The Secret He Keeps by Julieann Dove

Author:Julieann Dove [Dove, Julieann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-12-07T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Remembering and Not Remembering

It was dark when she came to. She thought about where she was. Her eyes strained to make out something in the pitch black of the room. Yes, now she knew. It was the boat. She’d gone to the boat. She remembered Mr. Martin and the chrome polishing. She probably fell asleep or something. Just how much did she drink from that bottle? But wait, this wasn’t the boat. Her hands felt around her. It was a comforter. Her eyes searched again. Darting left to right. It was making her head ache fiercely.

Then she heard the clanking. Glass hitting on glass. But the noise came from far away. When her eyes had time to adjust, she recognized she was in her bedroom. A tiny lip of light shone from the bottom crack of her door. The shadow of her television, her high chest of drawers, her ceiling fan. How in the world did she get there? What was going on?

She felt for the wall to go to the bathroom. Her stomach was sick. She made it to the toilet in time to spew out Jack all over it. He was good going down, but hell coming back up. She wiped her mouth on the towel from the vanity. It smelled disgusting. Her head pounded. She needed Advil, and lots of bottles of them. She stood and took her coat off. The lights were too bright, making her squint and making her head hurt more. She rested her head on the cold vanity and pulled herself together before going out and finding who was in her house.

She turned the corner to her kitchen and saw Dane behind the counter. He had lined up all her liquor bottles by the sink. It was quite a collection. Half the time when she went to the liquor store, she didn’t know what she had at home. So she bought duplicates. Which was okay. She never knew when she would be in a pinch. They usually only came out of the cabinet when it was late at night and all the memories began chasing her down. Or sometimes in the day, when she’d find one of Scott’s shirts in the laundry, forgetting she was the one who wore them.

“Umm, what are you doing?” she asked him pointedly. She shielded her eyes from the fluorescent overhead lights.

“Well, look who’s up. It’s Sleeping Beauty.” He twisted his head in a holier-than-thou kind of way.

“Yeah, how did I get here? And what are you doing in my kitchen? Put those back under the cabinet where you found them.” This was exactly why she didn’t invite him in last night. She held onto her head. It was splitting open.

“Rachel, have you lost your damn mind? Look at this.” He pointed to the display of bottles. “Look at this!” His voice grew to a shout.

“I see it! Now put it back.” She went around the counter and opened the fridge. She could deal with him better when she had better wits about her and that was going to come from heavy medication.

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