REMEMBER ME (Secrets of Spirit Creek Book 1)

by Linda Style

  He had mixed feelings about that, but once in the car, all he wanted to do was get it over with. Long Beach wasn’t all that far from where they were staying and before he knew it, they were driving through the neighborhood where his father was supposed to be living. The neighborhood was old and run-down, like an old man who couldn’t keep up with the pace of the younger generation. It wasn’t a neighborhood Linc would’ve chosen to live in, but then maybe his father hadn’t had a choice. If it weren’t for Tori, who knows where he’d be right now.

  Linc checked his directions. “Turn left at the next corner, then take a quick right and we should be there.” His stomach knotted as Tori drove closer. She turned left. His heart pounded. She turned right. His blood rushed. She stopped in front of the third house on the street and he couldn’t breathe.

  The place looked like a scrap yard, with old rusty vehicles, bikes and wagons and unidentifiable metal objects blanketing the small yard. The weeds growing between the piles of junk said the stuff had been there awhile. His stomach rumbled and he just sat there, unable to open the door.

  “I’ll wait in the car,” Tori said.

  “I’d like you to come in with me.”

  She turned to look at him. “You don’t need me. You’ll be fine.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.” He took a deep breath. “I know I have this mind-set about him, and that makes it hard for me to be objective. And if I have another one of those…spells…I don’t know what might happen.” He took her hand.

  Tori felt the apprehension in his touch, heard the plea in his voice. Was he afraid of what he might do?

  “I need you.”

  With those words, her fate was sealed. She couldn’t have refused if bombs were blowing up around them. And if his memory returned from seeing his father, those bombs could be going off very soon. But as much as she dreaded that happening, she had to hope, for his sake, that it did. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  They both got out of the car and Linc waited for her as she came around to his side. Then he took her hand as they walked to the door. He needed her. It had been a long time since anyone had needed her.

  The small, square house looked like military housing or project housing for the poor. Tori waited for Linc to knock on the door.

  Immediately a man’s gravelly voice said, “Go away.”

  Linc hesitated before calling out, “I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Well, I don’t want to talk to no one. Especially no damned bill collectors.”

  Linc bite his lower lip, then clenched his jaws as if to clamp down his anger. When he dropped her hand, she leaned in and whispered, “Tell him he’s won the lottery or something.”

  Linc’s shoulders seemed to relax a little and one side of his mouth tipped up in the tiniest suggestion of amusement. “You’re so devious.”

  “No, realistic. Pique his interest and he’ll open the door.”

  Linc glanced around, then said, “I’m not a bill collector. I want to talk to you about the old Chevy in your yard. I need to buy some parts for a car I’m fixing up.”

  Seconds later, the door creaked open, and a tall, wiry man with graying, unkempt hair stood in front of them. The smell of alcohol almost knocked Tori over.

  Eyeing them suspiciously, the man glanced toward the street and their car. “You have money?” he asked.

  “Are you Anton Crusoe?”

  Almost instantly the man’s face reddened and the veins on his neck bulged. “Liars. All you bill collectors are liars.” He jerked back. “Get the hell out of here before I get my gun.”

  “Wait,” Linc said. “You’re right. I lied. I’m not a bill collector. I’m your son.”

  The man stopped dead. He turned, pulled himself up and looked Linc in the eyes. “Well, son of a bitch.” Then he chuckled. “That’s true, you know. Your mother was a real bitch.”

  A muscle twitched near Linc’s eye, and he fisted his hands. Tori could tell he was reigning himself in. She couldn’t blame him for getting pissed. She’d like to nail the guy herself.

  The elder Crusoe kept looking at Linc, then finally he motioned to a wooden table in the corner of the room.

  They picked their way through old newspapers and empty cans and pizza boxes. Looking at the older man, Tori could see the family resemblance. Both men were close to the same height, but Linc’s father was a tad shorter, and had a lot less muscle mass. His face was leathery and his eyes bloodshot. He looked a hard sixty. For one fraction of a second, Tori’s artist brain had her thinking he’d make an interesting subject.

