His to Take (Wicked Lovers #9)(94)
Author: Shayla Black

Each memory seemed crystal clear now. How had she forgotten so much of her past for a moment, much less for years? Even more came rushing back. Her mother had often wrapped up her long hair and danced through the house when she’d thought her “baby” was napping. Bailey used to sneak out of her bed and watch. Her siblings had often liked to play hide-and-seek indoors, especially when it snowed. If their father was watching TV or studying his research notes, he’d sometimes lose his temper and bluster. But spats would always end in hugs, tickles, and giggles.

As Joaquin eased her from the dining room into the kitchen, she stopped. Faded linoleum countertops in a graying white sat on top of oak cabinets with old-fashioned scalloped trim. Some of the doors hung off the hinges now. Idly, she supposed that all the food had been cleared out or the stench would be unbearable. The white refrigerator still stood in the corner, no longer humming. The stove had been ancient fifteen years ago, and now looked like a relic.

Her memories of her mother were strongest here. She hadn’t been much of a cook, according to her father, but he’d always appreciated her effort. Mama would toil for hours, trying to cook a special stew or soup, especially when winters turned cold. Daddy had often smiled at her effort, but looked as if he were choking on the result.

Bailey felt her lips lift in a little grin. So many good memories here. So many forgotten ones, like her brother’s last birthday party and the cake that had somehow plopped onto the kitchen floor before anyone had taken a bite. Her last summer here, an old dog had wandered into their yard one day, sans identification tags. Her bother had named him X-Man. The big German shepherd mix hadn’t lasted long before age took him, but Bailey remembered loving the big, protective canine and crying the day he died.

“You all right?” Joaquin asked softly beside her.

Tears welled, but she nodded. “So much is coming back to me. I don’t know . . . This whole time in my life was blank. Now that I’m standing here, I remember everything.”

He stroked a tender hand down her hair. “I’ll stay with you. If anything scares you, just grab on to me. If you remember something about the case . . .”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Or if you want to talk about anything, I’m here.”

Joaquin guided her out of the kitchen, through the little family room that overlooked the backyard. She recalled running out there in the sprinklers. Of course, everything was dormant now at the end of a long winter, the overgrown brown weeds nearly obscuring the back fence.

On the other side of the room, she caught sight of the part of the house she’d most dreaded—the hallway that led back to the bedrooms. As she stared into the opening, a lump of terror gathered in her belly. Whatever she didn’t want to remember had happened on this side of the house.

“You ready?”

They were losing the light, so she had to be. Slowly, she nodded, feeling that lid to Pandora’s box creaking open in her head.

He stepped through the opening into the hall first. The moment his athletic shoes hit the worn parquet floor, she pictured another man standing on that same surface. She closed her eyes and followed the memory. Her father had picked her up that afternoon and cuddled her, sung his version of the nursery rhyme with her, then made her promise never to forget it. Finally, he’d sent her outside through the back door at the end of this hall.

Bailey didn’t want to open her eyes and look down that long strip of house that led to the portal, but there was nowhere else to look. Dark, musty, seemingly innocuous. But the moment she lifted her lids, a vision from the past assailed her. The walls splashed with red. The wooden floors slick with the warm, oozing liquid. Blood everywhere. She’d seen it after her father had been dragged away, after she’d come in from her brother’s fort. Had the stranger simply come in and shot everyone?

She frowned. The memory seemed so close, but she couldn’t access it. Something stood in her way . . .

“Do you need to pause here for a minute or do you want to move on?”

Bailey wanted to leave the house altogether, but that wasn’t an option. She’d have no future if she didn’t confront the past. “Let’s move on.”

The first bedroom on her right was her brother’s. Tiptoeing to the opening, she found herself staring at the faded blue walls. A Star Wars poster had been ripped nearly in half, even as the edges clung to the wall. His bunk beds had been stripped of bedding. But she couldn’t miss the huge red stain marring the mattress on the bottom bunk. And she couldn’t escape the memory of her brother in his bed, lifeless, bleeding from a bullet to the head. He’d turned nine a few weeks earlier.