Memorizing Mace (Twist Brothers Book 2)
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Memorizing Mace © 2020 by Bex Dane.
All rights reserved.
Published by Larken Romance
Cover by Elizabeth Mackey Designs
Photo by Michelle Lancaster @lanefotograf
Model: Elliott Mallezee
Memorizing Mace (Twist Brothers Book Two)
I love him even when I hate him.
The last person I wanted to see after losing part of my memory was Mace Twist.
The cocky jerk betrayed me in the worst possible way, and I vowed I'd never give him another chance.
But he's the only one who can unlock the lost secrets in my brain, so I'm forced to team up with my sexy arch enemy.
As hard as I try to forget the blazing passion we once shared, my body has him memorized.
Can I take what I need from him without losing my heart all over again?
If you like enemies to lovers with bad boy alpha-male heroes and kickass heroines, you'll love Memorizing Mace.
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Contents
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Contents
Chapter 1 Loralei Valentine
Chapter 2 Mace Twist
Chapter 3 Negotiations
Chapter 4 Dragon Lounge
Chapter 5 The Bluffs
Chapter 6 Wicked
Chapter 7 Butt Dimples
Chapter 8 One-Way Street
Chapter 9 Remy
Chapter 10 Hot Sauce
Chapter 11 Hopper's Ledge
Chapter 12 Sunday Dinner
Chapter 13 Help Me, Dad
Chapter 14 Check-In
Chapter 15 Jealousy
Chapter 16 The Lone Ranger
Chapter 17 The Haka
Chapter 18 Hit Me
Chapter 19 The Handoff
Chapter 20 Hannah Clark
Chapter 21 Shopping
Chapter 22 Roller Coaster
Chapter 23 Seger
Chapter 24 Epilogue
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"Love is not how you forget. It's how you forgive."
Chapter 1 Loralei Valentine
Mace
My hands twitch as the glow of lights on the helicopter launch pad come into view.
This will be a story retold around the Twist family campfire for generations. History in the making. Tonight Arthur Morganna's reign of terror ends.
Cutter, my best friend and brother, has captured his abusive biological father alone on an island off the coast and has called us in for back up. This is what I live for. There's no better way to spend a Saturday night than delivering justice to a predator like Morganna. He hurt my family, now we hurt him.
I hop out of my truck and hold my arms out wide as I walk toward the four people waiting for me. "I'm here now. The ass kicking may commence."
My younger brother Remy rolls his eyes and frowns. "This is no joke, Mace."
"I'm serious. Crank her up." I lift my chin toward his luxury private helicopter. He spent ten million dollars on that hunk-a-junk, and hasn't taken me for a ride yet. "Show me your new bird."
He shakes his head as we share our fist-bump-bro-hug greeting. He turns and climbs in, prepping her for take off. From what I can see, the inside looks sweet. Leather seats, conference table. We're flying in style tonight.
My adopted father walks up to greet me with the family handshake and an extra hard smack on the shoulder. "Glad you could make it, Mace."
"Dropped everything and broke the sound barrier to get here in time." We keep our grip locked as we make eye contact. I'm hard to nail down, but for family, I always come through.
My mom and my sister Sutton are the last two people to say hello to me. They're dressed to kill. Skinny black jeans, dark leather jackets, hair pulled back, red lipstick on serious faces. "You guys look badass tonight."
I have to bend down to enfold my mom in a hug. Sutton's not much of a hugger, so we just do the fist bump. "I'm so nervous." She wrings her hands together.
"Don't worry. We got this." She stays out of the fray most of the time, but this one is personal. Morganna abused her too when she was young, so she wants to be there tonight.
"You ready, Ma?"
My mom pulls her shoulders back and forces a tentative smile. "Let's do it."
We all climb on Remy's posh chopper, the rotors boot up, and the Twist family is off the ground. History, here we come.