  “How’d you find me?” the older man asked. “And what do you want from me? I don’t got any money if that’s what’s on your mind.”

  Linc cleared his throat. “The Internet,” he said. “I found your address on the Internet. And I don’t want anything except to talk.”

  The elder Crusoe looked puzzled, his body rigid and tense, as if poised for flight if necessary. He picked up a cigarette from the table, lit it, took a drag and blew out the smoke. “What’s to talk about?”

  As she watched Linc, all she could think was how difficult this had to be for him. She didn’t have the easiest relationship with her parents, but their love was unquestionable, as was hers for them. They would do anything for her and vice versa.

  “This might seem strange, but—” Linc looked down—“I have this…problem with remembering. I thought if you could tell me some things about our family, it would help.”

  “Our family?”

  Linc nodded. “Yes. If you could just tell me what it was like when you were there. What I was like. And Danny. My brother. I just need to know something about that time.”

  The man scoffed. “That’s ree-al easy. Your mother was a whore, your brother was always in trouble and got himself killed. He got in trouble because he was stupid. You were headed down that road, too, when I left.” He flicked the ashes of his cigarette onto the floor. “That’s what it was like.”

  Horrified, Tori glanced at Linc for his reaction, but he looked as if he were wearing a mask, his expression cast in stone. She had no clue what he might be thinking, but if it was the same as her, he was restraining himself from doing something he’d regret.

  “Did you know I was in jail?” Linc asked with no inflection in his words whatsoever. No hint of emotion.

  Linc’s father shook his head. “Nope. But it doesn’t surprise me. Bad blood runs in the family. Did some hard time myself.” He held out both arms to show his tattoos.

  Tori could almost see the air leave Linc’s lungs and it seemed an effort for him to stand. She rose along with him, took his hand and felt his grip tighten around hers. “Let’s go,” she said softly.

  “What, you don’t like our family history, little lady?” The man’s words slurred as he pulled himself to his feet. “Not good enough for your blue blood?”

  Still holding Tori’s hand, Linc bolted forward, face-to-face with his father. “Say one more disrespectful word to her and you’re a dead man.”

  The guy stumbled back a little. “I’m just sayin’—” he waved a hand at Linc “—sometimes it’s the luck of the draw. And—” he jabbed his forefinger into Linc’s chest “—and, buddy, you got a damned bad hand.”

  Linc pulled Tori toward the door, but as they were leaving, the old man continued. “You always thought you were better, didn’t you. Thought you could change your spots. But I guess you found out differently, didn’t you, Linc. Apples and trees. That’s all it is. You want him, young lady, you better be prepared to get the worm.”

  They hurried to the car. Linc slammed the car door so hard Tori thought the windows would shatter. Thank God she was driving and not him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  IT WAS ALMOST DARK when they returned to the hotel. “Let’s go watch the fireworks,” Linc said, his first words since visiting his father.

  “I’m there. Just give me a minute to use the bathroom.”

  Tori was happy to go out and do any
thing. During the ride back, she’d tried several times to get his mind off what had happened, but to no avail. She’d asked if he was hungry, asked if he wanted to watch a movie, asked if he wanted her to go out and leave him alone, but his only response had been a head shake.

  “And maybe we can grab a bite to eat,” she suggested.

  “Some rides, too,” Linc said.

  She didn’t know what prompted the sudden change, but she wasn’t going to question it. Being active might get him thinking about other things besides his father. While their visit hadn’t turned out the way Linc had wanted, he’d learned a few things. Like what a bastard his good-for-nothing jerk father was…and that he was well rid of him. How could anyone be so heartless and cruel? Linc didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve any of it.

  And yet, he withstood it all. He possessed a strength few men would ever have. To her, he was the epitome of true grit.

  Later, waiting in line for a roller coaster again, Linc took her hand and said, “Thanks.”

