Since he’d gone on a chase that the evening, work passed quickly for Pierce, but on his way home, he had to stop by the gas station. Driving around all night had emptied his gas tank, so he needed to top it off before continuing on his way. While he was there, he went inside to grab a drink and a pastry before stepping up to the register to pay for his purchases and gas. He was surprised to see a young woman behind the counter instead of the regular cashier.
“Morning,” he grumbled to her. “Where’s Fred?”
“He went on a weeklong fishing trip.”
“That sounds nice,” Pierce said. “I hope he has a great time.”
Pierce handed the cashier his money at the same time the bell over the door jingled, signaling a customer had walked inside. A few seconds later, he felt the presence of someone stepping up behind him.
“Me too. Have a good day.”
Pierce moved to the side to put his change in his wallet as the person behind him stepped up to the counter.
“Excuse me,” the deep voice said, “but have you seen this person?”
Pierce was too fatigued to hang out to listen to what the cashier had to say, so he shoved his wallet into his pants and started toward the door. He was just about to push it open when the man spoke again.
“Do you mind if I hang this up in here?”
“Oh, sure. The bulletin board has a lot of old fliers on it, so how about I tape it on the counter so people can see it?” the cashier offered.
Pierce pushed the door open and made his way toward the SUV. Just as he unlocked his vehicle, he thought he heard someone call out to him, but he didn’t bother to make sure. Instead, he climbed inside, started his ignition, and sped out of the parking lot. The night had been a shit-show, and all he wanted to do was get some rest.
Duncan was still sound asleep when Pierce went upstairs to check on him after he woke from his nap. His back was stiff, and his neck ached from sleeping on the lumpy couch. As he stared at Duncan’s lithe body lying on the big bed, Pierce longed to stretch out beside him. He checked the tray and saw the saltines were almost gone and the glass of juice had been drained. Pierce was pleased to see Duncan had listened to him about not letting things go to waste, and he went back downstairs to check the contents of the fridge. He was sure another trip to the grocery store was going to be needed, so he needed to make a list of things to get.
Opening the door to the refrigerator, he peered inside and frowned. Blinking a few times, he lifted his head and cast his eyes upstairs in the general direction of Duncan’s room before looking back inside the fridge. The bottle of juice had been placed on the shelf wrong. Even though he was fatigued, Pierce was very particular with how things were put on the shelves, with all the labels facing front.
Closing the door, Pierce opened the dishwasher and found it empty, so he opened the cabinet where he kept the glasses. Sure enough, one still had residual drops of water inside it. Squeezing his hands into fists, Pierce gritted his teeth to keep from roaring in anger. Instead, he seethed as he tried to control his breathing. How could Duncan be so stupid? If he wanted to walk around, Pierce would’ve helped him. He could seriously injure his ankle even worse than he already had. And, to top it off, he hadn’t let Pierce know he was up walking around and instead let Pierce believe he was helping him with their practices.
Pierce felt like a fucking idiot. He thought the walks were helping Duncan get stronger. He thought he was helping Duncan. But it was all a ruse. After all he’d done for Duncan during his recovery, this was the thanks he got? Duncan sneaking around and lying to him? It was hard to tell how long Duncan had been walking around. Had the cut on Duncan’s finger really come from the razor when he shaved, or had Duncan lied to his face?
The more questions he asked himself, the more upset Pierce became. Without stopping to rationalize, he grabbed his car keys and stormed out of the house. Pierce was…tired. Tired of dealing with an ungrateful husband. Tired of being treated like a nurse and a maid. He was tired of all the bullshit that was his marriage. As he sped toward the store, he allowed his mind to wander as he formulated a plan. The time for the nice, understanding, patient husband had passed. It was time to put a stop to this fucking charade once and for all.
Two hours later, Pierce was back home with his purchases, and after he plastered a smile on his face, he climbed the stairs to check on Duncan. This time, he was awake.
“Good afternoon, Tiger. How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good, actually. The nausea has passed, and my head doesn’t hurt nearly as bad.”
“That’s great. Are you ready to practice walking?” Pierce asked, keeping his tone light.
“Sure. I feel myself getting stronger every day, thanks to your help.”
Pierce internally bristled at Duncan’s words. “That’s what I love to hear. Pretty soon, you’ll be tackling the stairs.”
Duncan chuckled, and Pierce noted how forced it seemed. “I’m not sure I’m there yet. But maybe in time.”
“We’ll just take it one day at a time, and I’ll be here to help you with it.”
Pierce helped Duncan off the bed and kept the smile on his face as they walked to the hallway. As Duncan practiced walking across the floor, Pierce couldn’t stop thinking about the bottle of juice and the wet glass. And the more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He just had to wait a few more hours, and then he’d get his answers.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The trip downstairs the night before had been a waste of Duncan’s time. His head throbbed and his stomach heaved with every step he took, so by the time he reached the kitchen, all he wanted was something to drink and for his stomach to settle. He searched the cabinets, and they all came up empty except for one above the dishwasher, where there were a few glasses and plates. Taking a glass down, he went to the refrigerator and grabbed the bottle of juice. He didn’t take much time studying the contents of the fridge, but he noted how everything seemed to be lined up evenly. After he drank some of the juice, bile rose in his throat, and his head started to throb harder. Rinsing the glass, he returned it to the cabinet and then went back upstairs to his room, where he felt sick and defeated. But now, after resting most of the day, he felt much better, and he was determined to explore the rest of the downstairs after Pierce left for the night.
