Everywhen: (Savage Princess book 1) Page 10

“What’s another memory?” Nick asks, his intense gaze boring into mine.

  I stare at the sand, shuffling through the past in my head. The memories of Dean hurt the worst even if there are only a few. I remember loving him so much and then he wasn’t there anymore. “I remember Dean reading me my favorite book. I think we were the same age, but he learned to read before me, or maybe he had the book memorized. I had to help him turn the pages because they kept sticking—”

  “Goodnight Moon,” Aiden whispers.

  Swallowing a lump in my throat, I look up at him and nod. “I loved that book. I remember the paper moon hanging next to my bed.” I glance at Nick and suddenly those dark eyes are almost familiar. If I were to take away his strong jawline and add chubby cheeks, it could be him. He could be the other boy I have hazy memories of.

  “Holy shit,” Casey breathes. “I don’t think you need any more tests.”

  “That’s not enough to prove anything,” I say.

  “What’s going on?” Tilly asks, suddenly appearing next to me.

  Rocco jogs up, slipping into the circle we’ve all seemed to form. I back away, feeling like I’m being weighed down.

  “You okay?” Casey asks, stepping forward.

  My gaze darts to Aiden and then to Tilly. “I need a minute.”

  I speed walk to the house with my heart hammering against my chest and my throat dry and scratchy. I thought Dean was a boy from a foster home. I remember his mom floating around the kitchen in her long dress while Dean and I watched her make a cake. I can’t picture her face, but I remember how I felt—I loved her. It broke me when they were no longer around, just like other families I bonded to.

  If the people I’m told were my biological parents aren’t, and I’m Anna, they could be the people who kidnapped her—me. I remember the evil woman’s pointy witch nose and her blood-red nails that dug into my skin when she yelled at me.

  I make it to my room and flop down on the bed, hugging my pillow to my chest, I let a couple of tears slip-free. Rarely do I feel this emotion—sadness. Usually, I rage. Right now, I feel lost and vulnerable. I don’t like unpredictability and that’s my life right now.

  In the back of my mind, the lab was going to call and say they made a mistake. Tilly and I would be back at Nana’s in time for her to start her sophomore year of high school. If I am Anna, these people won’t want to let me go. I’ve never been the selfless type. I will ultimately do what’s best for me and staying with the Westlings isn’t it.

  My mind starts to drift to the what-ifs, and that’s dangerous territory. I don’t want to spiral.

  I dry up the tears, but my brain is threatening to drive me insane, so I grab my phone and head to the bathroom. Turning the volume up all the way on my heavy metal playlist, I step into the hot spray. I drop my head, letting the powerful jet of water pound against my neck and shoulders. The music helps to block out my thoughts, and the hot water helps to ease the tension from my muscles. After a couple of minutes, I robotically wash my hair and body.

  Wrapped in a towel, I step out of the shower stall and head to the closet to dress, but I stop outside the bathroom door when I see Nick sitting on the edge of my bed.

  His gaze slowly drifts over my body then up to meet my eyes. “You should keep your door locked. Someone had a reason to take you before. They could try again.”

  I quirk a brow. “Oh, now you think I’m Anna?”

  He lifts a shoulder. “Don’t you? Only Anna could have those memories.”

  I study his face. “Maybe, but I still want to do a second test.” I bite my lip. “Aiden said there weren’t any leads in the case?”

  Nick tilts his head to the side in thought. “John said it had to be someone they knew because of how quick it happened. The house was guarded and secured. From the time the security system went down to when Nora called the police, only five minutes had passed. They had to know the layout of the estate and that Nora was the only adult home. Everyone they knew was questioned. John hired private investigators and threw money at everyone. Nora’s family hired people too. But from what I’ve been told, there were never any real suspects. Do you remember being taken?”

  I shake my head.

  “Do you remember me?” Nick whispers so low I’m not sure I hear him.

  Clutching my towel, I inch closer. “What?”

  Shaking his head, he gets to his feet. “Nothing.” He walks past me. “Keep your door locked.”

  I watch him leave the room. I do remember you, Nick, my mind whispers. He’s the one who made me the moon.

