by Regan Claire
“And April?” Rhys says, brushing a stray hair away from my face, and my gaze is once again pulled to his. Has he always been so emotive with his eyes? I don’t need my powers to see how he feels, not when he’s looking at me like this. “Call me when you’re ready for those new memories.”
I almost tell him that I’m ready now, because part of me is. Part of me feels a desperate need to be with him right now. But my head is more full of the tortured love I forced on Smith than the half remembered love I had with Rhys.
“Good-bye Rhys,” I tell him softly. I don’t thank him for coming. I don’t tell him I’ll call him. I just turn around and start trekking up the stairs to my apartment. When I get to the door, I take a deep breath before going inside.
The door is barely open before I’m pulled inside and wrapped in a hug. It takes a moment for me to relax into it, but eventually I let myself be comforted. Eros offers a very different comfort than I felt with Rhys. It’s a different type of love, because love is what I feel from Eros as surely as I’ve always felt it from Rhys.
“I am so sorry, April.” His voice is muffled through my hair.
“For what?” I ask, pulling away.
“For not telling you everything. If I had, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”
“Did you know Smith was dangerous?”
“Of course I knew he was dangerous. We’re all dangerous. But in the past, his danger was relegated to sneaky and vindictive actions. We all know better than to accept a gift from the man.” He shakes his head. “No one thought he would do this.”
I turn away from him and walk farther into my apartment. I haven’t lived here for long, but it already feels like home, and I try to wrap the feeling around myself.
“Do you forgive me?” Eros asks. I freeze, because a small bubble of rage floats to the surface.
“Forgive you?” I close my eyes, pushing down the anger I feel. “Would you let it happen again?”
“Smith won’t be able to get near you again, don’t worry. Even Theo won’t allow it, not after what Smith has done.”
I shake my head and open my eyes again. “Theo won’t allow it? My life is mine. Whoever I was and whoever I am, I will not be treated like cattle. I will not be owned. Not again.” A whisper of my former self rises up. I feel her—me—and Eros’s eyes widen.
“Aphro—April.” His voice is pained. “What do you remember from before?”
“Snippets. I remember my only friend convincing me to bide my time on a wedding day I didn’t ask for.” I pause before asking, “Would you do that again?”
He takes a minute before responding. “You don’t remember enough to know what you’re asking.”
“What am I asking then? Tell me.”
“If there’s a line in the sand, you’re asking me to pick sides.”
I nod, because I am asking that. “Yes.”
He walks towards me so we are face to face. “If you remembered everything, you’d already know that I chose your side a long time ago.”
Relief fills my heart. “I thought he was going to keep me and everyone would let him.”
“Do you want to know the difference between now and then?”
“What?”
“You didn’t let him,” he says. Eros clasps my shoulder.
I straighten. “No, I didn’t.” I look away. “I hurt him, Eros.”
From the corner of my eye, I see him nod his head. “Love hurts sometimes.”
A laugh bursts through. It was nothing more than a quick “hah,” but it releases some of the tension. “I don’t know how to control it. I don’t remember…”
“I can teach you what you don’t remember about who you are; about what you can do,” he says.
I’m not sure I want to learn everything that I can do, because when I was with Smith I felt a darkness inside myself. Maybe it’s best I don’t fully remember what gave me that darkness.
Eros leans over and gives me a brotherly kiss on my cheek. “Get some rest, Aphrodite. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
I jump at the name. Is that still who I am? Who is April? Eros is watching me, I know he saw my reaction. He nods his head one time then walks out of my apartment.
I turn on all the lights, but this does little to ease the residual fear from the past couple of days. I want to call Rhys or Eros back, or anyone so that I’m not alone, but I can’t stand the thought of company right now either. Instead, I huddle on the couch, not bothering to pull the bed out, and let myself feel everything that has happened. A few tears escape, but I quickly wipe them away. No more fall.
There’s a part of me that whispers, reminding me that there is no reason to cry, because I am victorious.
An enemy has been defeated.
The first battle has been won.
That’s the part that scares me more than anything.
Also by Regan Claire
Gathering Water Trilogy
Gathering Water
Tempering Earth
Igniting Spirit
Sweet Tea and Summer Love
Want to Keep Reading?
The next book, Aphrodite Needs a Lifejacket, will be available summer of 2021. Check my page for updates.
http://www.reganclaire.com/aphrodite-needs-a-clue.html
A Note About Reviews
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Acknowledgments
As always, so many people deserve credit for this book existing.
First, always, is Jarrett. For loving me, and making my chaos yours.
Bruce Gore for, once again, creating such an amazing cover. I’ll get you that mansion one day. Promise.
Speaking of covers, mine wouldn’t exist without photographer Hani Alqawiz and model Nicole Woodruff. Thanks for sharing your art (and photo) with me!
Jared Dalton, Ronald Dye, and Michael Sparkman from the Jared Dalton Agency—thank you for all the work you did on the video and book launch. I couldn’t have done it without y’all!
My Beta Readers, Lenore, Alex T, Gena, Loni, and Alex W.
Theresa Kay, for always being a phone call away when I needed to talk out a plot point.
All my readers who have stuck with me, even though I haven’t released anything in ages. And all my New Readers for giving me a chance.
And last, but not least, my kiddos. Audrey, Rowan, Isabelle, Michael, Kinsey, and Emory. You guys are my motivation and inspiration. And no, you still can’t read this book until you’re older.
About the Author
A Tidewater girl born and bred, Regan Claire’s first friend and love was the Atlantic. Growing up being told legends about pirates and American Natives common in coastal VA and NC, coupled with being an only child, did wonders for her imagination; she’s had one foot in fantasy-land ever since, a trait her closest friends heroically endure (and one she secretly hopes her children have inherited). She moved inland to Nashville when she was entering tweenhood, and not a day goes by that she doesn’t miss her childhood playmate and its crashing waves. Nashville has her perks though, and Regan’s proud to be raising her children in Music City with the man she adores. She loves fairy tales, teen movies, and is constantly late.
where else to find me
If you’d like to be alerted when my next book will release, sign up for my newsletter on my website, listed below.
Website: http://www.reganclaire.com/
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