The Art of Sage (Cruz Brothers #2)

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The Art of Sage (Cruz Brothers #2) Page 13

by Melanie Munton


  “So, you and Sage seem tight,” I commented. I hoped it wasn’t obvious that I was basically fishing for information.

  He didn’t seem curious of the question, though. “Yeah. I’ve known her for a while. She’s been my social worker since I was nine whenever I went into the system. She’s one of the ones who actually cares, you know?”

  Yes, she did. I was beginning to think that Sage Tucker might have the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met. “I noticed that. You know much about her?”

  Why am I asking this kid about Sage? It was pretty pathetic.

  “Just that she was a foster kid from the time she was seven, I think. I’ve met her foster mom and dad and brother. They’re all cool. And everyone who knows Sage knows that she’s always mad at the system for something. Always yelling at somebody on the phone or getting so angry that her face turns all red.”

  Huh. I hadn’t seen that side of her yet. Was it weird that I actually wanted to see her mad? I would bet she was a real firecracker when she got going. She was in bed, after all.

  “She’s got a temper, huh?” I asked.

  He glanced up at me, acting like he’d said something wrong. “Sort of. But it’s only because she knows how screwed up the system can be, and she’s only trying to help. She’s a really good person.”

  I threw my hands up. “Hey, you don’t have to convince me. I’m aware of that.”

  His head tilted to the side, his eyes turning thoughtful. “I think she likes you.”

  I kept my reaction neutral but inside, I was spiking the ball in the end zone and doing a victory dance. “Why do you say that?”

  He slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. But whenever she mentioned talking to you about me working here, she got a look in her eyes and she smiled. It was different than the way she smiles at the kids she helps or at her family.” He abruptly averted his eyes and shrugged. “Just something I noticed.”

  This kid working for me may have been the best decision I ever made. He had talent and he could give me the inside track to Sage. Perfect.

  “Well, I like her, too,” I told him. “Why don’t you clean up these stencils and then you can head home.”

  He nodded and closed his notepad. “Sure thing.” He started to walk away but turned back just as I stood up. “She’s special, you know. Sage.”

  I couldn’t discern the expression on his face. If I didn’t know better, I’d say that Sage had a little admirer. And I really felt for the kid because I knew what it was like to be trapped in that witchy woman’s clutches.

  “I’m aware of that too, man,” I assured him with a smile.

  Jamal nodded, looking satisfied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Thinking about what Jamal had said for the rest of the day, it was hard to pretend like Sage didn’t completely confound me at times. She was a conundrum of mystery, contradictions and understated beauty. Trying to figure her out had become somewhat of an art form for me. With her, you had to know when to push, when to put it in neutral, when to zig and when to zag, and how to maneuver her unpredictable approaches.

  I hadn’t been able to get the other night out of my head, whenever she freaked out after I barely touched her. I wanted to chalk the reaction up to a bad dream like she’d said, but something kept nagging at me, telling me that wasn’t the whole story. That she was still hiding something from me and for whatever reason, didn’t feel like she could share it with me yet.

  It had been obvious that what happened after had been a deliberate attempt to distract me from prying. Not that I would ever complain about getting a blow job from Sage, but she couldn’t hide from me. Trying to pull one over on me like that wasn’t going to work forever.

  I’d laid there long after she’d fallen back asleep, tracing every line of every tattoo while holding her, trying to decipher the code of Sage Tucker. Her body and her mind were works of art. Beautifully constructed, both held together by a woman who was nothing short of remarkable in all things that comprised the human spirit.

  I just needed to find the key to unlock the part of herself I knew she was keeping from me.

  ##

  “What are goonies?” Gabby asked as she climbed onto my lap in the camping chair.

  “They’re people,” I explained. “It’s like a name they have because of where they live.”

  “I’m hungry, Dad,” Leo complained from the blanket on the ground where he was sprawled out.

