Every thought, move, breath and miserable memory are controlled by the organ inside our skull. They say our hearts are traitors, and that might be the case for some people, but for me, my body is a prisoner to my mind, not my heart. It’s the cruel bitch inside my head that allows me to remember certain things, tragic things that have been branded to me. Things I’ll never escape. Memories that invade my head and make me wish for death.

I want to be normal.

I want to be the girl who follows her gut and listens to her heart when it whispers to her she’s safe now. I want to believe the men who killed Rush and spared me had purity in their hearts and conviction in their souls.

I want to believe there is more than ugly in this world.

I want to believe not every man who smells like motor oil and dresses in leather is a monster. I want to believe that the man who is taking the little girl out of the car beside me isn’t going to do awful things to her—the things I’ve lived. The things I’ll never forget.

I really want to believe the man with the dark eyes who carefully holds Skylar as he stares at me isn’t going to be my new captor. I want to believe this stranger has saved me.

But my mind won’t let me.

“Come on, let’s end this nightmare,” the man holding Skylar says. I watch as he glances over to the driver and orders him to keep an eye on me until it’s time.

Time for what?

Before I can ask, cry or even scream, my dark-eyed mythical hero slams the door. I watch as the men dressed in all black with the Satan’s Knights patch branded to their backs climb the stoop with Skylar tucked protectively amongst them.

That wasn’t what it was like when I was taken.

Nobody held me like I was a fine piece of crystal. I was dragged from the van to a shipping container. My clothes were stripped from my body and I was chained to three other girls. The four of us stood naked in front of men we didn’t know and listened as they spoke with a foreign tongue.

Nobody cared.

“I’m stepping out to have a smoke,” the driver says.

Lifting my gaze to the rearview mirror, I stare at the man with faint lines around his eyes.

“Ain’t nothing to worry about,” he says, reaching for his cigarettes. “You’re safe now.”

Bruised, battered and withdrawing I couldn’t process his words. All I heard were the words my abductor whispered in my ear when I was fourteen.

It’s all right, there isn’t anything to fear.

The door shuts behind him; dragging me away from the voice inside my head and the memories my treacherous mind tries to feed me.

Help me.

Save me.

Kill me.

Kicking and clawing at the seat in front of me a scream wretches from my throat.

“Jesus, Ally, calm the fuck down.”

The scream dies on my tongue as I freeze. The sound of his voice washes over me and I lift my head to meet his gaze.

“You’re going to wake the dead with all that yelling,” Deuce says from the passenger seat, wincing as he turns his head and his swollen eyes stare into mine. I battle with my mind to remember what he looked like when I first saw him in Rush’s office, but the only memory that plays is him giving me a hit.

I want to beg him for more, just a little taste, enough to dull the throbbing pain throughout my body, but I’m too afraid he’ll give in. Too afraid I’ll close my eyes and submit to the drugs only to wake in a different hell.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“What?”

“Are you going to kill me? What are you waiting for? Don’t be a pussy, pull the trigger and do it already.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, shaking his head. “No one’s looking to kill you, Ally.”

“I knew it,” I cry, running my nails down my arms. “So, who do I belong to now, huh? Whose dick am I going to suck first?” I ask, pushing my hair away from my face. “The guy who took the baby? The guy outside smoking the cigarette? Or yours? Are you going to rape me or watch as the rest of them do?”

I ignore the tears streaming down my face and bite the inside of my cheek as he stares at me silently. It is then, in that very moment when my mind plays another trick on me and allows me to remember him as I did in Rush’s office. His eyes aren’t open as wide as they were then, but he’s just as dangerous as I thought he was that night. Like that first night, something changes and all I see is pity in his brown eyes.

“Make it go away,” I beg.

“I wish I could,” he whispers.

A sob escapes my throat as I pull my legs to my chest and rock against the seat. The door is pulled open and the older man who was driving looms over me.

“Let’s go, darlin’,” he says.

I stare at his outstretched hand and inch further away.

Why isn’t he grabbing me? Why isn’t he pulling me out of the car?

Patiently, he continues to hold out his hand.

“I won’t hurt you,” he promises. “Look, darlin’, I know you’ve been through a lot and we’re a bunch of new faces to you, but we’re not the bad guys,” he soothes, pointing to the patch on his chest. “The name is Wolf. My brothers gave me that name because like a Wolf, I hunt. I’m going to hunt down whoever the fuck is responsible for the fear in your eyes. And darlin’, I’m going to smile when I kill them. But before I can do that, before any of us can get you on the mend you need to come with me.”

I want to believe him.

I want my mind to remember those words. I want them to replace the words that haunt me every day of my life.

“Come now,” he urges. “Cobra needs to see your face.”

Wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands, I inch closer to Wolf and hesitantly drop my hand into his.

“Who is Cobra?”

He doesn’t answer me.

Noticing my question causes his eyes to water, I wonder why and who this Cobra is that everyone seems to speak of. I continue to stare into Wolf’s eyes, searching for the answers, and for the first time in twelve years, I tell my mind to fuck off and follow the whisper of my heart. Wolf leads me around the back of the car toward the same stoop I watched them take Skylar. Climbing the stairs, I glance over my shoulder as Deuce rolls down the window and meets my gaze. He doesn’t say a word, he just stares at me. I turn back to Wolf and let him lead me up the stairs and inside the house. We follow the sounds of the men talking until we are at the top floor. The man with the shoulder length hair, who shot Rush and pointed his gun at me, greets us. He holds a hand up to stop us from entering the apartment he’s guarding.

“Not yet,” he mutters.

A woman’s voice cries from beyond the door and confusion ripples through me. At first, I tell myself it’s because I wasn’t expecting a woman. Then I realize the sound is familiar, it sounds like the whisper of my heart. I don’t have a chance to process it because another woman speaks and her question is quickly answered by a male voice I know too well, a voice I can place.

A memory I can place.

Stryker.

Once upon a time, I thought he was the man who would rescue me. For a brief pause in tragedy, I foolishly believed I could be worthy of a happily ever after. He was different. He wasn’t heartless like the rest of the Satan’s Knights of Albany. Stryker was the last man, no, the only man who ever gave a damn about me. Like Deuce, he would look at me with pity in his eyes. At the time I didn’t know it was pity and thought it was more. I thought maybe he could care for me and see past the mess I had become and find the woman I should’ve been.

That was then.

Now, I know the difference.

Maybe that’s why I hate the way Deuce looks at me.

Maybe that’s why it hurts so much.

Wolf stays close to me as the other two men walk into the apartment. Their voices start to raise and the name Cobra is spoken repeatedly until I hear the leader of the pack’s voice again. I rack my brain, trying to remember his name but all that comes to me are the words he uttered after he ordered them not to kill me.

Property of Parrish.

“You won’t find anything wrong with her. There was someone taking care of her the whole time,” he says.

“What do you mean, someone took care of her? Who?” the familiar female voice questions.

Another man steps toward me and my eyes automatically zoom in on his patch.

Riggs.

Wolf releases my hand and Riggs gently takes a hold of my bicep as Jack appears in the doorway.

“You’re okay, darlin’,” Wolf reminds me as Jack takes my other hand and urges me through the door.

“Her,” Jack says, presenting me to a room full of strangers as he releases my hand. Nerves take over and the need to flee beckons me. I struggle to pull out of Riggs’ grip as he tightens his hold on me, forcing me to remain still. Anxiety builds and I wish to forget, to disappear into the oblivion that saves me from my truth. I run my nails over the track marks on my arm and lift my head. Immediately my eyes find Stryker and I watch as he wraps his arms around a beautiful woman with the brightest green eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Hello?” a voice calls.

Tearing my eyes away from another heartbreak, I turn to face the familiar voice and find the biggest one of all. There are indelible imprints on our hearts that no matter what villain, whether it's our mind or drugs, nothing ever lets those imprints fade. It’s what forces our hearts to beat through the chaos.

It’s the people who touch us.

The people you don’t forget even if they forgot you.

It’s the people you love.

Shock invades her perfect features as she stares at me. For a moment I wonder if I left an indelible imprint on her heart.

One that wasn’t forgotten.

One that was never lost.

Skylar rushes to her, forcing me to pull my eyes away and look at the sweet girl who in such a short time left another indelible imprint.

“Ally, baby,” Skylar says.

“Oh my God,” her mother whispers.

Bending down, I take the doll from Skylar’s hand and look back at the girl who knew me before the world swallowed me whole.

“It can’t be,” she cries. “Is it you?”

I dreamt of this moment.

I’d block out the torture and let myself drift away to a place where I was reunited with the people who kept my heart beating through the chaos.

The woman staring at me is one of those people.

She’s one of those imprints.

She was my best friend.

The sister I chose, the one God forgot to give me.

“Alexandria?” she whispers.

My eyes fill with tears as I grind my teeth and nervously drop the doll. She takes a step closer, then another until she’s standing in front of me. Her fingers touch my chin and I let out a whimper.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Dreams don’t come true for a girl like me.

“We might not be sisters by blood…” Celeste whispers.

Celeste…the girl I once wished would marry my brother one day and become my real sister.

A wish I made before I was lost.

Before the world forgot me.

Before she forgot me.

Blinking, the tears fall down my cheeks as I stare back into the eyes of a miracle.

“But we’re sisters of the heart,” I rasp.