Chapter 3
Chapter Three
ELIZABETH
Images and scenes fast-forward behind my eyes, all jumbled and skipping from one to another.
Excitement. Joy. Freedom. Happiness.
“Your turn.”
Golden amber eyes.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Your turn.”
“No, Ryder! I can’t!”
“Yes, you can.”
“Are you crazy? I’ll probably drive it off into a tree!”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“Elizabeth, get into the driver’s seat.”
“Nuh-uh. Nope. No way. You can’t make me.”
Strong hands lift me up.
Longing. Yearning.
“Will you stay with me? Or just hold me until I fall asleep?”
“Elizabeth, I would do anything for you.”
“Would you rather be rich and feel somewhat content, or poor and be extremely happy?”
“That’s easy. I’d rather be poor and happy.”
“Me too. You make me happy, Ryder.”
Love. Lust. Passion.
My hands are pressed flat against his chest, his hands still gripping my waist. I inhale, his scent perforating my overstimulated senses.
His kiss is like standing on a beach in the middle of a violent thunderstorm. All pulsing, electric energy.
“Don’t stop, Ryder.”
My body is slammed up against a wall, his body following, pressing closely against mine. I hunger for him.
I gasp and grab at his shirt, ripping it. My hands mold to every inch of his chest, mapping every muscle and dip. This man is absolute perfection.
“I’ve always loved looking at you. You’re beautiful, Ryder.”
Heartbreak. Desperation.
“No, no, no. Elizabeth. Please, baby. Please. Please don’t leave me. Please, Elizabeth. I can’t live without you. I love you so much. Please, baby.”
I whisper back to him, “I love you.”
Fear. Hate. Pain.
A shadow rises from the darkness. He’s here .
Invisible tendrils snake around my arms and legs. I can’t move. The evil darkness hovers over me.
“Hush now, sweet Elizabeth. My beautiful broken butterfly.”
Blue and brown. Silver and red.
My body spasms in pain.
No! Stop! Why are you doing this?
Slice.
I can’t breathe.
Slice.
Evil has come to take me.
Red and pain.
“Do you see, Elizabeth?”
I wake screaming, my trembling body drenched in a thick, sticky sweat. No, this wasn’t a dream. I wasn’t asleep. Was I?
After running out of the student center, I managed to drive myself to my apartment. Everything after that is fuzzy.
Lifting myself off the living room floor, I stub my toe when I trip over two moving boxes I was going to unpack later. Nausea hits me hard, and I race to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time for my stomach to empty its contents, which isn’t much.
Quickly peeling out of my sodden clothes, I climb into the shower, turning the handle to cold. Cold is what I need to help clear my head.
I step under the icy spray and let it do its work until my teeth start to chatter. Feeling more alert, I turn the shower handle to hot and grab the liquid soap, desperate to wash away the gross feeling from my body.
As I shampoo my hair, I try to make sense of the memories. Most of them are unclear, like my amnesia is staking claim to them all, refusing to let go, leaving me in purgatory. An image flits across my closed eyelids and my hands still, the soap I lathered into my hair running down my face. I grab hold of it, not allowing my mind to steal it back and take it away from me.
Ryder .
The guy from the student center. The guy who said he knew me. The guy with the gorgeous dark hair, tanned skin, and intense light-brown eyes. I reacted strongly to him, feelings so powerful and overwhelming, I ran. It was too much. He was too much.
I rinse my hair, turn off the water, and step out of the shower. Standing naked in front of the counter mirror, I touch a broken butterfly on my side and follow the path of the other butterflies up to my breast. Heterochromatic blue and brown eyes look back at me through the polished glass, and I startle backward, my heels knocking into the base of the tub.
I immediately picture Ryder’s warm amber eyes. His are not the same as the eyes that haunt me like a dual-colored nightmare.
“Stop it,” I tell my reflection.
Piling my damp hair into a loose bun, droplets of water trickle down the back of my neck and send a shiver through my body. The soft material of my sleep shorts and tank top clings to my skin as I pull them on, the cool fabric contrasting against the lingering warmth from the shower. As I walk toward the closet, my bare feet sink into the plush carpet like quicksand.
