Stolen: A Novel of Romantic Suspense by Shiloh Walker

Author:Shiloh Walker
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Suspense, Contemporary, Fiction
ISBN: 0345531906
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2012-10-30T04:00:00+00:00

MyDiary.net/slayingmydragons

It was different this time. I remembered more. There was giggling. I’ve remembered bits and pieces of that before, but it was more vivid.

She was laughing, laughing and happy and singing. The cops, asking about my mother.

And I remembered her name.

My mother’s name was Jeanette. And I think she loved me. She smelled like flowers and grass and my stepfather said the baby took her away from us.

But my mother loved me.

I remember that … my mother loved me.

“She didn’t love you,” Darcy muttered, staring at the diary entry. “Nobody fucking loved you. Ever. Except me. I’m the only one who loves you.”

But Shay didn’t seem to get that.

Shay didn’t realize that Darcy was the one who cared, the one who would take care of her, always.

The one who would never, ever go away or disappear, no matter how ugly Shay’s secrets were, no matter how bad her scars.

Everybody else ran away, or left, or died. Sooner or later.

But Darcy would always be there.

“She didn’t love you,” Darcy whispered, touching the screen. “But I do.”

Her mother had loved her.

It was a bittersweet thing to carry in her heart that day, but somehow, it managed to steady her. In the back of her mind, she had odd flashes of memory. Almost memories, more than anything else. The scent of vanilla … something richer, sweeter. Cookies …? A laugh, husky and soft. Come on, princess, that’s enough …

Off in the dark, quiet house, the phone rang and the memory shattered, falling apart like gossamer threads.

“Damn it.” But even as she grumbled, she felt her heart kick up a little bit. Elliot … he’d said he’d call.

A smile was already forming as she went to answer. It stopped ringing before she made it to the phone, but a quick look at the caller ID was enough to dash that rising hope in her heart.

Not Elliot. Darcy. Again.

And she’d called several times. Twice while she’d been sleeping, and then once while she had been writing in her diary; Shay hadn’t even noticed.

The low, angry hiss of Darcy’s voice came back to her, echoing through Shay’s memory … Michelline …

“How do you know about me, Darcy?” she asked, staring at the phone. She wasn’t going to pick up. She didn’t care just then how many times the woman called. “Just who are you?”

It was, she realized, a question for which she really, really needed to have an answer.

Too bad no easy answer existed.

The data search she’d run on Darcy was several years old. She’d stayed off the general search engines, going instead to a public records base—she didn’t want to spend time combing through a thousand Did you go to school with Darcy Montgomery links—but the info she’d come up with was sketchy at best. The latest address wasn’t even listed. It looked like a bust, but Shay knew that address was legit, damn it. She’d been sending books there for two years, and she knew the books were sent out to contest winners and received.

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