Playing in Shadow (2 page)

“You don’t look like you’re getting much rest. Are you even sleeping, Bryce?”

Bryce shrugged, grimacing at the pain that ran through her body at such a simple gesture. She felt nauseous and had to close her eyes against the bright white flashes of light that made her head ache and her stomach roll more. Gasping for breath, teeth clenched against the pain, Bryce managed to answer. “I’m sleeping more than I was after the accident.”

“How about I up your dosage of sleeping pills to help you with that?”

“Sure. Whatever,” Bryce said. She knew full well that no matter what the dosage, she wouldn’t be taking the medication any time soon. All for fear of what their inducing slumber might cause her to dream. She would rather be awake and facing the demons than fighting them off under the influence of drugs. She had spent days in the hospital while they had ascertained that her head injury and the nightmares she’d experienced under medication had left her terrified to sleep.

No more drugs and no closing my eyes to the dark.

“I can’t see why you can’t go back to work,” Dr. Hudson said.

Bryce slipped off the bed and began buttoning up her shirt from her examination.

Dr. Hudson forestalled her with a hand. “But light work only until you get your full strength back. You went through hell, Bryce. You need to recover.”

“I will,” Bryce told her, tucking her shirt into her jeans and carefully easing into her jacket. “Will you sign me off now so I can go see my boss to make sure I still have a job to return to?”

Dr. Hudson made a tutting noise at her. “I hope your boss appreciates how eager you are to get back to work against
my
recommendation.”

“I appreciate the fact that he’s kept my job open for me and hasn’t replaced me while I’ve been laid up in here or at home twiddling my thumbs.”

The doctor signed off on the recovery forms, then hesitated in handing them over to Bryce. “You’d better not stop seeing your physical therapist.”

“I won’t. He’s helping me, so I’m not going to quit until my shoulder is back to full mobility.”

“If your headaches get any worse, you come back and see me immediately, okay?”

Bryce nodded. “I will.”

She had no intention of stepping a foot back in the hospital. She’d spent more than enough time there and had hated every minute of being poked, prodded, and sympathized with. A hand on her arm stopped Bryce in her tracks and brought her out of her reverie.

“Bryce, I don’t need to tell you that you were incredibly lucky to survive. But you’re not one hundred percent yet, and you have to heal mentally as well as physically. You need to be careful not to undo the healing you’ve already done.”

“I’ll take it steady,” Bryce said, wincing as her ribs pulled and ached. “I don’t have much choice in the matter.” She accepted the paperwork and tried not to be too obvious in making a hasty exit.

“Feel better,” Dr. Hudson said. “And take it easy.”

“I just want my life to get back to normal, and these frequent hospital trips aren’t helping me do that. It’s nothing personal, Dr. Hudson. I’ve had great treatment here, but I’d rather get back to my life and put this all behind me.” Bryce shook the doctor’s hand. “Thanks for everything.” She ducked her head at the doctor’s compassionate stare and slipped out of the room as quickly as her injuries would allow.

She closed the door behind her and paused to find her bearings. A woman rushing down the corridor brushed past Bryce a little too closely and caught her side. Pain lanced through her, and she sagged against the wall for support. Bryce breathed in harshly as she tried to control the pain. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her rebellious stomach pitched. Bryce spotted a sign for the restroom and made her way toward it as quickly as possible, barely making it inside before she threw up in the sink. Every heave of her stomach pulled at her damaged ribs and made her head pound. Finally, with nothing left in her stomach to throw up, Bryce clung to the sink and willed the shudders to cease. Her legs felt like rubber as she ran water into the sink to clean it and then took a handful to swill out her mouth.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were drawn instantly to the scar cutting through her brow. Her hair was missing a patch at the front where the hair had been shaved off to remove the glass and debris that had sliced into her forehead. The rest of her hair wasn’t much longer, but the bare patch made her feel exposed. Her eyes looked bloodshot. Bryce was no longer surprised by the pale face she saw, marred by shadows under her eyes. She tried to conjure up a smile, but it didn’t look convincing. She looked older than her thirty-one years.

