Forgotten (Shattered Sisters Book 2)

by Maggie Shayne

  And there was more. Tito del Rio, the man who had fathered her, Toni’s dad, had fathered other children. And her mom and dad had found the names of two of them. Caitlin Rossi, a billionaire heiress from Maine, and Alexandra Holt, who was a doctor in Manhattan. Toni had lived in New York City and never known she had a sister so nearby.

  "You okay, Joey?"

  Ash was pulling a big, soft brush through her hair, his strokes soothing her aching head as he worked. God, he was going to a lot of trouble to make her feel better.

  She'd worshiped her parents once. Then she'd grieved for her mother and despised her father. And now…now....

  "I don't know how to feel, Ash."

  "Give it some time. It'll come to you. I promise."

  She shook her head. "I don't know."

  "It will. You're still reeling from the shock. In a day or two that will fade, and you'll know how to deal with this.”

  She closed her eyes as he pulled the brush through her hair. Then he set the brush aside and replaced it with his fingers. "I couldn't have done this without you. You took away the pain, Ash, and I wish..."

  He moved around in front of her, knelt down and stared up into her eyes. "You wish?"

  "I wish I could do the same for you. I wish I could take away the hurt your mother caused." She saw his face tighten, but she caught it between her palms gently and she lowered her head to kiss him. "If I could go back in time, I would. I'd be with you in that closet every time. And I'd hold you, love you, until the door opened again."

  She saw his eyes widen in wonder, just before the telephone shrilled and broke the fragile bond she'd felt forming between them. Ash rose, averting his gaze. He reached for the phone as Joey searched her mind for some way to heal his oldest, deepest wound.

  He spoke softly, then hung up. "Ted," he told her, his eyes still not quite meeting hers.

  "Problem?"

  "They're worried about Felix. He was outside when they left for the park. They couldn’t find him to put him inside, and they just heard it's going to storm tonight. We've been elected to drive over there, find the cat and put him in. Ted says you have a key."

  She nodded, glancing toward the the window. "We'd better hurry. Looks like it’s going to pour any minute."

  Her prediction proved all too accurate. Ash drove Joey's car through the deluge, wipers swashing back and forth in a frantic attempt to clear the windshield. She hoped it would let up a little by the time they got to Caro's house, but it rained all the harder as they pulled to a stop in the driveway, huge droplets ricocheting off the car's hood like tiny explosions.

  After exchanging one long do-or-die glance, they both leapt out of the car and went in opposite directions, calling "Kitty, kitty" at the tops of their lungs just to be heard over the rain.

  Joey finally heard an answering pathetic yowl and followed the sound. Felix sat in the tree house on the back lawn, peering down at her and crying over and over.

  "Ash, he's out here!"

  Ash joined her. His hair was plastered to his head, rivulets of water running down his nose. She laughed. He lifted his arms from his sides in a helpless gesture, then squinted at her. "Don't knock it, princess, you're pretty soggy yourself." He hugged her hard, gave her a long, wet kiss, then strode purposefully toward the tree and mounted the ladder. "If this doesn't elevate me to prince status, then nothing will."

  He climbed the tree, picked up Felix and then struggled to hold on to the frightened eighteen-pound cat all the way back down. They ran around the house again, and Joey quickly unlocked the door.

  Inside, Ash put the cat down. He looked down at his dripping wet clothes, and at the puddles forming around their feet. "Now what?"

  Felix tilted his head up and yowled plaintively.

  "We get dry. Come on up. I’ll find us something of Caro and Ted's to wear home. They won't mind. Especially since we saved Felix from a fate worse than death."

  "You sure?"

  She nodded, reached down to scoop up the cat and led the way up the stairs. She pointed Ash toward the bedroom, while she carried Felix into the bathroom to rub him down with a towel. A few minutes later, Ash joined her, wearing a pair of Ted's jeans and a sweater. He reached for another towel and rubbed his hair dry.

  "Hurry and change, Joey."

  "Felix could catch pneumonia."

  "So could you."