After spending most of the day resting, followed by walking practice and a long shower, Duncan was antsy for Pierce to leave. His stomach had settled, his head wasn’t throbbing, and his curiosity was piqued. Duncan had no idea how he knew, but he was certain once he went downstairs and searched, he’d finally get some answers. His memory wasn’t coming back, aside from a few dreams here and there. It was as if something was blocking it. Most of the dreams were of him running in an alleyway. The more he thought about it, the more he began to wonder if the alley was significant to his accident. Maybe something downstairs would bring his memory back.
Day finally turned to night, and after checking to make sure he didn’t need anything else, Pierce left him to go to work. Looking back, Duncan found it strange that Pierce never had a day off, but after hearing about the financial strain his hospital bills put on them, Duncan figured Pierce had picked up some extra shifts at the factory where he worked. Whatever the reason, Duncan was glad for it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to dig around in the attic or go downstairs.
Once the door finally shut, Duncan waited with bated breath as he listened for the crunch of Pierce’s tires. His body was tense as he sat still in the middle of the bed, body braced to stand as he waited for the perfect time to move. He breathed slow and evenly, concentrating on every inhale and exhale, until he was confident Pierce was gone and not coming back until the morning. If he were coming back, he would have already, so Duncan was in the clear.
Walking downstairs was easier than climbing up, and with his ankle stronger, he could put more weight on it. The descent went fast, and before he knew it, he was downstairs to look around. He didn’t was
te a lot of time in the living room, since he’d seen that already. A room off to the left opened to an empty den that could’ve doubled as a library, thanks to the built-in shelves taking up an entire wall. With hardwood floors, fireplace, and bay window, it was a gorgeous room that Duncan could’ve seen himself in, stretching out on a chaise with a good book. It was almost heartbreaking to see it vacant. Moving on, Duncan found a spare room that was much too small to hold a bed, so it was probably used as an office before, as well as a closet that held a few cleaning items like a mop and bucket and a broom.
Another door led to a half bathroom with only a toilet and a sink. The roll of toilet paper and hand towel told Duncan that this one was at least being used by Pierce. It made sense, since he spent so much of his time downstairs. He was disappointed his search was coming up empty, but he still had the kitchen to explore. Aside from the bedroom, the kitchen was probably the most used room in the house, so maybe he’d find something in there.
The night before, he hadn’t looked closely, since his head was throbbing, but tonight he had more clarity and could look more thoroughly. Duncan felt along the wall until he found the light switch, and after flipping it on, he took a few seconds to look around. Since his headache was gone, he could look around and see the wooden cabinetry, the granite counter tops, and the stainless-steel appliances, all of which looked brand new. The kitchen was a chef’s dream, and Duncan had a strong urge to make an elaborate meal using the double oven and flat-top stove. But he wasn’t there to cook or drool over the appliances, he was there to get answers. And he hoped that one of those closed cabinets or drawers held a clue to unlocking his memory and his life before whatever accident he was in.
Starting from the left, Duncan made his way along the counter, opening various cabinets and drawers, and tried to quell his frustration when they all were empty. He was close to giving up hope when he opened a drawer near the sink. It was the second drawer down, under the one that held a few utensils like forks, knives, and spoons. When he pulled it open, he heard a rattle, and he nearly yanked the drawer off the track as he jerked it open it all the way. Whatever was moving around had rolled to the back, and Duncan had to reach inside to grasp it.
Duncan raised is hand to see what he was holding and was surprised to see it was a medicine bottle. The label looked like it was from a pharmacy, and the name on it said Duncan Reynolds. Looking at the prescription, he saw the medicine inside was Zolpidem, which the label said was generic for Ambien. Duncan’s brows furrowed as he looked at the unfamiliar words, and he twisted the bottle around until he saw the side effects—headache, nausea, drowsiness, weakness, and an upset stomach.
“Why do you have these?” Duncan muttered. He looked at the count on the bottle and saw there were supposed to be sixty pills.
Without a second thought, he twisted the cap off and looked inside the bottle to see how many pills were inside. He guestimated there were around twenty or so left, which made Duncan wonder where the rest were. As he thought back to how often he slept, and the fact his drinks had tasted off, he had a vague idea. Chills ran down his spine at the thought of being drugged, and his mind was screaming for him to get the hell out of that house, but something else told him he needed to keep looking. He needed to figure out why Pierce would possibly do that to him and hopefully find something to help him regain his memory.
Recapping the pills, he put them back where he found them and then moved on to another cabinet. There was nothing else to find except bottles of Duncan’s pain medication and antibiotic Pierce kept near the kitchen sink, so Duncan turned his sights on the closed door near the back. He hadn’t noticed it before when he was down there since he was so hellbent on going outside, but now it held his interest.