  Chapter 15

  The shrill alarm coming from my phone makes me want to throw it across the room. I almost hit snooze, but my shrink back home said a routine is essential for insomnia. I’m starting to wonder if maybe my internal clock isn’t up to par with the rest of society. I sleep great after four a.m. but not a minute before.

  I shoot a text to Tilly telling her I have a headache. That’s code for going to stay in bed all day. I arrange the pillows so I’m propped up and pull up the Netflix app on my phone. I haven’t had a chill day in forever.

  Episode after episode blur together. I’m completely zoned out. I love it. A knock at the door forces me to hit pause. I grab my shirt from the floor, slip it over my head, and run my fingers through my hair. I open the door a crack.

  “You okay?” Aiden asks, straining to better see me. “Tilly said you were sick.”

  “It’s a headache. I’ll be fine. Gonna chill in bed today.”

  “Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “K. Thanks.” I push the door closed and make my way back to bed. I’m taking the whole day off. I wish I could fast forward the next two months.

  ***

  My alarm goes off at nine like usual, but this time, I feel rested and less like smashing my phone to pieces. The Netflix binge and day in bed helped. I shuffle around my room getting ready and then head to Tilly’s room.

  I swing the door open and of course, it’s empty. Her ass likes to get up at the crack of dawn and have a full day before I get up at nine. I make my way toward the stairs, but the sound of crying stops me before I reach them. I peek into the upstairs living room and find Nick with Liv on his lap. They’re sitting on one of the many cream-colored sofas in the room. Liv’s head is resting on Nick’s shoulder, her arms tucked tight against her chest, and Nick is rubbing her back. His large frame has her looking like a toddler.

  A girl who looks to be a few years older than me is standing next to Nick. She spots me and blushes. Her shoulder-length hair falling into her face as she leans down to whisper something to Nick. Her plain gray dress, like the maids, reaches her knees and hides any figure she might have.

  Nick’s hand stills on Liv’s back as he notices me. I feel my cheeks heating up as we stare at each other. I better not be fucking blushing.

  “I’m sorry, Miss. Is her noise bothering you? I can take her to her room.”

  I give the girl in the old lady dress a funny look because what the fuck, and then I focus back on Nick, telling my stupid cheeks to cool it. “What’s wrong with Liv?”

  “Anna!” Liv says, pulling her head from Nick’s shoulder to look at him. “Maybe Mommy will wake up for her?” She brushes untamed hair from her tear-stained face and then shifts on Nick’s lap to see me better.

  “Why don’t you go with Sophia, and I’ll check on Mommy? Don’t you want to find some seashells?” Nick asks her.

  “No!” Liv whines, dragging out the word into a howl. Fresh tears spill from her eyes and trail over her round cheeks. “I want Mommy. She promised to make muffins with me today.”

  I frown, not understanding what’s going on, but her tears are squeezing my heart. Growing up in the system, I regularly witnessed kids crying with no one to comfort them. “You want to make muffins, Liv? Tilly is the best at making muffins. I bet we could talk her into helping us.”

  Peeking up at me, she wipes her nose, smearing green snot across her face.
<
br />   “We could add fruit to them. I love strawberry and blueberry muffins the best,” I say, trying not to grimace. That’s a lot of snot.

  Liv smiles. “I like blueberry muffins too.”

  “Do you want to help me find Tilly, so we can make some?”

  She nods her head and scoots off Nick’s lap.

  “Why don’t I help you clean your face and change out of your pajamas before you help,” Sophia says, reaching her hand out to Liv.

  She takes Sophia’s hand and looks over to me. “Wait for me, okay?”

  “I’ll wait here,” I say, and a toothy grin spreads across her face before she bounces away with who I’m assuming is the nanny.

  “What was that about?” I ask Nick.

  He runs a hand through his hair. “Nora’s doc adjusted her medication again. She’s been spending most days in bed, and Liv is missing her.”

  “So, is the adjusting of medicine and her not getting out of bed to take care of her child something that happens often?”

  Nick gets to his feet. “Don’t be so quick to judge her. She lost her daughter, and it broke her.”

  “Then why have another kid?”

