At least my imagination excelled. It would be the one place I could escape to when my future in slavery became too much.

“Wait.” Kill’s voice rang out.

Grasshopper stopped, his fingers tightening on my elbow to stop me, too.

I didn’t turn around but my back prickled as Kill moved toward us.

“Forget something?” Grasshopper asked.

My ears strained for Kill’s reply, even now wishing upon wishes that he had made a mistake and finally realized it.

“I’ll take her.”

What?

God, no. Please. I couldn’t have him take me away and deliver me to someone else. It would be the epitome of callousness. He’d already daggered my heart, he didn’t need to keep twisting it.

Grasshopper let me go, stepping aside as Kill took his place. “Are you sure? I mean—”

“I’m sure. I need to see with my own eyes that she’s gone.”

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My nerve endings sprang to life the moment his fingers wrapped around my wrist.

Grasshopper huffed. “You don’t trust me to do it?”

Kill growled. “Yes, I trust you. But I need to do this. I need to know that I’ll never suffer again.”

Suffer?

What a heartless bitch he made me sound. I’d meant to heal his brokenness, not make it worse. I’d offered my love, my kindness and friendship—how did he think my goal was to make him hurt?

“I get that,” Grasshopper said. “I’ll call ahead and let the buyer know you’re the one coming.”

“Good. Thanks.”

Awkwardness settled and Kill’s fingers tightened around my wrist.

“Okay, Sarah. Guess this is good-bye.” Grasshopper’s voice reluctantly tugged me from my sad stupor.

I swallowed, keeping my head down and eyes averted. “Thanks. For trying, at least.”

Kill flinched. I hoped he heard the reprimand in my voice directed at him—for his lack of belief or decency of just listening to me.

Kill dragged me forward without another word.

Past the last magazine cover.

Past where I’d stood and stripped for him.

Through the compound and into the garage.

Cleo.

Her name was Cleo. It sounded right… but wrong.

Could I have remembered the wrong name?

Could all of this be undone if I just had more time to untangle my memories?

“Please, Kill. Don’t do this,” I whispered as he dragged me toward a black SUV.

Kill gritted his jaw but didn’t reply. His hand stayed latched around my wrist, his legs chewing up the floor as if he wanted to break into a sprint and run far away from me.

My heart stuttered at the hate reverberating from him. I didn’t fight—there was no point. But I wished he would just stop for one moment. Just stop and…

What? Expose himself from years’ worth of denial and put himself in a place of agony to try and believe? Something like that would take more strength than anything, and as much as I hated it, I could understand his reluctance.

It was easier to continue living a lie than deal with the consequences of what it would mean if I were Cleo. So many questions would then exist… How were we separated? Why did he think he killed me? What really happened all those years ago?

I reached out, wrapping my fingers around his arm where he held me. He didn’t stop or look down.

“I’m sorry, Arthur. I’m sorry for the pain you’re going through. I’m sorry to make you confront things you obviously aren’t able to. But please don’t do this. Let me go. Release me. I’ll never come back and you’ll never have to see me again, but please. Please don’t sell me.”

“Don’t use my name.” He tugged me faster, reaching the black 4WD and opening the back door.

My heart winged frantically. “You have to know I didn’t mean to hurt you! It’s all true inside my mind. Everything I feel for you—everything that happened, it’s all real.”

How is it real?

Did my mind steal someone else’s memories or was everything a story—told to keep myself from going insane with no past?

Kill refused to make eye contact. Grabbing me around my bronze-encased waist, he threw me onto the backseat of the car.

My teeth rattled as he punched the door closed, shaking the entire vehicle.

Two seconds later, he climbed behind the steering wheel and pressed the garage door opener.

Twisting the key in the ignition, the engine started with a growl, then slid seamlessly into gear and exploded from standstill to motion.

“Ah!” I slid wildly on the pristine tan leather as he floored the acceleration, shooting from the garage and into Florida sunshine. He drove like a damn lunatic, taking corners too fast, making the wheels squeal.

My stomach crashed against my insides. Nausea made me sweat as I fumbled for a seat belt.

Did he not care at all?

He’s such an… ass. An uncommunicative ass who doesn’t want to face the truth.

“Kill—”

He swiped his hand through his hair, pressing harder on the gas. “Don’t.”

I hugged my chest, slip-sliding even with the seat belt tight as he careened around a corner. “Please… you have to listen to me. I didn’t do it to hurt you! I honestly believe I know you. I can’t explain it—”

“You don’t need to explain it. You’re done here. You succeeded in seeing me again and you’ve made it worse for yourself.”




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