Say You're Sorry (Romantic Suspense, #22; Sacramento, #1)

Daisy looked up from Sasha’s laptop, happy to see her friend leaning against the door frame of the Sokolovs’ spare bedroom, a mug in one hand and a teapot in the other. The cheery room with its whimsical wall murals was where Daisy slept whenever she stayed over.


“Do you need your laptop back?” Daisy asked, hoping Sasha would say no because her search on the locket had resulted in some fascinating reading.

Sasha shook her head. “Nope. I can use my tablet for e-mail.” She held up the teapot. “You want a refill? It’s that Sleepytime blend.”

“I don’t think sleep’s going to happen anytime soon,” Daisy muttered. “Why aren’t you in bed? You’re gonna be trashed tomorrow.”

“I called in, left a message that I’m taking a personal day.”

Daisy smiled, holding her mug for a refill after all. “You’re gonna be my bodyguard, huh?”

Sasha poured the tea, set the pot on the nightstand, then sat cross-legged on the bed next to where Brutus lay curled up in a puff of fur. Absently petting the dog’s ears, she studied Daisy’s face for a long moment. “What didn’t you tell us earlier? And don’t try to bullshit me, DD. You are really bad at it. Tell me what you were holding back.”

Daisy’s gaze dropped to the laptop’s screen, knowing exactly why she hadn’t shared all the evening’s events. Irina had been trying to set her up with Gideon for months and both she and Gideon had been resisting. Daisy hadn’t told them about Gideon because she simply didn’t have the emotional energy to deal with Irina’s well-meaning matchmaking tonight. But she trusted Sasha. She always had, even when they were kids telling secrets in a dark tent in the Sokolovs’ backyard, a flashlight their only illumination. They’d told ghost stories, complained about school, and right after her mother had died, Sasha had hugged her while she’d cried her grief.

“I met Gideon Reynolds tonight.” Daisy glanced up to see Sasha blinking with surprise. “At the police station,” she clarified.

“Gideon? What was he doing there?”

“Rafe asked him to come.” She clicked into her e-mail and brought up the photo of the locket that Trish had taken at the scene. “I grabbed this off the man’s neck tonight. The man who tried to attack me.”

“Who did attack you,” Sasha murmured, focusing on the photo. “What is it?”

“A locket. It was engraved. At first I thought Gideon was there because the man had mentioned others and that maybe Gideon was investigating a serial rapist or murderer or something. But he said he was there because of the locket. It . . . hurt him. Somehow. I want to know why.”

Sasha’s eyes narrowed in thought then abruptly popped wide. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “It was his tattoo. I remember it.”

That had not been what Daisy was expecting. “Gideon had a tattoo with this design?”

Sasha nodded. “I was young when I last saw it—maybe twelve or so?—but I remember it. Back then I was fascinated by Gideon. I followed him and Rafe around everywhere.”

Daisy felt a stirring of something foreign in her chest. Something not very nice. Something like jealousy? her small voice asked.

Shut up. I have no claim to him. Don’t be ridiculous. And anyway, there was no way Sasha had a thing for Gideon Reynolds, not now or back then.

“Why?” she asked carefully.

Sasha laughed. “If you could see your face right now. Do not play poker, DD. Ever. You realize that I’m gay, right? I was then, too.”

Daisy’s cheeks heated. “I know that,” she said defensively. “Why were you fascinated with him?”

“It was a slight hero worship thing. I mean, all I knew was our family and we’re . . . well, we’re us. We’re loud and crazy and out there.”

“I remember,” Daisy said with a smile. “I always wished I could live with you.” Especially after her father had dragged them into the middle of nowhere. “I had Taylor and I love her to bits, but there was always something fun happening in this house and ours was . . .” She shrugged.

“Rigid,” Sasha supplied. “I always wondered if our fathers weren’t switched at birth. You hear about stoic Russians, but your dad got all the stoic and mine got none.” She sighed. “Everything was always this colorful chaos. Sometimes it would be too loud and I’d crawl off to the attic to hide in my nook. One day—I would have been about nine because Rafe had just started high school—he brings this kid home to work on a science project. He was this dark, mysterious stranger.”

