No One Knows

by J. T. Ellison

  Josh?

  She sighed, heavy and impatient. How many times were they going to go through this?

  “Daisy, Josh is dead.”

  Her tone lacked conviction, and Daisy started a string of blinks indicating emphatic nos.

  “The man you saw here isn’t Josh. That’s Chase. He’s my friend, my . . . boyfriend. He’s a freelance writer from Chicago. Josh passed away five years ago.”

  Daisy waved the pen toward the pad again. Aubrey obliged, and the older woman wrote some more. Her hand fell to her side, limp. Aubrey looked at the pad again.

  Not dead.

  Jesus. What the hell was going on today?

  She patted Daisy’s arm and nodded. “Okay, Daisy. Time for you to get some sleep.”

  She started to press Daisy’s morphine button, but Daisy had already closed her eyes and was starting to drift.

  Aubrey stepped back to her uncomfortable chair and wedged herself on the cushion, legs drawn up underneath her.

  What had just happened? Who was the man who’d appeared downstairs, asking about Josh? And why did he seem so familiar?

  She picked up the coffee-stained card gingerly, as if it were a bomb that might go off. DC Investigations—Private, Secure, Discreet. There was no address, just a handwritten phone number, the last three digits smeared out of recognition from the coffee spill. Shit. She held it to the light. Maybe that last number was a seven, or a four? She turned the card over and saw a name written on the back.

  Derek Allen.

  She knew that name. But where from?

  Damn it, she shouldn’t have taken the pills. They made her foggy, and she suddenly realized she needed to be sharp right now.

  She shook her head. This was all crazy. Utterly nuts. She couldn’t go through this again. She knew Josh was gone. Knew it in her soul.

  So why were two people suddenly claiming he was still alive?

  She looked blindly out into the blank night. The answers were there, if she was willing to face them. And Derek Allen was the key.

  CHAPTER 30

  After several hours of worrying, and shaking off the fear that crowded in to fuel her nightmares, Aubrey finally fell asleep in the hospital chair. She managed to stay under for a full hour. When she woke, the sun slinking through the blinds, she had a sleepy thought: Keep her head in the sand. Dismiss the craziness from last night as exactly that. The guy from the cafeteria was wrong. And Daisy, well, Daisy had suffered a head injury. Insisting Josh was alive . . .

  So much for running from the truth.

  Aubrey awakened more fully, finally allowing the thoughts she’d been trying to pretend she wasn’t having to come to the fore.

  There was a clear resemblance between Josh and Chase. She’d seen it from the very beginning; that’s what had intrigued her in the first place. It wasn’t looks: Josh was fair, with blue eyes and brown hair. Chase had darker skin, not tan, just more olive, with coffee-colored eyes and blond hair. The basics were different. The bone structure was different. But there was something similar in the way they walked, the way they talked, the way they kissed, the way they made love. Something similar, but so very different.

  Josh had a scar on the inside of his right thigh, and a constellation of freckles on his back with which Aubrey, for fun, used to play connect the dots. The result was a lopsided Mickey Mouse. Chase didn’t have freckles on his back or a scar on his thigh. She’d seen both areas and she knew they weren’t there.

  The whole idea that Josh was Chase, that Chase was Josh, was ridiculous.

  So why was she sitting in her mother-in-law’s hospital room wondering if it was possible? And trying desperately to deny the fact that somewhere, deep inside, she wished it were true?

  Reality check, Aubrey.

  She’d spent years making Faustian bargains with God, offering to do almost anything to get Josh back. And now, now that she’d finally started to sew up the gaping hole in her heart, she had a chance to start over, and she’d be damned if she was going to let it pass her by.

  Chase had woken her from a deep sleep. They’d been talking, a lot, about her past and her life, about his dreams for the future. Even about Josh. She was developing real feelings for him, strong, raw, and unrestrained emotions. Emotions she almost didn’t recognize as possible to belong to her. Emotions that made her feel alive again.

