Hope (Things That Matter Book 2)

by Casey Diam

  “I wasn’t planning to bring this up until later, but as I briefly mentioned to Grandpa, the people who broke into our home that night are still out there, and they’re searching for me. It’s so bad that Caleb and I shouldn’t even be here right now. With that being said, you both need to be really careful about whom you trust or talk to. Even the police officers. Some of them have been working with those monsters.”

  I cringed at her reference.

  “Right now, we’re looking for answers to things we can’t find without some help. But, after tonight, we can’t see you again until this is over because we don’t want anything to happen to you, too. You’re the only ones we have left. Please understand,” Paige begged.

  Mr. Sawyer nodded, and then so did Mrs. Sawyer after a long inhale.

  But then she asked, “Can I ask about Olivia? Do you know where she is or what happened to her?”

  I swallowed. Fuck. This was what I hadn’t wanted.

  I fidgeted with an edge of the photo album, letting my eyes travel between the two Sawyers. “I was also taken at a young age. I never met her.”

  “Oh, honey. I’m sorry.” She patted my thigh.

  “Besides the foggy old picture from the missing person file, he’s never seen her. So, I think these should really help.”

  Paige’s hand rested on my forearm, and I had a feeling she’d asked for these photo albums for me. She wanted me to get to know the other side of my family, even the ones my own father had sent to their graves, including my mom. But as the gravity of the situation hit me, I would rather keep the album closed.

  Paige squeezed my arm. “We can look at these after dinner.”

  I gathered it would be just as hard for her to see these photos. She looked from her grandmother next to me to her grandfather standing a few feet before us. “Who did Olivia date before she went missing? Do you have any idea?”

  Mrs. Sawyer shook her head. “Your grandpa and I were traveling when she got pregnant. We didn’t know until she was six months along.” Her eyes met mine. “Your mom was a very private person. I think she took that from your grandpa—both her and your uncle, David. It’s why he had a studio at home and wrote instead of performed.”

  “So, how did you know when she went missing?” Paige asked.

  “David’s wife. Those two were best friends. Leanne told me she had gone to visit Olivia’s condo a few days after Caleb was born because she wasn’t getting Olivia by phone. Since she had a key to the apartment, she went right inside. Everything except for her car was left behind. The police said she ran away, but Olivia had no reason to do something like that. She would never have left Leanne without saying anything.”

  If that were the case and the two were that close as friends, maybe Olivia did say something to Leanne. And if Leanne knew about Alex Connor, that he was the one who might have taken Olivia, she would have mentioned it to her husband. That had to be why Alex Connor had gone after the Sawyers—to keep them from talking. But why would he have waited for so many years?

  “What about Paige?” I asked. “You didn’t know about her either? Like where she came from or how?”

  “Leanne was pregnant. Everyone knew, and all of us thought Paige was hers. She loved and took care of you like her own,” Mrs. Sawyer said, her attention turning to Paige. “So, there was no other reason to think otherwise.”

  “Your hair color, it changed,” Mr. Sawyer said. “Tell her, Lydia.”

  “Uh, well, it wasn’t by much.” Mrs. Sawyer shook her head. “It was just something I noticed when I had visited Leanne and David at the mansion. At the hospital, the little hair you had was more like a light brown, but it changed to a lighter blonde when we visited a few weeks later. I didn’t think too much of it because you had grown so much, and babies’ hairs change all the time.”

  “How did Leanne seem when you visited her those few weeks later? Was she happy? Was there anything you noticed that was different with her?” I asked, chewing over the fact that Leanne had a baby girl who wasn’t Paige, which meant I had a cousin who was out there.

  Lydia looked at her husband before she spoke. “She went through a really bad post-partum depression. That pregnancy changed her. She was a social butterfly, but after she became pregnant, she started to stay home more, and stayed home altogether after she gave birth. Her doing that hadn’t been strange, it was just that she hadn’t done that after Reese. It wasn’t until she became pregnant with Alaina that she started to become more like herself again.”

