FRAGMENTED Page 9

  * * *

  Later that evening, I’m sitting on the motel bed, staring sightlessly at the TV that I’d turned on hours ago. There was no way I was going to step foot back on the estate until I am certain Brick has gone away. I’m not even sure I can work up the nerve to go back, but that’s not a decision that needs to be made right this minute. I have the night to sleep on it.

  At least most of my tests had come back negative. I’ll have to call back for the rest of my test results in a few days. The waiting is difficult, but I’m trying to remain positive.

  My thoughts shift back to Brick—whose face is the same as Knight’s and Nathan’s. It was difficult to hear such harshness come from lips that had been so kind to me. Lips that had assured me that my past didn’t matter, lips that had kissed mine—finding me attractive even after knowing what kind of life I’ve led.

  Cameron had warned me that the job wouldn’t be easy, and he was right. I hadn’t fully understood how quickly things could change until Brick verbally attacked me today. It’s hard to believe that the cruel personality I’d witnessed is somehow a part of Nathan.

  I sigh and turn away from the TV, lying down on the bed. After tucking my hands beneath the pillow, I face the alarm clock on the nightstand. Everything that was said to me today has left more gaps in my already tattered pride.

  Is this job worth it if I lose myself along the way? If Brick makes another appearance, can I handle the onslaught of cruelness?

  Most importantly, is this job going to build me up or tear me down?

  ELEVEN

  Elena

  Nerves have wound knots in my stomach as the taxi drives up to the gated entrance of the neighborhood I’d fled from yesterday. Part of me never wants to go back while the rational side reminds me that Brick rarely appears. Not only that, but Knight has shown me nothing but kindness, and Nathan was slowly growing accustomed to my presence.

  The fact is, I need this job.

  At the gate, the guard recognizes me but still has to call up to the estate since I have yet to be given a pass card that would get me back and forth without needing permission. I understand that trust like that needs to be earned, and I’m nowhere close to gaining it.

  Thankfully, the guard motions us through the gate. For a moment, I’d been worried that I’d be turned away—permanently. The taxi makes its way up to the Lancaster estate, and after I pay the driver, he drives off as I warily walk towards the main entrance.

  Much to my surprise, I find Cameron standing just outside the door, arms crossed as he watches me approach.

  Maybe I am getting fired.

  When I reach him, he reaches for the door and opens it, motioning for me to step inside. I expel a silent breath and look around nervously. Is Brick still lurking around?

  Cameron closes the door behind us. “We weren’t sure if you’d be coming back,” he comments.

  “Disappointed?” I ask, trying to make light of the situation.

  His eyes remain serious as they hold mine. “Not at all, Elena. You didn’t deserve what happened yesterday.”

  I’m surprised and warmed by his response, and I once more look around the foyer. “Is he still…?”

  “No,” he assures.

  “Nathan?” I question.

  “Oliver,” he corrects.

  “Oh.” Oliver. The seventeen-year-old. Another alter to meet, and I’m still reeling from yesterday’s initial meeting with Brick. I’m not sure I’m ready for this. I was expecting Nathan or Knight, but not another new personality.

  “Let’s go talk in private,” Cameron suggests. “I think after yesterday; you’ve earned the right to ask me any further questions that you might have.”

  Relief floods me, and I can’t keep it off my face. My job is obviously still intact. “Thank you, that would be great.”

  Cameron leads me to the office. Like the rest of the rooms on the estate, it has light walls and large windows to allow the sunlight to filter into the room. It’s tastefully decorated with a masculine simplicity that is appealing to the eye. Shelves take up space along one wall, but instead of being crammed to capacity with books, the shelves are mostly empty with only a few books artfully situated here and there. A flat-screen TV is located on the opposite wall, and with the exception of the chair behind the desk—which is always neat and tidy hiding most essential items within its drawers, there’s only one other chair in the room.

