Disappear, Love by E. HughesPaperback ISBN: 978-0-9852015-7-9
eBook ISBN: 9780985201586
Genre: Science-Fiction, Suspense, Thriller
Availability: Paperback or eBook
About the Book
In Disappear, Love, intimacy and passion drives this story of mystery, intrigue and romance. Victoria Taisha Lawford loses the love of her life, only to have him return six years later under mysterious circumstances when he becomes the focus of a police investigation she’s involved in.
Just when he thought his life couldn’t get any better, O finds himself on the run, unwittingly repaying his family’s debt to a shadowy Japanese mafia outfit by leaving behind the only girl he has ever loved. He returns six years later, working as a chef at his family’s restaurant when a series of crimes brings them together again, and not only must he answer for his mysterious absence, but whether he ever really loved her at all. O will do everything in his power to keep Victoria safe, even if it means keeping her in the dark.
Sneaky Reads excerpt – Disappear, Love by E. Hughes
Chapter One
“Why on earth would you cut your hair? You are a hot mess! Sometimes I don’t know what to do with you…”I looked at mother and rolled my eyes. She was at it again… complaining about the way I looked. When I was little I used to wear a Brewers baseball cap to ballet class… Mother would squint her eyes, pout her lips disapprovingly, and tell me to pull my pink tutu over my flat butt… “Can’t catch a bee without a stinger,” she’d say in that sugar coated voice of hers.
Mother was a perfectionist, which is probably why I’m so messed up.
She stood in my bedroom, hands parked on her slender hips as she examined the condition of my room. She wore her perfectly coiffed dark hair swept into the neatest bun I’d ever seen. She was the perfect housewife… like Mrs. Cleaver, or better, Claire Huxtable but without the legal pedigree.
“Victoria… Are you listening to me?”
“It’s not your hair so why are you worried about it?”
Mother sighed. “You look like a boy.”
“Good! Maybe people will shut up about me finding a boyfriend and leave me alone for once.”
“What kind of man is going to want a skinny, knock-kneed, bald headed girl? You need to marry a nice Dominican boy and start acting like a grown up. Your father and I can’t pay your bills forever.”
“If you want me to move I’ll move.”
Mom swung her petite body around my bed, dumped the pillows from out of my pillow cases and tossed them into her laundry basket.
“You don’t make enough money.”
“I’ll move in with Dana,” I taunted.
“With Dana?” mother asked, turning her head to the side to look directly at me. “I’m starting to wonder about the two of you.”
…and I was starting to worry about her. Mama had the nerve to complain about me living at home but hated the idea of me moving out.
“Wonder what?” I snapped.
I slipped my feet into a pair of tennis shoes and rolled the bottom of my skinny jeans.
“About you and Dana hanging around so much. The only person you want to be with is her. Why don’t you find a nice young man and settle down.”
“You sound like a broken record.”
Mama rolled her eyes as she collected the dirty t-shirts and socks littering the floor.
“Is that all you think about?”
“Somebody has to! It’s been a year and a half since the accident, Victoria. It’s time to move on.”
Mother looked up at me, sadness in her eyes. “I worry about you…that’s all.”
“I’m twenty-four years old. I can take care of myself, OK?”
“I gave birth to you, honey. I know how old you are!”
I felt like a teenager. Unlike the trendy hipster I used to be before the accident and the year of grueling physical therapy that forever changed my life.
“Ugh. Don’t remind me,” I groaned.
Mama dropped the dirty linen into a laundry basket and frowned as she picked it up and propped it on her hip.
“Victoria Taisha Lawford? You never answered my question.”
“We’re not lovers! It’s just a stupid haircut. A pixie cut. In fact, it’s not short enough to qualify as a ‘pixie’, I can still put it in a pony tail. Women wear haircuts like mine all the time.”
“I spent fifteen years of my life growing your hair out and you go and chop it all off in one swoop! You’re so ungrateful.”
“Dana said it was cute.”
“Who cares what Dana thinks? And what kind of girl runs off and joins the police force anyway? She acts like a boy, too. ”
“Normal girls. Like Dana. Gawd you’re so old school. Newsflash mom, women are a formidable part of the workforce. She joined the police department four years ago. She’s a detective now.”
Mom rolled her eyes.
“I don’t know how you stand her. Her mouth is too big for me.”
I grabbed my army jacket and draped an over sized messenger bag containing my laptop over my shoulders.
