Cage (3 page)

(
Return to Table of Contents
)

Chapter 3 – Saffron

Pennsylvania, Present Day

Just laying my eyes on Sawyer was enough to bring back every furious
emotion I’d bottled up for the last several years. The tremendous jackass that
he was, my stepbrother acted as if he hadn’t walked out on us all that time
ago.

The way the atmosphere had changed, it was as if Sawyer had only really
been living around the corner, maybe a few towns over. Every few weeks, he’d
zip by on his motorcycle and share some coffee with Mom, or update me on his
latest sexual conquest. I’d call him a manwhore pig and he’d call me naïve and
a tease.

Of course, that’s not really happened.

My stepbrother had scampered off in the middle of the night five long
years ago. A hasty note had been left on his bed for our parents, explaining
some brief, bullshit little teenage rebellion. He’d left his phone, his laptop,
and no contact information.

Nothing for me. Not one word. Not one whisper.

I’d been devastated.

Betrayed.

He was the second man I’d trusted who had walked out on me, after my own
father. I could only guess how our parents had taken it – they were
beside themselves for the first few days, but surprisingly seemed okay enough
afterwards. At least, while I was around, at any rate. I mean, what other
explanation could there be?

Obviously, they were just good at hiding their worry.

And now the jackass was standing in my kitchen again after all these
years, and he was acting as if nothing had changed. Like he’d popped out the
door for a moment, stepped back in, and the entire world had aged five years in
the meantime.

Gone out for cigarettes. What
do you mean, ‘five years?’

 
“Honey? Is something the
matter?”

Mom was looking at me with mild concern, while Sawyer was leaning
against the counter by the stove, a Heineken against his lips.

I snapped back down to reality. “Mom, you…you
can’t
be serious. He
abandoned
us. You can’t seriously expect me to spend my entire summer with him?”

She pursed her lips for a moment. “Saffron, dear, maybe this is a good
time for you two to catch up. I thought you would have been
thrilled
to see your stepbrother again,
after all this time…”

“Not like this,” I told her, letting myself down from the barstool.

 
My eyes angrily turned to my
stepbrother, who was gazing faintly in my direction – with the world’s
most innocent look plastered across his face.

“It’s been
years
since I’ve
seen you,” I told him furiously. “Since
any
of us have seen you. You just come strolling back in like nothing’s
changed? No. You don’t get to pretend that and make me go along with it.”

He took a deep swig of the bottle, maintaining eye contract with me.
Mom’s overly cheerful eyes saddened a little, and a frown started to form along
the edges.

My disgruntled stare fell back on her. “You know, it’s bad enough that
Dad and you are taking Paris away from me, but
this?
This is too much for me to process.”

“Saffron… Your father and I need some time alone… If you’d just…”

“You’re going to
Paris?
And
you’re leaving her here?” Sawyer set the half-full beer bottle down on the
countertop. He crossed his arms and leant back.
“
Nobody told
me
that. No
wonder Saffie’s pissed…I’d probably be, too. That’s pretty low.”

I raised an eyebrow at him.

He did the same. But with the motion, he lifted the corner of his mouth
into that trademark smirk of his. My brother had a private weapon: the
Panty Dropper
, he and his friends called
it. According to them, it was the half-grin that landed him half his high
school one-night-stands…of which there were many… I remembered every single
one.

He used to tease me with it sometimes. It had made living with my cocky
asshole of a stepbrother uncomfortable in ways that it really shouldn’t have.

“Now, don’t
you
get in on this
too,” Mom chided him. “Saffron has a point, you know. Your father and I have
been
worried sick
about you for
years
. None of us have seen you since
you turned eighteen.”

Sawyer opened his mouth, but swallowed his words. After a moment, he was
swallowing his beer again, too.

“Now, if it’s
any
consolation,”
Mom went on, turning to me, “I did try to talk your father out of it. I knew it
would upset you, honey, and that’s the last thing I want to do…”

“Well, great way of showing it,” I grumbled. “Picking my dream for your
anniversary vacation, forcing me out of the house, then making me stay all
summer with the ‘Brother of the Year’ World Champion, Five Years Running…”

“That’s enough,” I heard a thick, oaky voice command.

We all recognized it immediately.

Chet.

My stepfather was standing in the doorway to the side, his thick arms
crossed. Dressed in casual comfort and a hoodie, he was just as imposing man as
the day I’d met him – at several inches over six feet. Freshly shaven, he
had kept the thick, bushy moustache that he’d grown since Sawyer left –
which accented the firm irritation on his face.

“
Both
of you,” Chet continued.
“After all this time, I manage to get the two of you in the same room again,
and it’s back to bickering as usual…”

The room went quiet, and even my mother hesitated, turning from Sawyer
to me. She looked like she wanted to say something. Before she could, my
stepfather immediately strolled into the kitchen with a large grin on his face.
His arms wrapped around Sawyer in a bear hug, peeling him from his relaxed lean
against the counter.