  This time, she didn’t ask for what. She squeezed his hand, her defenses totally gone. They got on the ride, her adrenaline pumping. She needed to scream, to find release for the emotions bottled up inside her. With all that was going on with Linc, it was only a matter of time before he remembered, or found out about her some other way. She felt as if she were sitting on a time bomb about to explode. She just didn’t know when.

  She needed more time. Time for him to get totally well and on his feet again. That’s when she would tell him the truth. He deserved to know, but not yet. She couldn’t take the chance he’d leave before he was ready. But, like a dark and ominous thundercloud, the knowledge that she would have to tell him hung over her every moment of every day.

  Once belted in, she tensed, waiting for the initial blastoff. Linc gave her an evil grin. In a shot, they were off, so fast she felt as if they were rocketing to the moon, the wind pulling on her face, her hair whipping straight out like a flag behind her. On the incline, they both raised their arms and screamed bloody murder as they plunged fifteen feet at least. Her stomach did a somersault and her heart pounded so hard she thought her chest might explode. Seconds later, rolling into the finish line, adrenaline shot through her veins like a bullet train on steroids.

  As Linc helped her out, she said, “Let’s do it again.”

  After a few more rides, it was almost time for the fireworks, so they grabbed a quick hot dog, got some ice-cream cones and found a bench under a tree near the Sleeping Beauty Castle. Her muscles alternately ached from the tension on the rides and vibrated from the excitement.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, almost breathless and falling in a lump onto the bench. “That was amazing.” She relaxed against the back of the seat, her eyes catching his. “So…what’s the verdict? Has Disneyland been all you thought it would be?” Her ice cream finished, she licked her lips.

  He leaned closer. “Better. Much better.” And then he kissed her.

  She pulled back.

  “Just wanted to taste your ice cream,” he said.

  She leaned forward. “Did you like it?”

  “Very much. I might like some more.”

  She lifted her chin and just as his lips met hers, she heard a blast, like a gunshot, and the night sky exploded with color, sparkling red, white and blue and gold and green―one display after another. Music filled the air, and both of them watched the sound and light show like little kids, their mouths open and smiling and laughing at the kaleidoscope in the sky. Linc put his arm around her, his hand rested comfortably on her shoulder.

  Tori’s heart thundered in her chest as she leaned against him. “This,” she said softly, “is a truly magical place.” A magical night. One she would always remember.

  Linc stretched out his arms in a dramatic gesture, then yawned. “Y’know, I’m getting kinda tired,” he said. “How about you?”

  Grinning, she exaggerated a yawn, too. “Yeah. All of a sudden, I can barely keep my eyes open.”

  He took her hand again. “We could watch the rest of the fireworks from the room.”

  “We could,” she agreed. And if he thought that, he was certifiable.

  How they got to the room was a blur, but they’d barely closed the door when reality smacked her. She wanted this, more than anything. But no good could come of it. Not under the current circumstances. She shouldn’t. Couldn’t. Could she? And despite all rational thought, her body felt as if it were on fire, a fire that only Linc could quench.

  Linc shut the door, pulled her close and kissed her, and in that one breath-stealing moment, all her reservations dispersed like water in wine. She kissed him back, brought her arms around him and felt him shudder.

  “Are you sure about this?” he whispered.

  She answered with a deeper kiss, then said, “No, but it’s what I want.”

  “Good,” he said. “Only I have to warn you, it’s been so long, I can’t guarantee anything.”

  “Shh,” she said. “Let’s just let it happen. It’s been a long time for me, too. Too long.”

  They kissed again, this time deeper, more passionately, tongue meeting tongue, creating a sensual push-pull dance that she wanted to go on and on. Still kissing, they moved in tandem toward the bed, both unbuttoning, unzipping, clothes flying in all directions. If they kept up this pace it would all be over in five minutes. But she didn’t care.