“That’s why she’s my friend and not yours. I’m taking my bike. I’ll be back tonight.”
Meeting Dana was just the excuse I needed to get out of the house. I would have walked downtown to get away from my mother’s irksome old fashioned ways.
“At this hour? And for goodness sake! Can you please keep your room clean? Last time I checked the word ‘maid’ wasn’t stamped on my forehead. This look like the Hilton to you?”
“Whatever. Dana’s waiting for me. That greasy little diner on 3rd street burned down. The cops think it was another arson job. Say what you want about Dana but at least she’s helping me. I’m going downtown to freelance another article for the Journal.”
“Well, good luck with that.”
Mama shrugged like she was bored and walked out.
I didn’t expect her to take an interest in my career anyway. The only thing mother ever cared about was finding a man and keeping him. Never worked a day in her life and refused education beyond high school. Despite this, she was well read. She had to be to hook the kind of man she wanted. By the time she met my father she had already gone through a string of wealthy men. My parents married when she was in her thirties. She had me at forty-three.
The only man mother ever truly loved was my father. He wasn’t rich, like the others. He was a struggling real estate agent when they first met. Somehow, he managed to win her heart and they’ve been happily married ever since. It was the one good thing she’d ever done.
A crackle of thunder made my bedroom window rattle as a burst of rain poured down in sheets. I left the house a few minutes later, hopped on my bike, and pedaled like a maniac all the way downtown. We lived a few beats outside of the city where highway met country road. Our house was the two story four bedroom, country home with the wraparound porch out in the middle of nowhere. It was a half-mile away from the water tower, yards away from the blue windmill in a big grassy field not far from the ancient willow tree overlooking a pond with baby ducks waddling in it. I pedaled as fast as I could down the gravel path from our house until I hit the bike trail leading to Madison Heights, just off road.
I was nervous as I rode my bike out there alone in pitch black darkness…the route I took was like something out of a horror movie. Dilapidated warehouses and abandoned buildings accounted for most of the scenery. But after the accident I vowed I would never drive again. In fact, driving scared me far more than the thought of Freddie Krueger lurking out there in the bushes.
Luckily, I made it to Dana’s crime scene forty minutes later, safe and sound. There, fire trucks, squad cars, errant fire hoses, and police officers littered the street.
The wheels of my bike rotated slowly as I pedaled into an area that had been sectioned off by yellow police tape as I looked for my friend Dana.
She was a tall woman, tough with a lean build and crystal clear eyes that sparkled like green ice. She wore her auburn colored shoulder length hair pulled into a ponytail. I could hear her barking orders as I followed the sound of her booming voice across the street.
The two of us made an odd pair, and it was amazing how we’d managed to stay friends over the years. I was the aimless artsy one; she was focused and professional. It was her drive that led her to make detective in four years. Though some of the guys in her district would suggest she’d been pushed ahead of the pack because she was a woman, Dana worked hard to prove herself.
“Hey, what we got here?” I asked, far more cheerful than someone entering a crime scene should be. A police officer standing nearby gave me an irritated look.
“Get your ass behind the line, Tai. You’re messing up my crime scene,” Dana yelled.
Dana was lead arson detective on the arson case. This was the third fire in six weeks…the modus operandi was always the same, mostly restaurants, though occasionally a barn here or there in the middle of nowhere.
I backed off. “What crawled up your ass and died?” I asked.
“Your mother. She called looking for you. I told her I was in the middle of something and she chewed my damn ear off.”
“My bad. What’s the scoop?”
“Same guy. Same M.O.”
Dana grabbed a piece of debris and held it in her hand, smoke still rising from it.
“Looks like he used an accelerant. Probably took less than an hour to burn this place to the ground.”
Dana chucked the debris aside. A man wearing a CSI jacket picked it up and placed it in a baggie marked “evidence”.
“And how do you know this?”
“Our dog sniffed it out. Judging by the char marks near what used to be a window, I would say the fire burned there first, spreading across the dining area to the kitchen. My forensic team is analyzing paint chips and pieces of wall.”
I pulled my notebook out and took notes, wondering why anybody would want to set this place on fire. The diner was just a tiny storefront on a busy two-way street, owned by a sweet hard working old couple. I’d eaten a burger in there once.
“What about the other restaurants? Any chance he’ll come back?”
“It’s inevitable, Tai. Unless we catch him first. He’s picking them off one by one.”
