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Nathan is a good-looking man, and I own a mirror, so even though I don’t recognize my face, I still know it’s pretty. But this man… This man is something else altogether. If we are all mere mortals, then this man is a god. He’s tall, easily over six-and-a-half feet with broad shoulders, and the expensive black suit he’s wearing does nothing to hide the fact that most of that is made up of muscle. But it’s his face that would make angels weep, with his chiseled jaw and warm chocolate brown eyes with flecks of gold in them. I stand there gawking at him, hoping that I’m not drooling, and he stares back at me before he frowns.
“Rue?”
I jolt at the sound of my name on his lips.
“What’s with the disguise? Fuck, hold on.”
He bends down and picks up my bags.
“You know me?”
He transfers both bags to one hand before using his free one to maneuver me out of the way of the door. “What are you talking about? Of course, I know you. It’s me, Valen. Is this a joke? You didn’t call, and now you’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”
I stare at him for a second before I start laughing. “What’s wrong with me?” I say, laughing harder, doubling over at the ridiculousness of it all.
“Rue,” he snaps, and I stand up, lifting my glasses to wipe away a tear.
“I don’t remember you. I don’t remember me. I don’t remember fuck all.”
His eyes rove over my face. “You’re not making any sense.”
“Where have you been?” I whisper, wondering how he hasn’t heard about what happened.
“I was in Tokyo on business for the last two weeks. You know that. I told you I was going. I got back and thought I’d grab a few things on the way home.”
I lower my head and bite my lip as I take in what he’s saying. It’s possible, I guess.
“Let me walk you to your car, and you can tell me what’s going on.”
“I don’t have a car. Or maybe do, and I just don’t know where it is.” I frown at that. Did I drive somewhere the night I was taken? And if so, why was the key not on my keychain?
“Then I’ll drive you home. I’m not sure what’s going on with you, but I’d feel better if you let me take care of you.”
He eases his arm around my waist as he talks, and I don’t realize he’s walking me toward his car until we reach it.
“No.” I come to my senses. This is a bad idea. “I’ll walk. I’m not comfortable getting in the car with you.”
“Rue, I’ve had my tongue in your mouth and my fingers in your pussy. I think you’ll be safe in my fucking car,” he snaps, frustrated, as he unlocks the doors.
I’m so shocked by his words that I don’t put up a fight when he opens the door and guides me inside. Closing the door behind me, he opens the trunk and puts my bags inside before climbing into the driver’s seat.
“Let’s get you home, and you can tell me what’s going on.”
I think of the reporters outside my house and cringe. I’m in a car that looks like it costs more than most people’s houses, with a man who looks like a movie star. If being the sole survivor of a serial killer has whipped them into a frenzy, this will make them turn rabid.
I tug my hat off and slip the glasses from my face, placing them in my lap.
“I can’t go home.”
He looks at me and frowns before turning back to the road. “Then I’ll take you back to my place.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“You’ll be safe there. And then we can talk.”
I contemplate his words, knowing I’m being reckless, but there is something comforting about being with someone who remembers me. I was starting to feel invisible, like the whole world forgot I existed, until he came along and seemed genuinely happy to see me. I need that. Need someone to tell me who I am and what I’m like.
“Okay, but just to talk. A lot has happened since you’ve been gone.”
