Page 1
Chapter One
When a kid turnssix, he’s probably waking up in the morning with his heart pounding, wondering if he’ll get that Lego superhero set with the villain included or the monster truck Transformer he begged his parents for. He’ll try to temper his excitement because he’s a big boy now, or so his mom said the night before.
But when I turned six, I didn’t get toys. I didn’t get a smile.
Instead, I became a murderer.
Dark hair spreads like a fan on the hardwood floor. Vacant eyes staring at the ceiling, a dried tear streak marring her cheek. Her key-shaped necklace stained in red.
The image shifts—I’m taller, a full-grown man now, but no less afraid.
Crimson rivers seep out of a bullet wound, the blood quickly staining the pristine blouse. Helpless, frightened eyes snare onto mine, icy fingers gripping my hand as life bleeds out of her.
The two women I’ve failed, and the price was their lives.
Unfortunately for me and my diagnosed HSAM, or highly superior autobiographical memory, I canneverforget.
“No, no, no.” I thump my fist against the one-sided window in Mystique’s back office, which overlooks the writhing bodies partying on the dance floor below.
It’s one of the more popular clubs inside The Orchid, the crème de la crème, exclusive establishment for the rich and famous within my family’s company, Fleur Entertainment Holdings.
The pulsing bass shakes the windowpane, and if this were two years ago, before what happened to Raya, I’d be down there in the crowd, beautiful women draped over my arms, basking in the attention from the loving masses.
But this isn’t two years ago.
My phone rings and I toss four Velowake pills into my mouth before chasing them down with whiskey.
“Anderson. How can I do you for?”
Orgasm on demand? A nice spanking because you’ve been a bad girl? Or maybe some good breath play because you want me to take control away from you?
I swallow a chuckle. Fuck, I’m going out of my mind.
Of course you are.Sane people don’t wake up naked on the balcony, not knowing how they got there.
“It’s me,” a familiar soft voice answers.
I straighten, the smile slipping off my face.
Ava, Raya’s daughter. My mistakes have living victims, and she’s one of them.
“I…I just want to wish you a happy birthday and to tell you it’s not your fault, so don’t blame yourself.”
Her words are a right hook to my liver, and I want to throw up.
Hands trembling, I snatch the bottle of Velowake and toss three more pills into my mouth.
Four won’t cut it today.
“You there?” Ava asks.
“Yeah. I’m here.” My voice is hoarse. “I’ll never forgive myself and neither should you.”
“It’s been two years. It’s those bastards’ fault. They should pay for this, not you.” Her voice rises, then a shaky exhale comes across the line. “Just don’t—”
I endthe call. I can’t do this.
“Fuck!” Why does everyone want to forgive me?“It’s not your fault, Rex.” “It’s shitty luck.” “Don’t borrow guilt that isn’t yours.”Why can’t they let me take responsibility for once?
