Behind Every Lie(42)
“Eva. Hi.” He sounded pleased to hear from me. “How’s it going? Did you talk to David Ashford?”
I told him about finding out that David Ashford was in the hospital and what I’d learned at the British Library.
“Mom’s real daughter was a little girl called Eva Clarke, who died in a tragic accident,” I said. “Mom raised me as Eva Clarke, but I have no idea why, or who I really am, and if I can’t find David Ashford, I won’t be able to find out.”
I got up, peering through the wooden blinds. On the street below, a garbage truck cruised along, stopping every once in a while for the trash collector to toss black bags into the back.
“Why don’t you just visit him in the hospital?” Jacob suggested.
“I don’t know which one he’s at.”
“There aren’t that many in central London. Just call them and ask to be transferred to David Ashford’s room. You’ll eventually find the one he’s at.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I should just come home. I’m not finding anything, and the detective is probably going to issue an arrest warrant soon. Even my fiancé thinks I’m acting like a lunatic.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re so close to finding out the truth about Kat’s past. Your past.” His voice softened. “You can’t run away from this, Eva.”
“I’m not running away,” I said defensively. “I don’t run away.”
Jacob didn’t reply, and a long silence stretched between us. I tried to twist my ring, forgetting that nothing was there.
I hadn’t meant to sound so bitter. I didn’t want him to know that being left with just a note after our night together had hurt. Time had only calcified my resentment the way a kiln hardens clay. Now it was chipping off, fragments scattering, spilling out and slicing those who loved me.
“Is that what you thought?” Jacob finally said. “That I ran away?”
“No …”
“I wasn’t running away, Eva. I just needed some time to figure things out. I was scared shitless, okay? We went from best friends to sleeping together, and I didn’t want to fuck it up. You were worth more to me than that. But when I came back, you wouldn’t answer my calls. I had to find out what happened to you from Holly.”
Horror and shame slid through me. “She told you?” I whispered, aghast. I didn’t think he knew.
“She was worried about you. You moved back into your mom’s house and you wouldn’t talk to anybody.”
The hurt in his voice wrenched my heart tight with guilt. I didn’t want to think about it, to remember it, but there it was. The night I was attacked, my identity as a valuable, thinking person had been crushed because I couldn’t even remember it. I didn’t want anybody to know, because who would possibly want to step into that new world with me?
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” Tears sprang to my eyes, but I blinked them away. “I was scared and ashamed. I was afraid it was my fault, like maybe I was flirting with him or I drank too much. I don’t know what happened, really, because I don’t remember.”
“Don’t you know?” Jacob said gently. “You don’t have to remember it to know you weren’t to blame for it.”
For so long I’d been trying to move past it, around it. I’d moved all the way to Whidbey Island to get away from it. But it hadn’t worked. It was always there, tearing me up, breaking me to pieces.
Only now did I see—it didn’t matter how far I went; I couldn’t outrun myself.
twenty-one
kat
25 years before
“ROSE!” ADRENALINE PULSED WILDLY in my chest as I lunged for the gate Rose and Laura had disappeared behind. I rattled the locked handle. “Rose, please! Listen to me! Seb’s hired someone to kill you!”
I pressed my forehead to the gate, breathing heavily.
After a second the gate clicked open. I stepped back as Rose peered out at me uncertainly, Laura half hidden behind her legs. I tried to see myself through her eyes: a wild woman, dirty and disheveled hair, glazed eyes.
“You must be mistaken.”
“I’m not.”
“Then change his mind!”
I snorted in a distinctly unladylike fashion. Changing Seb’s mind when it was made up was a bit like negotiating one’s way up a cow’s arse. He would never stop until he got revenge.
“I truly wish I could. But he already has a man working on it. There’s a hit on you and Laura.”
Rose looked stricken, her face the color of damp chalk. In fact, she looked quite ill. Her eyes glittered madly, her cheekbones sharp and skeletal. The skin under her eyes sagged, her lips cracked in angry, raw patches.
She looked down at Laura, wrapped like a barnacle around her leg. “The police—”
“—are in Seb’s pocket,” I cut her off. “Look.” I lifted my top to show her the kidney-shaped bruise under my ribs. “Seb hits me, and I can’t go to the police because they won’t do anything about it. They know he’s involved in drugs, extortion, money laundering. They don’t do anything about it because he pays them not to.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Where is David? You mustn’t stay. Leave London for a while. I’ll send word when it’s safe to return.”