CHAPTER FIFTEEN
That voice – lofty, and arrogant – made my heart freeze in my chest.
The voice’s owner didn’t sound far off, and I strained my ears, trying to hear him over the whistle of the wind and the gentle babble of the river, trying to pick up on his location.
But he was remarkably quiet as he tracked me – and that was exactly what he was doing: tracking me.
But who? Who was he?
A face flashed in my mind. High cheekbones. A regal nose. It was an aristocratic face, the sort where you couldn’t guess the owner’s age just by looking. His hair was dark blond – the color of a cornfield, but his facial hair was darker, his beard trimmed into a neat goatee. His eyes were gray – not the dull kind, but stormy, the sort that resembled clouds fat with rain before a downpour.
All in all, he wasn’t particularly scary-looking, but a jolt of fear shot down my spine regardless.
The low hanging branches of an evergreen tree rustled to my left, and more than just my heart froze when he – the man the face belonged to – emerged from the dark forest.
He grinned, his white teeth taunting me. “There you are.”
I took a step backwards on instinct, my foot nearly slipping off the edge of the cliff and taking the rest of me down with it, but I managed to catch myself and regain my balance.
“Careful, sweetheart, we wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
No. He wanted to be the one to hurt me.
And suddenly, the unknown of the water didn’t seem so frightening.
I could feel my heart jackhammering in my chest, throwing itself against my ribs with abandon, but I knew what I had to do. Refusing to second guess myself, I took a deep breath… and jumped.
I had the pleasure of seeing the man’s eyes widen in surprise, his face twisting in fury before he disappeared from view. I didn’t have time to revel in his anger, though, because in the next instant, my body was hitting the water.
The impact stole the breath from my lungs, and I had to fight the impulse to breathe, knowing that I would only swallow water – cold water. It was like ice against my skin, not dissimilar to the sensation of a thousand pins pricking into every exposed inch of me all at once.
Worse, the current was rougher than I had anticipated, threatening to pull me down deeper. I tried to swim against the river’s grasp on me, but it kept jerking me back down, refusing to release me. I felt a burst of pain when the side of my head was smashed against something – part of the cliff or a rock, I didn't know.
The hit disoriented me enough that I no longer knew which way was up or down. All I did know, was that if I didn’t break the surface soon, it felt like my lungs would explode. They were burning in my chest, aching for air.
But it was like the river was holding me down. I was trapped in its angry current – a current that kept dragging me further and further down.
Panic and lightheadedness battled, and when I could resist no longer, I inhaled. But it wasn’t oxygen that met my desperate lungs. It was water. It rushed into my mouth and nose.
The river was drowning me.
I was going to die.
“Breathe, Wisp!”
My eyes snapped open of their own accord, and for a second all I could see was murky water. All I could feel was it rushing against my skin. All I could taste was the river in my mouth, my nose, my lungs.
“You’ve got to breathe, honey.”
But I wasn’t in the river anymore. I was in the cabin, Derek’s cabin.
Derek.
He came into focus, and I realized it wasn’t the river I was thrashing against… but Derek. It wasn’t the water’s current cruelly dragging me under, but Derek’s gentle hands, firmly grasping my shoulders, holding me down against the bed, stopping me from hurting myself in my nightmare-induced hysteria.
It was air I was choking on, not water. I forced myself to take in a noisy gasp.
“That’s it. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
It was Derek talking to me, encouraging me, and finally – finally – the panic tight in my chest began to recede a little.
Derek let go of my shoulders, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me to him so that we were chest to chest.
“You feel that?” he asked. “My diaphragm expanding in and out? Breathe just like that. In and out.”
Doing as he suggested, I used his breathing to guide mine, mirroring his steady rhythm until mine matched – until the forced calmness the action required was real.
Real.
That’s how my dream had felt. The water filling my lungs, pulling me down, drowning me. And that man. His face flashed in my mind, his stormy eyes and toothy grin. Whoever he was, he had wanted to hurt me. I knew he had.
Feeling a sob suddenly crawling up my throat, I buried my face in Derek’s shirt and cried. Not the pretty kind of crying where tears quietly dripped down your cheeks and the slope of your nose, either, but ugly crying. The loud kind that wracked your body and left your face a mess of tears and snot when you were done – the kind that made your brain throb against your skull.
Vaguely aware of Derek crooning softly in my ear – “Let it out. I’ve got you, honey.” – I clung to him like a baby koala clung to its mother, and I cried until I couldn’t anymore, until my eyes were sore and swollen.
Derek held me the entire time, and when I was finally done, he didn’t ask me what the dream was about or why I had needed to cry. He just kept holding me.
“Feel better?” he asked when I finally managed to stop hitching my breath.
A sense of déjà vu settled over me. “Feel better?” It was exactly what I had asked him when he was clinging to me at the bar, delivered with the same soft understanding. But just like I desperately wanted to know why he’d reacted how he had at The Tavern, he undoubtedly wanted to know why I was acting the way I was now. And suddenly, I wanted to tell him – I wanted to tell him about the reoccurring dreams I deeply suspected were memories.
“There’s a man in my dreams.” The words spilled out all at once, colliding into one another in their haste to escape.
