What she didnt know, p.1
What She Didn’t Know, page 1
What She Didn’t Know
Tammy Falkner
Night Shift Publishing
Copyright © 2017 by Tammy Falkner
What She Didn’t Know
E Edition
Night Shift Publishing
ISBN-13: 9781634550406
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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.
Contents
Synopsis
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Coming Soon!
Also by Tammy Falkner
Synopsis
I met my wife when we were both sixteen years old. She quickly became my everything. Twenty years later, she still is.
Everyone thought Lynn was crazy. They warned me from the moment I met her that one day she would break me. I didn’t care. I wanted her—and all her crazy. Always.
What no one saw was that my crazy far surpassed Lynn’s. I just held mine close to my heart. I held it in shadow while Lynn wore hers in the sun. But I knew it was there, right beneath the surface. I just never told anyone.
Ultimately, part of our relationship was based on truths only the two of us knew, and that was unavoidable. No matter what, I always knew one thing was true: I loved Lynn with all my heart.
I always thought what Lynn didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her…until it did.
In the end, her crazy didn’t break me. Mine did.
1
The buzzer on my desk phone went off and I ignored it, preferring to push papers around on my desk, pretending to look busy. I had patient charts to review, medications to approve, and a plethora of patients who were waiting for me to make my rounds. But first…first I had to find her. I had to find Lynn.
I had to at least try, although in my heart of hearts I knew she wouldn’t be found until she was good and ready.
The phone buzzed again, and I hit the appropriate button to mark myself busy so no one could buzz me anymore. I had too much on my mind. I knew I might even have to take a few days off so I could get my shit together.
I’d checked her bank accounts. I’d checked her credit cards. Her social media profile. Her phone. I’d checked everything, and I still had no idea where she was.
Suddenly, the door of my office flew open, slammed hard against the opposite wall, and in rolled a ball of fire.
Ash.
My secretary followed her, trying to stop her forward trajectory, to no avail.
“What the fuck did you do?” the intruder snarled, bending over my desk so she could slam her fist on the wood in front of me.
My heart eased a little. If Ash was here, things would be okay. She could help me find Lynn. She might already know where she was.
I sat back in my chair and made a steeple of my hands in front of me. “Ash,” I said with a nod. “Always a pleasure.”
“Dr. Peterson, I’m so sorry,” my secretary stammered from behind Ash. “I told her you didn’t want to be disturbed, but she wouldn’t listen.” She reached for Ash’s arm, but Ash jerked back and then made a move like a charging bull at the poor woman. Mrs. Anderson blanched and backed up against the wall, her hand upon her heart.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Anderson,” I said calmly.
“I told her, Dr. Peterson, I really did,” she said, her voice shaking in the presence of the fury that was Ash.
“It’s okay,” I said again calmly. “She can stay. Can you close the door on your way out?”
“Do you want me to call security?” Her gaze dragged up and down Ash’s clothing, stopping on the torn jeans where we could all see a little too much of Ash’s thigh. Then paused again on the cropped shirt that was short enough to show a strip of soft, supple stomach. The lace of her bra, which stuck out the top of the ripped shirt she wore, was torn and frayed. The dirty, scuffed, overfilled backpack she carried had all her worldly possessions in it, I was sure. Ash liked to travel light. And dirty.
“No,” I said, still not moving. “You can close the door. We have a little business to take care of.”
“Are you certain, Dr. Peterson?” she insisted, her gaze jumping from me to Ash and back.
Ash lifted her voice high and mocked Mrs. Anderson. “Are you certain, Dr. Peterson?” she chimed. “Of course he’s certain, bitch. Now get out.” Ash made a move like she was going to jump toward Mrs. Anderson, and Mrs. Anderson scurried quickly to the door. Ash slammed it shut behind her.
“So nice to see you, Ash,” I said slowly.
“Where the fuck is she?” Ash perched her curvy little ass on the edge of the chair on the other side of my desk. She rested her arms on the desk and glared at me.
“What makes you think she’s gone?” I asked. I pretended to be occupied with the papers on my desk, stacking them into organized piles.
“I just left your house. She’s not there.”
“Lynn’s not a prisoner, you know,” I reminded her. Although, if I was truly honest, I knew she kind of was. She didn’t leave home, not unless something was terribly wrong, or one of her closest friends was with her, or unless I was with her.
“Lynn’s not a prisoner,” she parroted. “What did you do?” She glared at me.
“When was the last time you had a shower?” I countered.
