Wild Justice (Nadia Stafford 3)

Jack went back to his forearms-on-knees pose, gazing into the forest. Then he straightened, legs stretching as he raked his hair back. He almost did it with the hand holding the cigarette, and I heard his muttered curse. He sighed, shifted again, and picked up something lying beside him.

The book. Aldrich's journal.

CHAPTER 15

He didn't open the journal. He just drummed his fingers on the cover, then resumed his position, leaning forward, smoking. I started to retreat, but he must have caught the flicker of movement.

He squinted over, cigarette lowering. "Nadia?"

"Sorry," I called, staying where I was. "I smelled the smoke. I'll leave you--"

"Come here."

As I approached, he scooped up the book and whisked it to his other side. Then he stubbed out the cigarette and motioned to the spot beside him.

"A little not-so-light reading?" I said.

"Yeah."

We sat there in silence. He was the one who finally broke it.

"Yesterday," he began. "Talked about you seeing Aldrich. Worried it'd bring shit back. You said whatever it was, you'd want to remember. Confront it. Face it." He glanced over. "That still hold?"

"Of course."

His gaze locked onto mine. "I mean it, Nadia. Don't answer lightly. Is there a limit?"

"A limit?"

"Stuff you wouldn't want to remember?"

"Um, that is a little hard to answer when I have no idea what we're talking about."

He sighed. "Yeah." He paused. "What if I'm not sure?"

"About what?"

"Whether you should remember. If you've forgotten? There's a reason. A damn good reason. I don't want to fuck with that." He met my gaze again. "I really don't."

"Okay," I said slowly. "So you've found something in that book that I seem to have forgotten. If I forgot it, you figure maybe I'm blocking it, because I couldn't handle it the first time around. But now I know there's something in there, and I'm going to imagine the worst."

"What's the worst?"

I hesitated and shook my head. "How can I even answer that, Jack?"

"Try."

"I guess . . . I don't know. The worst? Maybe that I killed Amy. That Aldrich's cigarettes weren't just weed, and I didn't refuse, like I remember. I took it and I went crazy and I murdered Amy."

He peered at me. "Do you ever even think that?"

"No, because even at my most messed up, I know that's not possible. But you asked for the worst. If it was something as horrible as that, I'd still want to know. Whatever it is, I must know it, deep down, and it's going to keep gnawing at me until I figure it out."

Jack dipped his chin in a nod. "It is there. Not going away. Giving you nightmares."

I took a deep breath. "It's about Amy, isn't it? He describes what he did to her, and there are parts I've forgotten. Or maybe something I failed to do. Something I let happen. Worse than running away."

"Amy's not in here."