“Still as handsome as ever,” she muttered and roughly took a cap out of her pocket and pulled it on. She slanted it to cover the left side of her face. She’d been told the damage there would fade in time to leave a white ragged scar, but Bryce didn’t like the looks it generated from well-meaning people. She needed nobody’s sympathy.

Her legs finally steady, Bryce left the bathroom to carefully walk out of the hospital without anyone else knocking her down. Once outside, she breathed in the fresh air and squinted up at the sky.

Back to normality, she thought despairingly.

Like I’ll ever know normal again
.

*

“Dad, you really didn’t have to drive me to the job today. I could have driven myself there.” Scarlet Tweedy regarded her father fondly. Victor Tweedy just grinned at her then returned his eyes to the road.

“I was in the neighborhood,” he replied.

Scarlet laughed. “No, you weren’t. You’ve just driven miles out of your way to come pick me up.”

“I just wanted to see you, to spend some quality time with my daughter before you start working for that slave driver boss of yours.” His eyes held a twinkle that just made Scarlet chuckle even more.

“Really? I’ve heard tell that my boss is a real teddy bear at heart.”

“Don’t you believe it. State your source.”

Scarlet smirked. “Grandma.”

Laughing, he shook his head. “You can’t believe a word that comes out of that crazy old lady’s mouth.”

“That old lady gave you a perfect landscaping duo that you have been raving about since you joined forces, so she can’t be all that crazy.”

He pondered this a moment then nodded. “True, she always says that things happen for a reason, and look what happened. Her neighbor finally gets that wreck of a yard cleared up, and I get my own team of professional landscapers from it. Then you came from Illinois, finally back home to Columbia, and got to move straight in with one of them.”

Scarlet settled back in her seat and enjoyed the heat from the sun bathing her through the windshield. “I can’t believe my luck on that. Monica is a great roommate, and she hadn’t shared with anyone for ages after Juliet moved out. It was fated.”

“And you’re perfectly suited. You both…
dress
alike.”

Scarlet shook her head at her dad’s hesitancy. “Dad, I’ll never understand how you can find my being gay so easy to live with but you’re frightened to use the
Goth
word.”

Her father shifted in the driver’s seat. “I just don’t want you getting hurt because of how you dress. It’s bad enough worrying about someone hurting you because you’re gay.” He let out a big sigh. “I’ll never understand why someone would chase you down because you just happen to wear black. I’ve read about it happening.”

“It’s a crazy world, Dad.” Scarlet looked down at herself and tugged at a loose thread on her T-shirt. “I do, however, dress down for work so you should be able to worry less. I haven’t been chased for years. At least”—she shot her father a cheeky grin—“not in the way you worry about!”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s my girl.” He glanced over at her T-shirt. “What’s Epica?”

“One of the bands I listen to.”

“Would your mother have liked them, do you think?”

Scarlet hesitated and thought back to the woman she’d known for so few years. She and her father still mourned her loss keenly. “I think she’d have found the lead singer striking. She has Mom’s vibrant shade of red hair.”

He reached over and stroked her red locks. “You follow your mother for her beauty, my girl.”

Scarlet smiled at the compliment. “That’s just as well, Dad, because you’re starting to go bald, and I really don’t need to inherit that trait from you.”

His laughter made Scarlet smile. She was so glad she could make her father happy when they both still felt the sorrow at her mother’s death. Scarlet had barely been ten years old, the time when a girl needs her mother to walk her through the pitfalls of puberty. Scarlet eyed her father fondly. They hadn’t done too badly just the two of them. She decided to lighten the mood.

“So, have you got all my paint ready? Picked up the rollers and brushes I asked for? Got me my own stepladder so I can reach the ceilings just right?”

“I got everything like you requested. I know all too well how an artist likes her own tools.”

“I’m a painter and decorator. The only artistry I perform there is to wipe up the spills off the ceiling molding.”

“And yet your grandma was adamant you’d turn your talents to watercolors and not drip dry gloss and emulsions. Maybe she’s not so crazy after all. She keeps telling me she wants to invest in your oil paintings. She’s certain that’s where your future lies.”