  Continuing to see him, to allow her heart free rein, was a disaster in the making. But the thought of never seeing him again, never being with him, hurt. She had to find a way to continue the affair and protect her fragile heart at the same time.

  She’d never been without Josh. Even in death, he’d been as real and tangible to her as if he’d been alive, whispering in her ear. But a part of her had never forgiven him for leaving. For dying. My God, what if she had been found guilty and had gone to jail for murder?

  She shuddered. It wasn’t the first time she’d played the what-if game. But now, she had a path out. She couldn’t—no, she wouldn’t—let anyone ruin this for her.

  She turned the card over in her hands. The day Josh was declared dead, Chase showed up. And only a few days later, here was another guy appearing out of the blue, giving her a card with the name Derek Allen, offering answers. It was time to take off the blinders. Hiding the truth from herself wasn’t going to work anymore. She didn’t want to drag herself through it all again, but she’d be damned if she would miss an opportunity to find out exactly what had happened to Josh.

  But she was going to need help. She couldn’t do this alone.

  She needed Tyler.

  CHAPTER 31

  Josh

  Fifteen Years Ago

  “Yo, Hamilton. Tonight’s the night, huh? You finally gonna bone that girl or what?”

  Josh pushed against the lineman, forcing him back into the secondary.

  “Fuck you, Kowalski.” Josh wrenched the older, bigger boy to the ground. The whistle sounded. The coach shouted, “All right, all right, line up again. Hamilton, quit jawing with Kowalski. Cover Sulman.”

  Josh gave Kowalski one last hard shake, then turned to Kevin Sulman. Arlo lined up next to him this time.

  “Let’s tag-team his pansy ass.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  The whistle sounded and they attacked, tossing Sulman to the ground like a sack of air. He was no match for the two of them together.

  Josh had put on a solid twenty pounds of muscle since the beginning of the summer training season and, thankfully, started a growth spurt that had him eye-to-eye with Arlo. That wasn’t all that was right with his world. Freshman and sophomore years were over, he was moving on to his junior year, he was on the varsity football team, and Aubrey would be starting as a freshman in the fall. Josh’s grades were top notch, football was going great, and he was being pushed to consider running for class president. Arlo Tonturian and Kevin Sulman, his two best friends, would be graduating after this year, and he’d most likely be made captain of the team for his senior year. With any luck, he’d get a football scholarship and have a full ride for undergrad before he started the long slog through medical school.

  Everything was perfect. Absolutely perfect. And there was one thing that was going to make it even better.

  Tonight, he had a date with Aubrey.

  The date.

  His mom and dad were out of town. He’d sworn up, down, and sideways he wouldn’t have anyone—“That means Aubrey, too, Josh, especially her”—over to the house. But fuck that shit. He wasn’t about to lose this opportunity. He wanted their first time to be perfect, special, and he’d be damned if he was going to let an empty house go to waste.

  He was buzzing with anticipation. Literally felt his skin shivering. Arlo and Kevin knew what was up; they’d been teasing him all afternoon. “Don’t you want to wait for prom? Won’t that make it the most perfect night ever?”
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br />   “Fuck off,” he’d told them with a grin. He didn’t care if they wanted to tease him. He knew they would stand by him, thick or thin. They loved Aubrey as much as he did. She did that to people. You couldn’t help yourself from falling in love with her.

  Everyone except his mom. Daisy continued to despise Aubrey with a passion. He could never figure out why. He knew the surface reasons: she’d hated Aubrey’s real mom, hated that Aubrey was a foster child, that she lived in a bad part of town (Daisy was a complete snob; anything that wasn’t considered a feeder neighborhood for the country club was immediately labeled “bad”), that she didn’t have money, like that was a fourteen-year-old girl’s fault. Money was vital to Daisy, and she always wanted to be richer than she was. Appearances were everything to her. Coveting was her favorite pastime. She took keeping up with the Joneses to previously unknown levels.

  But the true reason for her enmity eluded him. Aubrey had never been anything but sweet and respectful with Daisy, a little shy even, but she’d been treated like hell for years.

