Page 95 of Cherry Auction

I cradle my hands to her cheek so her darting eyes will settle in on mine, our gazes locking. Again, I’ve broken through the haze to see my girl. “I swear I’ll get back to you as fast as I can. I love you. He’s dead now. He can never hurt us again. But I have to get rid of his body and I need you nowhere fucking near any crime zone, you get me? You’re never to be near any darkness again.”

“But Donny,” she whispers, “I killed him,” looking down at her hands. There’s still blood caught in her cuticles.

“Says what evidence?” I demand. “It’ll be clean as a whistle in here and what can anyone do if they can’t even find the body of a man they never even knewexisted?”

Moira’s wandered back our way, likely sent by Quinn. “What about the body in the cockpit?” she asks. She looks almost as shellshocked as Brooke, but I can’t deal with my sister right now. There will be time for her later.

“Not after tonight, there won’t be,” Isaak says, stepping in front of me. “Time to go, everyone. Plane’s fueled up, but we have to go now if we still want to catch the flight time they booked so nothing looks amiss.”

“Fuck,” I swear. I have to go even though I can’t stand leaving Brooke behind. Isaak can fly the plane, but I’m the only one who will have enough clout with customs to make any of this possible.

“Moira,” I call, but my sister’s just staring at the ground. “Moira,” I demand more sharply, clapping my hands to snap her out of it. She finally looks up at me. “I need you to be solid right now, you hear me?”

She nods. “I am.”

“Take Brooke back to my house. Can you do that for me?”

She nods.

“Swear to me you can do it.”

“I swear. I won’t let you down, Domhn.” Moira’s eyes are wide, and she’s got her hands clenched together, but I’ve got no choice but to trust her.

“Good.” I turn to Brooke, cradling her face in my hands again. “Tell me you’ll wait for me at the house. I’ll be back in a day. Two at most.”

She nods and throws her arms around me.

“I love you,” I tell her again, just like I’ll tell her every day for the rest of our lives.

…

…

…

But I’m not back in two days. Or even three. Not even a week.

And by the time I do walk back in the door of my mansion and up to the room where they’re keeping Brooke, it’s too fucking late.

FORTY

MADISON/BROOKE/MATILDA/?

I wakeup from the lurking, non-stop nightmare, still screaming as I sit up violently in bed.

I’m in a bright yellow room with a big bay window and blue streaming in from the sky beyond. There are even clouds. But I don’t recognize the room, or anything around me.

“Where the hell am I?” I ask, scooting to the opposite side of the bed as an intimidatingly large man stands over my bedside. He’s young, maybe in his early thirties, and his thick-framed glasses make him look nice. Approachable. But I know better than most that a pretty package can hide combustible sins.

“You’re in Domhnall Callaghan’s house, in your own separate wing. He is not here.”

I can’t tell if that last bit made my heart speed up or slow down.

“I’m glad to meet you,” he says. “I’m Dr. Nathan Ezra. Professor Roberts referred you to me. I understand you’ve been dealing with some amnesia of late. We finally know your identity. You are Matilda Sheffield?—”

He stops speaking when my head starts vehemently shaking back and forth.

“You aren’t Matilda Sheffield?” he asks.

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