***
I can't sit still during the flight over the Pacific Ocean to Little Santa Rosa Island. It's only forty minutes, but feels like hours. Miles of dark waves with no sign of human activity have me doubting we'll ever find it. If we're late, I might miss out on all the action. Cutter has first dibs on Morganna, but if there's anything left of him, I'm taking my turn.
"There it is." Remy points to a cluster of lights ahead.
We're all staring out the windows, trying to catch a glimpse of what's happening down there. Palm trees blow in the ocean wind and a geometric white building draws all of our attention. Finally, as we touch down next to another helicopter, I see Cutter standing outside with Cass, blood smeared on his clothes, eyes wide, shoulders stiff like he's in shock. Cass is holding her arm, her hair is whipping in the wind, but they look okay. Another woman with them appears equally shocked, but uninjured.
Damn. Looks like we missed it. I'm happy they're okay, but would've liked to see it all go down.
I don't wait for the propellers to slow before jumping out the door. My parents and sister follow behind me.
The noise mutes their words, but my dad helps Cutter move Cass and the other girl out of the wind and into seats in the helicopter. My mom opens her first aid kit and starts checking Cass right away.
Cutter hugs Sutton for a long time. Sister and brother finally facing down their abuser. "Morganna's dead," Cutter says with the finality of a man who's been through hell and come out victorious on the other side.
Well, that answers that question. He's dead. Cutter took care of him. Good. The man terrorized Cutter and Sutton for years. He's the one responsible for the scars on his back and his heart. I'm glad he's gone. Still wanted to see it, but the deed is done. "Good job, brother."
He shakes his head like he feels bad, but he shouldn't. That asshole deserved to die. "Anyone else inside?" I ask as I hand my brother his gun.
"I don't know. It's a crime scene. Don't go in there," Cutter replies.
"I won't touch anything." I draw my weapon and jog to the front door of the structure. Cutter attempts to call me back, but he knows I can't be stopped once I'm in motion.
Inside, the living room is lit up but empty. All the bedroom doors in the east corridor are open. No one inside.
On the west side, I wince when I find Morganna's slashed up body on the floor in one of the rooms. Cutter did a number on him. He's motionless in a halo of blood. Must've been fun to watch.
Next room over is locked. I kick it open. A lifeless woman lies on the carpet, needles on the bed. She's barefoot, her jaw hanging slack, dark hair covering her face. "Oh shit." My heart, which was already racing, takes off at a million miles a second. I stand over her for a beat, not sure if I should touch her. It is a crime scene like Cutter said, but if she's not dead, she needs help right away. She has a slow pulse when I check her neck. Her chest rises and falls ever so slightly. She's alive.
I scoop up her limp body and start running. Her head flails, but I have to hurry to get her safe.
Lots of shocked eyes stare back at me when I run up to the hel
icopter. "There were needles on the bed," I say to my mom. I'm out of breath and not sure what to do. She could die in my arms if we don't act fast.
My mom pats her cheek. "Hello. Can you wake up for me?"
No response.
This is not good. My mom and Remy share a serious look and burst into action. "Put her on the seats."
It doesn't feel right to let her go, so I sit down with her in my lap. She could be someone's daughter, sister, wife. If she were mine, I wouldn't want her dying alone, I'd want someone to hold her, so I'm doing that.
I press her cheek against my chest and move her hair out of the way. My stomach pitches to my toes when I see her face. Instantly, I know her. I know this girl.
I've known her for a long time.
How could she be here? Why? She was fine last time I saw her. More than fine, she was radiant. I even followed her around for a while and didn't see any signs of trouble.
My mom gives her a nasal shot of some anti-overdose drug Remy had stored in the first aid kit. She heaves and coughs. Her eyes open briefly then close again. She's breathing, and she can open her eyes. That's a good sign.
"I know her." My voice is hoarse as everyone else looks on.
"You know her?" my mom asks. "What's her name?"
I can't believe it's true. It's impossible. I check her face again to make sure.
"Loralei. Her name is Loralei Valentine."