  Their eyes met, and Joey's hands stilled on the cat. Felix twisted from her grip and jumped gracelessly to the floor, his fur sticking up in odd patterns, a black patch laying one way, a white patch another, some sticking straight up. Ash swallowed and cleared his throat. "Might as well hang out here until the rain stops.”

  Joey nodded. "Looks like it might be a while."

  "Yeah. I'd better let Rad know where to reach us."

  "There's a phone in the kitchen. Why don't you see if you can scare up a hot drink while you're at it. Caroline usually has cocoa mix in the cupboard."

  "Okay." Ash started to turn away. Then he looked back at her. There was a longing in his eyes, a glow of something she didn't recognize. "Joey, I..." He bit his lip, then shook his head. "Later. Change now, your lips are turning blue."

  I love you. That was what she'd thought he was going to say. Joey, I love you. So was that her psychic receptor picking up on a phrase that was practically screaming from his mind? Or was it wishful thinking rearing its persistent head yet again? She watched him go, then shivered and hurried into Caroline's bedroom to find some dry clothes.

  It didn't take long. She pulled out a pair of warm, comfy gray sweats and an oversized T-shirt. She found some thick socks and even borrowed a pair of tennis shoes from Caro's closet. Brushing her hair and wielding the blow-dryer, she took out most of the moisture.

  As she worked she realized that she hadn't been hurting over the diary's revelations. It seemed the shock had been what rocked her at first, and now the knowledge seemed to be settling in her mind and in her heart, rather than eating away at them. When she’d first learned she had another sister, she’d looked Toni up and and arranged a meeting. They’d become very close very quickly. She wouldn’t trade that relationship for the world. And now there were two more half-sisters whose names she knew. Maybe two more chances for relationships just as special, just as precious. She glanced toward the phone and thought about calling her father at the hotel, at least just to tell him she'd read the diary. She recalled the pain in his face when she'd spoken to him, called him a liar. She'd branded him a cheat, a heartless bastard. She'd been wrong. She was still angry, or perhaps just hurt, that her parents had lied to her. But she'd convicted an innocent man of the wrong crime. Didn't he deserve this? Just one, brief call?

  Ash ought to be finished with the phone by now. She reached for it, still undecided, but when she brought it to her ear, she heard voices. Ash's and Rad's. She shook her head and started to replace the receiver.

  "Then she's still lying to you," Radley grumbled.

  Joey frowned at the earpiece and slowly pressed the phone back to her ear.

  "She almost told me the truth today, Rad. I know she wants to. It's only a matter of time—"

  "You don't have time, Ash. Look, I like her. I do. But maybe it’s time to just tell her the damned amnesia was a ruse all along, and that you’ve known she was lying about the marriage from the start. Force her to come clean so we can get to the bottom of this.”

  "Rad, I can't—"

  The receiver fell from her suddenly numb hand and clattered to the floor. She heard a male voice ask, "What was that?" but ignored it. She turned, stricken, and sank onto her sister’s bed, staring into space, seeing nothing, feeling her heart begin to bleed.

  She heard Ash swear, then silence from the fallen receiver. Hurried footsteps came next. He stood in the doorway, and she knew he was staring at her, at the receiver on the floor, at her again.

  "Joey?"

  She didn't look at him. She couldn't, or she'd break down. "You knew. You knew all along."

&nbs
p; "Joey, it isn't—"

  "Didn't you?"

  He was silent for a long moment. Then, "Yes."

  "And yet you deceived me. You never had amnesia."

  "I deceived you? Joey, you told me you were my wife."

  "And you pretended to believe me. Why?"

  He came closer, reached out to touch her face, but she ducked away and he let his hand fall to his side. "Because I needed to find out what you were up to. I thought it might have something to do with the murders, and I had to know for sure."

  She nodded stiffly. "For a story. You turned me inside out for a story."

  "You're twisting this whole thing inside out, Joey. You're the one who started this deception, not me. You going to tell me you had a better reason than I did?''

