is involuntary.  The idea that her tears were probably caused by me twists my gut into knots.  If that’s the case then I have a new goal.  I’m never ever going to be the cause of her tears again.

My hand falls back to my side.  I want to grab her, hold her, but I can’t.  We can’t just pretend that all the agony, both fresh and old, never happened.  If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to do it the hard way. “Ren, can I come in?  Or can you come out?”

Her eyes shift to the camera.  I can tell she’s wondering what the hell I’m up to.  I hope she gives me the benefit of the doubt, whether I deserve it or not.

“Give me two minutes,” she says.  “I’ll meet you out front.”

“Take your time.  I’ll wait.”

She still looks puzzled.  After all, the tone of this short encounter is rather subdued compared to the last one, when I warned her that when I was done getting my fill she’d be nothing more to me than another empty pussy.  It doesn’t matter if she’d ever said or done anything to justify it.  A bigger lie was never told.

The day is a rare one full of clouds.  I make my way outside and stand there in the yard beside the corner of the house where once upon a time I’d held her close a few moments after our first kiss.

When Ren comes outside she’s wearing a pair of brown leather cowboy boots and a wary expression.  The way she looks at me it’s like she’s expecting a slap.  Or worse.  She folds her arms in front of her chest in a defensive pose and keeps her eyes on the ground as she closes in.

“I love you and it doesn’t matter what time or anything else does to us.  Even if the worst happens and we’re ripped apart it will change nothing.  I’ll still love you, Oscar.” 

How is it possible we’ve come to this?  Two strangers fighting the saddest, most useless of wars.

I meet her halfway and there’s a highly awkward second where we face off and stare at each other.  Meanwhile, a sizeable lizard breaks out of some nearby sage and scurries through the space that separates us.  It’s strange.  Lizards don’t typically abandon their shelters to get closer to humans.  Somewhere I heard that lizards represent good omens.  I hope that’s true.

She breaks the silence.  “Before you say anything, I want you to know that I’m glad you came back.”

“Are you?”

Ren nods and inhales deeply, closing her eyes and then exhaling slowly.  She opens her eyes and looks at me clearly.  “Yes.  Oscar, I never told you that I was sorry.  I’m truly sorry for everything happened five years ago.  I’m sorry for turning my back on you.  I need you to know that I never believed anything Lita said.  That wasn’t it.  That wasn’t the reason at all.  I should have said so the day you came back here but I didn’t.”

The lizard has paused from his journey back to the brush.  He jerks his head, watches us for a split second with tiny inscrutable eyes and then darts away with lightning speed.

I shove my hands in my pockets and get closer, nudging her shoulder.  “Let’s take a walk.”

She’s surprised but she nods and her body language relaxes as we stroll beyond the yard of the big house, past the brothel, close to the cemetery.   When we reach the far side of the wrought iron fence that surround the clump of fake headstones, I pause and give her a hard look.

“Ren, I know you never believed her.  I’m not an idiot.  I know that somebody probably threatened you with something and that’s why you felt like you had no choice.  That part’s done.  And we were kids.  I don’t blame you anymore for not knowing what the fuck to do.”

We’re standing close now, close enough for my body to start responding to her.  Jesus, I just can’t help it.  She smells like cherries and vanilla.  Plus she’s not wearing a bra.  I shift from my weight casually, trying to relieve the rising pressure in my pants.

Ren notices and a knowing smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.  It’s like we’re both hit with the same memory at the exact same second.  It seems like the moment just happened.

“Didn’t know the Savages were telepathic.” 

“We’re not.  You’re just transparent.” 

“What am I thinking about, Ren?”

Her smile fades.  She hugs her arms around herself and looks sadly at the corpse-free cemetery.   “It wasn’t so much their threat to me.  It was the threat to you.  Lita said she would sick the dogs of the press on both of us and there would be nowhere to hide from the scandal she would invent.  She also said she could make criminal charges stick because she’d somehow uncovered the fact that you were over eighteen.”

“I could have handled Lita.”  My voice is sharper than I meant it to be.

“Maybe,” she whispers.   Then she shakes her head miserably. “But maybe I couldn’t.  I guess that’s my biggest regret.  That I never had the strength of character to really say fuck you to Lita and to every ridiculous expectation attached to this last name.  Remember when you told me I’m just a shell of who I once was?”

“Ren, I didn’t mean-“

“Well, you were right.”  She nods and looks me in the eye.  “And you were wrong.  I’m not tough or courageous.  But then, I never was.”

The wind picks up.  A falcon flies right over our heads, its dark shadow briefly washing over us.  The cameras keep rolling.

“I’m not asking for your sympathy, Oscar.  And I don’t expect it.  Just know that you were once everything to me.  You were everything to me for a long time, far longer than I’ve ever been able to admit.”  She looks down and her voice drops to a whisper. “That’s all.”

“That’s all,” I echo.   She nods tiredly and starts to walk away.  I grab her arm and pull her back a little roughly.  “That’s not all, dammit.  I didn’t come back here for vindication.”

There’s a flash of something her dark eyes.  She looks down to where my hand is fastened to her arm.  Ren tilts her head up proudly and challenges me.  “Then why did you come back?”

I release her arm and stuff my hands back into my pockets where they can’t get into any more trouble.  “I came back because once I knew you, Loren Savage.  The two months I spent with you were the best ones of my life.  I could see clear into your heart and I loved you with all of mine.  I came back not because I want to fuck things up for you or because I want my day in the stupid spotlight.  I came back because I just want you in my life again.  However I can get you.”

She takes a step back and studies me.  I’ve surprised her.  We’ve surprised each other.  Maybe we’re not too far removed from the kids we were after all.

Ren presses her lips together and glances back at the house.  “You know,” she says.  “It’ll be lunch hour soon.  Spence is likely to be back anytime now from delivering a restored Thunderbird to the next county.  The girls and young Mr. Alden are always happy to see anything edible.  And even Monty sits down at a table now and again.”  She pauses, bites a corner of her lip and looks nearly bashful.  “I was thinking about making some barbecued chicken wings.”

“I’ll help you,” I tell her because it was my offer the last time we had this conversation.

The day we met.

She grins.  “You can cook?”

“No.  Teach me.”

“All right, Oz.  I will.”

On the short walk back to the big house I don’t even try to touch her.  For now it’s enough just to walk beside her.

For now.