I followed Dana to a window where she kicked broken glass into the restaurant and looked inside.
“I’m taking bets. Will it be the Japanese restaurant across the street…or The Pancake Shack on 5th?”
“Anything’s possible at this point. We’ll keep our eyes on both.”
I scribbled some more. A uniformed officer gave Dana a chart. She gave it a cursory read, took a pen out of her jacket and signed the document.
“Wanna get some lunch tomorrow?” I asked.
“Let’s do that. Across the street?”
I looked up. “Why?”
“I told you I’m keeping an eye on the place. The suspect might come back to have a look at his handy work. They always come back.”
“Cool. We’ll catch up.”
“How’d you get out here?”
“I rode my bike.”
“This time of night? I’ll give you a ride home. I’ll be done in a few minutes.”
Dana snapped her fingers and a young officer with a dog pushed his way through the crowd towards us.
“Nah, I’m good. I’m gonna grab some coffee and hammer away on my laptop for a while.”
“You sure? It’s raining pretty badly out here.”
Thunder crackled again as if to emphasize her point.
“I like rain. I’ll catch you tomorrow,” I said, hopping on my bike again.
I rode across the street, dodging a fireman as he rolled a large white fire hose back onto a fire truck. He gave me a nasty look and spat on the ground, wiping a smudge of black soot across his cheek with the back of his hand as he dried his mouth.
I continued across the street and parked on the sidewalk in front of Satsuki Japanese restaurant, my back facing its large red sign as I took in the devastation unfolding across the street. The air smelled like barbecued pieces of wood and melted plastic.
Overpowered by the fumes, and realizing my laptop was probably wet, I went into the restaurant to see if I could salvage the damned thing. I sat down, taking a window seat. I did a double-take when I saw my reflection in the glass. My hair looked mangy and wet, and mascara ran down my mocha complexioned cheeks leaving a trail of ink colored tears in its wake.
The laptop beeped. I stared at the blank white screen of my word processor and hammered out a title. As I typed, a young Japanese waitress wandered out of the kitchen to my table. The restaurant was empty, the chaos across the street driving customers away for the night.
“Excuse me, may I take your order?” the waitress asked. She held a tiny notebook in her hand.
The woman was young, all of twenty years-old with big pretty eyes and dark hair pulled into two pony tails. She looked liked a school girl.
“I’ll have some coffee,” I answered.
“I’m sorry. We shut our coffee maker down for the night. We close in an hour. Would you like some tea instead?”
“Tea would be great, thank you.”
I looked away, typing again. A few minutes later the young woman returned, setting the tea on the table before me. She stood for a moment, gazing out the window.
“A shame the rain didn’t put the fire out.”
I looked up and gazed into her soft pale face.
“It was a nice restaurant,” she muttered absently. “You look cold. My brother told me to offer you a blanket. Would you like one?”
“I’m almost dry and the tea is keeping me warm… but thank you.”
“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”
“Maybe some more tea.”
The girl nodded.
Lightening lit the sky, revealing a glittering of stars behind dark ominous clouds. My eyes darted to a silhouette outside the window. A woman in a tan trench coat slipped out of a dark car, closing the door behind her. I watched as she raced into Satsuki, wiping rain water out of her eyes. A few seconds later, the door opened and the woman walked inside, an open newspaper covering her damp hair. She took the paper off and shook it, droplets of water falling to the floor.
I drained the liquid in my cup unsweetened, gazing blankly at my computer screen again. Suddenly, a familiar voice called me by name.
“Tai? Is that you?”
I looked up, immediately recognizing the woman.
“Rachel?” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here? How are you? How are the kids?”
I waved her over, wondering what she was doing out so late. She took her wet trench coat off and shook water onto the floor as she sat down, exhausted.
“Damn rain. I fucking hate it.”
Rachel’s thick brown hair clung to the side of her chubby cheeks. She blinked water from long dark lashes as we hugged across the table, leaning away from my laptop. A drop of snot tickled out of one of her nostrils and her hands looked shriveled and cold.
“I haven’t seen you since…”
“The party,” she answered dryly, trying to light the sopping wet cigarette in her hand.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
Rachel smiled. “Neither does Richard.”
She flicked ashes into a ceramic tray, covered with packets of sugar and salt.