Duncan expected to find a pantry when he pulled the door open, but he was surprised to find a desk and chair taking up most of the small space. The desk was covered with papers, a phone, and a laptop, as well as a small black box with two green, blinking lights and a switch on the side.
“What do we have here?” Duncan asked as he limped toward the desk.
Anxious curiosity filled him as he pulled out the chair and sat down. With a shaky hand, he grabbed the first piece of paper on the desk and glanced down at it. As he read it, he gasped.
Have you seen this man?
Name: Lucas Wheeler
Missing since June 1st
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 175 pounds
Hair color: light brown
Eye color: brown
Lucas was last seen leaving work at Maurice’s restaurant, where he is employed as a chef, on the evening of June first. He was wearing black slacks, a blue button-down shirt, and black shoes. Please contact Shaw Wheeler if you have any information.
Duncan couldn’t believe what he was reading, and as his eyes landed on the picture attached to the flyer, he wanted to vomit. It was a picture of…him. But who the fuck was Lucas Wheeler? Or Shaw Wheeler, for that matter? His name was Duncan Reynolds, wasn’t it? And he wasn’t a chef but a paralegal, right? Nothing made sense as he reread the paper, and the room seemed to shrink around him.
Duncan had to focus on his breathing, so he didn’t pass out at the desk, and then he set the paper down before flipping on the laptop. It took a second for the computer to boot up, so while he waited, he looked at the other documents on the desk. One paper was another flyer identical to the first one he’d read, but he main thing that caught his eye was the newspaper clipping. Duncan picked it up to read it and saw it was an article about the Parrishes and how the entire family had gone missing without a trace.
The beeping of the computer let Duncan know it was ready, and he was grateful it didn’t require a sign-in. He wasn’t surprised to see the computer wasn’t hooked to the internet, but as he glanced around, he saw a smaller box that looked like it might’ve been used for Wi-Fi, connected to the larger one with the switch he’d noticed earlier. Acting entirely on instinct, Duncan reached out and flipped the switch, and he watched as the lights on the box blinked off before a notification popped up on the computer that he was connected to the internet. Whatever he’d turned off had been blocking the Wi-Fi connection.
“Holy shit,” he gasped.
There were hardly any icons on the desktop, but one folder held his attention, and he maneuvered the mouse over to click on it. The folder was simply called LW. When the folder opened, it took a few seconds for the contents inside to load. Duncan’s eyes narrowed when he saw dozens of photo thumbnails pop on the screen. He clicked on the first photo and let out a strangled cry when he saw himself in a candid shot.
Duncan flipped through the photos and saw himself doing various things: walking into a building, talking on his phone, and climbing into his car. He saw himself standing outside an apartment building, in the grocery store, and in line at a food truck. There were also photos of him holding hands with another man as they walked down the street, kissing the man on a sidewalk, and one showed Duncan with his head thrown back as he laughed heartily while the other man stood beside him with a wide smile on his handsome face. But those weren’t what caught his attention the most. No, the ones that did were of him sitting in front of a fountain and posing in front of the Eiffel Tower. Pictures in front of a Christmas tree and wearing a New Year’s Eve hat. They were the photos Pierce had printed out, as well as all the other ones in the photo album, but every single photo showed Duncan with another man—and Duncan had a feeling that man was Shaw Wheeler.
As Duncan started the flip through more the pictures, memories started the flood his brain. The faceless man in his dreams was soon replaced with Shaw. The kisses and touches he felt were from Shaw. The chocolate cake he shared on a date was with Shaw. Pierce was not a part of anything. Which made Duncan wonder, why the hell was he with Pierce?
As he continued to flip through the pictures, he came across some of Pierce that’d been uploaded. Duncan’s eyes widened to the size of saucers when more photos opened to show Pie
rce’s face photoshopped over Shaw’s. The last few pictures had Duncan pushing back from the table as his entire body started to shake. They were photoshopped drivers’ licenses with Duncan and Pierce’s pictures and names on them, as well as a phony marriage license.
Duncan jumped to his feet in one jerky motion as his heart raced wildly and his entire body trembled in fear. It was the same fear he felt in his dream, running down the darkened alley, and he began to wonder if it had been a dream or a memory trying to surface. As questions and uncertainty filled Duncan’s mind, there was one thing he knew for sure.
“I’m Lucas Wheeler,” he whispered.
It was strange how familiar that name felt rolling off his tongue, and he repeated it, this time a bit louder. “I’m Lucas Wheeler.”
“Maybe you were once,” Pierce said behind him. “But now, you’re Duncan Reynolds, and you better not forget it.”
Duncan gasped at Pierce’s voice, and an intense terror he’d never felt before—not even in his dream—coursed down his spine and through his veins. Just as he was about to turn around and face the man who had been calling himself Duncan’s husband, a heavy object connected with the back of his skull, knocking him to the ground. Stars danced behind his eyes, and pain radiated through his head as he felt blood start to trickle down his neck. He blinked a few times as he tried to fight through the pain and dizziness, but it was no use. As Pierce leaned closer to him, Duncan closed his eyes and gave up the battle.
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