Page 2 of Stolen Love

Perhaps this is how it should end. With my life the price of Rogue’s freedom. Perhaps we are like Romeo and Juliet. Star-crossed and ill-fated. Destined to only end in pain.

“I’m sorry, my sunshine.” West’s voice is gruff. “It’s out of our control.”

“You said you could fix her,” Dizzy cries.

“I said I would try.” West sighs. “Now, get up. We’re leaving.”

“Ivy!” Dizzy’s scream is punctuated by a bang that seems to echo long into the silence that follows.

Darkness, peace… the pool laps at my mind, promising relief.

“Come on, little rabbit, it’s time to turn those snow white paws pink.” Dizzy is back, her voice in my ear again, crooning softly as I drift out of the darkness. “There is so much that needs to be done. And you’re almost out of time.”

“Wake up, Love. Time to get out of bed,” Adira calls out as he yanks back the heavy drapes on the floor to ceiling windows and what has always been a dizzying view of the city streets below.

I sit up on a gasp. Adrenaline spikes through my body; my pulse is racing. Dizzy’s voice fades into nothing. My arms are clean and unmarred by blood, although I still wear a cast on one wrist. On the other a long red scar is yet to fade.

My heart slows its flutter as I take in the familiar layout of the bedroom I share with Rogue. Feel the soft and silky charcoal sheets against my skin. Smell Rogue’s cologne and the spice of his skin in the plump pillows, along with my own sugar cookie conditioner and the blackberry and jasmine of my favorite perfume.

The black pool recedes into a blur of a memory.

But not a memory that I lost when I almost died. Just a dream that seemed far too real. Especially when I could have sworn that I never actually made it home last night. I met up with Dizzy.

Didn’t I?

I could have sworn I did. She introduced me to her brother, West. He was going to help me remember what Alec did to me the night I almost died.

I signed a contract in the limo. We went to Adira’s apartment… to where it happened… to try and recover my memories. I didn’t come home. Or at least… I burrow my fingers into sheets that are so very real… I didn’t think I did.

I reach for my phone and glasses on the nightstand. Dizzy and I messaged last night. I know we did. Sliding the frames up over my nose, I light up my phone and pull up my text chain with Dizzy.

Dizzy: I saw on the news that Rogue has been arrested. Are you okay?

What? Is that it? I didn’t respond back? I was certain… I toss back the heavy covers and narrow my gaze on the blue cotton shorts and white tank I’m wearing. Pajamas? I thought I fell asleep in my wedding dress. “How did I get to bed last night?”

Adira purses his lips as he stares at me. “Uh, the same way you do every night, I suspect.”

“Did we…” He mirrors my head tilt while I tug on a loose tendril of my hair. “What did we do after they arrested Rogue?”

“Panicked mostly.” Adira wraps a hand around the base of his throat as he turns away from the window. “Rebel and Summer went to the police station to meet up with the lawyer. And we spent hours trying to locate Marty. You were so upset you ended up throwing up and Riot sat with you until you decided to get in your pajamas and go to sleep.”

“We didn’t…” I glance around for any sign that I did actually leave the apartment last night, but there’s nothing. “Go anywhere?”

“We were here the whole night,” he says.

“Right.” I shake my head. A headache starts behind my eyes and I cradle my brow in my hand. “It must have been a dream. It felt so real.”

But it isn’t. Of course it isn’t. There is no bringing my lost memories to the surface. No contract with a dangerous man that looks like he should be a long-lost Maddox sibling. If I am meant to recover my memories from before that night they’ll come in their own time. Like the doctor said. Not with some illegal experimentation.

Something a lot like relief floods me. That would have been a dumb decision on my part.

Adira drinks from the mug gripped in his hand. He looks like he’s been awake for hours and is probably pepped up on coffee. Dark shadows under his eyes and more noticeable wrinkles around them suggest he didn’t sleep well as he leans against the thick glass pane. “What was a dream?”

“It’s unimportant.” The fact that he didn’t sleep isn’t surprising. We’re all worried. I don’t know how I did sleep. Only I’ve been sick for weeks. Barely managing to keep anything down. Listless. Exhausted. That coupled with stress… it’s no wonder I’m having a mental breakdown in my sleep. “What time is it?”

“Ten.”

I jump out of bed. Rogue is sitting in some dank holding cell and I’m sleeping in? My legs are shaky and leaden and my head spins a little when I straighten. It takes me a moment to catch my breath. “How could you let me sleep so long?”

---