  When they were naked on the bed, arms entwined, Linc pulled back and looked at her, touched her cheek ever so gently with the tips of his fingers, as if she were a delicate keepsake to be treasured. His face was side lit from the light coming in through the open balcony doors. But she could see the emotion in his eyes, and she knew then—this wasn’t all about sex. He cared about her.

  And she loved him. Tears filled her eyes as she tangled her legs around him, pulling him closer so she could feel the length of him against her, his skin warm against hers. She wanted to be as close as possible for as long as possible.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Truly beautiful.” Then he kissed her again, this time soft and gentle, and when he was done, he moved to her throat and touched his tongue to the hollow at the base. Chills ran up her spine. Pleasure spasms shivered through her, obliterating all conscious thought. All she wanted was to give herself to him in every way. Still kissing her neck, he ran his hands down her sides and over her hips in a truly gentle way, and she couldn’t help saying, “For a man who’s been deprived, you have enormous restraint.”

  He kissed her again and she moved against him, wanting him more than she could’ve imagined wanting anyone. Her desire, her raw need to make love with Linc superseded everything.

  Their kisses deepened, he touched between her legs and her body jerked from the pleasure. “Tell me what you like,” he said suddenly, urgently. “I want to please you now, because any restraint I have isn’t going to last long.”

  She didn’t know what she liked, because she’d always had to psych herself up before, and it had always been quick and ended without satisfaction on her part. She’d figured it was her fault. Her problems that interfered.

  But she had no problem now. She liked what Linc was doing to her, stroking gently, slipping his fingers inside. She didn’t want him to stop, and she wanted to please him, too. More than anything she wanted that. She wanted to make him feel as good as he made her feel. But she didn’t know if she could.

  “You can touch me, too,” he whispered.

  She wanted to, but hesitated. She’d never been able to please Dylan, and she didn’t want Linc to be disappointed. When she didn’t respond, he took her hand in his and placed it over him. He was warm and hard and it seemed such a natural thing to do. Then he moaned. “Maybe we better not do that.”

  “That’s okay,” she whispered. “We have all night.”

  She thought she heard a soft “Thank you,” but she wasn’t sure.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  TORI WOKE EARLY, saw Linc asleep at her side and snu
ggled against him. Usually, she slept with one ear open, her senses always at ready. But last night, after making love twice, she’d slept more soundly than she had in years. And early this morning, she’d dreamed of dancing in the flower gardens at her childhood home in Phoenix, her place of escape as a child. She’d felt free—as if she’d shed a heavy weight.

  Maybe it was the knowledge that she really could give herself to someone as she had with Linc. Maybe it was because her feelings for Linc went so deep that somehow, in this whole jumble of horrible mistakes and tortured lives, there was hope for both of them.

  She had to hold on to that hope, at least for Linc. Though she’d thought she’d come to grips with the fact that he’d hate her when he found out, she hadn’t. Her heart ached just thinking about it.

  She slipped from the bed and went to the bathroom, washed, threw on some sweats and tennis shoes and left a note that she was going to go for a jog and get some coffee. And think about what to do next.

  Linc was finding out more about himself, and seemed to be remembering bits and pieces, but nothing he could put together. Maybe he never would. If he didn’t know their past…if she didn’t tell him… No. She banished the thought. God, how could she even think that?

  Once outside, she left the hotel grounds and started running, forced herself to focus on what Linc had told her. Zack, his friend, must have lied about not being with Linc that night. She’d read only part of the lengthy transcripts, and it was so long ago, she only vaguely remembered Gordon telling her that the evidence showed Crusoe had lied. But if Linc was innocent, it was the other guy who’d lied. And why would he do that if he was with Linc that night?

  In retrospect, her participation in Linc’s trial seemed so small. She really didn’t know what had gone on. She’d drawn a picture of the man who’d attacked her, told her story to the police and given her testimony in a closed courtroom. She’d been ripped apart by Linc’s attorney, but in the end, the man who’d attacked her had been found guilty. She’d believed that for ten years.