  “The FBI told us that Leanne had an STD testing done about two weeks before she went in for a pregnancy test.” Mr. Sawyer said. “They wanted to know if we had any reason to believe that there were any marital problems between our son and Leanne, or if either of them might have been involved with anyone else.”

  A knock came from the front door.

  “That must be the food,” Mr. Sawyer said, heading to the door.

  Paige and I bolted up off of the sofa.

  “We’re going to wait in the bedroom while it’s delivered,” Paige explained.

  I agreed with her. After everything, I wasn’t willing to take any more chances.

  When we walked into the room, Paige wrapped her arms around me and I held her close.

  “Leanne was sad because I wasn’t hers,” Paige murmured, squeezing me. “Every time she cried, she wasn’t only crying about Olivia being gone.” Her voice hitched. “She was crying because her daughter was gone too.”

  “But what happened to her baby that she needed to replace her with you?”

  A strong feeling told me that Alex Connor had happened, but I still didn’t see how those dots could connect.

  Did he kidnap Leanne’s child out of spite? Maybe as a warning because she knew he had taken my mother. But, if that were the case, what happened to Leanne’s real daughter?

  “What if Connor did to her the same thing that he did to your mother?”

  “You think he would have raped Leanne, too?”

  “I don’t know, Caleb. I don’t know.” She sighed. “But with the STD test thing and...if he did, you might have a sister.”

  I swallowed, then cupped her head as I kissed her forehead and closed my eyes. I couldn’t think about her speculations, because then, I would have to think about the worst-case scenario if that had been the case.

  The conversation over dinner was lighter than the heavier stuff we’d started the night with, but the whole time, all I thought about was Leanne’s pregnancy.

  “We started some work on the mansion about a month ago,” Mrs. Sawyer was saying to Paige. “Since we hadn’t heard from you and we were back in town, we wanted to do something to help make it ready for you in case you wanted to sell it or whatever you decided to do with it. It’s still yours.”

  “But why?” Paige’s mouth turned down as she forked the last broccoli on her plate, leaving the rice and chicken breast for last. “I’m not your real granddaughter. If anyone should have it, it should be Caleb.”

  “What?” She couldn’t possibly think I wanted anything to do with that place. “No, it’s yours. Please, you know I don’t need it.” I also wouldn’t be able to use it if I was in jail.

  “What happened to all the stuff that was inside?” Paige asked. “The furniture and everything.”

  “Most of the furniture was donated, some tossed,” Mr. Sawyer said. “The personal stuff was placed in storage until you’re ready to go through it. We weren’t sure what to do with them just yet, especially without hearing from you first.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Paige

  Caleb and I settled on the couch after dinner, and I was sure his brain was overflowing with as many questions as mine. As we flipped through the thick sheets of the album, I leaned onto his chest, and one of his arms draped around my shoulders. It was strange, staring at the wealthy, carefree life I’d once had in comparison to how I’d been living my life since then. And, even though it made me sad, I couldn’t keep my eyes from lo
oking. I wanted more of the smiles and happy faces staring back at us.

  I slid my arm between Caleb’s back and the cushion, and I tucked my face closer to his chest. He was so warm and cozy; I could fall asleep here. He ran his thumb over a picture of his mom. She looked like the rest of the family I’d known with blonde hair and blue eyes, but her hair was cut into a bob. In the picture, she was laughing with my dad in his studio, and the neck of a guitar hung from her hand, the body of it touching the floor at her feet. I closed my eyes, listening to Caleb’s heartbeat against my ear.

  “Do you think the Sawyers would let me have this picture?” Caleb asked.

  Grandma and Grandpa had retreated to their room to give us some privacy as we went through the album.