  “You just ate fish sticks at the house,” Dawson told him sternly from the chair next to mine. “And if you keep complaining, you won’t get ice cream after this.” Then, he turned to me and sighed. “Remind me why we decided to do this.”

  I smiled and lifted Gabby off my lap, making her giggle as I dropped her into Dawson’s. “Because Mickie’s working late, you needed to get out of the house, and I wanted to see my niece and nephew.”

  We’d brought the kids to watch The Goonies at Riverside Park while Mickie worked a late shift. The whole thing was my idea because Dawson had sounded like he was about to blow a gasket whenever I talked to him on the phone that afternoon. I figured he just needed to unwind a little. A movie in the park was the best I could do on short notice. But next time I would plan ahead, secure a babysitter, and take him out for numerous beers. The guy needed it.

  I also hadn’t seen The Goonies in forever. Me, him, and Parker used to watch it all the time. So yeah, maybe I was feeling a little nostalgic and missing my brothers. Maybe.

  “So, Mom called the other day,” Dawson said in a somber tone. “Said Sal went to the doctor. His condition is worsening. Doctor said he’s down to a few months now, maybe.”

  That same feeling that I always got whenever I heard Sal’s name hit me. It wasn’t sadness or depression at the realization that I was going to lose my father. It was an empty feeling which, to me, was even worse than devastation because that emptiness was where the love for the man should have been. There should have been devotion there and happy memories that would crumble to the ground with his death, completely shattering my heart.

  But there was nothing.

  Nothing but the itch.

  Thoughts of Sal always brought it back, making me want to reach for medicine that was no longer there—hadn’t been there for five years—to get rid of the ironically painful emptiness. It made me wonder if there was something wrong with me because I couldn’t feel for the man. But there was nothing to fall back on in the wake of his destructive behavior. There was no knowledge that he truly was a good man inside and had just become a lost soul somewhere down the road. There were no lingering emotions that proved that he really did love all of us. And there had never been any apologies that would allow me to possibly forgive every deplorable act he’d ever committed.

  “Is he still staying at the house for now?” I asked in a cracked voice.

  “Yeah, for now. He’ll probably have to be admitted to the hospital when he’s down to a few weeks because she won’t be able to handle it all by herself.”

  “Have you asked her what she’s going to do when he’s gone?”

  His face went slack, his eyes turning into giant pools of trepidation. “No. Every time I try to bring it up she turns into a statue, won’t even acknowledge the reality of it happening yet. I know she knows it’s coming, but I don’t think she has a clue what she’s going to do when he’s no longer there to yell at her. It’s sick but she’s dependent on him to a certain degree.”

  I said what I said next with caution because I knew how Dawson typically reacted to the subject. “Well, you know what my suggestion is.”

  He gave a hard shake of his head. “You really think that committing her is the best idea?”

  “Admitting her to rehab is not committing her to an asylum,” I argued. “You know as well as I do how severe her addiction is and how worse it could get when she’s completely alone. Besides, how is it any different than when you and Parker intervened in my situation?”

  “That was different,” he sai
d in a low voice. “You weren’t as fragile as she is.”

  That’s what you think. “Trust me, man. Everyone with an addiction is fragile when it comes to their fix. She needs this. If there’s going to be any chance of her having a better life, this is the first step.”

  He looked over at me, his eyes showing rare vulnerability. My tough-as-nails brother never showed his weaknesses to the world. “And what if it doesn’t work? Or what if it makes things worse?”

  “Would you rather not try at all? What if the worst ended up happening and we stood aside and did nothing to help her? She may have made a lot of mistakes, but at least we knew that she tried. Are you prepared to live with yourself by remaining idle while she deteriorates?”

  He sighed, tipping his head back, his eyes appearing to search the stars for answers. “Let’s just talk about this later, okay? I’m not ready to come to a decision on that yet.”

  I studied him for a second and took pity. He had to deal with who knew how much messed up shit at work, and here I was bringing him down even further when he should have been enjoying a relaxing evening with his kids.