  He sighs. “I think she was trying to fill the hole of losing Anna. Before John hired Sophia, Aiden, Casey, and I took care of Liv when John had to be with Colt on set. It’s been a fucking mess. We all thought Nora would get better if we found you.” He shrugs. “Maybe she’s too damaged.”

  I hate that her kids suffer because of her actions, but a part of me is pulling for her to overcome whatever she’s battling because I don’t like the term “damaged.” I was deemed damaged, but with love and therapy, I’m a functioning adult. I might still have some issues, but I haven’t been to prison. Isn’t that the key to passing enough for society’s standard?

  “I remember the moon you cut out for me,” I say. “At least I think it was you. I remember a boy with dark eyes, shaggy brown hair, and dirty fingernails. The few memories I have of him, he was playing in dirt with little metal cars.” I grimace, remembering how gross I thought he was at the time, always covered in dirt. “The boy lost my moon book. I remember being so angry, but then, he made me a moon cut out and helped me hang it next to my bed.” I don’t know why I blurted out the memory, but I don’t regret saying it. “Was that you?”

  Nick nods, his eyes wide. “Yeah, that was me.” He clears his throat. “I can’t believe you remember that. Fuck. I didn’t think we’d find you but Aiden… he was so persistent about the interviews. I have a lot of memories of you.”

  “You do?”

  “I was six when you were taken. I guess being older, I remember more.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I sorta ruined your moon book. Do you remember that?”

  “Ready?” Liv says, bouncing over to me wearing a pink sundress. Pulling at her pigtails, she eyes my hair. “I have long hair like you.” She takes my hand.

  I let her lead me to the door when I’d rather stay and talk to Nick. I want to hear his memories. I glance over my shoulder and see him watching me walk away. The usual scowl on his face is gone. He looks happy. And dammit if it doesn’t make him look even sexier.

  ***

  Two hours, a big fucking mess, and twenty-four muffins later, I’ve decided I never want to have kids. Liv is cute but I’m already exhausted. She hasn’t stopped talking or moving, and she almost died twice.

  “How’s it go—holy shit.” Casey steps up to the island, taking in the scene.

  Every space on the kitchen island is occupied with muffin trays, measuring cups, spoons, eggshells, and flour. Flour has managed to get over every surface in the kitchen, including us.

  “What the hell?” Casey lifts his hand, gooey egg white dripping from his palm. “Yuck.”

  “Language, Casey. You said shit and hell,” Liv says as she picks apart a muffin and shoves a piece into her mouth.

  Tilly laughs as she places batter-covered bowls into the dishwasher.

  I toss Casey a dishrag so he can wipe his hand, and then I drop to a bar stool. “FYI, I can’t ever be left alone with Liv. She almost died.”

  Casey laughs. “What?”

  “She almost died twice. Hayley tripped and almost pushed Liv into the open oven,” Tilly says, trying not to laugh. “And then she almost stabbed her with a knife.” This time she does laugh, and Casey joins her. “Hayley sucks in the kitchen.” Tilly turns to me. “That’s why Mom banned you. Remember the banana bread incident?”

  “Mommy didn’t ban her,” Liv says around a mouthful of food.

  Tilly frowns, and I don’t know if it’s because she misses Mom or she’s just now realizing we don’t have the same mom anymore, and our lives are forever changed. Or maybe I’m projecting. My shrink said I tend to project my feelings onto other people.

  “That’s right, Liv. Your mom didn’t say that,” I say, getting up and glaring at the mess. I swipe two rags from the drawer and toss one to Casey. “Why don’t you make yourself useful.”

  Kids, plus hours of cooking, are exhausting, but with the help of Casey, Tilly and I get the kitchen back to what it was before muffins. Casey takes Liv to find Sophia, and Tilly and I head upstairs to clean ourselves up. I change into hunter green lounge pants and a white shirt and then shuffle out the door.

  I push Tilly’s door open, but her room is empty and so is her balcony. She didn’t even tell me what she was going to do. I close her door behind me and catch Aiden and Nick in the hall by my door. “Hey, know where Tilly is?”

  “She and Rocco were headed to the beach. She’s determined to master the wakeboard,” Aiden says.

