Chase doesn’t exist anymore. There is only Josh.
He turned and saw her, and his face lit up in a smile. It wasn’t Josh’s face, not exactly, but it was his smile. She saw the years in that smile. She knew it was home. She was home.
The minute he saw her, his gait widened. His walk changed. She watched in fascination—he’d been doing it so she could spot him more easily, and now he went back to some sort of different stepping, so he’d disguised his most recognizable feature yet again.
She was impressed. It must have taken so much time to make all this work. His face, his voice, his walk.
But his face. His face was altered, somehow. Her Josh, but not her Josh. With the coloring, he looked oddly similar to Chase.
Chase, but not Chase.
Josh, but not Josh.
When she reached him, he handed her a ticket. “Follow me,” he said, then walked away. There was no grand reunion, no kissing and hugging and crying. She waited a moment, then followed. He headed toward the northbound trains. A heartbeat later, he grabbed her hand and changed directions, down a staircase. She followed him, confused, but realized quickly that he was throwing whoever might be on their trail off yet again.
When they were at the bottom of the stairs, out of sight, only then did he reach for her, pull her into his arms, and hold her tight. It felt so good, so right. She fit with him like she’d never fit with another.
This wasn’t happening. This had to be a dream. The meds had kicked in fully, and she felt their warm buzz.
It was all real. It was happening. He was back.
“Josh—” she started, but he shushed her.
“There will be plenty of time to talk later. I need to get us out of here.”
She understood. He needed to keep all of his senses about him to keep them safe.
She glanced around, taking in all the details. She’d read enough spy novels to know some of the tradecraft tricks, so she did her best to be subtle, glancing in the reflection of the parked train windows for people looking their way, looking for newspapers upside down in a signal or chalk marks on the station walls they passed.
She saw nothing.
He led her out the side entrance and up to Charlotte Avenue, where they caught a cab east toward the airport. Josh had the cabbie drop them off in the long-term parking lot. As the cab left, he took her hand again and they jogged to the short-term lot. After a moment, he veered off, back to the main parking lot. There was a black SUV in a slot. Josh pulled the keys from his pocket and gave them to her.
“You drive.”
He climbed in the backseat.
“Where am I going?”
“The private airport, John C. Tune, off White Bridge Road.”
She tried to talk as she drove, tried to ask questions. But Josh kept telling her there would be time for them to catch up later, and to pay attention to her driving.
Traffic was light. Twenty minutes later, they were on a small jet, buckled in, the plane in the air, and she finally saw his hands relax.
“Now can we talk?” she asked.
“Not just yet.”
The excitement and drama was turning to annoyance. She wanted answers. She wanted a lot of things.
“Just tell me this. Why?”
He held her hand, tracing his fingers along hers. The familiarity was disconcerting. It felt so right, and so very wrong. Josh gestured to the pilot. “Please, baby. Not until we’re safe. Alone.”
He handed her a bottle of water, which she drank greedily. When she put it down, he pulled her close, into his arms. Stared into her eyes. Put his hand on the back of her neck. Her heart started to beat like crazy. She wanted this, so badly.
Slowly, he brought his lips down on hers.
Her eyes closed immediately, and she fell into the kiss. This was bliss. She didn’t care, didn’t care about any of it. Just being able to spend five more minutes with him was heaven.
Her heartbeat was off. Wrong. It was going faster and faster until she could barely breathe. She opened her eyes. Josh had stopped kissing her, was watching her thoughtfully. Her head began to swim; the walls of the plane started to close in on her. She had just enough time to register—he’s drugged me—before the world went black.
CHAPTER 63
Aubrey woke to sunlight. It took her a full minute to get her eyes open. Her head ached and her mouth was bone-dry.
The events came rushing back. Chase. The TBI. The sprint to the train station. The plane.
Josh.
She swung her feet onto the floor. She was barefoot, and the floor was a whitewashed honey oak. She didn’t recognize it. She did, however, recognize the voice.
“Good morning, sleepyhead.”
He was sitting in a chair four feet from the bed. He shifted, set down a newspaper, and smiled.
“Where are we?” she managed.
“Someplace safe. Head hurt?”
She put a hand to her forehead. “It’s splitting.”
“Yes, I was afraid of that. Drink some water. It’s by your right hand.”
She turned her head carefully and saw the tall clear glass. Water became the most important thing to her. She gulped it down.
It didn’t make her head hurt any less, but it did help her tongue, which was practically glued to the top of her mouth.
“What’s happening? Am I dreaming?” she asked, setting the now empty glass down on the table.
He didn’t leave the chair.
“Oh, Aubrey. It’s a very long story. One which we will have plenty of time to discuss. But for now, I think it’s best that you rest.”
It was all hitting her now, the reality of her strange new world. “Not good enough, Josh. I want to know what’s happening. I want to know where I am. And where the hell you’ve been for the past five years. You bastard! You left me all alone.”
His voice sounded odd to her cottony ears. “I would never hurt you, Aubrey. Don’t you trust me?”
