Rage (22 page)

He peered at his watch. “I was wondering how long it

would be before you showed up.”

“Why can’t you ever keep your mouth shut?”

“Funny, I’m usually the one saying that to you.”

“You had no right!” Steph’s exasperation was crippling, and

she had to sit on the edge of the bed.

Cedric shrugged. “That’s true. And yet Phillip had
every

right to know.”

“What did you say to him exactly?” Steph asked as her

mind raced.

“I’m not giving you a blow by blow, so you can try to find

some way to spin this.” Cedric slung his bag over his shoulder.

“You have a lot of thinking to do, baby sister. And a
hell
of a lot of growing up to do.”

“Piss, off Cedric. Who died and made you judge and jury?”

The look on his face stopped her from saying another syllable.

He took a step toward her, and she withdrew a step on instinct.

His eyes were hard and unforgiving. ““If you could have

seen Phillip's face after you collapsed that day, you would have never let him go.”

He left without as much as a second glance in her direction.

As she watched him go, Steph collapsed back on the bed. He was

right, as always. She was responsible for it all. She fought back angry tears, and she argued with herself for ten minutes before

jumping back into the SUV and having Enrique drive her to the

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tiny island airport. When she spotted Cedric, she hurried over to him. His shoulders heaved with a silent sigh when he saw her

coming.

Tears sprung from her eyes, and she flung her arms around

him. For a moment, she felt like a fool as she clung to him like a bawling baby, but his cane-free arm soon came up around her,

and she knew they were okay. She pulled back, and he had al-

ready produced a handkerchief.

“Oh, Steffy. If you weren’t my only sister, I would have

shunned you long ago.” His droll tone had a teasing quality, and she knew he was trying to make her smile.

A short time later, she’d finally managed to collect herself.

They sat silently side by side, waiting for his plane to board.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m so sorry I put you in the mid-

dle of all my shit, as always.” She sighed.

“You know, I was thinking about all of this last night. Your

deception caused the fight between Phillip and Christopher, you

see that, right? Chris knew about the baby—you told
him
right away. He assumed Phillip knew as well. So when Phillip was

flippant about your feelings after that wretched video, it drove Christopher to violence.”

“Thanks a lot, bro. As if I don’t feel shitty enough.”

“Good. I hope you do feel shitty. You need to feel
some-

thing
, Steffy. You need to hear me for once.” He shook his head in exasperation. His expression turned somber, and he whirled to face her. Steph had little choice but to turn to face him out of respect.

“Do you want to know the last thing mom said to me?” His

eyes were moist, and Steph felt her pulse quicken. It had been

years since he’d tried to discuss their mother with her. Her mom had crossed her mind many times in the past year, and Steph was

nervous to hear what he had to say.

“No.” She admitted, suddenly very afraid.

“Take care of your sister for me.” He paused, as if unable to

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speak for a moment, and Steph covered her eyes with her hand,

feeling as if he’d kicked her in the stomach. She literally felt as if she’d taken a hit, and the wind had been knocked out of her. “All these years I’ve bent over backwards to do just that.”

“No. You ditched me to run off to seminary.” It was a des-

perate argument, and she knew it wasn’t fair as she spoke the

words.

He held up a hand to silence her. “But now you’re all grown

up. I love you, Stephanie. But it’s time to face your demons. And you have to do that all on your own.”

“Cedric…” Steph whispered, but they called for him to

board the plane, and he stood.

“Call me when you get back to Milan.” He instructed her

and left before she had a chance to reply.

