I scowled. “What are you doing here?” My hands tensed around the chain of my swing. I didn’t want him to see the hurt in my eyes or the love in my heart. He didn’t deserve me anymore—not with his horrible behavior.
Art moved in front, grabbing the chain so my swing snapped to a halt. His groin was eye level and I swallowed hard.
Bending over me, he whispered, “I’ve been a fucking idiot, Buttercup.”
“Don’t swear and don’t call me Buttercup.”
He smiled, but the grin didn’t meet his eyes. He looked sad and lost and afraid. “Did I ruin it? Did I break what we had?”
My stomach twisted into bows.
Letting his grip trail down the chain, he captured my hands and squatted in front of me so he now looked up as if begging. “Cleo. I know I was an ass to you. But… I miss you.”
A large ball wedged in my throat.
I miss you, too.
I love you.
I want you to love me the same way.
Everything I wanted to say slammed against the ball in my throat, keeping me mute.
His cool hand landed on my cheek, smelling metallic from the chain. “We promised a while ago that we’d forgive each other anything. Will you do that for me? Will you forgive me for hurting the one girl who I love more than anyone?”
I almost fell off my swing; it was only my death grip that kept me upright. Love. He loved me. Like a sister? A friend? An annoying little tagalong?
My voice cracked as I whispered, “What do you want from me?” The question was strangely wise and older than my thirteen years. But I knew exactly what I was asking and I knew exactly what I wanted.
His face came close, his nose skimming mine. It was the closest we’d ever been to kissing. Tickling and planting kisses on each other’s laughing faces when we were younger didn’t count. This… It was different. Completely different. Wild and naughty and grown-up.
“Everything, Cleo. I want everything from you.”
The slowing of the motorbike and quietening of the rumbling engine tore my mind from the past. Arthur’s powerful bulk rested in my arms and I squeezed him as hard as I’d squeezed the swing chain.
I couldn’t breathe as emotion tsunamied over me, drowning me in love for this complicated man. I loved him the moment he carried me home after falling off my bike. The stars made me for him. I was his and it killed me to think I’d forgotten it.
Forgotten him. This place. Our past.
Everything.
I’d walked away and forgotten the most important piece of my life. How had I survived without him? How had I found comfort with a boy with brown eyes that I still couldn’t remember? It didn’t make sense that my brain had shut off someone so important.
“I’m so sorry, Art. For leaving you.”
Tears trickled down my cheeks as I hugged him harder. My arms ached, my heart burst, but I couldn’t get close enough.
His arms landed over mine, squeezing back. Letting me go, he yanked his helmet off and spun to face me. “You remembered?”
“Our first kiss?”
“What I said to you that night.”
I nodded, my eyes dropping to his mouth. “You said you wanted everything from me.”
“And did you give me everything?”
I said softly, “There was nothing to give. You owned it all already.”
His lips smashed against mine, his tongue spearing into my mouth, transporting me back to our very first kiss.
His lips were warm and tasted of blueberry bubblegum.
The moment his mouth met mine, I knew.
I knew why I’d been born and what my future had mapped for me.
I would marry him.
I would be by his side until death did us part.
His hands went to my face, holding me in place as the strangest sensation of his wet, delicious tongue coaxed my lips to open.
They did.
And I shuddered in his arms.
There was nothing awkward about our kiss. Nothing experimental or uncertain. We knew each other so well, we’d mastered our souls—it was only fitting we mastered our first kiss, too.
Art pulled away, breathing hard. “Are you remembering more? Being here?”
I frowned. “I remember that evening vividly. I remember the seesaw and the tree across the park where you pushed me up against and kissed me harder than you’d ever kissed me before. But I don’t remember how we got there, where we were going, or where I lived.” I shook my head, my fingers tapping my temple. “It’s all there, just… filed in the wrong places.”
His eyes darkened. “I hope the next place I show you will bring back everything. If it doesn’t, then I don’t really know what will.” Giving me a nervous smile, he added, “Don’t worry. Regardless of old memories, we’re together now and I plan on making a lifetime of new ones.”
Before I could reply, he kissed me tenderly, then spun back around. Placing his helmet back on, he eased the bike into motion, quickly catching up with Mo and Grasshopper, who had gone ahead, obviously to give us some privacy.
I wished I’d asked where we were going. What did he hope would jog my memory? The more we drove these streets, the more comfort and nervousness descended. I knew this place as surely as I knew Art when I first saw him, but memories were shrouded in mist.
The afternoon sunshine had turned from a golden glow to a russet haze as time inched onward, bathing the township in new beginnings.
My inner thighs ached and my ass was flat by the time Grasshopper and Mo slowed and turned their bikes into a pretty yellow-and-white diner.
I clutched Arthur’s midriff, anticipating a corner, but he only waved and increased his speed. We shot past, leaving them in our dusty wake.
Why are we going on alone?
I didn’t have to wait long to ask. Arthur drove through suburbia to the other end of town, then cut the engine and rolled to a stop in a bushy alcove off a deserted road.
Kicking the stand down, he clambered off the bike, before grabbing me and helping my jelly legs to unwrap from around his trusty machine.