  Not like he was going to ask and open that can of worms. He just did his best not to mention when he was going to be with Aubrey, and he called her instead of her calling him. Daisy wasn’t mellowing, but she was calming down a bit. Slightly. She could still go nuclear at a moment’s notice if caught at the wrong time.

  Daisy didn’t seem to realize that Josh was tied to Aubrey in ways even he didn’t completely understand. She’d just shake her head when she looked at him getting ready to go out, carefully shaved and combed and tucked, and spit venom at him. “That girl is trouble, Josh. She’s no good. She’s going to drag you down with her one of these days.”

  Thinking about the animosity between his mother and Aubrey upset him, and he missed an easy tackle. He forced it from his mind and tried to focus on football.

  He didn’t think practice was ever going to end, but it did, finally, and he hit the showers and dressed as fast as he could. He needed to pick up a few things for their night together, and he only had an hour before she was supposed to come over.

  Arlo had secured him some beer, but he drew the line at buying his friends’ personal protection. Josh needed to stop at Walgreens and pick up condoms. Aubrey was on the pill—the school nurse gave them out like they were raspberry Pez—but Arlo had told him that the first time was often hard on a girl and a little extra lube could go a long way toward making things easier.

  Arlo had deflowered enough virgins around school that Josh didn’t question the advice, but scooted to the back aisle and looked for the words spermicidal lubricant on the Trojan box. Only Trojans would do—big ones, he had that clear in his mind, at least.

  The pharmacist narrowed his eyes at Josh but didn’t say a word, rang up the purchase and put it in one of those white plastic bags that were so thin they were practically clear. The ones that fairly screamed, Look, look! I have something private and embarrassing inside me!

  The mortification over, he swung by Publix and grabbed a spray of roses and a frozen pizza. Plus Moose Tracks ice cream—Aubrey’s favorite.

  When he got home he busied himself with setting things up: flowers in a vase, candles on the table, pizza in the oven, beer in the fridge, ice cream in the freezer, condoms in the drawer next to his bed. He went up and shaved, just to be doubly smooth, and spent ten minutes deciding which T-shirt to wear.

  At seven on the dot the doorbell rang, and Josh, clad in jeans and a black Pixies tee, launched himself down the stairs.

  Aubrey was on the step, looking demure in a white dress and sandals. He nearly grabbed her and dragged her straight upstairs, but he had a protocol to follow.

  They ate and laughed and were shy with each other. Aubrey drank a beer and got giggly. Josh drank one and got anxious. What if he wasn’t any good? What if he really did hurt her?

  He had another, and some of the fears were assuaged. Tipsy, they ran upstairs, and Josh coaxed Aubrey into trying on some of Daisy’s things. Pretty clothes, jewelry. A pearl ring he’d always liked. Things he couldn’t give her. Not yet.

  She twirled around like a ballerina in his mother’s favorite red chiffon dress, looking for all the world like a model. As he admired her, she twirled right into the dresser, knocking a slew of perfume bottles onto the floor. “Whoops!” She giggled, bending over to pick them up. Too big, the dress slid off her shoulders, and he was suddenly face-to-face with Aubrey’s smooth white back.

  Do it. Do it now.

  He took a step toward her, and she looked back over her shoulder at him, stripped off the dress, grabbed her clothes, and ran, laughing, downstairs.

  Leaving the disarray to clean up later, he followed.

  He found Aubrey in the living room, wearing only a bra and panties. He had planned to start the evening here anyway.

  He turned on some music, watching her edge around the room. She suddenly looked nervous, so he offered her another beer. She drank it, eyeing him over the edge of the can.

  He sat down on the couch and patted the seat next to him. Aubrey joined him. They kissed for what seemed like years. Aubrey followed his lead with each step, and when his jeans were unbuttoned and her smooth hands were buried in his shorts and wrapped around his cock, he slid a finger inside her. They’d gone this far before, so he waited to see what she would do.

  She kissed him again, then looked deep into his eyes.

