"You little minx!" Nate teased her. She wondered if she should ask him more about his day, but worried that it would only upset him again. But as usual he seemed to be on the same wavelength as her thoughts.
"It was harder than I thought it would be to see my mother." She listened as he spoke, she could hear the guilt and sorrow that laced his voiced as he retold his failed attempt to reach out to his mother. How he was trying to understand that she was as much a victim of Charles as he was.
"It's just that..." His words trailed off as if he was reluctant to finish his thoughts.
"She was an adult and we have this idealized version of how they should act. That they should have the same instincts as we have to know when someone or some situation is not right." Nate nodded to show that Grace had grasped what he was thinking.
"It's kind of like Ms Fields," she didn't try to hide her disgust for the teacher who had been failing to protect those in her care for years.
"She knows better, yet still decided to let things slide. She never speaks out and she must have had some opportunities over the years. Even anonymously."
"Knowing Charles he has some kind of hold on her," Nate said. "Not that I'm excusing her, because if she had spoken out back when she first came to the house, it might have been easier to break his influence over people. At the very least it would have merited an investigation about how it was so easy for him to have me taken out of school and hidden away from anyone who might have been able to help me."
"I mean Maria, who had seen what had happened to her predecessor, and who had more to fear from my stepfather, kept basic records. She secretly gave me food and water whenever she could. Meanwhile that coward said nothing. I guess the perks out weighed any concerns or doubts she had."
Grace fully agreed with his assessment of their teacher, understanding the bitterness in his voice when he spoke about her.
"Her car is new, and those clothes she wears, they are expensive. She's trying to be clever, not going for the obvious labels." While she pondered the cost of Ms Fields' work clothes, Grace found herself being lifted so that she now sat across Nate's lap.
Noting the curious look on his face she voiced her thoughts. "I may or may not have been doing some investigating of my own. I remembered Dylan saying something about a bag that Ms Fields had. That there was a waiting list for that particular style, which Dylan would know all about, since he has much more knowledge of the fashion industry than I ever will."
At Nate's raised eyebrow, she couldn't help but giggle. "Okay, so maybe he's an expert in designers, not fashion, but from what I have found out; with just the most basic of Internet searches, is that Ms Field's wardrobe seems to consists of outfits created by top designers. These designers are famed for their use of discreet labels."
"So the wearer isn't covered in the tacky signs of how much money they have spent on clothes, unlike Dylan and Maddie who dress like their wardrobes threw up on them?!" Nate word's were dripping with sarcasm.
"You should know that their entire clothes allowance could be used as a down payment on a house, or to buy a new car." Grace stated.
"And there's no chance that Ms Fields is rocking some counterfeit threads?" He asked.
"There's no way Dylan or Maddie would let her away with that kind of behavior. They think fakes or knock offs are a crime against fashion!" She had never fully understood the need to spend so much money on clothes. That wasn't to say that she couldn't buy them if she ever felt the need to have them.
There had been a substantial payout from her parents' insurance policy, their modest investments along with the proceeds of the sale of the family home outside Memphis. Most was in a trust, inaccessible until she turned twenty five, with a separate fund for school.
Jack, as her guardian could make an application for funds earlier should she need them in an emergency situation, but he never had. She knew how lucky she was that her parents had chosen wisely when picking who would look after their only child.
She couldn't help the sigh that escaped her. It wasn't that she didn't miss her parents, she did; it was just that Jack and Mimi had helped her to create a new life for herself, one that she knew her parents would never begrudge her.
Rather they would be sad to be missing out on seeing her grow up, not being able to share milestone moments with their daughter. She remembered the many times her mother had told her that she had a bright future ahead of her, and how her father had jokingly showed her how to throw a punch should a boy get a little too friendly with her.
At the time Grace hadn't really understood what he was talking about, but how she cherished the memories of both her parents. Now though, wasn't the time to get lost in thoughts of days past, Nate needed her full attention so that she could offer him any help he might need.
She couldn't help the tremor that ran over her body when he placed his hand on her face, his thumb gently sweeping over her cheekbone.
"Think I lost you for a minute, Belle." She tried to reply but it sounded like gibberish, as his touch made thinking impossible. If he wanted an actual conversation then he needed to stop his current ministrations.
Not that Grace didn't enjoy the feel of his lips as they trailed along her skin, or the soft butterfly kisses that were his specialty. She just couldn't concentrate on forming the words she wanted to say, never mind forming full sentences, not when she was at serious risk of spontaneously combusting.
Yes she was aware of how cliché that sounded, but how was a girl supposed to think when the simple act of breathing was so difficult. Turning her head at just the right moment, she was able to recreate an earlier kiss, copying the way that he had captured her lips, enjoying the growl that followed.
When he gasped at something she had unwittingly done, she took advantage. Feeling particularly bold, she pulled him closer to her so that she could deepen the kiss. For the record, Nate was not complaining, he didn't appear unhappy that there was so little space between them.
