Beautifully Damaged (33 page)

I was on the phone in the kitchen placing our order for lunch with the local Chinese place while Chelsea was in the living room cuing up
Twilight
: she was a major team-Edward fan. I entered the living room carrying two glasses of iced tea and noticed that Chelsea was looking at the pictures on the wall. I smiled because Trace's walls were no longer empty, granted most of the pictures were of me, but Rafe and Chelsea were also on the wall as were pictures of my family. I walked over and handed her a glass as she pointed to a picture of my mom.

"Is that Amanda?"

To say I was speechless wouldn't be an exaggeration as I pulled my eyes from the picture to Chelsea.

"Yes, how did you know that?"

"I've seen her before."

"When?"

Chelsea, oblivious to the fact that her words were twisting me into knots, walked over to the sofa and took a seat before she looked up at me with guileless gray eyes.

"She came to the house once when I was younger."

"Your house in Ohio?"

"Yeah. I remembered her because she was the prettiest lady I'd ever seen."

I had to sit because I had a feeling my legs weren't going to hold me up much longer. "Do you remember when this was?"

"Yeah, I had just turned six. I remember because I was playing with my new Strawberry shortcake dolls: Lime Chiffon, Orange Blossom and Raspberry Tart."

I felt my heart beating painfully in my chest when I asked, "You were born in August of 1985, right?"

"Yeah."

Oh my god, August of 1991 was when my mom was killed. I needed to call my dad.

"Excuse me, Chelsea, for one minute."

I hurried down the hall to the phone in the bedroom and dialed my dad.

"Ember, how are you honey?"

"Dad, I've got Chelsea over and she saw a picture of mom and recognized her, not just recognized her but knew her name."

This was met with silence.

"Dad, she said mom visited her house in Ohio in August of 1991."

The exhale that came across the line held both shock and pain and then my dad's soft voice came over the line.

"What did she say?"

"Not much but how's that possible?"

"I really don't know. I'll call your uncle."

"Let me know, Dad."

"I will."

Later, I waited in the living room for Trace to return from dropping Chelsea off at home. I'd been thinking about what Chelsea said as I tried to come up with some explanation to make sense of it but the only point that I kept circling back on was if my mom had been in Trace's home before she died, and she was killed by Trace's dad, then was her death an accident or intentional? I heard the key in the lock seconds before the door pushed open and Trace walked in. He looked over at me and smiled which immediately faded into a look of concern.

"Ember, what's wrong?"

I was holding my mom's picture as I walked over to him.

"Chelsea saw this today and asked me if this was Amanda."

Trace's expression was the same one I had. "How did she know that?"

I reached for his hand before I replied, "Trace, apparently my mom was in your house."

"What?!"

"Exactly. My dad and uncle are looking into it."

He squeezed my hand. "You understand what this means?"

"That her death may not have been an accident."

There was pain burning in his eyes but there was something else, too, something that looked a lot like panic before he replied so very softly, "Yes."

I pulled him into the room and placed the picture on the table before I pushed him down onto the sofa and straddled his lap.

"What's the look for?"

His hands rested on my hips but he wouldn't look at me. I touched his chin to lift his eyes to me.

"I love you, Trace, regardless of what your father may or may not have done to my mom. The son will not be made to pay for the sins of the father. I thought you knew that already but I'm saying it again. You were a boy of nine when she died. You are not responsible and no one would hold you responsible."

He pulled me to him, wrapping me firmly in his arms, as he buried his face in my hair. "I really hated that bastard but what I feel for him now knowing that it's possible that he hurt your mom on purpose, there aren't words."

I pulled back and framed his face in my hands as I looked into his troubled eyes.

"He doesn't deserve your anger, Trace, he isn't worth it. Holding it and feeling it is only hurting you because he's beyond it now. Maybe he's here..." I reached for his arm and pointed to the bodies in the pit"...but wherever he is, thinking about him only makes him significant and he isn't."

He reached up to brush my hair from my face as his fingers lingered on my cheek.

"You are very wise, Ember."