Did she? She looked around the strange room, at her husband’s strange face. This man, whom she’d promised to love, honor, and obey until death did they part? Death had parted them. Her obligation ended at death, right?
This man, who’d taken advantage of her. Who’d drugged her. Who’d whisked her away from her life. This man, who let her spend five years praying he was alive somewhere.
The love of her life. The destroyer of all she held dear.
He’d been as good as dead for five years.
And now she was supposed to trust him?
She sat up straighter, tucked her legs beneath her.
“No. I’m afraid I don’t trust you a bit.”
He laughed then. It was mirthless, and short.
“I can’t say that I blame you.”
“You have to tell me what’s going on. Did you hurt Chase?”
Josh’s new face froze. “Five years apart, and you’re worried about him? God, Aubrey, I thought you’d be happy to see me. Happy to see that I’m alive. I just saved you from them. I saved your life. Allen was coming for you.”
She heard the desperation in his tone. This wasn’t going how he’d planned. And Josh was a planner, always had been. When things didn’t go along their appropriate path, he always got upset. And she needed him clear and focused right now so she could figure out what the hell was happening.
Amazing how quickly they fell back into their old roles.
“Josh, I . . . Of course I’m happy to see you. I’m still in shock. Please, tell me, what’s going on? Where are we? And what did you do to Chase?”
“Fuck Chase,” he spat, and she recoiled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so hostile. It’s just that . . . Aubrey, you don’t know what it’s been like. I’ve missed you so much.”
“I’ve missed you, too. It’s been hell for me. But I suppose
you already know that.”
His eyes closed, her words slicing across him like a knife. She didn’t mean to cause him pain, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Five years, alone. He’d made his choice. A small wall began to build inside her, propping up her spine so she didn’t simply collapse in a quivering heap. She had to hold it together. She had to know.
She could still see the hints of the man she’d loved in his new face. But he was a stranger to her now. A stranger who spoke like Josh and walked like Josh. Josh, but not Josh.
“You had plastic surgery?”
“I had to. What was I supposed to do? I was on the run.”
She shook her head, looking into the stranger’s eyes. “On the run. Five years without a single word. So why now, Josh? What’s brought you back to me at last? Is it the money?”
“You never used to be bitter.”
“Hey, fuck you, Josh. You clearly have no idea what I’ve been through, or else you wouldn’t be so cavalier with your little quips. Of course I’m bitter. Do you blame me?”
He finally left the chair and dropped to his knees beside the bed. Clasped her hands in his. She let him, for the moment.
“Honey, you have no idea what being apart from you has been like for me. I’ve missed you every second of every day. It’s been hell being apart from you.”
“I think you better tell me what’s been happening, Josh. From the beginning. Because I’m so confused I don’t know what to think.”
He nodded, the shadow lifting from his face.
“Aubrey, first . . . Can I kiss you? I promise I won’t drug you again, that was for your safety. But, my darling, I’ve missed you so.”
He turned his face to hers, and she couldn’t stop herself. She wanted that kiss. She’d ached for it. And when it came, when his lips touched hers for the second time, she was surprised at how strange it felt. Familiar and strange, all at the same time. But not comforting. Not sexy. Not . . . anything.
It’s just the stress, Aubrey. That’s what’s wrong. Just the stress.
She tried to relax, to accept what was happening. To experience the moment. Instead, her desire never rose. A chill went through her. She’d dreamed about this moment, begged for it, bargained and pleaded, just for one more chance to kiss Josh.
What the hell?
Josh noticed her lack of passion, too, ending the kiss at the very moment she started to pull away. She moved her head down, glanced toward the floor.
“It’s been a long time, Josh.”
“It has.” He stood, waiting. When she didn’t move into his arms again, he crossed them on his chest and smiled sadly.
“Where are we?” she asked again.
“Ocracoke Island. I’ve been living here for the past year. It’s secure, as secure as I can make it, and it’s the only place I know I can keep you safe. I can see them coming, you see. You have to take a ferry to get here. And I have friends here. They’re close by.”
He moved to the window, which he unshuttered and threw open. She joined him, looking out. A soft, warm breeze caressed her face. The sun was shining; it looked to be midafternoon. The beach came right up to the house, and the ocean spread before her, stretching endlessly out of sight.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“It should be. It cost me enough.”
He laughed harshly, and she wondered if he was talking about money or something else. She turned away from the view.
“Tell me why, Josh. Please. I can’t stand this. I need to know.”
His look was another haunting visitation from the ghost of Josh past, right into her soul, the way he used to when they were children and she’d done something he disapproved of. When he was disappointed in her. “And you shall. Let’s have some dinner. I think better on a full stomach.”
He led her into the hall and down a flight of stairs into a modern, airy kitchen, with a white marble counter and whitewashed cabinets. The whole place had floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the sea, making the house feel like it was floating. She saw an infinity pool stretching away from the deck. It seemed to drop right off the edge of the world into the ocean. She had the sudden urge to fling herself into the sea. Death seemed easier than this new reality.