She froze, but didn’t answer my question.
Ash was a friend of Lynn’s, and she lived on the streets most of the time when she was in town. She did odd jobs, a little waitressing when she could find someone with poor enough standards to hire her. With her heavy eyeliner, deep-black lipstick, and combat boots, she was a study in contradictions. Deep down, I knew she was good. But on the surface, she was bad. Very, very bad.
“Where have you been sleeping?” I asked mildly.
“Here and there.” She kicked back in the chair and lifted her scuffed and worn combat boots to rest on the edge of my desk.
“While Lynn’s gone, I want you to stay at our house.” I got up and walked around to her. “Take a shower. Get cleaned up. I’ll come home later and we can talk.” I sat on the edge of the desk and scooted over until her feet were against my hip. She softened as soon as I touched her, just like she always did. She might be tough as shoe leather on the outside, but on the inside, she was as soft as cotton. “We can make a plan. Find her.”
“Do you want her back?” she asked. Her eyes skittered around, looking everywhere but at me, so I bent over and captured her chin with my fingers.
“I always want her back,” I said. “Always.” The vehemence of my words startled even me.
“What did you do?” she asked again.
“I didn’t do anything.” Not this time.
“The last time she vanished like this was when you asked her to marry you,” Ash reminded me.
“I know.” She was gone for almost two weeks. I had to deal with Ash then, too. And several of Lynn’s other friends. “She came back, though. She always comes back.”
“I’m worried about her,” Ash whispered.
“I am too.” I laid my hand on her shin and gave it a squeeze. Her eyes fell closed and a tiny tear escaped, streaking across her black makeup, leaving a sooty trail down her cheek.
“I need for her to come back. It’s been a long time since she’s done this.” Ash laid her head back against the back of the chair, following her words with a damp, tear-stricken groan.
Two years, four days, and twenty-two hours since the last time Lynn vanished. “Did she say anything to you? Give you any indication she was stressed over something?”
She shrugged. “It’s not like she talks to me every day.”
“I know.” I patted her leg again, lingering just a little too long. Her eyes flew open and her gaze met mine. “Go home. Take a shower. You stink. I’ll be there later. We’ll talk.”
She glanced toward where my hand rested comfortably on her leg. “Talk,” she repeated.
“Yes, talk.” I couldn’t keep the corners of my lips from tipping up into a grin.
She lowered her feet to the floor and slowly stood up beside me, pressing her lithe body against mine. “Last time she was gone, we did more than talk.”
I remembered. “That was a m
Her eyes roamed up and down my body. “A mistake that tasted like it was right.” She licked her lips. “Damn. I missed you.”
In my own fucked-up way, I missed her too. “Go home. I’ll be there in a few hours. I have some things I have to do here.”
She nodded. Then she stepped onto her tiptoes and waited, her face tilted up toward mine. I bent and kissed her lips quickly and softly. “Later,” I whispered. “I’ll see you later.”
She nodded and walked toward the door. I opened it for her and stepped to the side, my back against the open door. She lifted her hand, each finger tipped with black nail polish, and stroked her finger down my tie.
“Not here,” I whispered.
“I know,” she whispered back. “Because I’m not her.”
I studied her face, searching for the features I knew so very well. “No, you’re not her.”
She nodded sadly and left.
I closed my door and rushed across the room to pick up the phone. I dialed my mom’s emergency number.
“Mason,” my mom said as soon as the phone rang once. She sounded out of breath. “Did you find her?”
“No, but Ash was here.”
Silence was the only response. “Mom?” I prompted.
“If Ash was there, Lynn’s okay.”
I knew that, but it didn’t make it any easier. “I want Lynn back.”
“I know you do, son. Just give it time. These things have a way of cycling around.”
“Mom…” I heaved out a sigh.
“I know,” she said softly. “But you know she’s safe. That’s what matters.”
What mattered was getting Lynn back, and I’d do anything to make that happen.
2
I stood outside the door of my own house with my forehead pressed against the cool wood, taking deep breaths as I counted to ten. It was a calming technique my mother had taught me many years before, and I still used it when I was stressed. I felt the motion of the inhale until my lungs were full, and then visualized myself blowing all the bad feelings out of my body.
Suddenly, the door flew open and I stumbled into the living room.
“How long were you going to stand there breathing heavily?” Ash asked.
She stood in front of me with one hand on her cocked hip. Her top half was in a t-shirt that reminded me more of a fish net, and I could see her bra through it. Her jeans were cut so short that I could see the curves of her ass when she walked back toward the kitchen.