“We’re here,” he said, ripping off his helmet, and shoving a hand through his slightly sweaty hair. He came closer, eyes full of anticipation. His fingers went around my chin to undo my helmet.
My skin sparked beneath his touch; I swayed closer.
His lips tilted into a half smile, showing off the sharpness of his strong jaw and the sexy mess of long strands falling over his forehead. Pulling the helmet free, he whispered, “Even after a two-hour ride, you’re still fucking stunning.”
I smiled as he kissed me softly. “I’m glad you think so, seeing as I have no way of making myself presentable.” Looking around the vacant road, I asked, “Where exactly did you bring me?”
His eyes lost their emerald glow, switching to a flat green. “Somewhere I swore I’d never go back to. The place of my fucking nightmares.”
My stomach clenched at his tone.
Burn, baby girl. Burn.
I swallowed hard. “Then why bring me here?” I peered into the bushes as anxiety settled heavily in my gut.
Danger. Run.
I shouldn’t be here.
He massaged the back of his neck. “Because it might remind you enough that everything else comes back. I need to know what happened. Then I can tell you what I plan to do.”
“Who you plan to hurt for revenge, you mean?”
He bared his teeth, the need for vengeance bright in his gaze. “Who I mean to kill—not hurt.”
“You can’t be serious.”
He froze, animosity settling like fog around him. “I’m deadly serious. If you knew what they did, you wouldn’t be so quick to judge.”
“Tell me, then, so I can make up my own mind.” My heart raced. “You can’t keep talking like that. What did they do? Who are they? Just tell me their names. Tell me what you did to land in prison. Tell me how you got out so soon, even when slapped with a life sentence.”
His m
outh fell open. “How do you know about that?”
I crossed my arms. “Grasshopper told me.”
“What the fuck?” He threw his hands up. “That damn dick. Can’t keep his nose out of my business.”
My temper flared. “You’re forgetting that you meant to sell me. He didn’t think I’d ever see you again. He told me certain things so I could go to someone new without wondering if I ever stood a chance with you.” My voice trailed off remembering what else he’d said. “He told me how you took women—how he could tell I meant nothing to you by the way you treated me.”
Arthur suddenly grabbed my shoulders. He shook me, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Don’t believe a word of bullshit he said. You mean every-goddamn-thing to me. Never doubt that. Ever.”
I smiled. “I know that. Now. But you were dense, Art. You were so wrapped up in your misery that even the truth wasn’t registering. On some level you believed me, yet you kept pushing me away and treating me…”
Arthur closed his eyes, agony etching his face. He pressed a fierce kiss on my forehead. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I’ll tell you every damn day for the rest of our lives. I’ll make it up to you—I promise.”
I shook my head. “I don’t need apologies. I hurt you more than I can bear by forgetting everything we had. I still don’t understand how my mind deleted something so fundamental—we both have faults. But there are a lot of things we need to talk about. I need to know—”
“I know all that!” Rage colored his face. “I know we need to talk, but goddammit, Cleo. Give it a rest.”
I froze at his sudden anger. What the hell had made him snap? “Art, what’s gotten into you? You can’t explode like that without—”
His hand swiped up, cutting me off midword. “For God’s sake, just wait, Cleo. Just once in your life, be patient.”
“I am patient!”
He scowled, stealing my wrist. “You’re never patient. But I’m fucking begging you. Let me tell you my way.” His face fell, unsuccessfully hiding his terror beneath his blustering anger. “Don’t force me to say something I don’t have the courage to. Not yet.”
My heart broke. I had no reply other than wanting to kiss him senseless and heal the tattered pain in his soul.
Without another word, he pulled me around his bike and into the undergrowth. Leaves and twigs reached out with sticky fingers, scratching over leather and bare legs.
I couldn’t stop repeating his grumbling remark about my patience. I was a saint when it came to waiting for answers. Unable to stop myself, I muttered, “Once in my life I should be patient? I think the last eight years I’ve shown I have a high tolerance of the word.”
He turned on me, his nostrils flaring in anger. “And I haven’t? I didn’t have to spend the last eight years loving a ghost only to find out you’ve been alive all this time, living it up with people who cared for you, happily building a new life without me?”
Shit.
“That was low of me, Art. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant—”
“Fuck, this is all kinds of screwed up. What the hell am I doing?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, grabbing hold of his temper and swallowing it back. “I know you didn’t. It’s just so fucking hard to know you’ve been alive all this time while I thought you were dead. If anyone deserves the award for not losing their mind and being patient, it’s me.”
He slammed a fist against his chest. “You don’t seem to get it…” Looking away, he laughed morbidly. “And why would you—you have no idea what happened while you were gone. But take my word for it—I’ve been planning this for a very long fucking time. I could’ve had my revenge years ago. I could’ve just gone in there and murdered the son of a bitch in his sleep and not cared if they killed me in the process. But Wallstreet—”
That asshole again.
“Wallstreet? What does he have to do with this?”
Arthur smiled sadly. “Everything. He has everything to do with this. And you’ll see why if you just follow me and let me show you.”
