Ruin & Rule

Page 55

He took a moment to reply. “Because you’ll never see him again. And hopefully, knowing what haunts him will give you the closure you need. To know that you never stood a chance.” His voice lost its chivalrous edge, sliding straight into arctic. “I told you so you’ll never try and ruin him again, because you’re nothing to him. Just like all the rest.”

His words tore me into pieces and there was no one who cared to sew me back together again.

He slammed the door.

He left me to bleed out with a soul that was unstitched and drifting away with endless pain.

“What’s my name?”

Nothing.

“What’s my name?”

Silence.

“What’s my name?”

Blankness.

I cursed in frustration. The swear word bounced around the black box with no one but me to hear it.

Fourteen hours had passed since Grasshopper fed me breakfast and shone light on his president—a man he obviously loved. Six hours had passed since another Pure Corruption brother brought me dinner of microwaved lasagna and a soft drink.

Two hundred and seventeen times I’d asked myself the same question.

Two hundred and seventeen times I’d gotten no reply.

It was all enough to drive me into madness.

I gave up, sliding down the wall to lie on my side on the lumpy mattress. My inhale and exhale were the only noises in my silent world. It was as annoying as a tap dripping, or a clock ticking, or a fly buzzing.

There’s no way I’ll sleep.

I was drained but not sleepy. Teary but not hysterical. I’d made it this far without losing faith—I just had to keep going, no matter what tomorrow brought.

Balling my hands, I wedged them beneath my cheek and began all over again.

“What’s my name?”

Nothing.

“What’s my name?”

Silence.

“What’s my name?”

Sarah.

I froze, turning to stone.

“What’s my name?” I whispered.

Sarah.

“Sarah! Dammit, leave the poor pussy alone.”

I grinned at Corrine, tucking the little black-and-white kitten into my jacket. “Pussy, huh? That’s a bad joke—even for you.”

She giggled, her blonde short hair ruffling in the winter wind. Living in England was a privilege to be around monarchs and history and pedigree of families who could trace their lineage back to the Stone Age, but damn, the weather sucked.

I’d moved to England to study my degree. I’d moved from the United States. I’d moved because…

Like always the wall came up, slamming shut in my face. I sighed, so used to not remembering anything before my fourteenth birthday that I no longer cared. I had a great new life, a boyfriend who adored me, and an education that allowed me to work with animals who appreciated everything I did for them.

I was living the dream.

So why does your heart pine for something you don’t recall?

The question was like a haunting—never leaving me alone.

Corrine looped her arm through mine, joining forces against the ice. We lived not far away, in a quaint studio apartment that we both could barely afford and that created multiple problems whenever one of us wanted our respective lovers to spend the night.

Living with no recollection of my past or family was hard, but somehow I’d made it. The doctors said I might remember someday. But as the years ticked past, that scenario became more and more unlikely. There was nothing they could do for complete amnesia brought on by almost dying. And I was beyond grateful that my other brain functions seemed to be normal. No one could explain the burns to my body—or how I was found supposedly in a ditch of some field.

It was all a mystery, never to be solved.

In tribute to a past I no longer knew, I’d inked the mirroring side with everything I could imagine I liked when I was a little girl. I went crazy, and paid the price in pain and needles, but every time I looked at the tattoo, I somehow felt closer to my past.

However, there was one hidden design that I knew would someday unlock my mind.

An equation.

Buried and obscured so the scrap of truth would be seen only by me. No one else would get it. No one would give me a key to solving it. It was my ultimate goal to know.

“Fancy a movie tonight?”

“Sure,” I said, pressing my nose against the soft bundle of fur. I hated seeing abandoned pets. I single-handedly kept the animal shelter in business by delivering homeless creatures.

I did it because I was homeless in a way, too.

“Good. I’m thinking something sexy. Fancy watching some naked man with blue eyes ravaging the heroine?”

I laughed, squeezing her arm tight. “I’m all for that—but can my hero have green eyes instead?”

The past faded away.

A smile bloomed on my face.

“My name is Sarah, and I’m beginning to remember.”

Chapter Fourteen

Work came in many forms. Many obsessions. Many goals.

Mine hadn’t deviated since my life had changed forever.

I had a plan. I’d been working on it for eight long years.

Every contact, every dollar, every trade was all for one outcome.

And finally, after all this time, I could taste freedom from my quest.

I was about to become their worst fucking nightmare and they were completely oblivious.

—Kill

“Morning,” Grasshopper said, sticking his head around the door.

I sat up, stretching and trying to hide my yawn. There was something different inside me—a cracking of sorts. It was as if the wall that barricaded everything wasn’t as strong anymore—hairline fractures, tiny fissures had diseased the fortitude, allowing spears of light to glow.

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