On her way back from the airport, she remembered her

mother in vivid detail for the first time since her death. Her clas-sically beautiful baby face, so much like Steph’s, now that she’d reached womanhood. In truth, part of her thought about her mom

every time she looked in the mirror. Her scent as she read her

bedtime stories, her curly blonde hair always smelling like milk and honey. Her gentle demeanor that Cedric had obviously in-herited. Her mother had always cringed at Steph and Adam’s

constant bickering. Not long after Steph turned fourteen, she got herself kicked out of Catholic school. She’d been an angst-ridden teenager, and hormones made her already over-the-top temper

crescendo. As a result, she and her father’s screaming matches

were unrelenting and constant. This led her parents to bicker

with each other. After weeks of hushed arguments, Steph over-

heard her mother tell her father she was leaving. He begged her

not to go, but she insisted she had to because she couldn’t stand

“the ugliness of their household” any longer. Steph knew she’d

been the root cause of her abandoning them.

When they sat them down to tell them, Cedric begged his

mom to take him with her. Steph’s cheeks flushed as she re-

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membered the feeling of being betrayed—by both of them. Ra-

ther try to help smooth things over, Stephanie went wild. She’d

accused her mom of sleeping around and told her she hated her

and never wanted to speak to her again. A short time later, when Mom and Cedric were hit by the drunk driver, Steph felt like it

was God’s punishment. Months later, when Cedric left and

joined the seminary, it only seemed to confirm these fears. Deep down she’d always believed her parents’ impending divorce had

been one more shitty thing she was responsible for.

She was nearly back to the Maravilha, when her phone

rang. Her stomach sank. as she assumed it was Christopher, but

she was surprised to see Cheyenne’s number.

“Hello?” she said, expecting Cheyenne to apologize. In-

stead, she heard Yara’s grating, broken English.

“We had to leave you! Where are you? Meet us at Forte

Dos Remédios!” She hung up before Steph could reply. After a

quick trip back to the hotel for her cameras, Steph had Enrique

drop her off at the ruins of the fort. She was fiddling with her camera settings, and when she looked up, she nearly stumbled.

The view of the crumbling fort from above was a shutterbug’s

dream, and her camera was clicking away before she was con-

sciously aware of it. She wandered downward into the ruins, tak-

ing photos from every imaginable angle. An ancient canon loom-

ing over the breathtaking beach below made for an amazing shot.

She spotted David and Yara embracing by an aged brick fortifi-

cation, and she captured them against the azure mirror of the sea and sky. They appeared oblivious to her presence, and she

couldn’t wait to frame it for them as a wedding gift. She also

snapped a candid picture of Cheyenne swinging on a tree swing

with Liam clapping enthusiastically on her lap. It was the sweetest moment, and Steph couldn’t wait to develop it.

She took her time as she wandered in and out of various

portions of the fort. She thought about all the history that must have happened in that spot and shuddered at the enormity of it.

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She was about to leave through an ancient archway when she

saw Phillip leaning against it looking her direction. As she’d

done so many times in the past couple of years, she lifted her

camera and zoomed in on him. He was staring directly at her,

and she snapped a photo of him automatically. He moved pur-

posely toward her, and she stayed frozen by a dilapidated door-

way, waiting for whatever wrathful words he had for her.

He came to a rapid halt about two feet in front of her. She

stared at the grass between their shoes, and after a full minute of silence, she dared to meet his eyes. Those grey-blue eyes had

always had a certain transparency for her. She could never tell

exactly what he was thinking, but she could read his emotional

state fairly well most of the time. The sorrow she now saw be-

hind them overwhelmed her with remorse. Yet she still stood

behind her original decision. He’d been far better off not know-

ing. But it was too late to think about all that now.

“I’m finding it hard to form a cohesive sentence,” he finally

sighed, rubbing his stubble nervously.

Stephanie nodded and released her camera so that it hung

forgotten around her neck. “That makes two of us.”

He heaved a gut-wrenching sigh and put his hands in his

pockets. “I have no idea where to begin.”

She nodded. “I’ll start. Plain and simple: I should have told

you. But honestly, now I’m really sorry you had to find out at

all.”