  Finally she lifted her chin and met his eyes. The tears in her own prevented her from reading whatever emotions might be there. "I know that bastard is going to kill my sister. I saw it. She was lying on the floor, facedown, the back of her T-shirt covered in blood, the ends of her beautiful hair tinged crimson, that dagger on the floor near her. The Slasher standing over her. And I saw you. You are the victim just before Caroline. The Slasher will kill you before he kills her. I had to break the chain, and I sensed I had to break it with you."

  His eyes widened more with every word she spoke, and he searched her face. "You came up with this whole crazy scheme to protect your sister?"

  "At first. But almost as soon as I met you, it became just as important to me to keep you alive, Ash. You made me feel that way. You let me think...and all the time... God, I made love to you, Ash! How could you let me do that when you knew, when you were only pretending?"

  "Joey, no. I wasn't—"

  "You let me fall in love with you! Damn you. Damn you, Ash!" She got to her feet and started for the door.

  "Wait!"

  She froze, but didn't turn to face him.

  "You...you love me?"

  Her spine stiffened. God, he'd played her well, acting as if he cared when in truth... Tears streamed over her face, but she wouldn't let him see. Tearing the fake ring from her finger, she dropped it onto the floor. Then she raced down the stairs and out the front door, never looking back. She dashed through the rain to the car, started the motor and took off, spinning the tires on the wet pavement, fishtailing before lurching forward.

  Chapter Sixteen

  * * *

  Ash picked up the simple gold band, stared at it. Dammit to hell, she was a freaking lunatic! Angry at him for lying to her when she'd told a whopper as big as his. Bigger. Blaming him for letting her fall in love.

  In love.

  My God, she loved him. He stood stock-still in the bedroom and let that information seep into his bones, into his heart. He felt something stir deep inside. That old longing. That little boy he'd tried to lock away, the one who had yearned for love more than for air or warmth or even light. The deep pit inside him wasn't so empty anymore. And it shook Ash to realize that it hadn't been for some time. Because even though she hadn't vocalized it, Joey had been steadily filling it up with her words, her touch, her presence. God, her kisses, her body, her very breaths, had all been filling that well inside him. It wasn't empty at all anymore. It was filled to bursting; he was filled to bursting. No wonder he'd had such confusing emotions about Joey. He loved her right back.

  He heard the car pull away. He couldn't lose her. Not now. He had to make her understand why he'd done what he had.

  He started for the stairway to go after her. Then he realized he couldn't do that. She'd left him without wheels. Think! Hell, he couldn't let her go on another minute believing what she'd just accused him of—that none of this had meant a thing to him, that he'd been playing a role all along. He hadn't been doing that any more than she had.

  He paced some more, then stopped at the telephone still on the floor. He'd call her. He'd talk her into coming back, or just tell her what he had to tell her on the phone. He'd make her listen. God, he was only just beginning to realize why she meant so much to him. She'd done what he'd believed could never be done. She'd healed that child inside him. She'd given him the ability to love. He had to tell her that.

  Her cell phone went straight to voice mail, so he tried the landline. It rang endlessly, but no one answered. Frustrated, he slammed the receiver down. Okay, she just hadn't had time to get home yet. He'd give her five minutes. Five minutes, no more. Then he'd call again. And if she still didn't pick up, he'd get to her if he had to crawl. And in the meantime, he'd ponder this some more, decide how best to explain this to her, what to say. It would have to be perfect. She was angry.

  He paced the bedroom floor, rehearsing lines, tucking the ring into his pocket.

  When he heard the car in the driveway, he stiffened. She was back! His heart skidded to a halt in his chest when he realized it would be now or never. He'd have to make her understand or....

  His heart sank when someone else appeared in the doorway instead of Joey. "Damn. What are you doing here?"

  Joey paced. Then she cried. Then she paced some more. It was nothing. Ash felt nothing for her. He was hard-nosed, stubborn, ready to do anything necessary to get this story. He'd used her all along. God, he'd used her own lie against her, even slept with her. While she'd been losing herself to him, heart and soul, he'd probably been laughing at how far she'd go to carry off her charade. But she hadn't made love to him to convince him the marriage was real. She'd done it because she loved him. She loved him...still.

