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I force myself to get up and go downstairs. I clean up the mess I made and put away the food I took out. I have zero interest in eating. I pour myself the biggest glass of wine, not caring that it’s not even twelve and that I don’t drink. Old me might not drink, but she wasn’t the victim of a serial killer. This version of me will drink a whole fucking bottle if she wants to. I take it outside and walk down to the beach and sit my butt down in the sand.
I stare out at the ocean like I did earlier and remind myself that I’m still here. My world might feel like it’s imploding, but I have to keep fighting. I have to because nine other people weren’t lucky enough to get a second chance.
The wine helps calm my frayed nerves, even if it does make me feel a little queasy on an empty stomach. The cool breeze helps clear my head, giving me the first real moment of clarity I’ve had since I woke up in that hospital bed.
I might not be able to identify the killer,yet, but I was obviously on to something for the killer to strike out against me. I refuse to believe that my being related to a previous patient at Briarwood House would have been enough of a reason to hurt me. If that were true, then there’d be a lot more than ten victims. So no, it has to be that I was getting too close.
I wedge my now-empty glass into the sand beside me and tap my fingers against my knee. I haven’t had any memories come back, but I’ve had two solid visions. Each time, something triggered it. I’m not sure what happened the first time, but this morning, it was the flame from the gas stove. It stands to reason that other things will trigger a vision, and maybe something will spark a memory to come back. I know the doctor said not to force them, but at the moment, I feel like an easy target.
I rub my chin, wondering how I can figure out what triggers the images of the victims to flash in my head.
If I was investigating this killer, along with the police—and I obviously was if I knew about Valen—then I must have kept files or left a paper trail or something in case something happened to me.
I need to find those files. If I was able to figure out who this killer was the first time, then maybe I can do it again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Valen
Iwish I had a better shot of her, but the cameras on the outside of the house only reach so far. Even so, I can see her sitting on the beach, staring aimlessly at the ocean.
I should feel guilty, especially after I saw her collapse on the kitchen floor and then start vomiting. Though I was two seconds away from losing my shit and calling in one of the guards scattered around the perimeter, I know getting her memories back is the first step in her recovery. I watched proudly as she pulled herself together and then stripped out of my shirt and climbed into the shower.
While she broke, I pulled out my cock and fucked my fist, taking in every line and curve of the body I’m so fucking obsessed with. I’m fucked in the head, but knowing that does nothing to stop my deviant behavior. I am who I am.
I spilled cum all over my stomach as she scrubbed her skin. And still, all I could think about was bending her over and thrusting inside, making her scream until her throat was raw.Now I sit here watching her like the creeper I am, trying to figure out my next move.
The phone rings, snapping me out of my thoughts. I pick up without taking my eyes off the screen.
“Ward,” I answer, wondering what’s going on in my woman’s head.
“Mr. Ward, it’s Dr. Jefferies.”
“Dr. Jefferies, what can I do for you?” Jefferies originally started under my father’s thumb. He’s worked here now for over thirty years and heads the research team for Sono-d.
“I hate to say this, but there has been a theft.”
I sit up straighter. “What was taken?”
He hesitates for a moment before answering. “Eight vials of Sono-d.”
I sigh, leaning back, knowing where this is going. “I need to report it. Don’t touch anything you don’t need to, and keep everyone away from the area it was taken from.”
“Yes, sir.”
He hangs up as I log into all the cameras and search the area where we keep our experimental drugs. I scroll through the cameras to the only two that might have caught something and review the feed from the last twenty-four hours. I smile when I see that nothing looks amiss.
I call the cops and fill them in on what’s happened and what’s been taken. My eyes drift back to the screen and Rue’s hair blowing in the wind. The picture looks so enticing, I almost thinkfuck itand leave so I can join her, but that would end up with the police coming to my house.
I sigh, knowing that I’m going to be later than I hoped. I text her, though I can see she’s left her phone on the bed. I’m sure she’ll check it at some point. While I’m at it, I place an order with a local deli to have some food delivered to Rue for lunch. She hasn’t eaten, and I don’t want her to go hungry.
I let the guards know that food would be arriving soon and then shut down the camera feed. It wouldn’t do me any good to be watching her when Hask gets here, and he will. He can’t help himself.
It’s maybe forty minutes later when he arrives, and Fauna’s frustrated voice announces that he’s here. Though this is the last thing I want to be doing, it still makes me chuckle. He walks into my office with another man, who is dressed in a cheap suit and a crooked tie. The badge on the man’s belt shows him to be yet another fed. I watch his eyes move around my office, taking everything in. Not Hask, though. He heads straight for me.
“Looks like a trip to the station might be in order.”
“I figured you’d say that.” I stand and button my jacket. “I’ll call my lawyer on the way.”