They all freeze when I say it. They know her name. She's caused us a lot of grief over the years as she attempted to exact revenge against me by hurting my family. Cutter and Remy hate her. Technically, I'm supposed to hate her too for what she did, but the past is so completely irrelevant now as she clings to life. This can't be happening to her.
"What the hell was she doing in there?" I yell at Cutter.
He shakes his head. "I didn't even know she was here."
"Let's get her to a hospital," my mom says.
They start talking about something, but my head spins. I can't concentrate on their words. It's a jumble of noise, and we haven't left the ground yet.
"Hurry!" My urgent yell stops everyone short. "We need to get her some help. No more talking."
Cutter and Cass rush to climb out of the helicopter. "Where're you going?"
"We're staying here to talk to the authorities." Cutter takes Cass's hand. "We'll check in with you later."
"Fine." I nod, but I don't care what anyone else does right now. I need her at the hospital, getting help, making sure she keeps breathing. I rub my thumb over pallid skin on Loralei's inanimate cheeks. She's ice cold. "Let's go."
Finally, my dad closes the door, the rotors ramp up with a thumping buzz, and we hover above the ground for a second.
Remy lifts the helicopter from the pad, and we pivot across the Pacific toward home.
I wanted action, but not this kind. Never this.
She can't die. Not her. Not Loralei.
"Hold on, sweetheart. We're getting you some help."
Chapter 2 Mace Twist
Loralei
Stinging light blinds me through my squinted eyes. Slowly, perforated ceiling tiles above my head come into focus. Where am I? My chest feels numb, but my arms and legs are burning.
"What the hell was she doing there?" In the distance, a deep angry voice rumbles and echoes, but the pounding in my head muffles it. "There's no way she went there on her own. Giselle and Arthur must be behind this."
The voice is definitely speaking to someone else. It seems like he could be talking about me, but I have no idea what the words mean. As I wake up more fully and turn my head, I see I'm in a hospital room. Panic bubbles in my chest. I'm in the hospital? And someone is yelling on their phone? What the heck?
"This is driving me nuts. She needs to wake up and answer some damn questions. First she shows up at Twist Cabins and causes a brawl. A few weeks later, she's unconscious on Morganna's island?" He pauses. "How could I have missed this? I'm telling you, I followed her to see what she was up to. She was clean. No ties to you or Morganna, so I let her be. I shoulda stayed on her."
He's quiet for a moment while I try to process all that's been said.
Twist Cabins.
I did go to Twist Cabins, but that wasn't weeks ago. It was just a day or two ago. I didn't realize someone there figured out I was behind the gossip that caused a massive fight to break out. So whoever this person is, he was there, he recognized me, and he followed me.
Oh no.
Tell me it's not him. It can't be him.
"How's Cass's arm?" The voice sighs and grunts as he listens to the other end of the conversation.
My eyes adjust and finally focus on a dark figure sitting in the corner of the room. Head down, long legs covered in dark jeans, thighs wide with his muscular forearms braced on them. One hand is buried deep in the curly long hair that conceals his face, but the visceral burst of dread rushing through me tells me exactly who he is.
It's him.
Mace Twist. My arch enemy since I was eighteen. The thief who stole my virginity then used me to get to my father. God, I hate him and he hates me.
Now he's sitting in a hospital room with me ranting about nonsensical things. Suddenly, it's hard to breathe, and I have to look away from the disturbing sight to put this all together. Okay. Let me think. It's so hard through the headache, but Mace is here. I'm in a hospital room. He saw me at Twist Cabins two days ago, and now he's angry at me for being on an island I've never heard of.
Oh Lord. What have I gotten myself into this time?
Mace grunts and shakes his head. "It's time for you to drop this now, Cutter. He's dead."
I hold back the gasp that wants to fly from my lips. Someone's dead? Cutter is Mace's older brother. Have I woken up in some kind of Twist Brothers' nightmare?
