The Novel Free

Ruin & Rule





Arthur suddenly grabbed my shoulders. He shook me, forcing my eyes to meet his. “Don’t believe a word of bullshit he said. You mean every-goddamn-thing to me. Never doubt that. Ever.”

I smiled. “I know that. Now. But you were dense, Art. You were so wrapped up in your misery that even the truth wasn’t registering. On some level you believed me, yet you kept pushing me away and treating me…”

Arthur closed his eyes, agony etching his face. He pressed a fierce kiss on my forehead. “I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. I’ll tell you every damn day for the rest of our lives. I’ll make it up to you—I promise.”

I shook my head. “I don’t need apologies. I hurt you more than I can bear by forgetting everything we had. I still don’t understand how my mind deleted something so fundamental—we both have faults. But there are a lot of things we need to talk about. I need to know—”

“I know all that!” Rage colored his face. “I know we need to talk, but goddammit, Cleo. Give it a rest.”

I froze at his sudden anger. What the hell had made him snap? “Art, what’s gotten into you? You can’t explode like that without—”

His hand swiped up, cutting me off midword. “For God’s sake, just wait, Cleo. Just once in your life, be patient.”

“I am patient!”

He scowled, stealing my wrist. “You’re never patient. But I’m fucking begging you. Let me tell you my way.” His face fell, unsuccessfully hiding his terror beneath his blustering anger. “Don’t force me to say something I don’t have the courage to. Not yet.”

My heart broke. I had no reply other than wanting to kiss him senseless and heal the tattered pain in his soul.

Without another word, he pulled me around his bike and into the undergrowth. Leaves and twigs reached out with sticky fingers, scratching over leather and bare legs.

I couldn’t stop repeating his grumbling remark about my patience. I was a saint when it came to waiting for answers. Unable to stop myself, I muttered, “Once in my life I should be patient? I think the last eight years I’ve shown I have a high tolerance of the word.”

He turned on me, his nostrils flaring in anger. “And I haven’t? I didn’t have to spend the last eight years loving a ghost only to find out you’ve been alive all this time, living it up with people who cared for you, happily building a new life without me?”

Shit.

“That was low of me, Art. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant—”

“Fuck, this is all kinds of screwed up. What the hell am I doing?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, grabbing hold of his temper and swallowing it back. “I know you didn’t. It’s just so fucking hard to know you’ve been alive all this time while I thought you were dead. If anyone deserves the award for not losing their mind and being patient, it’s me.”

He slammed a fist against his chest. “You don’t seem to get it…” Looking away, he laughed morbidly. “And why would you—you have no idea what happened while you were gone. But take my word for it—I’ve been planning this for a very long fucking time. I could’ve had my revenge years ago. I could’ve just gone in there and murdered the son of a bitch in his sleep and not cared if they killed me in the process. But Wallstreet—”

That asshole again.

“Wallstreet? What does he have to do with this?”

Arthur smiled sadly. “Everything. He has everything to do with this. And you’ll see why if you just follow me and let me show you.”

How had this turned into an argument? Just being back here—wherever we were—made me irritable and uncomfortable. I wanted to leave. The sooner this was over, the sooner that would happen.

Forcing myself to let go of everything, I murmured, “Show me. I want to see.”

His shoulders slumped. “I know this will be hard in some ways. To recognize this place but not remember.”

It was my turn to smile sadly. “It’s no harder than recognizing you and not recalling our life together.”

He swallowed, his powerful neck clenching with the effort. “You have no idea how true that is.” Shadows swarmed his eyes. “I’m not going to deny that I’m struggling. I’m struggling with every damn memory we ever made together, knowing you don’t remember.” He sighed, looking away. “It’s like I’ve had every wish come true, only to find out that part of what made us so special has disappeared.”

My head ached with the pressure of his pain.

I couldn’t reply.

Silently, he took my hand, looped his fingers with mine, and guided me through the undergrowth.

We didn’t go far off the road before Art darted behind a tree and pressed me against the bark. His heart thundered against mine as he slapped a hand over my mouth.

“Quiet,” he hissed into my ear. My back locked as I listened for what had spooked him.

Only the gentle whistle through the leaves and the soft hum of insects.

My own heart matched his in rhythm, nervousness once again thickening my blood.

A minute ticked past before Arthur let me go, his warm hand falling from my lips. “Sorry, thought I heard something.” His eyes fell to my mouth, hips pressing harder. “However, this position does have some advantages.”

My lips twitched as his head bowed, his lips brushing ever so gently over mine.

I moaned slightly as his hardening erection nudged my lower belly.
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