How had this turned into an argument? Just being back here—wherever we were—made me irritable and uncomfortable. I wanted to leave. The sooner this was over, the sooner that would happen.
Forcing myself to let go of everything, I murmured, “Show me. I want to see.”
His shoulders slumped. “I know this will be hard in some ways. To recognize this place but not remember.”
It was my turn to smile sadly. “It’s no harder than recognizing you and not recalling our life together.”
He swallowed, his powerful neck clenching with the effort. “You have no idea how true that is.” Shadows swarmed his eyes. “I’m not going to deny that I’m struggling. I’m struggling with every damn memory we ever made together, knowing you don’t remember.” He sighed, looking away. “It’s like I’ve had every wish come true, only to find out that part of what made us so special has disappeared.”
My head ached with the pressure of his pain.
I couldn’t reply.
Silently, he took my hand, looped his fingers with mine, and guided me through the undergrowth.
We didn’t go far off the road before Art darted behind a tree and pressed me against the bark. His heart thundered against mine as he slapped a hand over my mouth.
“Quiet,” he hissed into my ear. My back locked as I listened for what had spooked him.
Only the gentle whistle through the leaves and the soft hum of insects.
My own heart matched his in rhythm, nervousness once again thickening my blood.
A minute ticked past before Arthur let me go, his warm hand falling from my lips. “Sorry, thought I heard something.” His eyes fell to my mouth, hips pressing harder. “However, this position does have some advantages.”
My lips twitched as his head bowed, his lips brushing ever so gently over mine.
I moaned slightly as his hardening erection nudged my lower belly.
Laughing under my breath, I pushed him away. “Stop it. If we start, we won’t get this over with.” And I really want this over with so we can leave. I was spooked for reasons I couldn’t explain.
God, everything hurt. Beyond hurt—agony. No, beyond agony—excruciating torture.
My vision was black, my lungs choking on smoke, and my entire body belonged to eternal flames.
The sound of tires squealing and then the rush of footsteps echoed in my roaring ears. All I could focus on was the crackle and spit of fire. It lived inside me, turning my thoughts to ash.
“Hello. Can you hear me?”
I screamed as something touched my charred arm.
“Don’t touch her. I’ll call an ambulance.”
My life flickered in and out, half in this world, half in the nether. All I remembered was pain, pain, and more pain.
Then bright lights and scents of antiseptic.
“We can’t treat her here. We don’t have the necessary equipment. We’ll arrange an airlift and get her to the closest doctor who can save her.”
“Will she live?”
My ears fought the whooshing sound of fire to lock onto the answer.
Will I live?
Do I want to live?
What is there to live for?
“I don’t know. It’s all on her. Let’s just hope she has someone to pull her through. Did you find any identification? Family we can call?”
My heart picked up its sluggish beat, fighting back the crippling pain.
Family.
Yes, I had family.
Didn’t I?
I screamed again as the pain began to delete everything inside. I grasped harder to each tendril as the flames turned inward, devouring my past, my sanity, my very essence of who I was until I had nothing but emptiness.
I was blank.
The flashback ended. I stumbled, even now feeling the torture of surviving the fire. For once I found my amnesia a blessing. I wished I could’ve continued to forget that crippling agony.
“You okay?
Shit, Cleo, you’re shaking.” Arthur wrapped his arm around my shoulders. His body heat was comforting but too stifling after the memory of being burned alive.
I pulled away, rubbing my hands over my face. “Yes, I’m okay. Just—let’s keep moving. I need… I need to keep moving.” My voice was brittle and I knew if Arthur asked me one more time if I was okay, I would lose it.
At least now I knew how I’d been taken far away after crawling through the undergrowth and passing out in a ditch. All I’d known was I had to run. Had to crawl. Had to flee in any way possible.
The nice people who’d found me had probably saved my life in more ways than one—not just my immediate predicament but taking me far away, too.
Who had wanted to kill me?
What had I done to warrant it?
Arthur stood locked in place. The look in his eyes battled with questions and the need to help.
But he honored my wish. Whispering softly, he said, “This way.” Taking my hand, he ran a thumb over my scarred knuckles, granting me an anchor of our love. “One glimpse, then we’ll go, Cleo. I don’t want you here anymore. I hate to think of you reliving things that you’re afraid to tell me.” His gaze dropped to my scarred leg, brimming with hate and regret and sorrow.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you for understanding.”
Nodding once, he guided me the remaining way. The undergrowth thinned as we moved closer to our destination.
The high wooden fence appeared as if from nowhere, dappled with late-afternoon sunshine and stencils of leaves. The top was protected by vicious curls of barbed wire.
Every paling was straight and perfect, no warped wood or rot to be seen the entire length of the perimeter.
“What is this place?”
Arthur tugged me closer, his large boots surprisingly quiet on the strewn leaf matter and twigs. My sneakers, on the other hand, seemed to find every crackle and snap available.
Not stopping until we were in touching distance of the fence, he pulled me to stand in front of him. Backing me against the wood, he splayed his hands on either side of my head.
The intense look blazing in his green eyes undid me.
My mind raced with need. My core twisted at the thought of him taking me. Here. Now. In the middle of wherever the hell we were.
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