Hell, beggars couldn’t be choosers. At least she’d showered. I could still smell Lynn’s shampoo in the wake Ash left behind, and my heart clenched. Lynn was gone, and I’d been left with this poor, mouthy, and sometimes downright evil substitute.
The bad thing was that when it came to Ash, you never could guess what was going to happen next. One minute, she was sweet as pie. The next, she could have you by the balls. And right now, she had me by mine.
“Why don’t you go change? You’re too…” She stopped and tapped her chin while she thought of an appropriately cutting word. “Stiff,” she finally let burst from her lips. “And while that might be a good thing if we were talking about your dick, it is not cool to bring your stiffness home when I’m here. You know I don’t subscribe to the go-to-work-in-a-suit model.” Ash didn’t do nine-to-five. She never had. And she abhorred people who conformed, as she called it. “Your polyester is making me itch.” She pretended to scratch her arms.
I turned toward my bedroom—the bedroom I shared with Lynn—and walked inside. I stopped in the doorway when I saw that Ash had dumped her backpack on my bed. I looked through the few things she’d had in there, nudging paper to the side. There was nothing that might give me a clue as to who the owner was. The only thing of importance that was in her pack was a picture of me and Lynn at our wedding. We’d smiled at the camera. Lynn held a bouquet of flowers and I held Lynn. I picked up the picture and stormed back into the other room where Ash waited.
“Why do you have this?” I demanded.
She looked over her shoulder at me. “Have what?”
“This picture. Why do you have it?”
She shrugged. “She looked so happy. I wanted to remember it.” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Why does it bother you that I have it?”
It was our day, that was why. Mine and Lynn’s. No one else’s. “Never mind.” The last thing I wanted to do was hurt Ash. If I did, she’d refuse to help me. Then I’d never find Lynn.
“Put it back with my stuff, will you?” she called to my retreating back.
I changed out of my suit and put on a pair of track pants and a t-shirt. Then I went back out to the living room.
“When was the last time you heard from her?” I asked quickly.
She raised a brow at me. “Really, dickhead? You can’t just spend a few minutes with me before you start asking stupid questions?”
“Do you know where she is?” Please tell me you know where she is.
“No, but Shelly might. She contacted me today. I didn’t get to talk to her, and I’m trying to track her down.”
“What did Shelly say?”
She shrugged. “She didn’t say anything. I just said I didn’t get to talk to her, didn’t I? God, Mason. For a shrink, you’re a terrible fucking listener.”
I was a great listener. I just didn’t want to listen right now. I wanted to find Lynn.
Shelly was a subject I’d hoped to avoid. She was sophisticated and perfect and she wore pink ribbons in her hair. She never left the house when she wasn’t wearing pretty, feminine high heels and a strand of pearls around her neck. To be honest, she intimidated the hell out of me.
“Will you keep trying?”
“I can’t get hold of her right now. I just tried. I’ll keep trying.”
“I want you to stay here until Lynn comes back. Can you do that for me?” If she didn’t agree, I might have to spend every waking second with her, just so I could be sure she was safe. Lynn would want me to be sure Ash was safe while she was in town.
“I’ll stay as long as I can,” she said quietly.
I sat down on the other end of the couch from Ash. She pulled her feet up and turned to face me. “Will you tell me a story?” she asked. She placed her hands together like she was praying. “You know how much I love stories about you and Lynn. Tell me about the day you met.” She bounced on the seat. “Tell me about the day you knew it would be her forever. Always. Tell me that story. I love that one.”
For all of Ash’s gruff exterior, she was a marshmallow on the inside. The streets had made her tough, but her heart…her heart made her soft and lovable. You just had to dig past the makeup and shove the bad attitude to the side so you could get to the soft, smooshy part.
“I met her on my sixteenth birthday,” I said.
Ash clapped and let out a squeal. “Keep going. I want to hear every fucking thing.”
3
I had no idea of the many ways my life would change that day.
I sat at the kitchen counter eating a bowl of cereal, just like any other day, as my mother bustled through the room, her white lab coat draped over her arm. My father followed behind her, but he’d left his white coat at the office, apparently.
Dad poured two insulated tumblers of coffee, one for him and one for Mom, and pushed the tops closed. Mom reached for hers with a look of worship on her face.
“Not yet,” Dad said. He slapped her on the butt and pointed toward the door. “Once you’re in the car, you can have it. You’re making me late. Again.” He glared at her.