Mace must be so deep in his conversation that he hasn't realized I've woken up. He huffs out an ironic laugh. "I think she's the one woman in the world I can't persuade."
If he's talking about me, he's right. The hypnotizing power he wields over other women to persuade them to give up their values won't work on me. Not again.
"I'll ask her about Giselle, but I got work to do. I'm just here till she wakes up then I'm gonna make myself scarce."
So his plan is to leave once he knows I'm awake?
"Will do. Peace out."
He ends the call and looks up from under his sun-kissed hair. His face is tan from surfing even though it's winter. The man I've always thought of as the Hawaiian Jesus is sitting in a hospital room with me. His deep blue stare sears my eyes. The same gaze that seduced me then destroyed my life. He's dangerous. He can hurt me. Fear squeezes my chest and panic bubbles up my throat. This is unsafe. I need to run.
I scramble out of the bed, but I'm connected to tubes that shake and tug my arm back.
"Hey, hey, hey. Easy." He stands up and walks toward me with his palms down like he's herding a lost calf.
"Where the hell am I?" My voice comes out unusually fast and high-pitched.
"You're at SF General." He remains calm which only freaks me out further.
"Why?"
"We found you unconscious on Arthur Morganna's island." His brow furrows and his voice is solemn, but he can't be serious.
I don't even know Arthur Morganna. I've heard of the famous model manager, but I've never met him. Mace is such a liar. I can't trust anything he says. I try to dash past him, but he stops me with his strong hands on my upper arms. It stings like he's piercing my skin with needles.
"Whoa, turbo. You're not going anywhere."
I try to get my arm up near his face so I can throat punch him, but he's holding me in the iron-clad grips of his massive hands.
"Let me go!"
He wraps his trunk-like arms around my chest and pulls my back to his front. Tiny sparks explode from my skin like I've walked through a windstorm and slid down a metal slide. If I wasn't so weak I could think of a way to disable him, but I'm a mess right now. My arms and legs aren't li
stening to my brain. The heat from his body penetrates my skin, and I realize I'm wearing a hospital gown with the back open. No underwear. My naked butt is hanging out and scratching against the rough denim of his jeans.
He leans down and his deep voice vibrates in my ear. "Chill."
Gah! I hate him and his bossy voice. He's in total control over this situation, and I'm at his mercy. I want to fly through the roof to get away from him.
"You're still amped up."
"Amped up from what?"
Two nurses come in and pause when they see us in a clinch. He releases me, and I rush over to them. The IV cord pulls out and blood splashes onto the floor. "Oh my God. I'm bleeding."
I can't stop staring at the bright red plasma pumping from my arm. I know blood is red, and I've bled before, but it's never been as vivid as this. Mace turns away and pulls his hair back as the nurses snap into action to reinsert the tube.
They guide me back to the bed and reattach the IV. "How are you feeling?" One of them talks to me while the other finishes cleaning up the blood.
"My arms and back are stinging. I have a headache. My hands won't stop shaking."
"Withdrawals. Drug overdose," Mace says in an accusatory tone.
"I don't do drugs. You're lying. He's a liar." I point at him and talk to the nurses like they are police officers.
"Do you want us to ask him to leave?" The nurse glances from me to him. She doesn't seem to be concerned with his presence and continues working on my arm. That's probably because he's so handsome no sane woman would throw him out of bed.
Mace stands silent in the corner, his face unreadable and brooding. Considering he's the only one who seems to know what's going on here, I probably shouldn't kick him out. "No." I hate it, but I need to deal with him.
"We'll send in your doctor." The nurses leave. I glare at Mace and cross my arms over my chest.
"Don't mess up the tubes again," he says as he folds down into his seat.
"Don't tell me what to do. Tell me what's happening." I'm not interested in sparring with him. I just need to know what's going on, so I can get out of here.
"I told you. I found you unconscious in a room on Arthur Morganna's island. There were needles on the bed. We brought you here to save your life." He sounds indignant like it's my fault he had to rescue me.