“Right,” I said, her words making me feel guilty for having withheld something else from her, and I quickly changed the subject by continuing with, “Want to join us at the house for dinner?”
“I’d love to. I’ll grab a shower at the motel first. But you don’t think Maya will mind?”
“Not at all,” I said, hoping I was right but not caring if I wasn’t. “Can you drop me off at the Cliff’s Head? Her shift will be over soon, so I’ll catch a ride home with her. Come to the house in an hour or so? If you get there before us, there’s a spare key under the flowerpot on the left side of the door.”
Lily grinned. “Some things never change.”
* * *
When I walked into the Cliff’s Head, Maya stood behind the host’s desk, her face lighting up as soon as she saw me. “Hey, perfect timing. I’m almost done here and...” She frowned. “What’s wrong? Did something happen with Lily?”
“Can we talk somewhere private?” I said, and after she’d led me to a small room at the back and closed the door behind us, I decided to be as direct as possible so I could gauge her immediate reaction. “Why are you buying drugs from Dave Decato?” I said, her startled face confirming Fiona’s suspicions. “What the hell are you doing? What are you taking?”
“Nothing,” she said, sticking out her chin. “It’s none of your business.”
“It is. What’s going on?”
I watched her resolve falter. She glanced at the door before whispering, “Weed, okay?”
“But you can get it legally—”
“His stuff is way better.”
“But why are you smoking—”
She threw her hands in the air. “Because your being back here has stressed me out. I’m so worried I’ll wake up and you’ll be gone. Or you’ll never get your memory back... Or I won’t be able to support us financially and we’ll have to sell the house. It’s a lot of pressure, Ash. I...I guess I needed something to help me relax.”
“Jesus, Maya.”
“It’s no big deal—”
“Not the weed. The fact I put you in this situation.” I ran my hands over my face, shook my head. “Who the hell do I think I am, striding in here, being such a sanctimonious shit?”
“You’re not, and it’s okay. I only got a little bit but please don’t tell anyone. Especially not Lily. I want us to be friends and can’t bear her thinking badly of me.”
“I know what you mean,” I said, sitting down on one of the chairs, gesturing for her to do the same. “I haven’t told her yet, but I remembered something about the night I got hurt.”
“What? Are you sure?”
“I think so, and I don’t think it was an accident.” As I told Maya about my flashback and the man hitting me with a rock, I decided it was good I couldn’t remember more details about my assailant, like his name. With the look on Maya’s face, if I had known, she’d jump in her car, drive to Brookmount and throttle him with her bare hands. I wouldn’t have been far behind.
“What are you going to do?” she said. “Should we call the cops?”
I shook my head. “I think I should wait and see if I remember anything else so I can give them more details. It might not be too long because Lily being here is definitely helping. Way more stuff has come back since she arrived.”
“Like what?” Maya said quickly, and I explained about the hide-and-seek memory, which she confirmed was accurate, the blueberry pancakes, the movie, and the butterflies I’d seen after finding Fiona’s postcard. I left out the dragging feeling I’d experienced as I’d read the last words Celine had written to her family. I didn’t know what to do with that bit yet.
“How could I have forgotten about the postcard?” Maya said. “Fiona was so excited when it arrived. We were all certain more would follow, but they never did...”
“She mentioned that. Oh, and Lily also thought Dad loved soccer.”
Maya scrunched up her face. “Really? You mean you never told her about him going along with it because of you?”
“I guess not. But why wouldn’t I—”
“Listen, we’ll talk more but right now I’d better finish my shift before Patrick wonders if I’ve already left. Do you want a drink at the bar while you wait?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll go outside.”
I headed for the front door, relieved my conversation about Dave had gone well with Maya. I couldn’t blame her for wanting something to help her relax, although getting weed illegally was pretty stupid. Perhaps she’d feel less stressed with my memory returning some more, and again when I could help financially if I got a job as quickly as possible. Maya’s funds had to be dwindling, and it wasn’t fair for all that pressure to be on her, too. I sat down on a metal bench to the left of the door and leaned back, closing my eyes for a second as I tilted my face toward the sun, thinking.
