Page 79 of Amnesty

“If I was stronger, I’d let you go,” she murmured as she dragged her finger over the fabric of my shirt. We were in bed, but after everything, I’d kept on my clothes. It seemed like the right thing to do. The honorable thing.

“What?” I said, my chest seizing. Lifting my head, I gaze down at her, shocked by that response.

“I would,” she said again.

Slipping my hands under her arms, I lifted her torso so she was slightly above me. Her hair fell around her face and jaw, shading her slightly, but I was still able to stare into her eyes.

“Why would you say something like that?”

Her lower lip wobbled, and for several moments, I stopped breathing.

“I’m such a mess,” she confessed. “And now you are, too. You’re too good for a mess, Eddie. You deserve so much more.”

“Look at me,” I demanded. Her eyes lifted. “Don’t say that ever again. If you’re a mess, then I’m a pig who revels in mud. You belong here with me. In my arms. No matter what. Even if you let go, I’ll still hold on. You hear me?”

“But—”

“No buts.” I cut in.

“You don’t understand.” She reached out, trying to cuddle close.

I relented, letting her press near. Her hand clutched my shirt.

“Being with me puts you in danger. But I’m not strong, Eddie. I’m weak. I need you.”

“I’m here,” I murmured. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.” Her voice cracked, and I was terrified she’d start crying again. “He’s going to come for us,” she added, a strange tone in her words.

I stilled. “What?”

“Him.”Amnesia warned. “Sadie was right. He’s going to be so angry with me. For leaving. For my hair. For loving you.”

“Don’t you worry about him,” I said, heat in my voice. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” she replied. “It’s you. He’s going to want you dead.”

I shushed her gently and began pulling my fingers through her thick hair. I knew she was right. I also knew we were dealing with a man with no conscience. A monster.

Thing was I wasn’t as concerned as maybe I should have been.

He’s going to want you dead.

Yeah, well, the feeling was mutual.

One foot in front of the other. One breath at a time.

One kiss at a time.

That’s how I was going to take this.

My life felt altered. Irrevocably so.

The bits and pieces of memories I had were upsetting. But yesterday. That had been near devastating. Those bits and pieces came together, revealing a bigger picture. A horror picture no fully sane person could ever paint.

I knew my name now—well, my first name.

It wasn’t my name, though. It was the name of the girl who lived before me. The girl who lived and ultimately died at the hand of a madman.

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