His words were quiet, almost choked.

“Welcome home, son.”

My stepbrother stiffened instantly, but gradually relaxed into the
embrace. Within seconds, they were hugging each other long long-lost family,
which…technically, they qualified a little.

“It’s great to have you back,” our father continued, pulling free to
hold Sawyer at arm’s length. They studied each other’s eyes, face, and build
for a moment. “Healthy and all!
Strong
,
too!” My stepdad squeezed Sawyer’s arm. “You must be in
incredible
shape…”

“Yeah, well,” Sawyer remarked with a slight grin, “let’s just say I’ve
been taking care of myself. You’re not looking too bad yourself, old man.”

He chuckled in response. “Well, I’ve been trying to hit the gym when I
can find the spare time…”

They pulled away from each other, and while Chet grabbed another beer
from the fridge, the years were clearly sliding off of them. My mother had
stepped over, standing close to me, and we watched the two of them making up
for lost time.

I had to admit…as furious as I was at Sawyer, it was endearing to see
him reunited with his father after all this time. I still needed to find out
the real story – why Sawyer left in the first place – but for now…I
could stand to watch them defrost in each other’s presence.

While they started swapping small talk and vague life updates, I found
my thoughts drifting towards the change in my stepfather’s disposition.

He had become, in a word,
gruff
.
His son disappearing from his life hadn’t helped. The worst part was that he
still smiled and laughed along with the rest of us – but it was clear to
anyone who knew him well that his heart wasn’t into it.

As the months became years, and Sawyer failed to show up on our doorstep
again, his penchant for keeping up the act whittled away. I couldn’t think of
the last time I had seen him smile, or even offer the faintest chuckle to a
joke.

With that said, his business associates never seemed to notice –
but he became a completely different person around them. The few times they had
been around, he effortlessly slipped back into his persona of being a jovial,
confident man – making them roar with laughter at every turn.

My mother and I saw the
real
him.

He was a man weakened by grief.

But that had all changed with Sawyer’s return.

My thoughts were conflicted on this. True, seeing my stepbrother again
had brought him straight back to who he was before. But I couldn’t overlook the
fact that it was
Sawyer’s fault
that our
father had been so depressed for the last few years. On top of that, I still
had my personal reasons for being furious with him – and as much as
seeing them together warmed my heart, I could look in his eyes and see the
truth.

Sawyer was still the monumental ass he had always been. His blind
arrogance was just as strong as ever.

I bit my lip angrily, watching them drink beer together and laugh. My
mother’s hand clasped onto my shoulder, giving me a tight squeeze.

“I know you two had your differences,” she whispered to me, “and that
you’re still angry about your brother leaving. Isn’t it worth it, just for
this?”

I honestly didn’t have an answer.

Instead, I decided that enough was enough. As I pushed away from the
counter and turned my back on their stupid little family reunion, the others
diverted their attention towards me.
He
abandoned us. I don’t CARE that he’s back, and he’s safe…he gets to pull that
shit and then get a nice, warm homecoming? No. Fuck that.

“Saffron–” Mom called out for me.

Her concern meant nothing to me. I stormed around the corner and out of
sight, disappearing down the hall and up the stairs. Another turn, another
corridor, and the door to my bedroom appeared on the right.

I could hear that nobody was coming for me, and that was fine by me. In
our old apartment, I could have walked fifteen feet and slammed the door to my
bedroom, but in this stupid oversized house I had to go through multiple
hallways and ascend a flight of stairs first.

It’s a good thing I didn’t have a flair for the dramatic.

It’d be hard to get an audience in a place like this.

Once I’d thrown it closed and locked it, I slumped backwards against the
door and down to the floor. It had been hard to hold it all back while my
family surrounded me – in my private room, however, I was free to let it
every last conflicting emotion come crashing out in a complete mess.

Sawyer Samuels.

My relationship with him had been complicated.
Very
complicated. From the day I met him, he was a complete jackass
to me, just shy of belittling me at every last fucking turn. I never knew what
his problem with me was, but he seemed to get his rocks off on antagonizing me
in these small, subtle mind games. I hated it. I hated
him.

Except…neither of those were true.

I
enjoyed
it. It was like we
were playing this constant game with one another. I was always on the
defensive, and he was always on the attack, but something about the game just
kept me playing.

It was true that he was a complete asshole to me. I couldn’t stand how
fucking cocky he was, with his attractive build that I saw way too often when
he’d wander around the house shirtless. Then there was that stupid little smirk
he had used on me all the time. He was so confidant, so self-assured, and he had
never turned down an opportunity to pick at me.

But I…
I loved it.

It was stupid and I knew it. I don’t know why I let him get away with it
– it’s not like I couldn’t stand my ground against him. But for some
reason… I reveled in his antagonistic attention. I didn’t let him walk all over
me by any means, and I’d challenge him if he got out of line, but something
about the weird, stupid stepsibling tension between us enticed me.