“Hey, asshole.”
My eyes flew open. Keenan stood over me, his jaw clenched. “Christ, not you again,” I said. “What do you want?”
He leaned in closer, a waft of alcohol going up my nose. “The truth.”
“Seriously?” I stood up, putting a little distance between us. “I keep telling you I—”
“Can’t remember?” He let out a laugh. Cold, hard and full of hatred. “This amnesia stunt you’re pulling? You may have everyone else fooled around here, but not me. You’re a liar—”
“Maybe you’re the one lying. I hear Kate dumped you. What happened? Couldn’t handle the rejection? Decided to do something about it and blame me?”
“Nice try.” He lowered his voice, took a step toward me, fists clenched by his sides. “The cops couldn’t find evidence of what you did, but I’ll never stop looking. Do you hear me? I won’t stop until you’ve been shanked in prison and you’re bleeding out all over the ground.”
“Sounds like a threat.”
“Nah. It’s a fucking promise.”
“I don’t need this,” I said quietly. “For the last time, I don’t know—”
I didn’t see the punch coming before Keenan’s fist connected with my middle. I stumbled backward.
“Did that jog your memory?” he said before coming for me again.
This time I was ready. I took two steps back, weaving out of the way as his hand almost slammed into the wall of the restaurant. I wished it had. Maybe he’d have broken a few bones, although with the rage on his face, I didn’t think some busted knuckles would’ve been enough to stop him. Keenan cursed and rushed at me, sending us flying. I pushed him off, both of us scrambling to make it to our feet before the other. A second passed, then two, and with a deafening roar, Keenan lunged for me again. As I stepped to the side and brought up my knee, hitting him squarely in the gut, he let out a grunt. He grabbed my arm and threw me backward. When I landed, something sharp dug into my shoulder and I jumped up, brushing a shard of glass from my skin, the remains of an old broken bottle I’d landed on. I ignored the steady gush of blood making its way to my fingers, and Keenan’s smirk made me want to pound him into the ground. He wanted a fight. I’d give him one. He’d pissed me off one time too many.
“Plenty more where that came from, dipshit,” he said. He was about to charge me again when the front door to the restaurant burst open and Maya stormed out, eyes ablaze.
“What the hell are you doing?” she shouted.
“Teaching him a lesson,” Keenan said. “And he started it.”
Maya laughed, indicating behind her with her thumb. “What are you, five? Think our security cameras will back you up? Let’s call Ricky, see if he believes your bullshit.”
Keenan held up his hands and backed away.
“Good decision,” Maya snarled as we watched him leave. “If you touch Ash again, he won’t be the one coming for you—I will.”
27
MAYA
Keenan took off, tires of his S
ubaru spinning. I opened my mouth to ask Ash what the hell had happened, what he’d been thinking, that with his concussion another blow to the head could be deadly. I was about to start berating him when my eyes dropped to his shoulder, and I gasped when I saw the blood.
“Ash, you cut yourself.”
He waved me off. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. We have to get you inside.”
“It’s a cut, I’m not losing an arm. I’ll fix it when I get home.”
I disagreed, but he didn’t look like he was in the mood for another argument. Pushing him down on the bench, I said, “Fine. I’ll get my stuff. Give me a minute.”
Ash grunted but gave in, so I rushed inside and grabbed my things. That Keenan had gone after Ash was no surprise, with their history it had been a long time coming, but thankfully I’d been here to put a stop to it. What was it with everyone today? Fiona had always been such a goody-goody blabbermouth (translation: nosy bitch), but she’d blindsided me by telling Ash about Dealer Dave and triggering more of his memories with that damn postcard. The latter was a problem I’d have to handle somehow, and good thing I’d come up with the weed story so fast. The expression on his face when I’d told him I’d needed it because of his return was exactly what I’d wanted, and the revelation made him back off immediately. Still, if I needed another supply of benzos, and so far I hadn’t touched the stuff, I definitely needed to get them from someone else. Then there was Lily’s soccer comment, but that, too, could be handled. It was my word against hers.