When Rachel and Richard got married, everyone thought they were the perfect couple. Even their names matched. Rachel dropped out of college and married Richard before his unit deployed to Iraq. She was a twenty-five year old mom of two kids and as much as she loved them, hated the life she’d been dealt. Or rather, the life she chose…
I looked up to find the waitress next to my table. She set a cup of tea before me and took the old one away.
“So… what brings you out on this cold wet night? Shouldn’t you be at home reading the kids a bedtime story?”
Rachel spouted a cloud of smoke into the air, pointing her nose dramatically.
“They’re not up this late,” she answered, fanning a puff of smoke away from my face. “I was out with my old man. I told him to let me out at the diner.”
I almost spat tea out of my mouth. “I hope you’re talking about Richard.”
“Why would I be talking about Richard? If you must know, I’m having an affair,” she answered flippantly.
“Why? What happened?”
Rachel gave me a curious smile and pointed her cigarette at my face accusingly.
“Richard bores the hell out of me, that’s what happened.”
“What about the kids?”
“What are you, my mother now?”
“I’m your friend,” I sighed.
Rachel nodded as she drew from the filter of her ciggie again.
“Good…good. I’m glad I ran into you, actually.”
“What’s up?”
“I slipped out when Richard went to bed, but he must have realized I was gone because he called my cell twenty minutes ago, wondering where I went. I told him to pick me up. He’s been acting real suspicious lately. So if you don’t mind, I’d like to use you as an excuse.”
“As long as I don’t have to lie to him…” I started.
It wasn’t my style to get involved. I liked Richard. I wasn’t down with lying to him about his wife. Rachel took a puff of her cigarette again. I inhaled, drawing second hand smoke into my lungs, unable to meet her unrelenting gaze. She must have known by the look in my eyes that deep down inside, I was judging her.
“Don’t worry about it. He trusts me. But enough about my shit. How are you?”
“I’m fine. But sometimes, I miss Everett so much I feel like I’m losing my mind.”
“I know, sweetie…” Rachel softly replied. “Just remember he’ll always be with you.”
…And what if I didn’t want him to ‘always be with me?’. When is it okay to move on? Maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad about the accident if I weren’t always blaming myself. I met Rachel’s pitying gaze.
“When I’m alone in the house I see him as clear as day, standing right there in my bedroom. It’s scary as hell but I miss him so much I don’t want him to leave. I feel so torn. Whenever I think about being with someone else, you know, dating again… I feel like I’m betraying Everett. Like I don’t deserve to move on and have a life without him. It feels so wrong…”
“Everett would want you to be happy, Tai. Give it some thought.”
“Now you’re sounding like my mother. I know Richard’s boring and all but just thank your lucky stars he came back from the war alive.”
Rachel sighed.
“I’m sorry. I must sound like a real bitch when I talk about my husband.”
“I wouldn’t say that…” Out loud.
We looked out the window. A green minivan pulled to the curb, right in front of Satsuki’s. The door opened and a man jumped out and slammed the door behind him. He gazed at the burnt out diner across the street, a confused look on his face.
“There’s Richard. Just a head’s up before I leave…” Rachel said.
I gave her a questioning look and she gestured towards the kitchen.
“You might end up with somebody a lot sooner than you think.”
I turned around. The young Japanese waitress appeared at my table again with the check. What in the hell was Rachel talking about?
I looked at the young woman. “Thanks, I’d like to pay my bill now.”
She left and I grabbed the second cup of tea and drained it quickly, searing hot liquid scorching my throat. The young woman returned a few minutes later and sat the check on the table. I stayed another twenty minutes and finished my article. When I was done, I paid the bill and left her a small tip.
Thunder rumbled and lightening streaked across the darkened sky. I loved rain, but lightening scared the shit out of me. Especially at night, when I’m alone in bed staring at the ceiling, trying my best to fall asleep. I’d see things in the flickering shadows and angry flashes of light.
I looked back at the restaurant and thought about going inside. But the flashing green “OPEN” sign in the window powered down and a red “CLOSED” sign flickered on.
I hopped on my bike, swung my bag over my shoulder and pedaled away. I could hear the wheels crunching on top of pavement it was so quiet out. Everything in Madison Heights shut down at 11:00 pm, the boring little city that it is.
It was lonely out, but I didn’t need an mp3 player to keep me company. Nature had already provided an orchestra, like the thundercloud pouring rain on top of my head and the cold merciless wind battering my face. I was grateful when I made it to the deserted little bike path not far from my house nearly an hour later.