  I’ve cleaned this office plenty of times, but I’m not sure who uses it. I’m assuming Corbin? Or is the office Griffin or Cameron’s? I haven’t been nosy enough to inquire.

  Instead of seating himself behind the desk, Cameron moves to the extra chair located near one of the large windows and politely waits for me to take a seat. Once I’m seated, he retrieves the desk chair and brings it over so he can sit across from me. He then remains silent as he looks at me expectantly. He’s kindly allowing me to control the conversation, and I appreciate that.

  “What can I expect from Oliver?” I ask curiously.

  “Oliver typically appears right after Brick. I don’t think Nathan is equipped to handle that kind of fallout, and Knight’s view on things is so black and white that he’d just make things worse. Oliver usually appears so that everyone can have a breather,” he explains.

  “Why is he seventeen? I did research,” I quickly add. “I know child alters are common, but Oliver isn’t really a child or an adult.”

  Cameron nods in agreement. “From what we’ve gathered during one of Nathan’s brief stints in therapy, Oliver was Nathan’s age when he appeared after Nathan’s family died,” he says tactfully, choosing not to bring up how they’d lost their lives.

  I nod so that he knows I’m with him so far.

  “Oliver was considered an imaginary friend and a coping mechanism of sorts to help Nathan with the trauma he’d witnessed. Nathan’s uncle and his wife didn’t think anything of it. That is until Nathan began acting out in his teens. Everyone had assumed Oliver had faded as Nathan matured, but the truth was, Knight developed, and both Knight and Oliver were taking over when Nathan couldn’t handle the pressures of his life.”

  I frown. “But if Oliver was considered an imaginary friend early on, does that mean they were co-conscious?”

  “Maybe at some point, but then Nathan became incredibly closed off. He’s certainly not co-conscious with any of the alters unless they’re close to the surface and about to switch. My point of this conversation is that Oliver has grown slowly,” he explains. “Evidently, Nathan and the others need Oliver’s innocence and his natural curiosity of the world. In a way, Oliver kind of regroups them and gets them all back on track when things become too rocky.”

  “That makes sense,” I agree.

  Cameron studies me. “Does it really?”

  I nod. “I’m doing my best to understand them.”

  Approval flashes in his gaze. “It’s good you’re not focused entirely on one of them. It’s important you get to know all of them on some level, excluding Brick, of course. No one can get along with him,” he says dryly. He continues, “Nathan may be in control most of the time and claim to hold all the cards, but the truth is, the one in control is the one that is present. Take care to remember that,” he warns.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I say quietly. “So Nathan’s been to therapy?”

  Cameron seems to debate my question. “This is the last question I’m going to answer in regards to his past. You need to focus on the present.”

  I nod in agreement.

  “Yes, he’s had therapy. Some of it was willing, some forced. Either way, the therapists never stuck, and he rejected it all.” Cameron sighs. “There is no written manual where DID is concerned. Every therapist has his or her own views on how to handle the disorder. Ultimately, it’s up to the one with the disorder to accept help, and I can tell you that Oliver was willing while the rest wanted no part of it.”

  I’m quiet as I process everything he’d told me. It’s nice hearing
someone else’s perspective on Nathan’s disorder.

  “As you’ve noticed, Nathan’s usually the one in control, and yet he struggles with his alters because he continuously rejects them. He’s a complicated man, Elena.”

  I can sense that the conversation is beginning to wind down, but I’m not ready to allow it to end. I shift on the chair and look at him with interest. “How did you meet them?” I ask, hoping that he’ll share a little of himself with me.

  Instead, Cameron’s expression shuts down. “That isn’t important.”

  Too much too soon. I’m disappointed, but I get it. Back to Oliver. “What should I expect?”

  “He’s a seventeen-year-old in the body of a man. He’s your average teen and into video games and exploring life.” He grimaces. “We try to rein him in since his actions are typically the opposite of a recluse.”

