Page 18 of When Hearts Awaken

Staring at the furious man whose blistering stare is rendering me immobile, I mutter, “I…I’m…I’m sorry. Please…Please don’t…”

I can’t get the words out. A heavy sense of shame washes over me—why am I apologizing? He grabbed me first—he didn’t let me leave.

He didn’t know you had a flashback because Sir Ian reminded you of the monster, the man you don’t really remember because your mind was too drugged up that night.

I finally notice the notes of cedarwood and bergamot in the air—his scent—and I realize how close we’re standing. I quickly stagger back a few steps.

“Youwillapologize to my uncle as well,” he commands in that deep, raspy voice. Goosebumps flicker to life on my arms.

His uncle.This intimidating asshole is Sir Ian’s nephew. I feel lightheaded as I sneak a glance over at the man himself, an involuntary tremor of fear rushing through my body.

I shake myself—I’m going insane. It can’t be him. I don’t even remember what he looks like, right? But still, my mind is fighting the apology at the tip of my tongue. I shake my head. I can’t apologize to him when fear is all I’m feeling whenever I look at him.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t.”

Charles recoils at my words, his eyes darkening. A muscle twitches in his jaw.

“Charles—” Sir Ian says, but the looming god in front of me holds up his hand.

“This is unacceptable,” Charles grits out, his eyes pinned on me.

Someone tugs on my shoulder. A reassuring scent of lavender. Lisa, the voice of reason, trying to save me yet again.

She rises to her tiptoes and whispers in my ear, “Whatever it is, it isn’t worth your career. Everything you’ve worked for! They’re going to fire you! You hit our sponsor in the face!”

Her words are like a fire extinguisher to the fiery rage incinerating my body and what remains is bone-deep fear.

Everything I’ve worked for. My sacrifices. Grace and Mom’s sacrifices.

My gaze becomes unfocused and nausea comes roaring back in full force.

I can’t breathe. Lisa is right. Just apologize and get out of here, Taylor.Sweat gathers on my forehead. I stare in Sir Ian’s direction, not meeting him in the eye. “I-I’m s-sorry, sir.”

The room breathes a collective sigh of relief, as if we’ve averted a crisis, but I don’t feel any relief at all. My fingers tingle. My skin itches. I want to claw myself. I want the pain, tons of it.

I can’t breathe.My lungs rattle from exertion.I can’t breathe.

I need to go home. I need to—

“Look, young lady. Obviously, there’s been some misunderstanding. We’ve all made mistakes before and I don’t fault you for it,” Sir Ian begins, his voice still sending shivers down my spine.

I shrink further into my mind.

Lisa clutches my shoulder tightly and I’m never more grateful for her presence than now.

“But I really haven’t met you before. I’m not sure what’s going on, but whatever it is, you’re mistaken.”

Unshed tears blur my vision as I grip my wrist, trying to stem the shudders from showing.

I won’t cry for him. For them.

Glancing up, I finally take in Sir Ian’s concerned face. His blue eyes are crinkled as if he’s sincerely concerned by this turn of events. Charles stands slightly in front of him, his arms crossed—a formidable sentry—like he’s afraid I’m going to finish what I started and he’ll protect his uncle with his life.

Sir Ian smiles softly. “I don’t want my career here to begin on a bad note. Let’s start over, shall we? I’ll forget about this if you can. And I’m sure Charles will forgive and forget too.” He looks at his nephew.

My heart hammers inside my chest. I stare at those blue eyes again. Clear. Innocent eyes. Could I’ve been mistaken? After all, I was drugged.Were his eyes really blue? Wasn’t it dark, Taylor? You couldn’t even describe him to a sketch artist.

Doubts rain in my mind.

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