  I frown, not liking the idea of Tilly and Rocco alone together or how comfortable Tilly has become here in only a couple of days.

  Reading my face, Nick says, “He’s harmless. Rocco’s a good kid.”

  I raise a brow. “He’s a boy. A teenage boy.” I’m not only worried about Rocco, I’m worried about everything as a whole. Tilly is here having the time of her life. She assumes these people are permanent because they might be my blood, but she should know better than anyone blood doesn’t mean shit. Tilly’s biological mother was a horrible woman who hung onto her parental rights for longer than she should have been allowed. At least our mom got her right away. Tilly didn’t have to bounce around different homes making and breaking friendships.

  “Nick’s right, Rocco won’t hurt her. They’re just friends anyway.” Aiden clears his throat. “I wanted to show you something in my room.”

  “Okay,” I say, eyeing him. “Show me what?”

  He gestures for me to follow, and I do, with Nick following behind. Aiden’s room decor matches mine, but the size of his room is a lot bigger. A lounge area with a sofa and two chairs makes up a small living room when you first walk in. Inside a large archway, a huge bed is against the far wall near French doors. It doesn’t look like he’s added any personal touches to the room. Maybe rich people don’t do that with vacation homes.

  Aiden gestures for me to have a seat on the sofa. I drop down, and he moves over to a desk near the French doors. The desk is small, and the top is bare besides a small metal lamp and a laptop computer. I eye his room again. It doesn’t look lived in. The bed is made, nothing is on the floor, the dresser top is empty, and there’s nothing on the walls besides a few ugly paintings.

  “Scoot to the middle. It’ll make it easier.”

  I do what Aiden says and he and Nick drop down on either side of me. Aiden passes me a small photo album he pulled from the desk. The brown leather is worn, and the album is only an inch or so thick.

  “This is the only one here. There are more in California,” Aiden says.

  On the first page is a picture of a small girl and boy. They’re both smiling wide, rows of baby teeth on full display. The little girl is wearing a frilly red dress, white tights, and black shoes. The little boy has on a red shirt and black slacks. I run my finger over the girl’s eyes. They look like my eyes.

  I turn the page and see a
picture of two babies sitting on a white blanket in the grass. The boy is dressed in a frilly blue one-piece with a silver rattle in his hand, and the girl is in an equally frilly pink outfit. Her face is tilted up at the sky, the light shining on her face. Her eyes are closed, and her lips are pulled up into a soft smile.

  The next page is a picture of John. He has a small child in each arm. The little girl is pouting, and the boy looks mad. He looks an awful lot like the Dean in my hazy memories.

  “That was taken a few weeks before you were taken,” Aiden says. “We were almost four. You were taken a week before our birthday.”

  “When’s your birthday?” I ask, not looking up from the page.

  “March tenth. It must be weird finding out you’re not the age you thought you were.”

  I grunt in response because yep, weird as hell. I can’t take my eyes off the photo. There is no denying this girl and I looked similar as children. The earliest photo I’ve seen of myself was when I was almost six and my hair was short and blonde. Put short blonde hair on the girl in the picture in front of me and they could be twins. But don’t all children look similar? “I had blonde hair, not brown,” I say, feeling some kind of emotion about saying it out loud. I think I don’t want to disappoint Aiden.

  “I know. James said whoever took you dyed and cut it,” Aiden says with absolute certainty. “The investigators assumed that would happen, so it’s not a surprise.”

  I turn the page. The little girl, Aiden as a little boy, a lady I don’t recognize, and a little boy who can only be Nick, are standing in a driveway next to a garage door. Child Nick’s arms are crossed, and he wears a deep scowl much like he does in all the photos I’ve seen of him online. His dark eyes are angry as he glares at the little girl. The woman holds his hand, but he isn’t holding hers back.

  The little girl’s eyes are red, her face is wet with tears, and her mouth is wide open in what looks like a frustrated cry. Even though all the children look unhappy, the picture makes me smile. Candid photos are rare amongst the Westlings, and in all of their media pictures they are always looking their best. These children all have messy hair, disheveled clothes, and both Aiden and Nick are barefoot.