Chasing Memories: The Forevermore Series, Book 2 (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Please tell me you don’t believe her.” Amanda’s quiet voice thundered throughout the room.

Lucas walked the long path from the door to the sofa, each sluggish step a monumental effort as he staggered across the carpet. India was gone.

“Lucas?”

His blitzed brain registered the question, but he couldn’t come up with an appropriate answer. A numbing weight seemed to have settled in the center of his chest and radiated throughout him. India. Was. Gone. He sat on the sofa and scrubbed his hands over his face. His mind couldn’t make sense of it. Of anything.

The cushion dipped beside him. “I’m sorry. I understand that couldn’t have been easy for you, but you’re better off without her.”

Better?
How could it be better? India had left. Wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

“Now you can stop all these crazy shenanigans.”

Lucas’s gut twisted. “Just go.” He wanted to be alone.

Amanda jerked away. “So, you’re going to shut me out, just like you do with everyone else in your life.”

A cold, icy sensation flooded through him. Head pounding, he stared straight ahead, but couldn’t distinguish any of his surroundings. Everything blurred into indefinable blobs of all shapes and sizes.
Shit.
He couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything. The only thing his mind could focus on was India and the fact that she’d left. Walked away as if their time together meant nothing.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.
Of course it meant nothing.
She
meant nothing to him. They’d had a fling, not anything else. God, what the hell was wrong with him believing it could be more? He didn’t do the serious thing and neither did she. So, yeah, it’d been great while it lasted, but it had to end sometime. Didn’t it?

“Lucas? Are you okay?” Amanda asked.

Oh yeah, everything’s fucking perfect.
“I’m fine.” Why did he believe this time could be different? India was different?

“You believe her, don’t you?”

“Huh?”
Damn.
He didn’t want her questioning him. Not when he couldn’t put two cohesive sentences together. God, why wouldn’t his brain engage? “Not now.” He started to shake. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Of course you don’t. You
never
have time for anyone who cares about you, especially your family. You treat us all like second-class citizens.”

Something inside him snapped. He rounded on her. “How can you sit there in judgment of me when you stormed in here like a tornado with gale-force winds destroying everything in its path? You call that caring? How the hell did you get in here anyway?

Amanda lifted her hand in a mollifying gesture. “Your father let me in.”

Edward let her in? “Why would he do that?”

“Unlike you, Mom and I come to visit.”

Edward allowed Amanda and Aunt Susan to visit? Since when?
He isn’t the same person. He’s changed since you last saw him.
Alaina’s words whispered through his mind.

“Fine. Edward invited you in, but that doesn’t give you the right to waltz in here like you own the place.”

“Well, what do you expect? You’ve been acting irrational ever since Grams died.”

His hands clenched into tight fists. He jerked his head toward her and glared. “I am
not
behaving irrationally.”

“Yes, you are. For God’s sake. Look what you’ve done. You concocted some hair-brained scheme to hire the woman who is the prime suspect in Grams’s death.” Her voice began to rise. “That’s not normal.”

Lucas jumped up from the sofa, and traipsed back and forth across the room. “India is not a suspect. She’s as much a victim as Grams.”

“Says you.”

“No.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, hoping to stop the trembling. “Says the police.”

“You pulled her from the driver’s seat. She must have been driving.”

“Not true. She’d been trying to get out of the car. That’s why I found her there.”

“Lucas, please. You’ve got to stop this. She’s lying to you.”

“Audrey Soto saw Grams and India get into the car that night, and Grams got behind the wheel. The media got it wrong. India didn’t lie.”

Amanda’s face went pale. “No way. I don’t believe it. India did something to cause the accident. Why can’t you see that? She screwed up. When Grams learned the truth, she fired her. Ruined her career. She wanted revenge. Plain and simple.”

“Grams. Didn’t. Fire. India.”

Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes. “Why would Mom tell me she had if she hadn’t?” She blew out a breath. “The official report indicates India and her crew were negligent. The wall collapsed due to their carelessness. End of story.”

He didn’t believe it. Too many things didn’t add up. “You’re wrong.”

“No. I’m not. Even Brett agrees with me on this.”

“You and Brett have been discussing me?”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “You sent him to take care of your personal duties. He’s your business assistant. He should have stayed in Miami and you should have come here.”

“It’s not the first time he’s helped me out. He moved all of Grams’s old files and put them in storage when the remodel started on the Young building a couple of months ago.”

“That’s beside the point. Can’t you understand how crazy and foolish you’ve been acting lately?”

“Ah, so not only am I irrational, I’m crazy and foolish, too.”

