Sole survivor, p.4
Sole Survivor, page 4
Curious, I pick up the glasses and try them on. Imagine not knowing if I need glasses. I don’t notice any improvement when I slip them on, so I take them off, assuming I just use them so I don’t strain my eyes when reading.
Placing my book next to the glasses, I walk over to the built-in closet and open the doors. It’s a large closet that I’m using less than thirty percent of. I have no idea if it’s because fashion isn’t my thing or if money is an issue.
If I’m not getting paid for the psychic gig, lord only knows what my bank account looks like.
Looking through the hangers, I find an eclectic mix of items, from leggings and hoodies to a beautifully tailored black suit. Most of the items, though, are long and short dresses with a boho feel.
Deciding I need to shower and change out of the scrubs I’m wearing, I grab a flowy ankle-length red dress with cap sleeves and beaded buttons that run the length. It has a v-cut design, but it’s still modest, though that would depend on how many buttons I left undone at both the top and bottom. I place it on the bed before pulling out a vintage-looking cropped brown leather jacket and a pair of brown cowboy boots. I put them with the dress, walk over to the dresser, grab a basic white bra and matching underwear, and head into the bathroom.
I start the shower before stripping out of my clothes. I wanted to do this the second I got home, but I wasn’t comfortable showering with Nathan in the house. Cop or not, I feel too vulnerable right now to take that kind of risk.
Climbing in once the water is hot, I recall the warnings of stranger danger. I don’t think anyone learns what to do in cases like this, though, when everyone’s a stranger.
And if everyone’s a stranger, who can I trust?
Chapter Six
Rue
By the time I’d showered, dressed, and dried my hair, the reporters had come out in full force.
I’d tried to distract myself by exploring the house and searching through all my things, hoping to spark a memory or at least get a feel for what kind of person I was, but nothing did. There’s nothing personal here, and I don’t understand why. Nathan says this is my home, but it can’t be. There is nothing of mine here—no papers such as a birth certificate, driver’s license, insurance papers—nothing. I can’t even find a bill lying around.
The only thing that seemed out of place was the ratty teddy bear I found on the floor beside the bed. He looks like he was once loved a lot, but now, just like me, he looks lost.
I’d like to say it’s the memory loss that makes this place feel so strange, but I have a feeling that even with my memory back, I would never think of this house as my home. So, where is home to me?
Instead of finding answers, I end up with a thousand more questions.
My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten today. I head down to the kitchen and rummage through the cupboards and fridge, which are mostly empty. I’m going to need more than instant hot chocolate and coffee to get me through.
I turn toward the front door when I hear the noise level pick up outside. Sighing, I walk over to the window to see the chaos. Reporters keep coming. Why, I don’t know. I have nothing to say to any of them.
I grab my purse from the coat hook and find my wallet inside. Opening it up, I’m happy to see I have enough cash in there to do some shopping because I can’t remember the PIN number for any of my cards.
I can’t approach the officers outside, not now with so many prying eyes out there, so it looks like I’ll just have to figure this out on my own. Its light out still and will be for a few more hours yet. I’m not reckless enough to go for a moonlit stroll, but at the moment it feels safer to be away from here and all these people that want a piece of me. The walls feel like they are closing in, and I know if I stay cooped up in here, I’m going to have a panic attack. I need is to get out of this house.
On the table is the file Nathan left for me with my basic information. I pull out the page with my address on it and shove it into my jacket pocket. I sling my purse over my shoulder and head for the back door. A couple of coats and a large floppy hat are on a stand next to it. I tuck my hair behind my ears and slip the hat on. The wide brim should obscure my face enough to prevent me from being recognized. If Clark Kent can make glasses work, I can make a hat work for me.
“Ooh, glasses.” I run upstairs, grab the glasses from beside my bed, and put them on. That’ll work.
I head back down to the back door. Unlocking it with the key that’s already in the lock, I open the door slowly as I scope out the area to make sure no reporters have gotten through the backyard fence and are waiting to jump out at me from the bushes. After a few minutes, I figure the coast is clear. I lock up, put the key in my pocket, and make my way to the far end of the yard to the gate.
When I reach it, I see that the gate has a padlock on it, so I pull the keys from my pocket and check to see if the key is there. Sure enough, I find a small key for a padlock. I unlock it and ease myself out. It turns out my yard backs onto a park.
It’s relatively quiet. Nobody pays any attention to me as I follow the path away from my house. I have no idea where I’m going, but anywhere has to be better than there right now. The early evening is warm, a picture-perfect autumn day as the leaves turn from vivid green to warm shades of burned reds and mellow golds.
I’m unsure how far I walk, but I eventually stumble across a grocery store. I take in the people coming and going, and everyone seems to be focused on themselves. That doesn’t stop me from feeling like there are eyes on me. I turn and look behind me, telling myself I’m being paranoid. With everything that’s going on, who wouldn’t be?
