No One But You (Silver Springs #2)(38)

He thought about Sadie.

“Damn it, stop!” he growled at himself. There was no one around to hear him; he could do and say what he wanted. But no amount of censure seemed to change the pattern of his thoughts, not since last night. He’d had to put his sexuality on a shelf, had to focus on other things to survive. Now that the danger was past, and he was left to pick up the pieces, however, that all-too-human part of him was reasserting itself with a vengeance. Those gorgeous legs and what he might’ve found had he lifted that T-shirt she’d been wearing remained center stage in his mind, which affected other parts of his body, as well.

He should’ve hired someone else. A man.

Except he couldn’t hire a man to help bathe his sister...

As the sun moved higher in the sky, he found himself glancing toward the drive more and more frequently. He kept asking himself why it mattered to him what time Sadie arrived. She was going in to clean. It wasn’t as if they’d have much interaction. But he was looking forward to seeing her in spite of all that.

Shortly after noon, a car arrived, but it wasn’t Sadie. Although he couldn’t be sure, since he was standing at such a distance, Dawson was fairly certain it was Aiyana’s oldest two sons parking in his drive. He’d met them when he attended school at New Horizons Boys Ranch and had been friends with them ever since. Like Aiyana, they’d stood by him despite the doubt and suspicion he’d faced almost everywhere else, but he hadn’t spent any time with them since he’d been home. He’d been too focused on what he had to accomplish, too busy to even return their calls.

“I guess we have to drop by unannounced to get to speak to you,” Elijah said as they met halfway between the field where Dawson had been working and the drive where the Turners had parked.

“Sorry,” Dawson said. “It’s nothing personal.”

Elijah exchanged a knowing glance with Gavin. “We don’t doubt that. You’ve been through hell. I’m not sure I’d be particularly friendly after a year in jail, either.”

“Exactly,” Gavin chimed in.

“I figured you’d come around when you were ready—didn’t want to push,” Elijah continued. “But you know my mother.”

She’d tried to call him. He’d been meaning to get in touch... “Aiyana sent you?”

Elijah lifted a bucket. “With cleaning supplies.”

Dawson removed his cap and wiped the sweat from his brow. “She expects you to clean?”

“Just the...you know, the bedroom.”

Realization dawned. “The murder scene.”

“She asked us if we’d mind,” Gavin chimed in. “And we don’t.”

“Better us than you,” Elijah added. “She told us you were preserving it for some forensics expert, so we purposely held off to give you time. But if that’s happened already, we’d like to take care of the washing up for you.”

Gavin, who had a darker complexion and a smaller build, with tattoos covering both arms, propped his hands on his lean hips. “Has the forensics dude been here?”

Dawson nodded. “Guy by the name of Ed Shuler came out the day after I was released.”

Elijah spat in the dirt. “Good. He find anything that might be helpful?”

“Don’t know yet. He took all kinds of samples—fiber samples, wall swabs, drain swabs, blood samples, fabric samples and who knows what else. But he told me it could take months to process everything.”

Elijah frowned. “That’s disheartening.”

“Like everything else that’s happened this year,” he said.

“So now all you can do is wait?” Gavin chimed in.

Dawson shoved his hands into his pockets. “That’s about the sum of it.”

“But you’re done with the room, right?” Elijah asked. “Have you cleaned it yet?”

“Not yet.” Dawson knew it needed to be done—and before he brought Angela home. No one in his or her right mind would let him take custody of his sister with their parents’ blood still spattered all over the walls. But every time he decided to get scrubbing, he couldn’t quite bring himself to follow through. He hadn’t even been able to make himself go inside the room yet. The day he got home, he’d been physically ill, nauseous, as he climbed the stairs. That was why he’d locked their door—and tried to put what was behind it out of his mind. Even when he let Ed Shuler inside, he hadn’t gone in with him. He’d used some flimsy excuse that he had to take care of something else to get as far away as possible.

“So we can do that for you now?” Gavin pressed.

He almost said yes. He sure as hell didn’t want to do it himself. But washing up smacked too much of moving on, and moving on made him feel disloyal. “No. I’m not ready.”

“Not ready,” Elijah repeated.

“It’s complicated,” he said.

Elijah arched one eyebrow. “My mother’s afraid you’ll let what happened consume your life. On the chance you refused to let us clean, she told me to tell you that your parents loved you and would want what was best for you, and that might be letting go. She says she’d feel that way about us, if she were in your parents’ situation.”

“The killer took a year from you,” Gavin concurred. “Don’t let him take any more.”