Amanda let out a high keening cry. “And you wonder why we’re all worried sick about you? You can even tell—”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I appreciate your concern, but you don’t have to burden yourselves anymore. I’m fine.”

“Lucas.”

Her sympathetic tone grated on his nerves. Why the hell wouldn’t she just leave?

Amanda laid a gentle hand on his arm. “I understand you’re still grieving. I miss Grams, too. I think about her every day.”

He flinched.
Not going there.

She shook her head. “You can’t even accept the smallest measure of comfort or affection, can you?”

He yanked his arm away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m—”

“Fine. Yes, you already said as much, twice, but I beg to differ. You’re not okay. You haven’t been for years. You’ve built a fortress around you, and won’t let anyone in. Worse, you won’t let yourself get close to anyone. You’re afraid you’ll get hurt if you do.”

Afraid he’d get hurt.
Hah.
Lucas snorted. “Oh, so you’re some kind of shrink now?”

“No, but I’m not blind. Anyone who knows you can tell.”

He paused in mid-stride and turned to face her. “I’m done with this conversation. There’s nothing wrong with me. If you want someone to dissect, maybe you should psychoanalyze yourself.”

“I may have some issues, but at least I have loving relationships in my life. Can you say the same?”

She had no idea what she was talking about. Okay, maybe he wasn’t close to anyone in his family, and maybe he didn’t get involved in serious relationships with the opposite sex. So what? He was fine. As-is. No modifications necessary. He wasn’t afraid of anything. “Go spout your psychobabble to someone who gives a damn.”

Amanda grabbed her purse and stalked to the door. “You really are a bastard.”

He glowered at her backside. “Yeah. I am.”

She whirled around to face him. “You’re clueless.”

The door slammed shut and he was alone. Again.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

India grabbed her cup of coffee from the kitchen counter in her parents’ kitchen, and lifted it to her lips. She closed her eyes and inhaled the rich aroma, then swallowed a sip down. Boy oh boy, she needed the jolt of caffeine. Bad. After hours of tossing and turning, she’d given up on sleep and came down here to work.

While she wanted nothing more to do with Lucas on a personal level, no way in hell would she walk out on this job. He may not have intended to give it to her, but since he had she’d use it to her advantage. Expanding her interior design business into the commercial realm still mattered most, along with regaining her memory.

Sure, it certainly wasn’t an ideal situation, having your ex-lover as a boss downright sucked. But hey, she’d make it work.
Damned right.
Having Brett as their go-between would help. It meant she wouldn’t have to see Lucas. Or his sexy, wicked smile that made her go weak in the knees. And those gorgeous chocolate-brown eyes that shimmered with tiny flecks of gold when he wanted her. And…

Damn it.
She’d promised herself she wouldn’t lament over him anymore. Everything about their time together had been fake. An act he’d put on to get the information he’d wanted. Nothing else. Right?
Right
, and she didn’t want him anymore. She didn’t
.

Liar.
And wasn’t that the sad, pathetic truth?

Yes! Lord, she missed his gentle, loving touches, erotic kisses. The deep, rumbly sound of his laugh and… Oh hell, she missed him. The last thirty-six hours, twenty-five minutes and seven seconds without him had seemed like a lifetime.
Stop it, stop it, stop it.
Lying rat bastard. Remember?
If only.

India prowled back to the kitchen table and got down to work. Just a few additions and her sketches would be finished. Brett would arrive at noon, and she’d finally get to meet him. He’d collect her complete design package, including her proposed paint and tile samples and fabric swatches and take them back to Lucas. Once approved, she’d schedule the construction projects with Javier.

“Guess you can’t sleep either.”

She jumped. The table jolted. Steaming liquid sloshed and rimmed the coffee mug but didn’t spill on her layouts, thank goodness. “Sophia?”

Sophia walked to the sink. “Yes. Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I wanted some water.”

“It’s okay. What are you doing here?”

Sophia filled her glass and took a few sips. “Dante booked us on the first available flight out of Los Angeles after your father called yesterday afternoon and told him what you’d been through. He needed to see for himself that you were okay.”

A flood of warmth spread through her and she grinned. Why had she always seen him as overbearing and bossy? Like the rest of her family, he loved her. They’d all been nothing but supportive since she returned home.

Sophia glanced at the table, and then to India. “Have you got a few minutes? There are a few things I wanted to update you on with the wedding.”

India nodded, pushed back her chair and stood. “I’m sorry I never got back to you on the bridesmaids’ dresses.”

“No worries. You’ve had a lot going on over the last couple of weeks from what Dante told me. Come on, let’s go sit in the living room where we can be comfortable.”

“Sounds good.”