  “Yeah, take it.” I didn’t have to look to know it was the picture where his mom had the guitar. I knew he was starting to see what he shared with the other side of his family.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  He waited before sliding it out of the clear pocket. When I heard a click from the room door, I started to ease away from him, but he kept me secured to his chest.

  “They know.”

  “No, they don’t,” I whispered.

  “Let’s see how surprised they act, and then you can tell me if I’m wrong.”

  Silence dragged on as we waited for an interruption until I got impatient and turned to see Grandma leaning against Grandpa, a hand over her chest and hearts and stars exploding in her eyes. She didn’t look surprised, just delighted. He wasn’t wrong. They knew.

  Grandma smiled. “We wish you two could stay with us. Please know, our door is always open whenever you’re able to see us again.”

  I nodded.

  “We’re falling asleep, but you’re welcome to stay,” Grandpa said.

  “No, it’s okay. You’ve really helped us a lot, and we should get going,” I responded.

  Caleb held up the picture he’d removed from the album. “Paige said I could take this picture. I hope it’s okay.”

  “Yes, of course, sweetie. Take whatever you need.” Grandma okayed it, and I swore, I felt as Caleb’s heart stuttered in his chest.

  “Thank you.”

  As Caleb skimmed through the albums one last time, I sat up straight and stood, hugging Grandma and Grandpa. A quiet sadness still lingered in their eyes, but for the most part, they seemed to have moved on.

  When Caleb stood, Grandma embraced him. “You can take the albums and return them when we see you again,” I heard her tell him.

  Grandma was still casting her hooks. Smiling, I waited for Caleb to bite.

  “I can’t do that,” he said, not biting.

  “No, it’s no problem at all. I promise. You should take them. It’s the least I can do,” she encouraged, a huge smile on her face as she pulled back and stared up at Caleb, so much love in her eyes even though she’d just met him.

  “Okay,” Caleb accepted.

  I was glad. He might be scared of our grandparents learning the truth about his mother and what his father had done, but he’d had nothing to do with what that evil asshole did.

  “Take care of her,” Grandpa told Caleb with a firm handshake.

  “I will.”

  “He’s your grandson,” I said. “I think you should be telling me to be gentle with him.”

  “I know, but first and foremost, I need to make sure my grandson’s a gentleman.”

  I grinned, wrapping my arms around Caleb. “He is.”

  That was another characteristic Caleb had gotten from the Sawyers. I didn’t know much about the Connor side of his family, but I was starting to see how much more like the Sawyers he was and less like the man he’d been around his whole life.

  ❧

  Alternative music played softly in the background while light rain sprinkled on the windshield on the ride home. Both of us were deep in thought, a habit we still needed to break. His hand reached over and touched my thigh, and warmth flowed through my body. He was signaling his need for some kind of connection, but my fingers were laced together. His hand drifted up and down my forearm before it slipped between my hands.

  “I’m proud of you,” he said. “For today at the mansion and for looking through those albums, looking into your past. You did good.”

  I looked at him, the streetlights and darkness casting shadows over him. Even though I’d had an ulterior motive to find anything that could bring us answers and take Alex Connor down for good, he was right. I didn’t feel the world caving in on me like I had the last time.

  “I’m proud of you, too. Thank you for going with me.” I waited a moment before I told him, “You shouldn’t listen to Alex Connor. Your mom wanted you. Think about it. What does your birth certificate say? What name is on it?”

  “Caleb Sawyer, but that doesn’t say much. He could have coerced her to do that in order to keep his name off the records. That would keep him out of the spotlight when things went awry.”

  “You’re right. But I want you, and so does Grandma and Grandpa. And don’t say it’s because they don’t know the truth.” I smiled. “I know them. I know the truth, and I still want you. You’re not him.”

  He looked somber as he said, “It’s crazy.”

  “What’s crazy?”