Suddenly, being outside doesn’t seem like such a good idea, and I hurry inside and grab a basket. I head up and down the aisles, throwing in the essentials and a few snacks. I don’t want to go crazy, at least until I can figure out what I do and don’t like.
I tense when I get to the register, but the cashier doesn’t even make eye contact with me as she scans my food and tells me the total. She doesn’t even look up when I hand her the cash and wait for my change.
With a small smile on my face, I make my way outside and collide with someone.
“Shit,” a deep voice curses, grabbing my arms as I stumble back and drop my bags. “Are you okay?”
I look up and feel the words dry up in my mouth. Holy fucking shit.
Nathan is a good-looking man, and I own a mirror, so even though I don’t recognize my face, I still know it’s pretty. But this man… This man is something else altogether. If we are all mere mortals, then this man is a god. He’s tall, easily over six-and-a-half feet with broad shoulders, and the expensive black suit he’s wearing does nothing to hide the fact that most of that is made up of muscle. But it’s his face that would make angels weep, with his chiseled jaw and warm chocolate brown eyes with flecks of gold in them. I stand there gawking at him, hoping that I’m not drooling, and he stares back at me before he frowns.
“Rue?”
I jolt at the sound of my name on his lips.
“What’s with the disguise? Fuck, hold on.”
He bends down and picks up my bags.
“You know me?”
He transfers both bags to one hand before using his free one to maneuver me out of the way of the door. “What are you talking about? Of course, I know you. It’s me, Valen. Is this a joke? You didn’t call, and now you’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”
I stare at him for a second before I start laughing. “What’s wrong with me?” I say, laughing harder, doubling over at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Rue,” he snaps, and I stand up, lifting my glasses to wipe away a tear.
“I don’t remember you. I don’t remember me. I don’t remember fuck all.”
His eyes rove over my face. “You’re not making any sense.”
“Where have you been?” I whisper, wondering how he hasn’t heard about what happened.
“I was in Tokyo on business for the last two weeks. You know that. I told you I was going. I got back and thought I’d grab a few things on the way home.”
I lower my head and bite my lip as I take in what he’s saying. It’s possible, I guess.
“Let me walk you to your car, and you can tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t have a car. Or maybe do, and I just don’t know where it is.” I frown at that. Did I drive somewhere the night I was taken? And if so, why was the key not on my keychain?
“Then I’ll drive you home. I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but I’d feel better if you let me take care of you.”
He eases his arm around my waist as he talks, and I don’t realize he’s walking me toward his car until we reach it.
“No.” I come to my senses. This is a bad idea. “I’ll walk. I’m not comfortable getting in the car with you.”
“Rue, I’ve had my tongue in your mouth and my fingers in your pussy. I think you’ll be safe in my fucking car,” he snaps, frustrated, as he unlocks the doors.
I’m so shocked by his words that I don’t put up a fight when he opens the door and guides me inside. Closing the door behind me, he opens the trunk and puts my bags inside before climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Let’s get you home, and you can tell me what’s going on.”
I think of the reporters outside my house and cringe. I’m in a car that looks like it costs more than most people’s houses, with a man who looks like a movie star. If being the sole survivor of a serial killer has whipped them into a frenzy, this will make them turn rabid.
I tug my hat off and slip the glasses from my face, placing them in my lap.
“I can’t go home.”
He looks at me and frowns before turning back to the road. “Then I’ll take you back to my place.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You’ll be safe there. And then we can talk.”
I contemplate his words, knowing I’m being reckless, but there is something comforting about being with someone who remembers me. I was starting to feel invisible, like the whole world forgot I existed, until he came along and seemed genuinely happy to see me. I need that. Need someone to tell me who I am and what I’m like.
“Okay, but just to talk. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone.”
“If that’s what you want, then so be it. There isn’t much I won’t do for you.”
“So, are we a couple?”
“We are.”
“How long have we been together?”
“Dating? A while, but we’ve known each other for a lot longer,” he answers vaguely.
I’m about to press him for more, but hesitate. Asking questions will most likely lead to a dozen more, and I don’t think I have the brain capacity to cope with anything else right now.
I look at him covertly as he drives. He doesn’t seem like the type to date. I’d say he’s much more likely to club women over the head and drag them back to his cave, but what do I know?
I turn toward the window as the city gives way to the country and close my eyes, feeling myself relax, which is crazy if you think about it. I’m in a car with a man I don’t know, heading to what could be a cabin in the woods where he plans to chop me up into tiny pieces. And given that I’m on a serial killer’s most-likely-to-die-next list, my fears would be well founded. But fear is the only thing I’m not feeling. I guess I have no sense of self-preservation, which explains how I ended up in the clutches of a serial killer.
