The Red Diary Read Online Free PDF Page B

was Henry Ash's fault.
    After the accident, John Armstrong had sunk into a depression that kept him in bed for days on end, but only when Henry cheated him out of his half of Double A Construction, the company they'd built together, had things turned so goddamned, unforgivingly ugly. Losing all he'd worked for had been the blow that pushed their father so far into despair that he wanted to hurt someone. That someone should've been Henry-but Nick, Elaine, and Davy bad been easier targets. God, Davy, why did you have to go out into the garage? What did you say to him? What even made you go near him? Nick couldn't bear to firmly recall the horrors of that day, but flashes of memory blinked through his mind as his headlights cut a swift path through the balmy night. He could still feel the chill of the white hospital corridors, the fear that had immobilized him as they'd wheeled Davy away, not letting him follow.
    Nick nearly ran a red light, looking up just in time to slam on the brakes. His father slid into the floor, but barely seemed to notice-just silently pulled himself back up, then let his head droop against the leather seat, resuming his rag doll posture. Nick simply shook his head, then pushed the memories away. They never hurt any less, and they sure as hell never helped anything.
    When the light changed, he floored the gas pedal as he passed empty fruit stands and ailing businesses on a deserted stretch of Alternate 19 that'd once thrived. He wanted to get the old man home and get on with his life. "How's business, son?"
    Nick glanced toward the passenger seat, where his father sat suddenly awake, even if bleary-eyed. It was like that sometimes-his father could lie passed out for hours, then open his eyes without warning and act as if he'd just been sharing a long conversation with you.
    He returned his gaze to the road. "It's good, Dad. Good."
    "I'm proud of you, Nicky," he slurred. "You know that, don't you?"
    Something in Nick's gut pinched. "Yeah, sure, I know." They did this every now and then, had this same inane talk. He supposed his father's praise was meant to make up for everything, but nothing could make up for the past. . Soon after, he watched as his father stumbled from the Jeep toward the run-down' building he called home.
    Around 1960, the Sea Shanties-a collection of four apartment buildings-had probably been shiny and new, but now the shine had all peeled off and the place housed drunkards and single moms on welfare. He pulled away, unconcerned with making sure his dad got in all right; he was just glad to be alone again.
    Swinging the Jeep into the driveway of his oceanfront condo a few minutes later, he went in, kicked off his shoes, and fell into bed, still in blue jeans and a T-shirt. The red glow of the clock next to him said it was only ten-thirty, but it'd seemed like a hell of a long day,
    Sitting up just enough to yank his shirt off over his head, he dropped back to the pillow and let his eyes fall shut. He didn't want to think about his father anymore, or Davy, or Henry-and as sleep began to descend, a much more inviting image re invaded his mind unbidden: Lauren Ash.
    His thoughts grabbed hold, focused warm and tight, and a fantasy quickly took shape. In it, he was pushing aside all that smooth satin, running his hands over inviting curves and valleys, molding her breasts in his hands, soon kissing their puckered tips. He licked and suckled her and let her soft sounds of pleasure drive him forward.
    He envisioned himself lying in bed, just as he was now, except that Lauren Ash hovered over him, her body skimming his, her golden hair cascading over his skin. She kissed his mouth with full, sensual lips, then grazed a kiss over his jaw, down onto his neck. She kissed her way down his chest, stomach, .. until she finally opened his jeans and took him into her soft

mouth. Yes.
    Nick still couldn't believe what a beautiful woman she'd grown up to be, or that he was falling asleep to imagined