“So now you’re getting personal?”
“Don’t get smart, Sawyer. You’ve just told me a woman I’ve worked alongside for the last three years is your sister. Violet’s a sweetheart and she’s never mentioned you once. Why?”
He shrugged. He really didn’t want to have this conversation. It was way too uncomfortable. And it was bringing up a whole load of guilt that he really didn’t want to consider. “It’s complicated.”
Now she looked angry. That middle-of-the-night woman angry. Never a good sign. “Don’t give me the ‘it’s complicated’ crap.” She raised her fingers in the air again. “Tell me why on earth she would keep something like that secret? Maybe Evan Hunter was right—maybe we should be looking a little closer at you.”
He could feel the pent-up anger build in his chest. His temper was about to flare. Here. In the middle of the hospital. In the middle of a crisis situation.
He turned and flipped on the light, walking over to the nearby sink and running the cold tap. He bent over and started splashing water on his face. How dared she? That was almost an implication that he was involved in this crisis situation.
This woman didn’t know him at all. Didn’t know anything but hearsay and gossip. If she knew even the tiniest part of him she’d know he’d do anything to get out of here.
He could feel the pressure building in his chest. Wasn’t it bad enough that she’d just reminded him how guilty he felt about pushing his family—and his sister—away? He felt as if a truckload of concrete had just been dumped on his head.
As if this situation wasn’t already bad enough.
Now she was making him think about things he’d spent the last six years pushing away.
He grabbed some paper towels and dried his face. Breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth. The flare was reducing. He didn’t feel the urge to hit a wall any more. He was trying to think reasonable, rational thoughts.
But Callie Turner was still there. Wondering what she’d just witnessed.
He turned to face her. “Try walking in Violet’s shoes for a while, Callie. Her brother’s reputation is in the doghouse and she’s just about to start her residency at the DPA. You know how important that is so why would you do anything to spoil it?”
She took a deep breath. He’d looked so angry a second ago.
But no wonder. She’d said something completely unforgiveable. She’d more or less accused him of being responsible for the smallpox outbreak. And he obviously wasn’t.
Callum had already told her how difficult this would be for Sawyer. He was the one person here with more experience than her. Whether she liked it or not, she needed him. The last thing she should be doing was insulting him.
And more to the point, he was right. She hadn’t told anyone about Isabel. She couldn’t have dealt with the reaction that she’d been in a car crash that had killed her sister—a sister who would have given anything to work at the DPA. She hadn’t let anyone in on her secret. Why should Violet?
She was telling herself to be reasonable and rational.
But something was skewing her thought processes. He had a sister. And it had caught her unawares.
It seemed ridiculous. Half the world had a sister. But most of the time she was prepared. She was ready. This time she hadn’t been.
It didn’t help that Violet Connelly was one of the sweetest people she knew. Not unlike Isabel. The fist squeezed around her heart even tighter.
She met his gaze. His face was flushed; he was still holding back his anger.
She’d kept her family secret too. She hadn’t done anything to spoil her job at the DPA. She hadn’t gone to her interview and said, Well, actually, this was my sister Isabel’s dream and since I was driving the car that killed her I feel I owe it to her.
She took a deep breath, “I guess I wouldn’t do anything to spoil it,” she murmured.
He moved closer to her, the edges of his hair now wet around his face. “Our mum got remarried when I was a teenager. Violet was still quite young—she changed her name to our stepfather’s. I didn’t.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “What? You mean you were a rebellious teenager, Sawyer?” Anything to lighten the mood, anything to ease the tension in the room that was still bubbling away in her stomach. Anything to release the squeezing around her heart.
He nodded slowly. Then something else jarred into her mind.
“Does Evan Hunter know Violet’s your sister?” She’d spoken to him numerous times on the phone today. “It was Evan that wanted you checked out.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know that. Evan and I go way back. I haven’t had a chance to phone Violet yet. I meant to, I just got caught up in everything. She’s texted me and called me. She must have heard my name mentioned at the DPA. I need to fill her in on the details.”
“You mean she didn’t know you were here?” She couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice. Why on earth would his sister not know where was?
He hesitated and for a second looked kind of sheepish. For a man with a reputation as a bad boy it almost didn’t fit.
“I kind of dropped off the radar.”
No. She didn’t get this. She didn’t get this at all.
“What do you mean? I know you didn’t tell anyone at the DPA where you were—in a way, I almost kind of get that. But your sister? Your own sister, Matt?”
Her voice was raised. She couldn’t help it. He had a sister. He had options. Options she didn’t have.
How on earth could he do that? How long had he been off the radar? Six years?
Six years of no contact? It was unthinkable.
Her voice was shaking. “How could you do that, Matt? You have a sister who clearly loves you. She must have been frantic with worry. She’s still frantic with worry. Why would you do that to her? Why would you put her through that?”
There it was again. That action. The one he always did when he was thinking of an answer. He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
She stepped right up to him. “Really? How? How is it not as bad as it sounds? Explain to me, Matt.”
She was mad. She could never have done that. Never have cut Isabel out of her life for six years. It was unthinkable.
Nearly as unthinkable as being responsible for her own sister’s death.
“I texted her. Not often. Just every now and then to let her know I was safe.”
“And that was supposed to be good enough?”
He flung his hands up in frustration and shouted, “You don’t know, Callie. You don’t know anything. That was as much as I could manage. I needed time. I needed space. I didn’t want anything familiar around me. I wanted to get my head straight.”
“For six years?” She was shouting back.
His lips tightened. She knew there were tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She couldn’t help it. What a waste. He’d dared to risk his relationship with his sister.
A relationship she’d give anything to have again. It made her hate him.
“Not everything in life is part of a plan, Callie. Maybe if you get some life experience, you’ll find that out.”
She felt as if he’d just punched her in the ribs.
He couldn’t be more wrong if he’d tried.
But, right now, in the middle of the night, she was hardly going to fill in the blanks to a man she hardly knew.
It was time to get some perspective. He had no idea how much those words had hurt. And she’d no intention of telling him.
Distance. That’s what she needed.
Being in an enclosed space with Matt Sawyer was doing weird things to her. Being in an enforced quarantine for up to eighteen days would plain drive her crazy.
“Sawyer!”
The shout came