He nodded, never taking his eyes off of the crashing surf of

the shore below. She saw grief weighing on his handsome fea-

tures and vividly remembered when it had all been so fresh for

her that it stung every morning when she woke. She’d robbed

him of the opportunity to properly mourn for far too long. Regret crippled her, and she took slow, steady breathes to calm herself so that when she spoke again, she sounded level and calm.

“It was a girl, Phillip.” She offered. His eyes shot to hers,

and he took a jarring step back as if she’d hit him. Tears sprang 144

RAGE

to his eyes, and he held up a defensive hand. Steph’s eyes darted to his, trying to understand his body language. She was shocked

at the extent of his reaction.

“I….I really thought I was ready to do this. I…I’m sorry; I

just can’t.” He backed slowly away from her as if she had a gun

trained on him. She opened her mouth to ask him not to go, but

his eyes begged her not to speak, to spare him further wounds.

She said nothing and watched him walk away once again.

She made sure to lag behind as everyone piled into SUV’s

for their next stop, the village center. Finally, she climbed into the last remaining Land Rover with Saffron, Nathan, and Cheyenne, who looked psychotically pissed. When they disembarked

in town, Steph watched Scot approach their vehicle. Though she

couldn’t hear what they were saying to one another, Cheyenne

looked like she was about to go fifty shades of ghetto on Scot.

Kara stood a few yards away from them, cradling Liam. The

nanny looked incredibly afraid.

“Fine!” Cheyenne shouted, and she stalked off in the oppo-

site direction of the rest of their party. Steph trailed after her, running to catch up.

“Where the hell are you going?” Steph panted as she fell in

next to Cheyenne.

“To spend obscene amounts of Scot’s money.” Her icy tone

took Steph by surprise.

“Right on. Mind if I tag along?” she sputtered.

“Sure. Why the hell not?” Cheyenne snapped. Steph led

Cheyenne to the boutique she’d gone to earlier, and the moment

they entered, Cheyenne spoke. “What’s the most expensive thing

in this store?”

The same saleswoman that had helped Steph in broken Por-

tuguese two nights before suddenly spoke English like a duchess.

Steph glared at her, but the saleswoman was too busy fawning

over Cheyenne and her platinum card to notice.

Steph sat outside of the dressing room flipping through old

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issues of Vogue, when she heard a strangled, choking sound and

realized it was Cheyenne sobbing.

“Chey, is everything ok?” It was a ridiculous question, and

Steph actually slapped herself in the forehead for asking it.

“No!” Cheyenne blubbered and after beating on the door for

a couple more minutes, Steph unceremoniously crawled under

the dressing room door. Cheyenne hadn’t even managed to un-

dress. She had her face buried in the corner, sniffling. Steph

walked over and grabbed her by the shoulders, spinning her

around.

“What in the hell is going on with you and Scot?” Steph

demanded. Cheyenne dissolved into racking sobs.

“I think he’s sleeping with Kara.” Cheyenne yanked the

shirt off over her head and dropped her skirt to the floor. She

tossed a dress worth a few grand onto the floor to get at another one. She yanked it over her head as if it were a Fury t-shirt and not a designer gown.

Steph’s eyes bugged out, and her jaw hit the floor. “I’m sor-

ry. What?”

Cheyenne proceeded to wipe her nose on the gown she was

wearing, and then yank it back off. “I keep catching them off

alone whispering. And he’s always touching her.”

Steph couldn’t imagine it could be true. Scot was one of the

good guys. He worshiped Cheyenne. This all had to be some sort

of mistake. She was about to say as much, but the homicidal look on Cheyenne’s face made her think better of it. “Did you confront him?”

“No. I demanded he fire her, and he refused. He defended

her and said she was a ‘really good nanny’.”

“That son of a…” Steph spat, and she flopped down on the

bench in the dressing room.

“You know, I hate all of this shit.” Cheyenne reached down

and held up a gold, glittery clutch. “This is the only thing in this store I like. I’m buying this, and we’re getting a liquid lunch.”