Josh grabbed her arm, almost as if he knew her thoughts, and sat her at the table. He poured her a glass of white wine and started putting together a meal. Fresh shrimp salad, fruit, cheese. Simple, light fare, fitting for the beach. Dizzyingly similar to meals they’d had on trips they’d taken just north of here, on Nags Head, with Kevin and Janie. When they were married. When they were a couple. When they told each other everything.
She ignored the glass of wine, poured water from the pitcher instead. Her stomach was churning, and she wanted her wits about her. She still had a headache from whatever he’d given her to knock her out. He’d drugged her, the bastard. Instead of trusting her and telling her the truth, he’d practically kidnapped her and taken her to his lair.
The dark abyss opened again. All this time, he’d been alive. All this time, he’d allowed her to think he was dead.
They didn’t talk. There were no words to say after their disconnected kiss. She accepted a plate and nibbled at it, watching him. His long fingers, the broad shoulders, all that was the same. But his face was eerie: flatter, smoother, his eyes dark. His hair was bleached from the sun, or maybe carefully, skillfully highlighted. He looked more like Chase’s brother than her husband.
She couldn’t get a read on him, couldn’t tell if he was happy or sad. His eyes used to have so much expression, and now they were empty. Soulless. Like him.
“Contacts?”
“Implants, actually. Safer, in the long run.” He touched the parts of his face that were altered. “Nose, chin, cheek, too. Just enough to get me past the facial-recognition systems so I can travel. Though I don’t do too much of that anymore.”
Implants. New bones in his face, silicone, fake.
It was all a lie. He was a lie.
She put her fork down. “Why? Why in the world would you want to do this? For the money?”
He looked at her in horror. “Are you kidding?”
“What am I supposed to think?”
“God damn it, I was trying to protect you!”
And he stormed out of the room.
Aubrey let her head sink onto her hands. This new, strange Josh was unnerving. He was volatile. Unpredictable. The antithesis of the previous incarnation of her husband.
Unbidden, Chase’s smile came to her. The feel of his body beneath her hands. The way he laughed. The differences between them were so stark to her now. She couldn’t believe the variances had seemed so slight. Her mind had allowed the details of her husband to fade, to warp and grow dull. She realized the memory of Chase was more real to her at this moment than the physical version of Josh, somewhere nearby.
The old Aubrey would have curled up and cried, overwhelmed at the situation. She was different now. Stronger. Fierce. She wanted answers. She was ready for the truth, whatever that might be.
She took a few deep breaths, then went searching for Josh. She found him on the deck, sitting cross-legged in a spacious chair, his face turned to the sun. The waves lapped the beach below them, a gentle, constant roar.
She sat on the hard deck near him, drew her legs to her chest, wrapped her arms around them so she was as small as could be.
“Why don’t you start at the beginning?”
CHAPTER 64
Josh
Five Years Ago
It all went south.
Of course it did.
There was a car waiting for Josh in the Opryland parking lot. He barely noted the drive downtown, arrived at his assigned spot in the parking lot Allen had chosen for their assignation, sweating bullets. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to be here, but if he
could make it happen quickly and get back to the hotel before anyone missed him . . .
Yeah, right, Hamilton. Good luck with that.
Allen pulled up in his barely dented car. Another swept into the parking lot.
It was go time.
Derek Allen got out of the car, stuffing a weapon into the back of his pants. He saw Josh and smiled, signaled for him to come closer.
“Good, you’re here. You have the gun?”
“Yes. You could have called. You didn’t have to stage an intervention, wreck my car, and fuck with my life.”
“Oh, kid. Just covering all my bases. Let me see the gun.”
Josh handed it over. Allen took it and stashed it in his pocket. Josh noticed he was wearing gloves, kicked himself for not thinking of it. Yeah, you’re a bona fide criminal mastermind, Hamilton. Be sure you wipe the gun down after this.
“Here,” Allen said, handing him another gun. “This one’s not loaded. Don’t want you blowing your cock off or anything by accident.”
“I wouldn’t be so stupid.”
“Kid, you’re shaking. Take a breath and get it together. You know what to do. We practiced this. So man the fuck up.”
They turned to face the second car. The parking lot was dead quiet, the moon casting shadows across the pavement. Josh shivered; he couldn’t help it. He had a terrible feeling about this.
The other dealer stepped from his vehicle. He was dark and thick and surly. He had a large briefcase in his meaty hand.
The three stepped forward and met between the cars. Allen was the first to speak.
“Let’s get this done, shall we? Javier, meet Josh. You wanted to put a face to the name. He’s our link to the Oxy and prescription pads. Josh, this is Javier Cosmos, who’s going to be helping us distribute deeper into the city.”
Cosmos eyed Josh with distaste. He spit on the pavement. “He is just a child. How do we know we can trust him?”
Allen smiled widely. “You can’t. Josh?”
That was his cue. The gun didn’t shake in his hand. He was proud of that. He didn’t want to look like the scared little boy he really was.
“I’ll take the briefcase, Mr. Cosmos, with thanks.”
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