Accidental Shield (Marriage Mistake #6)(75)

Mother ices over. I can see it in her expression, and I remember that, too.

She’s a human ostrich. Always denying bad things, racing to stick her head in the sand at the first sign.

Just like when we were kids and Ray would do something nasty, she’d deny it for him. And she wouldn’t believe me when I told her the truth about her golden boy.

My heart starts racing. Tears sting my eyes.

There’s too much hitting too hard, too fast, too soon.

I grab Flint’s arm with my other hand.

“We should go now,” I whisper, twisting in my seat.

Concern flashes in his eyes. He stands, then helps me up.

“You’re leaving so soon? Where?” Mother asks.

“I’m going back to Flint’s place, Mother.”

“On the Big Island? Another flight? But you just got here. Valerie, this is highly unusual,” she snaps, her eyes flitting back and forth, genuinely confused. “You hardly ever stayed the night at a friend’s house when you were little. And when you went to college, well, we don’t need to rehash that.”

College? I need air.

“I’m not so little now, Mother. I’m an adult. I just need space.”

“Space from me? Your own mother?” she gasps, turning her hand around to point at her chest.

“From Ray.” I watch her blink, stunned, like I just tore a hole in her world.

Flint has an arm around me, and I need that, too. The panic surfaces inside me, this invisible cord around my neck, threatening suffocation.

He turns me toward the door, walking close beside me.

“A-are you ill, girl? You look pale. Are you certain you’ve seen a good doctor?” Mother follows, all questions, stuttering as she walks.

I can’t speak.

New flashbacks keep hammering my head, frying it like a freaking egg.

So many times over the years when I was told to be quiet, to shut up, that I didn’t know what I was talking about.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Gerard,” Flint tells her. “She just needs to rest. The doctor said it’ll take time to fully heal.”

“Rest? Then she needs to stay here and see our doctor!” Mother says, her heels clicking after us. “Young man, you can’t just—”

Flint opens the door, walking me outside, beaming back a look that halts her mid-step.

“She’s been in great hands ever since the accident. She just wanted you to know she was okay. We’ll take it from here.”

The air, the sunshine, feels like sweet freedom. The flashbacks and pain drift away, little by little.

I glance up at Flint.

He winks at me, then tells my mother, “She’ll call you later, after she’s rested. I promise.”

“She knows more, Flint.” I wait until we’re in his truck, heading for the main road, before I say it.

“Is your memory coming back? Is that what happened back there?”

“No, not really. More like hints of images, little things, but I know. She knows more than she lets on.” Pressing a hand to my chest where there’s a heaviness, a fear, I sigh.

“Val?” he barks, glancing over.

“I feel it, Flint. She’s always known more, but she’s taught herself to deny it.”





12





Here Comes Trouble (Flint)





I can’t answer her.

I’m keeping one eye in my rear-view mirror, trained on the SUV that turned onto the street behind us shortly after we left the Gerard beach house. A house that was so damn dark and cloying inside I felt like I needed to squint in order to see anything.

I can’t believe Val ever had any say in how it was decorated, especially after seeing what she’d done with the upstairs bedrooms in my house. They’re light, cheerful, and breezy like her. Hardly the luxury bunker vibe that place had.

The SUV hangs close, even after I take a few corners. I know my man is back there, too, following just like I told him, but now I’m concerned about cutting through the center of the island to get back to my place.

Those roads are a lot less trafficked than the main highways. More than a few places where a vehicle could be forced off the road and over the cliffs with one or two well-timed punches of metal on metal.

“Those missing ships you mentioned to my mother, they’re King Heron boats, aren’t they?” she asks.

“Right,” I answer, taking yet another corner tighter, weaving my way through town.

“Are they recent?”

Shit. The SUV is still there.

It’s like they want me to know they’re trailing us.

“Depends what you mean by recent?” I ask.

“Since my accident?”

“Nope. No ships have turned up missing that recently, though there have been some shady shipments moving in and out of King Heron facilities around Pearl City,” I say.

I’m sure they’ve throttled back on sending more ships out to sea loaded with illicit cargo, into potential crossfire from rival groups. Not while they’re hunting her to make damn sure she can’t squeal.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” she asks, almost reading my thoughts. “They don’t know who I’ve told about them, if Ray thinks I was working with the police. Unless he said something, they don’t know about the amnesia.”