  “The public isn’t aware of Nathan’s disorder?”

  “No. The Lancaster’s want to keep that under wraps because of how high profile the company is. Nathan’s known for being anti-social and yet ambitious. There are whispers that he might have a substance addiction, but that’s half the population here in Los Angeles.”

  “True,” I agree.

  “My advice is let everything Brick said roll off your back and allow Oliver to ease that pain.” He shakes his head. “It’s impossible to be mad at that kid.”

  I’m certainly very curious about Oliver, and I’m glad that I’d decided to come back. “Is Oliver aware of what happened yesterday?”

  “I told him Knight hired you to maintain the estate and cook, and that yesterday was your personal day off and he’d meet you this morning.”

  My eyebrows lift. “I thought you said you weren’t certain I’d come back.”

  Something shifts in his gaze. “Truth is, you’ve accepted Nathan and the alters better than I’d expected. If you were going to run from them, you would have by now.”

  “Brick was pretty brutal,” I point out.

  “He was,” he agrees. “But I figured after you had some alone time, you’d shake it off. Which you did.”

  Not entirely. His harsh words will stay with me for a very long time to come.

  Cameron must be able to read my expression. “Elena, the whole reason for Brick’s existence is to release all that pent-up anger. Just because he said it doesn’t make it true.”

  “Nathan was mad, wasn’t he?” I ask softly.

  “He lost two days and learned an alter spent the night in jail. Hell, it even made the paper. Anger doesn’t begin to describe what he was feeling.”

  I fall quiet once more. Nathan had every right to be upset and to resent my role in what happened.

  “Why don’t you go freshen up, and come back when you’re ready to begin the day,” he suggests.

  Now, I feel sheepish for not arriving earlier. “Sorry I wasn’t here to make breakfast.”

  He actually smiles. “We survived just fine on our own before you came along.”

  I return his smile. “Thank you, Cameron,” I say quietly. This conversation has helped immensely and has filled in quite a few gaps where Nathan and the others are concerned.

  * * *

  A few hours later, I’m cleaning one of the bathrooms on the main floor. I still have yet to run into Oliver. After everything Cameron had told me, I’m already fascinated by the younger alter but not enough to search him out. I’d made a light lunch earlier, so I suppose his stomach will eventually bring him up from the theater room located in the lowest level of the estate.

  “I think it’s clean, or are you trying to push that thing through the pipe all the way to China?”

  I release a startled squeak as I drop the brush into the toilet and spin around, my hand going to my thundering chest. Oliver…stands there in the doorway, and a part of me somewhere inside flinches, because the man that stands before me hurt me deeply the day before…but yet he’s not Brick.

  He stands there, in all his bare-chested glory. Jeans hang low on his hips, and a backwards baseball cap hides his hair. The bare chest and jeans could have easily had me thinking he was Knight, but the baseball cap is something I know neither Knight nor Nathan would be caught dead wearing.

  “You scared the bejeebies out of me,” I manage to say as I force myself to ignore the bare skin and muscles on display. He’s seventeen, I remind myself.

  His brown eyes turn amused. “Bejeebies? That sounds like something an older lady would say.” His eyes run over me with interest. “Cam didn’t say you were young.”

  “My mom used to say it instead of cursing out loud.” I am thoroughly rattled by him. Yesterday, that mouth had spewed such terrible things, and now today, it’s teasing.

  “Did you make the chicken salad sandwiches?”

  “Yes…?” It comes out as a question.

  His dark eyes sober as he studies me. “Yesterday wasn’t a personal day, was it?”

  The question is unexpected, and I struggle to pull myself together. I’d thought my first meeting with Oliver would be different, and that I would be prepared. I wasn’t, but now I’m struggling to hide that fact. “What makes you ask that?” I ask lightly.

  He shrugs a bare shoulder. “Your demeanor and the look in your eyes. You had a run-in with Brick,” he guesses.

  “I did,” I admit.