As always he knew when to slow things down, sipping at her lips, giving her time cool down a little. Becoming aware once again of her surroundings she wasn't sure when Nate had lost his shirt, or if he had been to one to take it off, but as she was currently holding it, she had a pretty good idea!
As she had done before, she placed kisses on his skin, paying attention to the worst of the scars. Her eyes kept being drawn to where Nate's stepfather had used on old fashioned cattle brand to burn Nate's skin. There was something about the design that seemed familiar, that sparked a memory and she couldn't stop running her hand over it.
"Grace?" There was more than a question in the way Nate said her name. She could sense his doubt, his fear of rejection and one glance at his face spoke volumes about his certainty that she found him as repulsive as the mark on his body, and she was immediately sorry for not voicing her thoughts out loud.
Earlier, when she had asked him about the scars, he had told her how his stepfather liked to see his personal family crest on anything or anyone he believed belonged to him.
Charles had always portrayed himself as an old school landed gentleman, using Nate's mother as a way to pay for the lifestyle he desired.
He had commissioned an artist to design a family crest; one that would feature his initials prominently, and then had found another person to produce the branding iron.
Nate had been the first person that Charles had tried it out on, taking great pleasure in the pain that it had caused his stepson, bragging to his friends that the boy would never be able to get rid of the crest.
He had been mostly right; even with multiple treatments, there had been no way to fully remove it. Nate had explained that he used it as a reminder of what had been taken from him and what he was fighting for. Grace had been unable to hide her tears, hating Charles with every bone in her body.
"I'm sorry Nate. I've just realized that I've seen this mark before." She could only hope that he heard the sincerity in her voice.
/> "He had it added to the house, every room has some form of it, he even wasted money having bespoke wallpaper made, not to mention his signet ring and stationary."
"That may be true," she spoke slowly, "but that's not what I mean. I know I have seen it before, but I can't figure out where. I've never been inside your family house and luckily never been near your stepfather."
She was feeling annoyed with herself, and her random memory that wouldn't cooperate.
"It's not that important Grace. I'm sure that Charles has spread his crest around town. Wherever his followers are, he must have them display it as a sign of loyalty to him. That's probably where you've seen it, but never thought anything of it because why would you? It had no real meaning to you, until now."
She hated how defeated Nate sounded and she found herself cursing Charles Sinclair to a fiery demise. She added Ms Fields to the list of people who should join him there, along with handsy footballers, Dylan and Maddie. Her inner monologue came to a sudden halt.
"That's it."
"Grace?" This time there was only curiosity in Nate's voice, not that she could blame him, she was definitely acting strangely. There was no time just then to explain, at least not out loud. Instead she jumped up from the sofa, running up the stairs.
She was so focused on her task that she made no effort to keep quiet. With a sigh of frustration when she couldn't find what she was looking for, she forced herself to stop for a minute before she remembered where she had last seen her portfolio case.
She barely recognized the fact that Jack was standing in the doorway of his bedroom, still half asleep. Throwing a hurried "sorry" his way, she ran back downstairs, past Nate where he stood waiting for her, and into the darkroom.
There on her desk was her portfolio, and the evidence she had unwittingly held all this time, even if she didn't completely understand the significance. She heard both Jack and Nate approach, but she ignored them, focusing on finding the photographs she needed.
"Just a minute okay." Even to her ears she sounded frazzled. Making quick work of scanning the images she turned to face Nate and Jack.
"I knew that I had seen that mark before, and look-"
She pointed to the screen, waiting expectantly for either of the men to speak.
"Grace, what are we meant to see?" Jack asked, speaking slowly.
"Look, there at Maddie's shoulder. Wait just let me adjust this." As she spoke she zoomed in, then cleaned up the area she wanted them to see.
"Is that?"
"When was this taken?" Both Nate and Jack spoke over one another.
"It looks like the Sinclair crest." Jack said haltingly, as if he was still trying to work something out, and Grace knew that he was choosing his words carefully.
"Like the one I have burned into my skin," Nate confirmed. There was something in his voice that concerned her. Had it been a mistake to share this with him? Would it have been better to tell Jack first, and then let him tell Nate?
"Do you know when this was taken? The exact date?"
"Two years ago. I'd have to look up the time stamp for you for the specifics."
"And has it been altered in any way?" For some reason Grace felt dread sink into her body, as a result of how Nate was speaking. It was like he wasn't really there with them anymore, that in his mind he was somewhere else. Somewhere dark, that made him afraid.
"Besides zooming in and cleaning up the image, it hasn't been changed. I still have the original negatives." She turned to Jack, hoping that he might know why Nate was looking with such horror at the photograph on the screen.
As horrible and mean as Maddie was, Grace didn't think that she deserved to have had to endure the torture of being branded. And why would Charles Sinclair feel the need to mark her that way. She would have been no older than sixteen at the time, probably younger given the healing time needed following such a procedure. The thought made Grace feel sick.
