I Have Lived and I Have Loved - Willow Winters Page 0,229

do this without me?” I yell at his back, more a command than a question. I’ll figure out something to keep him from doing this. I have to.

He turns to look over his shoulder, his face all raw pain and agony. He nods his head once. “I have to do this, but you need to be there. For me and her, John.” His eyes dart to the floor, then back to me. “I’m going tomorrow night,” he says and then turns back to leave, taking another step.

“I’ll go with you,” I tell him quickly. He only nods his head and keeps walking. I know he heard me, and I know where to find him when I finally get a grip on what the fuck is going on. I only have a few hours to figure something out. But I will.

It’s only when I hear the faint click of the front door to the shop that I look down at the photo. I run my fingers down the creases to flatten it as best I can and take in the sight of a beautiful woman.

Her pale skin is complemented by the dark locks of her hair. I’m not sure where she is in the photo; it could be anywhere. The background is merely a brick wall as she looks off into the distance.

I don’t know who she is, but she seems so familiar. The way she smiles, the look in her eyes, they strike something in me. A memory I don’t have access to.

Jay’s told me what happened when he was younger. The descriptions were so vivid I felt as if I was there. I run the tips of my fingers over her face, wondering if she’s really the girl he talked about all those years ago.

I glance up at the empty doorway reluctant to believe Jay and to trust he’s not going to hurt her. I can’t help him do this, but I need to be there for her. I need to protect her. That one thought rings through my blood. I need to be there to help her. I need to get her away from Jay.

Chapter 3

Robin

Twenty years ago

My head hurts so bad. Why does it hurt so much? I try to push myself upright, and the ground is so cold and hard. It’s so uncomfortable, but my head is too heavy and I slump against the ground.

Where am I?

I try to remember where I was. The sound of the carousel shrieking as it slowly turned from the blowing wind filters through my memory. The empty swings sway back and forth. The school playground is deserted. I thought everyone would be here today. But it’s empty. The first day of summer and not a soul is here.

I remember how I looked up and the sun was far off in the distance, but still in the sky. Didn’t they know we still had time to play? I’m younger than most of the kids, only twelve, but even the older ones usually play with me.

I sat on the swings for a while. I remember that. As the pounding in my head throbs harder I remember how the metal chains twisted and I let myself twirl on the swings over and over. I could wait for the other kids. I was sure they’d show up.

Did they?

I squint, trying to remember and I turn my head. My palms brush against the concrete floor, my cheek flat against the hard floor.

There was a man. He had a golf club and he needed my help. I remember how lost he looked. He said he hit his last ball into the trees and he couldn’t reach into the bushes.

My heartbeat quickens as I remember, and my body goes still.

I knew to tell him a lie. I knew to turn around and run when he tried to take my hand in his. But he looked so hurt when I tried to pull away. He was genuinely upset, and all he did was ask me to help him.

The thin branches cracked under my sneakers as I went into the woods, following him to where he thought the ball had landed.

I open my eyes and I can’t breathe.

He lied to me. My nails scratch on the ground as I clench them into fists and slowly look up.

No! Mommy, help me! Tears blur my vision of the cinder block walls.

No! This can’t be happening. I pull my knees into my chest and try to stand.

Why does my head hurt so