India ambled down the hall with her mug into the open expanse of the living room. She dropped down on the sofa. Curling her feet up under her bottom, she gazed out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the lush rolling hills and plains of the Sonoma Valley. A gentle breeze blew in through the open French doors. She leaned back against the cushion, took another taste of the strong brew and relaxed. This time of the morning had always been her favorite. She liked to sip her coffee out on the deck, or take a long leisurely walk through the vineyard and watch as the first hints of a new day settled over the rugged Mayacamas mountain range while the sun painted vivid streaks of yellow and orange across the blue sky.

She’d have to settle for the inside view today and maybe for the foreseeable future. Detective Harte recommended she lay low after their meeting yesterday, when she’d recounted the events of the past few days.

Sophia settled into a chair opposite her.

“What’s going on?” India grabbed the remote and lowered the volume on the television playing in the background.

“We told the rest of the family last night. But you’d already gone to bed, and we didn’t want to disturb you.”

India frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“No. Not in the least. Dante and I got married by a justice of the peace a couple of days ago.”

“Married? Already?”

Sophia nodded.

“But why? I thought you wanted a big wedding?”

Sophia smiled. “We’re still planning a large event for next year, but we’ll renew our vows instead of taking them.”

“Why did you elope, then?” It didn’t make any sense since they were having the ceremony and reception as planned.

“I’m pregnant.”

“A baby. Oh my goodness. How wonderful.”

Sophia flashed a radiant grin that reached all the way to her sparkling emerald eyes. “Dante and I have never been happier.”

Never been happier.
A crippling weight settled in her chest, squeezing, crushing everything inside her. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“Are you okay, India?”

India let out a strangled sob. Tears poured down her face.

Sophia enveloped her in a warm, comforting hug. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“W-why did Lucas turn out to be such a rat bastard?”

“Lucas Morgan? Oh sweetie. I’m so sorry.”

India sobbed harder.

“I should have hit him when I had the chance,” Dante growled.

She hadn’t heard her older brother enter the room. India pulled away from Sophia’s embrace and scrubbed her hands over her eyes. “No! I don’t want you to hurt him.”

“Why not? I owe him, remember, and he damn well deserves it after everything he’s put you through.”

“What happened in Miami and here in San Francisco wasn’t Lucas’s fault. He took care of me when I got injured and kept me safe after someone tried to kidnap me.”

“Lucas doesn’t sound like such a bad guy to me.” Sophia’s quiet voice thundered in the resounding silence.

He wasn’t a bad guy, except for the deliberate cover-up. Why didn’t he tell her he was Evelyn’s grandson from the start? He never explained why.
You never gave him the opportunity.

“Dante, can you give India and me a few more minutes?”

Dante nodded to Sophia and put the remote control down on the coffee table. “Sure. I can watch the news in our room.”

“No need.” She didn’t want to talk about Lucas Morgan anymore. What was the point? “I’m going to get another cup of coffee anyway.” India stood. She caught sight of a woman out of the corner of her eye and frowned. She turned her head as a picture flashed on the television screen, then disappeared when the channel changed. Something about the woman seemed oddly familiar. “Can you put it back to the last station for a minute, please?”

“Okay.”

The image reappeared. “Turn it up.”

The volume increased. “…missing woman was found strangled to death this morning in Golden Gate Park,” a journalist reported.

“Oh my God.” India dropped to the sofa and stared at the screen.

“The young woman was reported missing more than two weeks ago and—”

She didn’t hear the rest. Images flickered through her mind like her grandfather’s eight-millimeter home-movie clips.

India followed the raven-haired beauty from the coffee shop right around the corner from the Young Building to Victor’s apartment. Victor greeted the woman at the door, placing his lips on hers, devouring her.

The blood roared in India’s ears, and she started to shake. Her hands clenched into tight fists. The son of a bitch would pay for lying to her. What an idiot she’d been to believe him.

Victor pulled the woman inside. The door slammed shut.

India stomped out. She’d almost returned to the Young building when the rage and fury bubbling inside her boiled over.

She stormed back to Victor’s place and stepped up to the entry.

A woman cried out. “No, no, please. Don’t.”

A low, terse, muffled murmur. Victor, maybe? India couldn’t tell. Her stomach plummeted.

A loud crash had her pounding on the front door. “Victor? Is everything okay?”

Silence greeted her. She waited, and the door opened. Victor smiled. “India. What a surprise. It’s good to see you. Won’t you come in?”

Dante shook her arm. “India. India.”

Vision blurred, she peered up at him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You’re white as a ghost.”

“I know that woman.”

“Who is she?” Sophia gripped India’s hand and squeezed.

“She’s the woman Victor cheated on me with, and I think I may have heard him kill her.”