  “Alright. Just answer me one question first, though.”

  “What?” he asked wearily.

  “Are you ever going to see him in person before he goes to the hospital?”

  None of us had yet. Not since his diagnosis. And Dawson had by far the most tumultuous relationship with Sal, being the oldest and thereby having dealt with his behavior the longest.

  He remained silent for several long beats. “I don’t know,” he spoke quietly. “Hadn’t planned on it. What would be the point, anyway? It’s not like he’s asked for forgiveness or anything. Just because he’s dying doesn’t mean anything has changed.”

  “Who’s dying, Daddy?” Gabby asked. I’d almost forgotten she was sitting on his lap.

  He kissed the top of her head. “Nobody, sweetheart.”

  Gabby and Leo had never met their grandparents, Dawson having refused to introduce them since the day the kids were born. He didn’t want them to have anything to do with Sal for obvious reasons. Our mother was high on her pills half the time, and he didn’t want them exposed to that either, which I didn’t blame him for. From the expressions I’d seen on our mother’s face whenever she asked Dawson about them, I knew it killed her to not be allowed to see her grandchildren.

  But she was too weak to make the necessary changes to alter her situation.

  “I’m going to starve to death,” Leo moaned with his hands over his face.

  “You didn’t bring any snacks?” I asked Dawson who was staring at his son in bemusement.

  “I was lucky enough just to pick them up on time and get any food in them at all. You think I had time to pack snacks?”

  I stood up and checked my back pocket for my wallet. “I’ll go over to one of the food trucks. One of them is bound to have chips or candy bars or something.”

  “They don’t need candy,” Dawson insisted.

  I just gave him a look. “Dude, I don’t get to be the favorite uncle that often. That’s usually Parker’s domain, so let me have my fun for one night.”

  He rolled his eyes and muttered, “Fine.”

  “See if they have any Fun-Yuns!” Leo blurted.

  “No Fun-Yuns,” Dawson growled. “Your breath gets stinky when you eat those.”

  I walked off smiling whenever Gabby and Leo busted up laughing at that. I didn’t miss Dawson’s grin right before he started mercilessly tickling his daughter. Dodging snuggling couples and hyper children, I made my way over to the food trucks parked at the edge of the grassy area. I looked over the crowd as I stood in line at one truck…and stopped breathing.

  A flash of purple shined like a beacon amongst the throng of people.

  I leaned around a few patrons in my way, squinting my eyes, and spotted a smiling Sage in the distance.

  A Sage who was smiling…at some other guy.

  What the hell? My feet moved in her direction before my brain told them to, my subconscious demanding that I find out who the fuck she was with. As I got closer, I could see a broad back, thick arms, every inch of which were covered in tattoos, and long dark hair pulled back in one of those stupid man-bun things.

  They were sitting on a blanket together, far too close for my liking, looking comfortable and relaxed around each other as they talked. And Sage was fucking laughing at whatever the douchebag was saying, throwing him smiles that I would like to think were reserved strictly for me.

  Who was this asshole?

  And why was she with him? She couldn’t possibly have been seeing someone else while she was hooking up with me, could she? Even though we hadn’t clearly defined our relationship, she knew we had something going on. And surely, she would have been aware of the unwritten rule of exclusivity in a situation like this. She wasn’t the type of person to ignore that. Right?

  I had to find out either way. I approached them, standing over their bodies like an ogre about to tear his competition limb from limb.

  “What the hell is this?”

  Not the best first line.

  Sage’s head snapped up to me in surprise, her eyes widening when she realized it was me. “Mason…hi. What are you doing here?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the prick was now looking at me. But if my eyes met his, I might have started beating the shit out of him. So, I kept my focus on her, my expression demanding an explanation.

  “I could ask you the same question,” I snarled. “Because it sure looks like I’m interrupting something.”