"The night I ran away, before I escaped," Nate spoke hesitantly. "I was there when Maddie got her brand. Not that I knew what was happening. There was a lot going on that night, and I've always tried not to think about it. She had been drugged, and as best I could tell she wasn't in any pain as a result, but..."
Grace stepped towards Nate, wanting to offer him some comfort. His gaze was still fixed on the picture, his hand reaching out to move over the place where the mark marred Maddie's skin. For one brief moment she was almost consumed with an irrational jealousy, which she forced out of her head.
"This is going to sound absolutely crazy," Nate paused again, as if weighing his next words, then continued, "but the girl in this picture is not Maddie McKenzie."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Stunned silence greeted Nate's statement, and he could see the confusion that crossed the faces of Jack and Grace. He had expected that reaction, and maybe if he'd had more time to think about things he would have looked for more evidence before blurting out his suspicions. Time however was not a luxury they had, not if he was right about the fake Maddie.
He could see the silent conversation his girlfriend was having with her guardian, and he couldn't help but envy the connection they had. He wanted that for himself.
For as close as he was with Jack there were still times; like now, when he knew that the older man couldn't help but question him. That he still struggled to understand fully how Nate's mind worked. Or maybe that was just him projecting his fear of ultimately being rejected by those he let get close to him.
"I think I'm going to need coffee." Jack announced, "and maybe pancakes." With those words he left the room, a bemused look on his face.
Nate waited for Grace to speak, but she seemed content to stand beside him, holding his hand in hers. The silence was strangely comfortable, as if he hadn't just announced that there was an impostor in their midst.
"Caffeine and carbs first, then theories and explanations." she spoke softly, no judgment or hesitation in her voice.
"How about a little sugar first?" Nate quipped, then cringed. Had he really said that, like some cheesy chat up line. Rather than laughing at him, she offered him a chaste kiss, and taking his cue from her, he didn't attempt to deepen the kiss.
"Later, my love," there was a promise in Grace's whisper, as well as the slightest of blushes on her cheeks. "When protective guardians are otherwise distracted."
She did have a point; as cool as Jack was, and as accepting as he had been with the growing closeness between he and Grace, there was no way that Nate would push any boundaries.
"Let's see if there is anything we can do to help," he suggested.
"Or we could make ourselves a little more presentable before Mimi gets here." At her pointed look, he realized that he was still shirtless, no doubt that was something her guardian would bring up with him later.
"I'm guessing that Jack has called Ms Riley already?" He asked, wondering how soon it would take for her to get there.
"The minute he hit the kitchen he had her on speed dial I'm sure." There was a teasing lilt to Grace's voice, one that he wanted to hear more of.
"And since she probably has been planning all night, she is going to love this new plot twist."
"Am I crazy?" He couldn't stop the words spilling out.
"Not in the slightest. You know how both Jack and Mimi are, they will want to be able to fully focus on what you have to say. They know there are things you haven't told them yet, and it's not like you had ever seen the picture before." He felt relieved as Grace spoke, everything she said making sense.
"Go, take some time to shower, get changed and gather your thoughts. This is a safe space Nate. And if what you say is true; and I'm sure it is, then we will need to figure out what has been happening in town and why."
"That's what my Gramps wanted. He wrote me a letter, Ms Riley kept it for me. He thought that there was something more going on, not just how Charles had been with me, and my mother. And maybe this is the first real clue we have.
"
His mind began to run through the various possibilities so he was only half aware of Grace walking with him towards the room he had been given to use when he stayed over. He heard her leave, and moving on autopilot he had a quick shower, and found fresh clothes to wear.
By the time he walked into the kitchen, he was greeted with the sight of Grace setting the table. She had taken the time to throw on a long dress that looked like a sweater yet clung to her curves. Her hair was now in two braids, that he just knew would tickle his skin.
He needed to get more control over his wayward thoughts, or else he would not be able to properly articulate the growing evidence that he had in the form of returning memories.
As he had told Jack, he had done his level best to banish the worst of his memories. There were nights when the terrors appeared in his dreams, infecting his sleep, but as the years had passed he had found ways to redirect his recollections.
It wasn't always successful, which was one of the reason he had insisted on Grace knowing about the most common of his triggers.
"Good morning dear," Ms Riley's voice was just as warm and welcoming as always. "I'll be finished supervising my son's attempts at making English scones in a few minutes, so if you could pour the coffee that would be a great help."
Maybe Jack hadn't yet spoken to Ms Riley about what he had said, she hadn't given him more than a passing glance, rather than the almost soul searching looks she was known for, and that Nate had been expecting.
"I told you, we all need carbs and caffeine before the investigation starts." Grace had moved closer to him, her whispered words full of mirth.
"Jack thought that this morning was the perfect opportunity to try a new recipe, so I hope you're not too disappointed not to get more pancakes."
Unable to help himself; she seemed so carefree in that moment, Nate stole another chaste kiss, loving the light blush that appeared on Grace's cheeks.
Chasing Shadows Page 20