Scarlet remembered telling her grandma what she wanted to be when she grew up. The arguments of “but you’re a girl” had fallen on deaf ears. Her dedication to decorating had soon brought her grandma around to see her commitment and drive. Scarlet’s need to please her father had been a major deciding factor in her choice. As she’d grown up she’d developed her own skills and dreams that took her away from her father’s side. The fact that Scarlet had found a talent for using her painting to do portraits seemed to appease her grandma’s sensibilities. “If painting and decorating was a good enough start for my father, then it’s a good enough profession for me to fall back on,” Scarlet told him as she scrutinized the houses she was going to be working on as her father pulled into the large driveway.

“It’s what I get for taking you with me on jobs when you were a child.” He stopped the car. “I swear you had a paintbrush in your hand before you’d finished learning how to spell your name.”

“I learned at the knees of the master.” Scarlet unfastened her seat belt and leaned over to kiss her father on his cheek.

“God, it seems like only yesterday you were that small and look at you now. Twenty-eight years old. Where did all those years go?” He cupped her cheek in his hand. “You make me so very proud.”

“I love you too, Dad. Now, I need to get started before the boss catches me outside chatting.”

“He’d be lenient on you. It’s your first day after all.”

“Maybe I can catch him later, ask him about the possibilities of a raise.” She flashed her father a smile. She got a wagging finger back.

“Your first day on the job and already you’re pushing your luck. Go paint. I’ll come by later and bring you some lunch.”

“Daaaad!” Scarlet whined.

“What? I didn’t say I’d be paying for it, did I? You can treat your old man. He’ll appreciate it after you being away from home for so long.”

“I had to be sure I could make my own way in the world before I could come back home.” Scarlet caught sight of her father’s work crew as they all filtered in. “Gregor is still here, I see. He’s as old as you are. Hasn’t he retired yet?”

He made a rude noise in her direction. “He’s the best plumber in the business. And he’s known you since you were a child so you won’t get away with anything with him either.”

Scarlet got out of the car, waiting for her father to do the same. “When do I get to see your landscaping start? Monica said she wouldn’t see me today.”

“Should be tomorrow. I’m getting the skips removed so they’ll have no trouble getting in and out in the yard. Bryce might be back soon too, all being well.”

Scarlet caught the hopeful tone in her father’s voice. “Is she well enough to come back to work? You said the crash she was in was a bad one.”

“It was a miracle she got out alive.” He ran a hand through his thinning gray hair and grimaced at her. “That first time I saw her in the hospital, I thought she’d never recover. But she’s a fighter and her survival was no mistake. She’s at the hospital this morning for her last checkup to get the all clear. Said she’d pop in later to see me so we can start her back on the job as soon as she’s able.”

“What’s she like, Dad?” Scarlet was curious about the only woman who worked for her father’s business.

“She’s hard working, excellent at what she does, a true craftsman.” He winked at her. “Or crafts-
woman
if you prefer.”

“Dad, I don’t mean work-wise. I meant
her
. I’m well aware how good her work is since you’ve been praising her skills since day one. And you haven’t stopped grumbling about the work the temporary plasterer has been doing while she’s been off.”

“You know I’m no good at describing folk. You’ll just have to form an opinion of her yourself when you see her.”

Scarlet saw Gregor spot her and start heading in her direction with astonishing speed for such a big man. “I think my welcoming committee is here.” She just managed to squeak out her comment as she was gathered up in a big hug and swung around like she weighed nothing. “Gregor! I’m not a little girl anymore. You can’t swing me around like this and not put your back out!”

“Little Scarlet Tweedy. Your dad said you were finally taking your rightful place in his business. It’s so good to have you home.” Gregor Reeves finally put her down and looked her up and down. “You look gorgeous, lass. Just like your mother. God rest her soul.”

“Thank you, Gregor.” Scarlet brushed a kiss over his bristly cheek. “It’s good to be home. I missed you all.”

“You done working for everyone else now? Are you going to settle down and start learning your father’s business?” Gregor asked, familiarity allowing him his brusqueness.

“I just might be staying a while to help out,” she said. “However, I’m still doing my photography apprenticeship on the weekends. I enjoy taking photos too much to ditch that job. And thankfully, the studio I work with had a part-time opening for me that fits around me being here.”