  She groaned deep in her throat and realized this was going to hurt for a long, long time. Then she stilled as grim laughter filled her mind. Not her own. Nothing this evil could come from her.

  The Slasher.

  The maniac prowled somewhere out there tonight, enveloped in darkness, sheltered by the storm itself.

  Her vision! God, how could she have left Ash alone when she knew he could be next? What if it was too late?

  What if that blade had already ripped across the tight skin of his throat? She ran to the phone, yanked up the receiver. She would call, just to make sure he was okay. Then she would get back to him. She'd...

  No dial tone. The phone is dead.

  Okay. It doesn't mean anything. Think! Think of the vision. Try and see the area around Ash, when he's lying on the floor. Could it be Caroline's house? Could that be where it happens?

  She strained to conjure the vision in her mind, but instead of Ash's body on the floor, she saw Caroline's. She lay facedown, on a brown sculpted carpet. It could have been the carpet in Joey's own living room. Her long, multicolored waves were loose and spread over her back. The ends had soaked some of the blood from the back of the oversized gray T-shirt and—

  Joey went perfectly still and her heart seemed to trip to a stop in her chest. The T-shirt in the vision... She glanced down at herself. It was the one she was wearing right now. Again she sought details in the image she'd foreseen. It could be her, not Caroline at all. Their hair was alike. She'd only assumed she saw her sister in the vision because of the signature clothing the woman on the floor wore. But the face hadn't been visible. And Joey was wearing those exact clothes right now.

  And the phone was dead.

  Her heart began functioning again, hammering so hard against her ribs that her body shook with the percussions. She had to get to Ash. The killer would hit him before her. She was certain of that. And she might already be too late.

  She turned toward the door. Thunder rattled the windows and lightning flashed for an instant. A dark silhouette was framed beyond the curtains of the sliding-glass door. Not Ash, and not a woman. A man.

  The Slasher was here already. Finished with Ash. It was Joey's turn now.

  "God, please, no," she whispered, limping slowly on trembling legs toward the stairs. "Please don't let Ash be dead. Please." Maybe he was still alive. Maybe, if she could get help to him in time, he could survive. He'd been lying still in the vision, but that didn't have to mean he was dead. It didn't...it couldn't.


  She found the stairs and climbed them. She walked softly, trying not to make even the tiniest sound, into her bedroom, to the nightstand. Carefully she opened the drawer, pulled out the gun.

  She extracted the clip, made sure it held all the bullets it could hold, then slipped it inside again.

  Glass shattered downstairs. She clapped a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming and tiptoed fast to the bedroom door, closing it and turning the lock. She retreated to the far side of the room and huddled in the corner, gun ready.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Heavy ones. Then they sounded in the hall. They stopped.

  Joey trembled from head to toe as she waited for the knob to jiggle, or for the door to splinter beneath a heavy blow. But nothing came.

  She waited longer, and still nothing. Not a sound, or a step, or anything at all. What was happening? Maybe the killer had given up, or left to search somewhere else. She had to find a way to get to Ash. She couldn't huddle in this corner all night while he might be bleeding to death at her sister's house. She had to help him.

  Slowly, silently, she crept back to the bedroom door, the gun held in a two-fisted, white-knuckled grip. She moved closer and closer, straining to hear a sound or movement. She opened her mind and tried to home in on the evil presence that had invaded her home, her very being. But she found nothing there. She bent low, pressing her ear to the door.

  It smashed open suddenly, cracking the side of her head and sending her sprawling. The gun skittered across the floor and under the bed. The door hit the wall behind it. Joey shook her head to clear it and scrambled to her feet.

  The Slasher stood in the doorway, soaked in rain. There was a thin layer of dark, curling hair on muscled arms that ended in fine black gloves of kid leather, with those two tiny buttons she knew so well. And clutched in one of those gloved hands was the double-edged dagger, its jeweled handle glinting in the dim room. The face was one she recognized, but still it took a moment to sink in.