I had a more pressing problem in Lily, who’d obviously been sharpening her claws and was digging into Ash more quickly and deeply than I expected. My mind sped ahead, calculating twists, turns and outcomes. By the time I stepped outside the Cliff’s Head to rejoin Ash, I’d reengineered my plan, and we were in my car, heading home. That’s what sly people do, adjust and pivot seamlessly without anybody noticing what’s going on until it’s too late. Of course, the cleverest among us never let on we’re doing anything in the first place.
As I drove us home, Ash pressed a clean damp cloth I’d taken from the kitchen over the gash in his shoulder. Goddamn it, my anger toward Lily and Keenan simmered right beneath the surface, ready to burst forth. A large part of me wanted to let it. See what would happen. But no, softly—softly would work far better in the longer run.
“Keenan’s insane,” I said, gripping the steering wheel. “I’m tired of his stupidity and random accusations. Someone’s got to put a stop to this bullshit, once and for all.”
“I would’ve punched him if you hadn’t arrived, maybe that would’ve helped.”
I scoffed, couldn’t help taking some of my emotions out on Ash. “And get a more busted head in the process? That would make him happy.” I let out a wry laugh and drove on in silence, thinking how Keenan had calmed down after Ash had left Newdale. More than once I’d wondered if it was because he’d forced Ash to scribble the hasty goodbye note before taking him into the woods somewhere and leaving him to die. In my darkest moments, the thought had almost been easier to cope with than knowing Ash left of his own free will. But now that he was home, there was no way the pair of them would ever call a truce. Keenan wouldn’t let this feud go, even if Ash whooped his ass multiple times over.
When we got home, Ash tried fobbing me off again as I insisted I look at his wound, but I didn’t give in. Once in the bathroom he sat on the floor, leaning against the tub as I fetched bandages and first-aid supplies from the cabinet under the sink. I dabbed an antiseptic-soaked cotton bud on the gash, holding firm as he winced and cursed under his breath.
“It’s a neat cut and there’s nothing in it,” I said. “Barely an inch and not as deep as I thought. You don’t need stitches. I’ll use these strips instead.”
“Good, because I’m not going to the hospital. I’ve had enough people poking me with needles to last a lifetime.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Look who’s talking. You fell off your bicycle and refused to see a doctor.”
“My accident,” I said with a gasp, willing him to go on, to recall everything.
“We were outside,” he said slowly. “You skidded on the gravel and cut your leg when you crashed into Dad’s garden shovel. It was my fault. I’d left it lying on the ground, and it made a really deep gash, right here.” He leaned in, reached out and touched my calf with the tip of his finger, making my skin tingle. My breath became shallow as I watched him furrow his brow in concentration, almost as if doing so would make more memories flow from my body to his.
I remembered the day, of course I did. I’d watched The Fast and the Furious again and pretended to be Letty because she was the most badass character I’d ever seen. I still had the result of my bicycle-drifting mishap on my leg, exactly where Ash had touched me, a smooth scar he’d always said looked like Lake Erie.
“I made you promise not to tell Mom because I didn’t want stitches,” I whispered, the excitement of something about the two of us coming back so intense, it almost made me want to throw up. I couldn’t lie, wouldn’t pretend he was mistaken or it wasn’t true. This memory was different. It was about him and me.
“Small things are coming back all the time,” Ash said. “I’m getting little glimpses here and there. I don’t tell you about all of them—”
“What?” I stared at him, blinking hard as my stomach lurched. “Why?”
“Because they might not be real. How many times have you told me I’m mistaken?”
