Read Online SCARRED - Part 2 (The SCARRED Series - Book 2) by Kylie Walker - Free Book Online
Authors: Kylie Walker
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story was, but if I’m on the look-out for a guy who enjoys hurting women...I can guarantee you that he won’t get anywhere near you on my watch.”
The look on his face restored a tiny bit of her faith in the male species. He was definitely one of the good guys. She might just push this fantasy of Lexi’s along. Lexi deserved a good one in her life and maybe it would take her mind off the nonsense of wanting to starve herself skinny and strip. “Thanks,” she said again.
When she got back inside, she texted Derek. “Are you at the yacht?” His reply was almost instantaneous, “No, but I will be. When?” She would have to take a cab and in the middle of the day it would take almost an hour to get there so she text back, “A little over an hour?”
“I’ll be there,” was his quick reply.
Chloe finished getting ready and before she left she told Lexi, “The Hulk’s name is Brock. He seems nice and I told him you might feed him later. Keep it on the porch outside just in case.” Lexi’s face was suddenly glowing. She grabbed Chloe in a hug and Chloe tried not to stiffen up.
“Thank you! I have to get in the shower.” Chloe watched her scurry off down the hall with a smile. She called her cab and headed out to find out what Derek knew about her past. It was all so surreal...but this was her life.
*****
D erek sat on the deck waiting for Chloe. The past week and a half had been torture. He’d stopped himself from going to the condo or the club to see her at least a dozen times. She’d told him not to and he had to respect that. He was worried about her though. The realization that she was probably his late wife’s twin had knocked him for a loop; he couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like to her.
He had been busy the past week in spite of the time he’d spent worrying. The doctor that delivered the babies was retired and in a nursing home in New Hampshire. Derek had taken the helicopter and gone to see him. The old man’s brain was addled with Alzheimer’s or something and he thought Derek was his brother. He didn’t seem to recall any of his life after the age of twenty-one. He’d become a doctor when he was twenty-eight, Derek knew. When the girls had been born he was already in his mid-fifties. Derek had been tempted to throttle the old man, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Next, he had tracked down the mid-wife. She was living in New York in a tiny little walk-up in the Bronx. When he first contacted her, she’d been hesitant to meet with him, telling him she didn’t remember Samantha or the twins. He’d been persistent and had finally alluded to the possibility that he would be willing to compensate her for her help. She agreed, but only if he would agree to meet at her home. He’d arrived on time and after knocking several times, loudly, he had begun to leave, thinking she’d flaked on him. Just before he reached the stairwell he heard the creak of a door behind him. He turned and saw gray hair and an eye looking out at him through a chain on the door.
“Miss Brower?”
“Are you Derek Stark?” the eyeball asked.
“Yes, Miss Edith Brower, I presume?” She closed the door and he heard her fumble with the chain. When she pulled the door inward he saw that the eyeball belonged to a woman of about sixty with gray hair that hung to her shoulders and light brown eyes. She was of medium height and build and on first impression he found her to be one of those kinds of people that were so ordinary, they could blend into the woodwork of a place like New York City.
“Come in,” she’d told him. He’d stepped in and she had chained the door behind him. She led him to a small table next to the dusty window. They sat and she said, “I don’t know what I can tell you about something that happened twenty-four years ago.”
“That’s okay,” Derek said, “Why don’t we start with you telling me what you remember about Dr. Hayward?”
She scrunched up her face. It
The look on his face restored a tiny bit of her faith in the male species. He was definitely one of the good guys. She might just push this fantasy of Lexi’s along. Lexi deserved a good one in her life and maybe it would take her mind off the nonsense of wanting to starve herself skinny and strip. “Thanks,” she said again.
When she got back inside, she texted Derek. “Are you at the yacht?” His reply was almost instantaneous, “No, but I will be. When?” She would have to take a cab and in the middle of the day it would take almost an hour to get there so she text back, “A little over an hour?”
“I’ll be there,” was his quick reply.
Chloe finished getting ready and before she left she told Lexi, “The Hulk’s name is Brock. He seems nice and I told him you might feed him later. Keep it on the porch outside just in case.” Lexi’s face was suddenly glowing. She grabbed Chloe in a hug and Chloe tried not to stiffen up.
“Thank you! I have to get in the shower.” Chloe watched her scurry off down the hall with a smile. She called her cab and headed out to find out what Derek knew about her past. It was all so surreal...but this was her life.
*****
D erek sat on the deck waiting for Chloe. The past week and a half had been torture. He’d stopped himself from going to the condo or the club to see her at least a dozen times. She’d told him not to and he had to respect that. He was worried about her though. The realization that she was probably his late wife’s twin had knocked him for a loop; he couldn’t even imagine what it must feel like to her.
He had been busy the past week in spite of the time he’d spent worrying. The doctor that delivered the babies was retired and in a nursing home in New Hampshire. Derek had taken the helicopter and gone to see him. The old man’s brain was addled with Alzheimer’s or something and he thought Derek was his brother. He didn’t seem to recall any of his life after the age of twenty-one. He’d become a doctor when he was twenty-eight, Derek knew. When the girls had been born he was already in his mid-fifties. Derek had been tempted to throttle the old man, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good.
Next, he had tracked down the mid-wife. She was living in New York in a tiny little walk-up in the Bronx. When he first contacted her, she’d been hesitant to meet with him, telling him she didn’t remember Samantha or the twins. He’d been persistent and had finally alluded to the possibility that he would be willing to compensate her for her help. She agreed, but only if he would agree to meet at her home. He’d arrived on time and after knocking several times, loudly, he had begun to leave, thinking she’d flaked on him. Just before he reached the stairwell he heard the creak of a door behind him. He turned and saw gray hair and an eye looking out at him through a chain on the door.
“Miss Brower?”
“Are you Derek Stark?” the eyeball asked.
“Yes, Miss Edith Brower, I presume?” She closed the door and he heard her fumble with the chain. When she pulled the door inward he saw that the eyeball belonged to a woman of about sixty with gray hair that hung to her shoulders and light brown eyes. She was of medium height and build and on first impression he found her to be one of those kinds of people that were so ordinary, they could blend into the woodwork of a place like New York City.
“Come in,” she’d told him. He’d stepped in and she had chained the door behind him. She led him to a small table next to the dusty window. They sat and she said, “I don’t know what I can tell you about something that happened twenty-four years ago.”
“That’s okay,” Derek said, “Why don’t we start with you telling me what you remember about Dr. Hayward?”
She scrunched up her face. It
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