I entered the blackness of the bike path. There, pavement gave way to dirt and treacherous shards of rock where the mud had been washed away by the rain. I wasn’t intimidated. I knew every crevice, rock, and hill…I could ride the bike path with my eyes closed. But the most ungodly aspect of the ride was the unpredictable wind. Branches bent and swayed ominously overhead and my face was cold and red. Discomfort rendered the terrain completely unrecognizable as I blinked rain from my eyes. I just wanted to get home.
I adjusted the messenger bag swinging from my neck. It was getting heavy. I could feel the straps burning into my shoulders. I turned the handles on my bike swirling a full 360 degrees to a screeching halt, the tires kicking mud into the air. My fingers were numb. I blinked water from out of my eyes, wiping them with the back of my hand. I got off the bike and kicked the wheels, knocking mud from between the spokes.
I got on my bike again. Darkness loomed ahead. I realized the worst part of being alone, was the feeling that I wasn’t alone.
I looked over my shoulder. I saw someone in the distance, about a block away. I wiped my eyes hoping to make out one of my neighbors. Who was this stranger and what was he doing on our path this time of night? He rode a motorbike, and moved quickly towards me.
Our house was the only one for about two or three miles and the bike path ended well before then. I squinted, trying to make sense of the shadow, but he was gone… Where was he? He was there only a second before…
I was used to seeing ghosts around the house, but out here.
My thighs burned. Mud was clogging the wheels again and I had only gone a couple of blocks.
The bike path veered left of the road down a steep hill and whenever it rained, water and soot rolled down, washing the path with sludge. My bike sunk into the mess like it was quicksand, when suddenly I hit a bump and lurched forward, the chain on my bike snapping violently.
I was airborne for what seemed like an eternity. Then gravity took hold, ripping me out of the air like a disgruntled old man with a cane. I grunted, as I landed face down in the mud, blood dripping down my face. I tried to breathe but my chest hurt. Worse, the impact of my fall broke my laptop, smashing it to pieces.
I laid there a moment mumbling “fuck” and “shit” over and over again in frustration. Every bone in my body ached and the whole world went dark. Water from the puddle in crept into my nose. I coughed, choking as it burned the inside of my nostrils.
Then I heard it. The sound of a branch snapping underfoot.
There I was… alone, defenseless, and immobile in a deserted wooded area with Freddie Krueger . What in the hell was I thinking coming out here like this?
Then I heard it again… another footfall in the brush.
“Who’s out there?” I called.
I looked up, a desolate gray sky poured infinite drops of rain onto my face.
I waited quietly for the stranger to make his move as I wiped blood from my bottom lip, tasting dirt and soot… my nostrils leaked like I was a two year-old child with a bad cold.
A thin cloud of cigarette smoke settled overhead before slowly dissipating. The stranger was nearby.
I drew myself to my knees, palms on the ground. The cigarette in the stranger’s mouth dropped into the puddle at my finger tips, its dim red light slowly fading away in the darkness. Fiery red embers hissed at death by drowning.
The footfalls drew nearer, surrounding me in every direction.
“I’m just trying to get home,” I reasoned, giving the assailant a sideward glance.
I gazed into the darkness, hoping to make something out. A man of average height, lean, if not a bit muscular stood on the other side of my bike. I strained my eyes as I tried to make out his face.
“Do I know you?” I asked.
The man looked at me then reached into his front pocket, hand lingering a moment.
I didn’t wait for him to make his move. I scrambled to my feet and took off.
My heart was beating so hard I thought it was going to explode out of my chest as I tripped over fallen branches and stumbled through a bush where I cut myself on a vine of thorns, searing my skin away.
There I was…dodging boulders, evading trees and the possible axe murderer following me. I looked back, but only for a split second. He kneeled over my bike then stood, lifting it out of the mud. I ran like that creepy cop in the Terminator, and soon, saw light at the end of the tunnel. The trail, not far ahead, lead to the highway and the gravelly path to my house.
The sound of the stranger’s footsteps beating behind me in the distance soon gave way as I breached light and cut across the field. When I made it to the house I leapt two stairs at a time to the back door and banged it open with my fist.
I slammed it closed behind me. Safe, but exhausted, I slid to the kitchen floor in a heap and sobbed my eyes out…yet quietly, so mother would not hear me.
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