My hand hovers over the door handle, fingers hesitating to grip and turn. The boxes wait for me, their contents whispering from the shadows of my past, teasing, taunting, daring me to open them. It’s like Pandora’s box—brimming with things I can never unsee once the lid is lifted.
My hand falls away.
I’m not ready.
It’s something I’ve avoided for almost a year now. So many questions, too little answers, and not enough courage to follow through.
There is one question, however, I want answered, and I know exactly who to ask. Before I can chicken out, I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and call Daniel.
“I thought we were videoing tonight.”
I sit down on my unmade bed and get comfortable. “We are. I need to talk to you first.” I chew on my thumbnail, something I notice I do when I get nervous. “Without Drew,” I add.
Drew has enough to deal with right now.
“Okay. Hold on.” I hear Daniel mumble something and then the sound of footsteps and a door shutting. “I’m in my study. We won’t be interrupted.”
“When…” I take a deep breath and try again. “When you and Drew came to get me and take me back to Seattle, did you meet anyone while you were here?”
“Yes, of course. We met with the lawyers, doctors, and police. There were a lot of things to do and get settled so we could bring you back with us. We used our personal lawyers and the law firm we keep on retainer to steamroll everything and get it done quickly. We were there for less than two days, and then you were transported back to Seattle with us in the corporate jet with a doctor and nurse on board. Why?”
“No other family members or friends? There was no one else there with me? No one who was worried about me or visited me in the hospital?”
His chair squeaks in the background. “Everything was so chaotic, and we feared for your safety. The whole situation was a shit show. Pardon my language. We just wanted to protect you and get you home as quickly as possible, where we knew you’d be safe.” He sighs heavily. “Perhaps we should have asked more questions. Did we do something wrong?”
“I don’t know.” I grimace. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right. I’m just surprised that no one has tried to find me. Wouldn’t I have had friends here, school buddies, anyone that gave a damn about me and wondered where I was?”
“The nurses who were assigned to you mentioned an incident. Something about a fight between two boys who had come to your room. The police officer stationed outside had to break it up. They were banned from the hospital and not allowed to visit you again.”
“Did they try to hurt me? Were they the ones responsible for?—”
He cuts me off with a firm, “No, sweetheart.”
“Who were the boys? Did you talk to them?”
“The only people I talked to were the hospital staff, the detectives, and our lawyers. I’m so sorry, Elizabeth. Drew and I never considered things like school friends. Our focus was to get you out of there as quickly as possible. Everything after that was a blur. Your recovery, Drew’s cancer, running the company. I was barely managing to keep things together. That must sound like such a selfish, flippant answer,” Daniel says, sounding pained.
“Please don’t apologize. I completely understand. It’s not like I’ve asked you about this before, but I am now. Do you know if one of the boys was named Ryder?”
“I don’t recognize that name. Elizabeth, why all the questions? Did something happen?”
If I tell him about my blackouts, the ones caused by the memory flashes, he’ll freak out and demand I come back to Washington. He’s already been on me about seeing Dr. Clairemont.
“There was this guy today. He recognized me. His name is Ryder, and he kept asking me all these questions, like he had been trying to find me.”
“That’s good, right? An old friend, perhaps? Someone who can help you start to put the pieces back together. What did he say?”
“I don’t know. I ran away.”
“Why did you do that?”
“I can’t exactly explain it. It was like I felt too much. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I ran. God, I’m so stupid.”
“You are not stupid. You have a lot to process, and this guy, Ryder, probably took you by surprise. I know the past fifteen months have been hard for you. Give yourself a break. And time. What about the stuff from your room? Have you looked through the boxes yet? There may be something that could tell you who this Ryder is to you.”
“I can’t, Daniel. Not yet.”
“I get that you need to deal with things in your own way and on your own timetable, but it’s time, sweetheart.”
“I know. Soon. Daniel?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“Back at you, kiddo.”
A smile curls my lips.
“Let me get something to eat and unpack the rest of my stuff, and then I’ll be ready to video. Is Drew up for it?”
“For you, sweetheart. Always.”
After we hang up, I puff my cheeks and blow out a breath, feeling better and more clear-headed.
Okay, Ryder , I think to myself, the next time we meet, I’m not going to run .