"Much like Yoda. Think like he, yes, I do."

The grin that cracked over his face was almost boyish.

"Do you know that I've never seen those movies."

I paled, I knew I did, as my jaw just hung in utter shock.

"Come again."

"
Star Wars
, I haven't seen the originals or the newer movies but I know you really love them."

I shook my head in an attempt to get my brain working again before I managed, "The originals I like, the newer ones not so much. That's really not acceptable, Trace, in fact we must remedy this immediately."

I climbed from his lap and started down the hall.

"Where are you going?"

I looked back at him from over my shoulder. "I'm going to order the Blu-rays and when they arrive we're spending the day watching all three in a row with no interruptions."

"Yes, ma'am."

I was sound asleep and dreaming of cake-pops, a forest of cake-pops, when I heard what sounded like an animal being tortured. At first, I thought that the noise was coming from my dream but what in my dream would make such a tormented cry? Another wail of pain and I woke, my eyes opening but seeing only darkness. When the cry came again my blood turned to ice in my veins because it was coming from Trace who was beginning to thrash around in his sleep. I reached for the bedside light and when the soft-glow filled the room I hoped it would wake him but whatever was haunting his dreams had a firm hold on him. His beautiful face was twisted in agony and his strong, hard body was flexing in pain. It was heartbreaking to see him in such a state but I realized I was furious as well. If his parents weren't already dead, I'd sure as hell like to have a go at them, the fuckers. I didn't know what to do for him so I moved to wrap myself around him as I whispered in his ear.

"Trace, it's Ember. Wake up, baby, you're safe. I've got you; my arms and legs are wrapped around you. You're safe, Trace, please wake up."

I kept up the soft words for almost five minutes and slowly he started to calm down. I knew the moment he woke because I felt him tense a moment before his arms wrapped around me. He turned his head into my neck just as I ran my hand down his cheek and felt a dampness there which made my heart twist in pain.

"Are you okay?"

His lips brushed over my neck. "I am, now."

I lifted my head so I could see his face and noticed the shadow of his nightmare still darkening his eyes. His thumb touched my cheek to gently wipe a tear away but it was the look on his face that had my heart squeezing hard in my chest.

"You cried for me?"

"Your pain is my pain."

His hand snaked around my neck to pull my mouth to his for a kiss of such raw emotion that my heart literally skipped a couple of beats. He rolled so that we were lying side by side. His mouth pulled from mine as his arms wrapped around me to hold me close and together we drifted back into sleep.

In the morning I woke to find that I was still wrapped in Trace's arms. I thought he was still asleep so I attempted to move without waking him because I needed to use the bathroom.

"Good Morning."

I turned to find him watching me and based on the look of him, he'd been doing it for some time.

"Good Morning."

He brushed the hair from my cheek as his eyes held my gaze. "Thank you for last night."

I could tell he really didn't want to talk about it so instead of asking the questions that were on the tip of my tongue, I replied, "I'm glad that I was here."

Later that day Trace was working in his office as I worked in the kitchen making lunch when the doorbell rang. Trace poked his head into the kitchen on his way to the door.

"I've got it."

I recognized the voices immediately which had me joining the others in the living room.

"Dad, Uncle Josh."

My dad walked to me and pulled me into a hug. "Hello, Emmie, how are you?"

"I'm good, Dad. Did you find something out?"

"We're still looking into it but Josh had some questions for Trace." I looked to where Uncle Josh and Trace were looking over photos as my dad took my hand and led me over to them. I wasn't really listening since I was too busy looking at the crime scene photos from that night thirteen years ago. The entire house had been photographed and it was while I was looking at the photos that I made a discovery.

"Trace?"

He looked over at me as a slight smile touched his lips.

"Yes, Ember."

"That mirror, you have one very similar to it at Clover."

His eyes moved to the photo as he studied the mirror before he offered, "Actually, that is the same mirror. It was one of the only possessions of my mother's that I kept since I found it too beautiful to destroy."

"Is there another like it?"

He looked up at me before he replied, "No, it's a one-of-a-kind piece. Why?"