Getting out of the city allows me to breathe freely for the first time in what feels like forever. I didn’t realize just how claustrophobic I was feeling until now. Everyone knows my business, what happened to me, what I look like… It’s only a matter of time before the media twists the narrative from victim to being a woman who made poor choices and got what she deserved. That’s what they do, after all. They’ll sensationalize my story without a second thought so that they can make more money, not caring for one second that they will be victimizing me all over again.
The reporters camping out on my front lawn are just the start. I had hoped to keep a low profile, but they might as well have led the killer straight to my door.
“You’re awfully quiet.”
“I don’t have anything to say. I mean, I do—I have a thousand questions. But I don’t know if I can handle the answers right now. I also won’t know if the answers you give me are lies, so it leaves me in somewhat of a pickle. But you might just be the only person who can tell me who I really am.”
“Or I could be the person who put whatever it is you’re going through into motion,” he finishes, looking over at me quickly before making a left turn. “You really can’t remember anything?”
I look at him.
“The only thing I know for sure is that I’m attracted to you, which adds some credibility to what you said about us dating. But other than that, everything is blank.”
“What the fuck happened to you?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.”
Chapter Seven
Rue
When the car stops outside the place this man calls home, I gulp. Any calm I found on the ride here has disappeared.
“You live here? Alone?”
I watch as he takes in the large house and nods, his jaw tight. “I have staff that live in one of the two guest houses, but otherwise, it’s just me.”
“Why do you need so much space?” I think back to my house. It’s tiny in comparison, and even there, I felt lost. “Don’t you get lonely?” I ask before I think better of it.
He takes my bags from the trunk in one hand before taking my hand with the other and leading me up the pathway. “I like my space. But there’s always someone around when I’m here, which isn’t a lot. I probably spend more time in hotel rooms than I do in any of my properties, though this one is used most.”
“Why this one?”
He lets go of my hand as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. “Because you like the ocean.”
I suck in a sharp breath at his words. “What?” I whisper as he leads me into a kitchen that looks like something you’d find on a magazine cover.
He puts my two grocery bags on the empty top shelf of his fridge before closing it and turning back to me. “I have an apartment in the city I used to stay in when I was in town for business. You happened to be with me when my realtor called and mentioned this property had just come on the market. You came to look at it with me and—”
“And what?” I ask, enthralled. The way he’s looking at me now is making my heart pound. It’s not lust, though. I caught glimpses of that before. It’s something else. Something deeper.
“Baby, I’d buy a thousand properties just to see the look on your face again, the first time you saw the sea. My realtor was telling me about the square footage and the newly installed gym and movie theater, but I couldn’t take my eyes off you as you slipped off your shoes and walked out the back door and down to the water’s edge. It was like you were in a trance and drawn to it.”
I don’t have a clue what to say to him. Zero. Who the hell does that? He told me we were dating, but I thought that meant dinner and the movies. This is on a whole other level.
He walks around the large island until he stands right in front of me. We’re as close as two people can be to each other without touching. I look up at him, my blood heating with anticipation as he dips his head until our breaths mingle together.
“Take a walk outside with me.”
I bite my lip, unsure. What if the reporters followed us?
“It’s a private beach,” he tells me, like he knows what I’m thinking even if he doesn’t understand what’s happening.
“I need to know what’s going on so I can help you.”
I blow out a breath and nod, taking off my hat and glasses.
“Alright, hold on for a second.”
I wait as he tugs off his tie and tosses it on a chair as he leaves the room and returns a few minutes later with a large blanket and a couple of cushions tucked under his arm, a fancy bottle of wine, and two long stemmed glasses between his fingers.
“Follow me, Rue.”
My name sounds strange on his lips, like a foreign language, and answering to it takes more effort than it should.
He swings the door wide and waits for me to pass before following me. A gentle breeze lifts my hair, twirling it around my face as the sound of gulls flying over my head filters down to me. But I can’t tear my eyes away from the beauty before me. The vastness of it makes me feel small, yet somehow, I don’t feel as lost here. I close my eyes and breathe it in. This is exactly what I needed.
“Come lie with me.”
I turn and see that Valen has spread the blanket on the sand and is lying with his head on one of the cushions, the other cushion beside him. Butterflies take flight in my stomach as I try to decide if this is a good idea. In the end, I think fuck it. All I’ve done since I was released from the hospital is make bad decisions. What’s one more?
I sit on the blanket next to him and tuck my dress under my legs so the wind doesn’t catch it and give Valen more of a show than I’m comfortable with. I lie back without looking at him, but my body is hyper-aware of how close we are.
“We used to come out here and lie just like this when the world seemed a little too much.”
This time, I do look at him, the note of sadness in his voice capturing my attention. As if sensing my gaze on him, he turns his head, his eyes clashing with mine. They flicker with so much that’s been left unsaid, but I don’t know him well enough to read between the lines.
“Tell me what happened, Rue.”
I sigh and look back up at the cloudless blue sky.
“I don’t really know.”
“Rue—”