“But you’ll only know if you ask me.”
“Or Lily,” he added.
“Yes, her, too,” I said, forcing a smile as the rest of my cheerfulness evaporated at the mention of her name. I couldn’t be happy while she and Keenan kept disrupting our lives and messing with Ash’s head. It was time to problem solve, tackle things full-on. “You’ll be okay, right? I have to go out for a while, but I won’t be long. You wash up and we can make dinner when we get back.”
“About that,” he said. “I invited Lily over.”
“That’s great,” I said, and before he had a chance to answer or see the expression on my face, I headed for the door. Once outside I got in my car and made the short trip to Keenan’s. He stood in the garage, his head bent over the engine of his car, a pack of tallboys by his feet, two discarded crumpled cans lying by an overflowing garbage can. When I got out of my car and he turned around, a smirk spread over his face.
“How’s the patient?” he said. “Bled to death yet?”
“Stay away from him, Keenan.”
“What is it with you women? First Fiona gives me a hard time, now you. He had it coming, he still does.”
“Stay away from Ash or—”
“Or what?” He waved his hands around in mock terror. “You and Ms. Hetherington are going to gang up on me? Help me. I’m scared.”
“Who?”
“Lily, your new BFF.” He raised his eyebrows and let out a long whistle. “So, you had no idea she changed her name? I did wonder...and tell you what, with her dubious past she’s the perfect match for your asshole of a stepbrother.”
I stared at him, watched his grin widen. “What are you talking about?”
“I guess being friends with Ricky has more than one advantage, but why don’t you google it. See what comes up.” He smirked even harder as he reached for his beer, winking at me before taking a long swig and giving me a wouldn’t you like to know grin, which made me want to stab him with his screwdriver. I ignored him and got back in my car, hands trembling as I shifted into Reverse. Before I got home, I pulled over and grabbed my phone, and as I plugged Lily Hetherington into the search engine, the anticipation of what I might find became almost unbearable.
It took a lot of digging, scrolling and patience, but after a few minutes, there it was—a mug shot from the night she’d been arrested, her mascara smud
ged in teary rivers down her translucent cheeks. I read article after article, my heart pounding with elation. Lily wasn’t the innocent little Snow White she liked to portray. She had a sleazy past, a rotten history—one I could, and would, use. Getting rid of her was going to be so easy now, it almost wasn’t fun.
Suppressing the urge to laugh out loud, I dialed the Cliff’s Head and asked for Patrick.
28
LILY
It was almost surreal how quickly things had changed over the past few days. As soon as the renovation supplies arrived the morning after we’d been to the beach, Ash and I got started on the garage. As we worked, he’d told me about his altercation with Keenan outside the Cliff’s Head, and showed me the cut on his shoulder, but reassured me he felt fine, I shouldn’t worry. I did at first, until I realized there were more pressing issues at hand than Keenan’s misplaced anger.
While Ash had initially felt the recovery of his memory was gaining traction since I’d arrived in Newdale, it led to him throwing himself into the garage project with vehemence. On the first evening, he’d fallen asleep on the sofa shortly after dinner, and according to Maya he’d stayed there until the next morning. The second night hadn’t been much better and every day he seemed increasingly tired. Both Maya and I joined forces in an effort to get him to slow down, congratulating one another on day three when he agreed to ease off.
I knew he loved the feeling that accomplishing something gave him, and the rush he felt from being physically active, but there seemed to be more to it than that. He wasn’t just worn-out from working, and when I pressed him, he let slip that sometimes his mind felt befuddled and cloudy, and he worried he’d stopped progressing, or worse, was going backward. I reminded him how Dr. Adler had phoned from vacation the day before to say he’d received Ash’s blood-work results, and everything was fine. The news had done little to appease Ash’s frustration. It was understandable, he wanted his memories, and to feel normal again, but with the way things were going, he worried it might never happen.
You Will Remember Me Page 24