Derek tensed, the arms around me growing rigid. “A man?” he repeated stiffly.
I immediately realized my mistake. “Not like that!” I hurried to clarify. “It’s just… I mean…” I trailed off. “He’s chasing me through the woods. I don't know why I’m running from him, but… but I think he wants to hurt me.”
I kept my face buried in his chest, not daring to look up and see his reaction, but Derek’s arms tightened around me, almost imperceptibly. “These woods?” he asked gruffly.
“I think so,” I confirmed. “At the end of my dream, I run through this cluster of trees and there’s this drop-off, a rocky sort of cliff with a river at the bottom. Then the man appears, he taunts me, and I don't know what to do, but I do know I can’t let him catch me, so I just… I jump.” I revealed, swallowing hard. “I think that’s how I ended up washing up on your land.”
Derek was silent as he digested my words. “What’s he look like?” he asked finally. “This man?”
I sniffled. “I don't know. Pretty normal, I guess. He’s tall with gray eyes. His hair is dark blond and doesn’t quite brush his shoulders, and… and I think he has a goatee.” I knew it was a long shot, but… “Does he sound familiar?”
Derek was quiet for a moment, and then: “No.”
He sounded as frustrated as I felt, but I hadn’t truly expected any other answer and nodded miserably against his chest. I bit my lip. “Why do you think he’s chasing me?”
Derek sighed, smoothing down my hair with one of his hands. “I don't know, Wisp.”
I pressed my lips together, finally gathering up enough nerve to crane my neck up and look at him. His brow was wrinkled with worry, green eyes dark with some unnamed emotion as he stared unseeingly at the ceiling.
“Do you think I’m a bad person?”
His eyes darted down to meet mine. “What?” he asked, incredulous.
“I mean, why else would someone be chasing me?” I pointed out, finally giving voice to one of my darkest fears. “Maybe I was hanging out with criminals and doing… bad things! Like, stealing or hurting people.” As soon as it was out, the words wouldn’t stop coming. “It would explain my reluctance to contact the police. I probably don’t want to remember all the awful things I did, and this… memory loss thing is my subconscious' way of protecting me. I probably deserve-”
“No.” Derek’s voice was so stern that it stopped me short.
I blinked. “No?”
Derek gently grasped me by the chin. “Listen to me, Wisp, if there’s one thing in this entire godforsaken world I know to be true, it’s that you’re not a bad person.”
I felt inexplicably warm in the face of his words, and yet… “How can you be so sure?”
Derek was quiet for a minute, searching my eyes before releasing my chin. “I’ve been working on a theory,” he revealed.
I frowned at the seemingly abrupt change of subject. “About me?”
He nodded, perfectly serious. “About who you are,” he clarified.
It was unlike Derek to be so purposely mysterious. (It usually just came naturally to him.) “And?” I pressed.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “And…” He paused, intentionally holding me in suspense. “... I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re a true blue, honest-to-God, fucking Disney princess.”
The line was delivered so somberly that it wasn’t until the twitch around his mouth became a full-blown grin that I managed to grasp that he was kidding.
Derek, cracking a joke?
“What?” I asked, flabbergasted.
“I’m serious,” he assured me. “I’ve been cataloging evidence.”
I was still in shock. “Evidence?” I repeated dumbly.
“Sure. How else do you explain you showing up out of thin air with no memory of your past, spreading sweetness and light everywhere you go? I mean, you love animals, and they love you. Hell, Thane is practically your animal sidekick, and he’s my dog. It’s insulting is what it is. I’ve been waiting for you to burst into song any day now.”
My shock had transformed into genuine amusement half-way through his monologue, and by the time he was finished, I was snickering into his shoulder. The snickering soon turned into outright chortling, and before I knew it, I was laughing so hard that my side ached – that I knew I’d be crying if I hadn’t already used up all my tears earlier.
I didn't know how badly I had needed the stress relief until I finally managed to get my giggles under control, lying breathless and lax against Derek’s chest. I was smiling – remnants of amusement still pulling at my mouth at his so-called “theory”. I glanced up at him. “Well, if I’m a princess, then who are you?” I teased good-naturedly. “Prince Charming?”
The languid grin slid his face. “No, honey.” He looked away. “I’m the villain.”
“The villain?” Shocked dismay filled me. Sitting up and twisting around so that I was resting on one of my elbows, I stared him down. “Derek… you saved me.” I bit my lip. “You save me over and over again.”
He still wouldn’t look at me, his eyes focused somewhere over my shoulder. “I’m nobody’s savior.”
How could he possibly think that?
Taking a deep breath, I gently took his face into my hands and made him look at me. His stubble was rough against my palms, and I couldn't help but think how it would feel elsewhere, against my cheek or… other places.
“You’re mine,” I assured him softly. “You’re my savior.”
He stared at me incredulously, but there was a hint of awe in his green eyes, and when his eyes flitted down to my mouth – the action almost involuntary – before jerking back up to reconnect with mine, it was enough for me to finally gather the courage to do it – to do what I’d secretly been longing to do for a while.
And darting forward, I pressed my lips to his.