Raw Deal (Larson Brothers #1)(41)

“Okay. So you like him?”

Savannah forced herself to stare her reflection in the face, in the eyes, as she said, “Yes. I like him a lot.”

“I could already tell.” Rowan sighed. “I’m going to trust you know what you’re doing.”

Did any of them know? Really? All they could do was make decisions based on the information they had at hand, and hope for the best. But the relief, oh, sweet Jesus, the relief at knowing Rowan didn’t hate her . . . at least, not yet. She closed her eyes, savoring it. “Thank you.”

“Where is he taking you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well . . . Let me see the dress on you, at least.”

With sore, burning eyes, Savannah unlatched the dressing room door and pulled it open to face Rowan’s critical analysis. “I love it,” she proclaimed at last, meeting Savannah’s eyes with a smile. A tremulous one, not an overly happy one, but a smile all the same.

“Me too.”

“In fact I love it a little too much. Are you sure we shouldn’t find you something that covers you from neck to ankle?”

Savannah chuckled. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

For the rest of the day, Rowan seemed a little quieter, a little more introspective, but she insisted on helping Savannah pick out the right pair of shoes and the right shade of nail polish for her fingers and toes when they went for their mani-pedis. The only time Mike came up again was when they were on their way back to the hotel and Rowan leaned close, saying, “What about your parents?”

Savannah waved a hand. “Honestly, I don’t think there will ever be any need for them to know . . . unless you tell them.” And hell, at this point, who was she to judge if Rowan wanted them to know? “Besides, I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I realize it’s a dead end. I do.”

“Then . . . why? You say you don’t know, but maybe you ought to figure it out. Maybe you at least should look him up. I have. You might not like what you find.”

Mike had hinted as much himself, and the thought started a sick, sinking feeling in the pit of Savannah’s stomach. Why would she want to see him through the lens of the press, or his detractors, or the people who outright hated him? None of those people knew him. Hell, she didn’t know him, but the person she was slowly becoming acquainted with didn’t seem to deserve the hand he’d been dealt.

It only made her look forward to seeing him all the more, even knowing there was a Pandora’s box of horrific things in his past. As far as she was concerned, it could remain closed.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Savannah told her gently. “But I don’t think the way he’s being treated is fair, Ro, and I had as much reason to hate him as anyone, don’t you think? Tommy was my brother. He was your husband, I get it, but I grew up with him. We played in the sandbox together. He taught me to climb trees and ride a bike, to swim, and to swing a bat when other kids made fun of me for not knowing what I was doing. I don’t say this to minimize what you’re feeling, only to assure you that if there were any part of me that blames Mike for taking him from us, I would have nothing to do with him, Rowan. Nothing. I hope you believe that.”

“Maybe you should watch the last few seconds of that fight. I know you looked away.” For the first time today, true bitterness crept into Rowan’s voice.

Savannah threw her hands up. “Why? Why would I want to see that?”

“Tommy was done. He was on the mat. The ref called it. Mike hit him again.” It was spoken as if Savannah were an uncomprehending four-year-old.

“You don’t know if that was the blow that did it, and even if it was, was he already midswing? Could he have stopped? If the ref had called it half a second earlier, would Tommy be alive today? If that’s the case, then why don’t you blame the ref?”

Rowan considered that in silence for a moment. “I don’t want to fight about this, Savannah.”

“I’m not trying to fight with you. I just want to understand.”

“I do too. That’s all I want. I want to understand why things turned out this way, because I honestly don’t know how much more I can take.”

Savannah put an arm around Rowan, who was on the brink of a meltdown, and cast an uneasy glance at the back of their poor driver’s head. This was the exact reaction she had been dreading, she realized. Not so much Rowan’s anger, but her utter devastation. It was always an automatic derail of whatever they were discussing. “I’m sorry. I know, I know. I don’t have any answers for that, hon. I wish I did.”

The rest of the ride was spent in silence while Rowan tried to stifle quiet tears and Savannah felt helpless to do anything that might make things better. Canceling on Mike and never seeing him or mentioning him again was probably the only thing that would. But she waited until they were back at the hotel and safe in Rowan’s room before she said, “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Rowan looked up from setting her shopping bags on the bed, eyes pink-lined and watery. “Huh?”

“Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll respect your wishes.” At that moment, she absolutely meant it.

Rowan, her bottom lip quivering, looked down at her assortment of bags and shrugged while Savannah held her breath. “Well,” she said at last, her gaze flickering up to meet Savannah’s, “I guess it would be a shame to let that dress go to waste.”