Page 4 of When Hearts Remember

I whistle and force out a chuckle. “Damn. I should go to Vegas instead, huh? Probably will win a jackpot. The great Elias Kent calling me a friend. Aren’t you worried your enemies will think that’s a weakness?”

He snorts. “Leave the jackpot to people who need it. I know you, Ethan. Don’t hide shit from me. You’re a man of routine—five a.m. swimming laps, work fourteen hours crunching your fucking numbers at Fleur, eating boring turkey clubs for meals, rinse and repeat.”

He sighs and continues, “You have one trip a year and you already went somewhere last month. You don’t just up and leave the fucking country for no reason. And somewhere as remote as Tibet. Don’t bullshit me. What’s going on?”

“If I didn’t know your compulsion to collect the secrets of everyone around you, I’d think you have a crush on me. Fuck off. I’m fine. Can’t a man have a break?”

“Abreakin Tibet? You know tourists have altitude sickness there? Not exactly a walk in the park.”

My phone pings, and I glance at the screen.

Liam sweeping in to save the day.

Thank God or else Elias will ferret my secrets out of me. The relentless asshole.

“I have to go. Urgent incoming call.”

“Don’t you dare—”

Ignoring him, I switch to the other line. “Liam?”

Heavy exhales reach my ear and I sit up, my muscles coiled tightly. “Liam? What’s wrong?”

“Fuck, man.” More ragged breaths. A thick silence.

Sweat beads on my upper lip, and the beginnings of nausea swirl inside me. Liam is the devil-may-care, nothing can faze me rebel.

Something is wrong. Something—

No. Lexy.

“What happened? Is it Lexy?”

My heart batters against my rib cage. I’m lightheaded, an urge to throw up soon to follow.

“Ethan…she…she’s awake.”

My phone clatters to the floor.

Chapter 2

I remember little fromthe next hour. Everything is in fragments. Still frames.

Me telling the crew to cancel the flight. Staff hollering I can’t just hop off a jet and sprint across the tarmac because it was dangerous.

The violent wind whipping across my face, followed by my phone buzzing in my pocket as I stood on the ground disoriented, realizing I didn’t know where I was going.

And finally now, sitting in a helicopter, my mind in a daze as we head to Manhattan Memorial Hospital. My fingers shake as I scroll through my phone, needing to do something before I spiral into madness.

She’s awake. Lexy is awake. It’s been eight years.

She’s awake.

The refrain repeats in my mind and I don’t know whether to cry, to laugh, or to bang my head against the wall to see if I’m dreaming.

I sift through my emails flagging urgent items from Trey Spencer, my mentor, right-hand man, and VP of Finance all rolled into one, who’s investigating suspicious cash flow anomalies the auditors found last quarter. There have been strange outflows to familiar-looking vendors, which upon closer examination aren’t legitimate.

Something sinister is going on, and my gut is never wrong.

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