  “Get naked,” she whispered.

  “Let’s go back upstairs,” he replied.

  “No. I don’t want to move.”

  He understood that sentiment. He kept one finger inside her and used his other hand to shed the rest of her garments. She did the same for him, pulling off his jeans and boxers, and he realized this was happening, it was really happening. He lay down with her, skin to skin, legs to legs, belly to belly.

  “Now,” she whispered.

  “I need a condom.”

  “I’m on the pill. It’s fine. I don’t want one.”

  “But it will hurt.”

  She shushed him with a kiss and reached between his legs. Her touch burned, and he didn’t need any more coaxing. He used his thigh to spread her knees, then on a whim, scooted down and licked her. The taste was foreign, salt and silver and smooth, and he did it again, enjoying the sensation of her moving beneath him. It was the most intimate thing he’d ever done, and he was shocked when she moaned a little, like she was enjoying it. So he did it again, and again, and again, until his head started to swim.

  Then he slid up her body and placed the tip of his cock against the spot he’d been licking. Aubrey hesitated for a moment, he felt her shift a bit and the smooth muscle of her thighs contract, but then she sighed and relaxed her legs apart. He started in, and the sensation blew his mind. Silk and soft and the richest warmth he’d ever felt. Dear God, no wonder people were obsessed with this. Aubrey gasped a little and tensed, then pulled him against her, hard, and before he knew it he was inside her all the way.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, not moving, totally breathless.

  “Go,” she replied, so he did, sliding in and out, gritting his teeth as the sensations started to flood him. He couldn’t help himself; he couldn’t stop. He went faster and faster until everything exploded. It took him a full minute to come back down to earth.

  When he could focus again, he saw Aubrey was looking up at him with a huge grin on her face.

  “We should do that again.” She smoothed a kiss against his lips.

  “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you?”

  “I love you, Josh. You could never hurt me.”

  He disentangled himself from her reluctantly. She looked like the Cheshire cat, happy and pleased with herself. He felt like a king. An emperor. This was his woman, and he’d just taken her. They’d been swept up in the moment and didn’t even need the condom.

  He pulled Aubrey into his arms and kissed her, wit
h every intention of following up his inaugural performance with another, one that might last a bit longer. He was hard again so fast and above her, ready, when the voice froze him in place.

  “Joshua David Hamilton! What in the name of God are you doing?”

  Move. Move, Josh.

  Aubrey’s arms fell away from his back, and he jumped up from the couch to see Daisy standing in the door to the living room, her face aghast.

  “Oh, shit,” Aubrey said, and that did it. Daisy went ballistic. But she didn’t curse at Josh, or hit him, or any of the things he expected. Instead, she marched to the phone and dialed. She pointed a finger at Aubrey, who was trying to get into her bra. “I’m done with you, missy.”

  “Mom, relax. We were just—”

  “I know exactly what you were doing with that little slut. I saw my bedroom. Letting her try on my clothes? Having sex with her on my couch? You’re disgusting. Yes, police?”

  “Mom—”

  “Mrs. Hamilton—”

  “Shut it, both of you. Yes, ma’am. I’ve just returned home to find that my house has been broken into. I have the girl who did it here in my living room. I insist you send a patrol car to arrest her immediately. She’s underage, and it looks like she brought alcohol in the house as well. Yes. Yes, I have her name. Aubrey Trenton.”

  Daisy hung up the phone with a manic gleam in her eyes.

  “You’ve got it coming,” she spit at Aubrey. “Josh, you are grounded, and I forbid you from seeing this girl ever again.”

  “Mom, you’re overreacting.”

  Daisy ignored him, went to guard the front door.

  Aubrey was crying. Josh was torn. Calm his mother, get her to cancel her threats, call off the police—Jesus, she’d called the cops?—or comfort Aubrey. He chose Aubrey, tried to put his arms around her, but she stood, frozen, a statue in his living room. Heard a little gasp come from his mother, like she’d been cut with a knife, ignored it.