  “Music and how it just called to me. I didn’t know about the Sawyers until I was nineteen. I started playing when I was eighteen. But, before that, I used to listen to acoustic versions of songs on the radio or live performances on TV. By the time I had some freedom, I was itching to get my hands on any instrument, so I took music my first semester in college. The same week, I signed up for private lessons from a guitarist, but I caught on to it so fast, the sessions only lasted for a month. It was just weird because I couldn’t understand how I’d learned it so fast or where the passion for it was coming from. So, when I found out about the Sawyers, it made some sense. Then I hated it as much as I loved it every time I thought about what Connor had told me, about them not wanting me. It was stupid, but each time I picked up the guitar, I felt like I was sharing something special with the people who didn’t want me. But I couldn’t stop playing.” His head jerked. “I tried.”

  “Well, I’m glad you didn’t stop. I watch you play at the bar or hear you sometimes practicing at the condo, and I don’t think you realize how talented you are.”

  “Yeah?” He squeezed my hand. “You’re just saying that because you’re my girlfriend-for-now.”

  A smile tugged at my lips.

  The whole bar quieted when he played, but I had a feeling it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. I was also sure he didn’t want to hear what’d been on my mind lately, about how my feelings for him had increased and how my stupid, juvenile heart hadn’t gotten the just temporary memo.

  “But I love when you play, and I love your voice, so you should totally sing to me sometime.”

  He glanced at me. “It won’t make you cry?”

  “You’ve noticed?”

  A corner of his lip tipped up. “A little bit.”

  “I don’t think I will next time, but I’m not promising anything.”

  He chuckled. “Okay.”

  Pulling his hand from mine, he clicked a few buttons on the dashboard until “Push” by Matchbox Twenty came on. He’d done a cover on this one at the bar a few times, and it was one of my favorites, but I hadn’t expected him to sing it this second.

  Oh my God! I mouthed, unable to contain the emotions bursting inside me.

  I felt like a starstruck teen backstage with a lead singer. And, with the rain on the windshield and Caleb’s raspy voice reaching over Matchbox Twenty’s vocals in the background, I’d never experienced anything this perfect. The ache in my cheeks from the wide grin on my face could attest to that.

  When the last note from the song left his lips, I said, “Caleb, you love this. You love playing. Get an X-ray done on your finger. It would be stupid not to. It could heal wrong and bother you for the rest of your life and ke
ep you from playing. You have to play.”

  He was too incredible not to.

  He reached across the console and took my hand. Lifting it to his lips, he whispered, “Okay.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Caleb

  I wasn’t looking forward to today. Not like I looked forward to any day I had to go to work for Alex Connor, but today, I would have to see him in person with documents he needed to sign before I could close on a unit in New York tomorrow. These past few days, I’d been considering not showing up, but I was involved with a criminal, the cops, and the FBI. It reminded me of how things weren’t and would never be that simple. But I would do my best to make it simpler for her.

  Speaking of her, she wasn’t in the bed where I’d left her while I showered, and even the bed was made.

  Tossing my towel onto the bed, I walked to my dresser, removed a pair of black boxers, and pulled them on. When I went to the closet to grab one of my dry-cleaned suits, I smiled. Paige had removed the plastic from all of them. I was guessing she didn’t know I left them in the plastic because I didn’t have a lint roller.

  After donning my pants and dress shirt, I brought my suit jacket out to the living room and hung it on one of the barstools. Calvin was in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, and I glimpsed Paige on the area rug in front of the sofa. I grabbed a cup and poured myself some of the hazelnut coffee that had been taunting my senses for the last half hour. When I turned around, I stopped, almost spilling the coffee. Paige was in a full split on the floor in front of the couch. Not one of those side splits, but a full-on fucking split. My head tilted to the side as she leaned forward.

  Holy shit. I hadn’t known she could do that.

  “Hot damn, dude. I know we’re like brothers, but—”

  My hand whipped out, smacking Calvin in the chest.

  “Ooomph. Asshole, that was my sternum.”

  “Yeah, well, finish that sentence, and I’ll knock you out.”