“Gideon.”

“Yeah. Never said a word, but his eyes said a lot. Most of it didn’t seem too good. Nobody ever said he’d been hurt, not when I was around to hear, anyway. But it just rolled off him in waves. He was intense and angry. Rafe kept bringing him around and my mom kept clucking over him, making him his favorite treats and just being herself.”

Daisy smiled at this. Irina was a treasure, for sure. “You’re so lucky.”

Sasha smiled back. “I know. I asked her why Gideon didn’t just come live with us. I remember thinking, hey, we got eight kids, what’s one more?”

Daisy laughed. “Considering Zoya would have been a toddler then, I imagine that went over well. What did your mom say?”

“It did go over well, actually. She said that Gideon had a home in foster care, but if he ever wanted to move in, he’d be welcome. I think I was in awe of Gideon because he was so buttoned-down. He wasn’t broadcasting his feelings all over the place. I felt like I was the same way a lot of the time, like I didn’t belong in this house of craziness. One day I was creeping up to my attic nook and I found him there. Just chilling, you know? I sat next to him and we were quiet together for the longest time. Then he patted my head and thanked me for sharing my space with him. I told him to use it anytime, that I’d keep his secret.” Her expression grew sad. “He got this look in his eyes, like I’d punched him in the gut. He just thanked me again and left. The next time I went up there I found a flower from my mother’s garden on the window seat and a note that said ‘I’ll keep yours, too.’ I knew it was from him. After that, I’d find a flower there and I knew he’d been there. Sometimes we sat there together.” One side of her mouth lifted. “I came out to him, first of everyone.”

Daisy smiled sadly, because it was bittersweet. She was glad that Sasha had had a confidante, but sad that it hadn’t been her. She’d been on the ranch by then. “Really?”

“Yep. I was fourteen and he was home from college for Christmas. I trusted him not to tell. The man is a vault.”

“Really?” Daisy asked again, this time in disbelief. “He let a few things slip tonight. I got the impression he hadn’t intended to say them.”

“Like?”

“Like that he’d come to the police station because of the locket. I don’t think he wanted to say that and I think Rafe was surprised he had as well. I kept trying to ask about it, but either he, Rafe, or Erin would try to distract me.”

“So you’re researching it yourself?”

“Of course,” Daisy answered matter-of-factly.

“Of course,” Sasha repeated wryly. “What else did he not mean to say?”

Daisy had no qualms about telling Sasha any of this, because her friend was also a vault. “The forensics person found a wedding photo in the locket. The girl was way too young, like twelve or thirteen. Gideon had known her. He reacted most strongly to the man in the photo. Blurted out that he was dead. And then he seemed to . . . go somewhere. In his head.”

“Wow. For Gideon, that’s a hell of a lot. He must have been rattled.” Sasha returned her attention to the photo of the locket on the laptop screen. “He had this tattoo for a long time. Right here.” She patted the left side of her chest, above her breast. “I didn’t know he had a tattoo for the first few years, because he’d never taken off his shirt around us. One day we were at the river, tubing, and we all stripped down so we all saw it. I remember wanting one and my mother said no. I didn’t throw many fits, but I threw one over that. Gideon told me later, when it was just the two of us, that I should listen to my mom. That he wished he didn’t have the tattoo. When I asked Rafe about it, he said Gideon had had it since he’d known him. So at least since they were fourteen.”

Daisy shook her head. “Who would allow a fourteen-year-old boy to get a tattoo?”

“I know, right? But I got the idea that getting it hadn’t been his idea. He got it covered when he was eighteen. Something terrible had happened because Gideon was a mess, but I don’t know what it was. Rafe knows, but he wouldn’t spill. He said it was Gideon’s story to tell. But after that, the tat was gone and now he’s got a phoenix.”

“Rising from the ashes,” Daisy murmured. “Not a difficult metaphor to parse.”

“Nope.” Sasha handed the laptop back to Daisy. “What have you turned up on the locket’s design?”

“It’s definitely religious in nature. The two kids praying is a dead giveaway, for sure. The tree is an olive tree, I think. The angel has a flaming sword.”