"That night at Clover, with the Michaels, Vivian said she recognized the mirror but she also claimed to never have been in your parent's house."

"Trace, before the restaurant, the mirror was only ever in your home in Ohio as far as you know?" Uncle Josh asked.

"Yes."

"You said it was your mom's possession so it came from her side of the family. Is it possible that Charles knew of it?"

"Yes."

"So it's possible that Vivian saw the mirror when it was still in her husband's family's possession or she lied and had been to your house. It can't hurt to look deeper into her background."

Uncle Josh moved to join me as my dad walked over to talk with Trace.

"I've been asking around at the hospital where your mother worked and some of the nurses remember that right before she died she was agitated about something. They aren't really certain of the details but they believe she was attempting to cut through some red tape. There is a record of Douglas Stanwyck being treated at Penn Medical Center but he was treated in the ER and Mandy worked in obstetrics so there isn't a link there. One name came up frequently among those I spoke to, a one Darlene Moore, who worked with Mandy in obstetrics but so far I've been unable to locate her. She could probably shed a bit more light on what Mandy was up to. I'll keep looking."

"Can you do me another favor?"

"Sure thing, Ember."

"Could you look into a Mrs. Fletcher who worked for Trace's family?"

"Sure, why?"

"Closure."

Uncle Josh and I were pulled from our conversation when I heard my dad ask, "Trace, could we go for a cup of coffee?"

"Yeah, Shawn, that would be great." He looked back at my uncle and held out his hand.

"Thank you for looking into this."

"Absolutely. I want to know the answers as much as you."

Trace nodded before he walked over and pressed a kiss on my forehead.

"I'll see you later, Ember."

"Okay, have fun."

Uncle Josh walked back over to stand next to me as we watched my dad and Trace leave the apartment.

"What is that all about?" I asked.

Uncle Josh was grinning like a fool when I looked over at him. "I've no idea."

I grinned as I thought, "liar."

A few days later I was back at the salon and Pablo was trying, in vain, to get me to highlight my hair but I didn't want to have to sit for that long. He finished trimming my dead ends as he talked about his weekend, his boyfriend, his mother remarrying and then he asked me, quite out of the blue, "So, did you and your boyfriend ever have dinner with the Michaels?"

"You remember that?"

He met my eyes in the mirror with a look of indignation. "I'm offended."

"Sorry. Yes, we did."

"And what was that like?"

I didn't really want to talk about it but I knew if I avoided the subject altogether it would only peak his interest and so I answered simply, "It was okay. We don't really have that much in common with them so it was a bit uncomfortable."

"Um, I bet. What's that Charles like? Is he as unapproachable as he seems?"

"That's an interesting way of putting it but, yeah, he kind of is."

Pablo seemed to think on that for a moment and then I saw the grin that was filled with mischief.

"So you and Trace Montgomery, and from what I hear you guys are the real deal."

"From what you hear?"

"Oh, please, darling, you must know that you and Trace are like the number one topic of gossip among some circles. At first, people were placing bets on how long it would last but now it seems everyone realizes that you are both in it for the long haul. There are a lot of broken hearts in the city these days."

I was shocked by Pablo's words because why would anyone care and then I realized that, had it not been me that Trace loved, I would be broken-hearted, too, learning that he was permanently off the market.

"Well, I'm sorry if my happiness makes others unhappy but, yes, I love him: truly, completely and hopelessly."

"You lucky lady."

"I am, Pablo, I really am."

"I guess I'm surprised that Trace is related to the Michaels' considering how calculating they both are."

"What do you mean by Vivian being calculating?"

"When she first arrived in New York she used to come to this salon since..." he leaned over and whispered "...she needed to touch-up her dye job; she isn't really a blonde." He straighted and resumed my haircut. "Anyway, I was just starting out and she was one of those customers who liked to hear herself talk. She used to go on about this oh-so fine guy that was her sugar daddy. I assumed, once she and Charles got together, that he was the man she was referring to but I never did understand that since I don't think Charles is all that."