  She looked speechless as she glanced at her friend and then back at me. My attention finally centered on the tattooed Hulk whenever he tried to cover up a laugh with a cough.

  “Something funny, man?” I snapped at him.

  I took him in, assessing his size and potential weaknesses, knowing I could take him with the amount of rage I had flowing through my system.

  “A little bit, yeah,” was his reply, prompting me to take a menacing step forward.

  Sage’s hand shot out, stopping me as she stood up and glared at the guy. “Shut up,” she said to him. Looking back at me, she said, “Mason, this is—”

  “Some other convenient guy for you?” I finished, losing all sense as my anger intensified. “I’m fixing your engine for you, so what’s this guy’s story? Your plumber, tightening your pipes or some shit?”

  The Asshole Extraordinaire lunged to his feet then, his eyes filled with threats. “Okay, now. You aren’t going to talk to her like that.”

  I smirked, matching him for every step he took toward me. “And what are you going to do?”

  Sage inserted herself between us, her small body swallowed up by our bulky forms. “Stop. Right now. Mason, this is my brother, Pierce. Pierce, meet Mason Cruz.”

  Holy.

  Fuck.

  Her brother. The foster brother she’d told me about who had helped her through her roughest times. The one who was always there for her. The tattoo artist she loved like any blood brother she could ever have.

  I am such a dumbass.

  “Shit,” I mumbled, taking a step back and grabbing the back of my head. I didn’t blame this guy for wanting to kick my ass. I wanted to kick my ass. “I’m really sorry, man,” I told him, extending my hand.

  He stood there glaring, arms folded over his chest and didn’t take my hand. “I think it’s her you need to be apologizing to.”

  He’s right. I was afraid to see the look on Sage’s face, but was even more confused whenever I saw the grin she wasn’t even trying to hide. “I’m sorry, Sage. I wasn’t thinking. I just saw you with another guy and…I’m an idiot.”

  She nodded. “Yeah, you are. I can’t be happy that you would accuse me of sleeping around like that—”

  I shook my head. “No, I—”

  She put her hand up. “But I cannot say that I wouldn’t have reacted the same way without having all the information first.”

  Now, I was th
e speechless one. I didn’t know how to respond to that and Pierce was still standing there like her bodyguard. He didn’t look quite as pissed as a second ago, but he didn’t look like he wanted to buy me a beer and give me his blessing either.

  She put a placating hand on her brother’s arm. “Stand down there, Hoss. He’s a good one. I promise.”

  Pierce’s eyes were narrowed at me. “He sounded like it from what you told me.” She had talked about me to him? “And if he’s prone to get jealous like that, it must mean that he likes you. Just don’t be an asshole,” he sneered at me. “Okay?”

  I gave him a curt nod. “You have my word. What just happened was totally out of the norm for me.”

  Which was true. Unlike my brothers, I usually had a pretty firm hold on my anger. Although where Sage was concerned, control of any kind with me oftentimes seemed to be absent.

  He breathed out slowly through his nose. “I guess I’ll let it slide because I know how crazy my sister can make people.”

  Sage huffed at that and Pierce just smiled at her. She turned her indignant expression on me and started hauling me away by the arm. “Come with me.”

  “Uh, where are we going?”

  The look she shot over her shoulder at me was frosty with a hint of naughty. “You’re going to make it up to me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Sage

  I was unbelievably, irrationally turned on.

  I’d thought that Mason all horny and in the throes of passion was hot. But seeing him jealous, ready to rip off Pierce’s head if he so much as touched me? I wanted to mount him right there in the middle of all those people, to hell with the consequences.

  I pulled Mason behind me as I made my way to the small bathroom facilities on the other side of the hill that separated the movie area from the nearby tennis courts. With a line of Port-a-Johns right by the grassy viewing area, most people didn’t bother with walking over to the bathrooms, especially since they were one-person facilities. I would bet that most of them didn’t even know they were over there.

 

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