  His perceptive eyes hold mine. “Yet you came back.”

  “I like my job.”

  His lips suddenly turn upwards into a grin, giving him an adorably boyish appearance. “I’m glad you did, or I would have missed out on those killer sandwiches.”

  My heart skips a beat. God, the man is handsome, and I need to remember that he currently has the mentality of a teenager. “I’ll be sure to make them more often.”

  “Good.” He scans the bathroom before his gaze returns to mine. “You done in here?”

  “Oh!” He probably needs to use it. “Yes, just let me put this away.” I grab the brush from out of the toilet and quickly turn, stuffing it into its base inside the cabinet. After I pick up the cleaning supply kit I carry with me from room to room, I slip past him and step out into the hall.

  Oliver turns off the light in the bathroom and steps back into the hallway to face me. “You need a break. Come on.” He begins heading down the hall, walking away from me and yet fully expecting me to follow.

  I stare after him as I struggle to keep up with the unusual conversation. Instead of following him, I remain rooted to the spot. “A break? I just started a few hours ago.”

  He doesn’t look back as he replies over his shoulder, “Who’s the boss and signs your paychecks?”

  I watch him disappear around the corner, and my eyebrows pinch together. I feel like I’ve entered the twilight zone.

  “Don’t make me come get you!” Oliver shouts, sounding even further away.

  I’m not quite sure what to do, so I begin walking down the hall with the kit, my face scrunched with confusion. Cameron hadn’t told me how I should handle Oliver.

  Griffin nearly runs into me as he comes around the corner of the hall that Oliver had disappeared around just moments earlier. “He referring to you?” he asks.

  “He wants me to take a break…” I look at him questioningly, waiting for him to tell me how I should handle Oliver’s lively personality.

  Much to my surprise, he looks amused. “Go with him, or he’ll nag you until you do.”

  “But my job…” I protest.

  “Includes socializing with your boss once in a while. Knight’s taken you out, remember? This isn’t an all work and no play scenario. He’s a kid, keep him entertained.”

  I give him an odd look before I continue on down the hall. I’m still thrown by this new turn of events, so I bring the cleaning kit with me as I make my way to the lowest level. I’m assuming he’s in the theater room.

  Sure enough, that’s exactly where I find him. The door is open, and a video game is frozen on the giant screen.

  “Took you long enough,�
� he jibes as he stands there, two video game controllers held in his hands.

  “You don’t sign my paychecks,” I counter back.

  “Technically, I do,” he says with a wink.

  I bend down and set the kit on the floor while I hide my reaction to his playfulness. A laidback Oliver is going to be hell on my hormones, but he’s off limits with a capital O.

  When I straighten, he motions to the screen with one of the controllers. “You have a preference?”

  “I’ve never played.”

  He stares at me as if I’ve just confessed that I used to have three heads and a tail. “Never?” he asks doubtfully.

  “Never,” I confirm.

  Oliver looks thoughtful and then chuckles lowly. “Perfect.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Griffin and Cam are boring as hell and playing with them is like playing against robots.”

  This draws a laugh from me, because I can completely visualize Oliver’s frustration with the two men. “And you think I’m going to be any better?”

  “You’re certainly nicer to look at,” he quips.

  “I am older than you,” I feel the need to point out.

  He holds out one of the remotes to me. “By how much?” he asks with interest.

  “Five years,” I reply, accepting the controller. What have I gotten myself into?

  “Still young and easily moldable.”

  “Moldable?” I ask, eyebrows lifting.

  He grins. “I’m going to turn you into a gamer.”

  * * *

  After everyone’s finished with the evening meal that I’d made, I move about the kitchen, cleaning. I’m really beginning to like Oliver. I’d played video games with him for three hours earlier before begging off to prepare supper.

  Oliver wanders into the kitchen. “What are your plans for this evening?”

  I continue wiping the island. “I’ll probably go to bed early.”