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He straightens a little but keeps hold of my hand. “Of course. Shoot.”
A self-conscious smile comes and goes. “God, this feels so impersonal.”
“It’s fine.”
“So, what’s your surname? Let’s start there.”
“De Vries.”
A shiver runs through me. Ther—it sounds different. I repeat what I think I heard in my head.Defreece. Defreese. “Is that D-Dutch?”
A nod.
I fall inside my head for a moment, trying to ignore the symmetry to my abduction in the Netherlands.
“And you have a sister. Are you close?”
“Very. She’s the youngest. I have an older brother in Canada. We’re all adopted.”
“Oh, wow. Your parents must be good people.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Well, I think so. They always made us feel so wanted. Cherished. I like to think I’ve inherited that from them.” He smiles shyly. “What else can I tell you? Um, Mum’s Canadian, Dad’s Dutch, but I mostly lived in Hertfordshire, going to school there.”
With each new piece of information, my knowledge of Max growing, I feel myself relax even further. “What do you do for work? What are you so unproductive about these days?”
His laugh can only be described as sad amusement. “Good point,” he says, looking down at my hand. “Well, I design jewellery.”
For a minute, I wonder if he’s hiding from me because he’s embarrassed by his profession, but I love the idea of him being creative and good with his hands. “Really? That must be fun.”
He shakes his head a little, amused. “It is.” He stops fiddling with my knuckles and fingers to ask, “What do you want to happen here?”
“I like the way this is going,” I say. “I like you.”
“Yeah?” he asks.
I smile ruefully. “That’s a new thing for me. To feel a connection with a man.” I inhale deeply. “To feel comfortable around him. Talking to you is easy,” I say before offering, “Do you want to ask me anything? You must have a lot of questions.”
“Are you sure you feel up to talking about it?”
I nod, knowing this is fair. Knowing this is important, even if I’m second-guessing my generosity.
“Just tell me what you want to. What you can.”
Leaning into his side, I start at the beginning. “In October, I was at a scientific conference in Amsterdam. My boyfriend, Jonas, was there too, alongside a few others from my research lab. We went out one night and I didn’t come back for eight days, and I don’t remember what happened to me during that time.
“What I do remember is that Jonas and I were kissing outside the rear door of this club we were at. Three men approached and injected us with a drug. It was so quick and I passed out. Despite passing out too, Jonas was beaten up badly. When he came around I was gone. He alerted the police, my sister, my work, and a police hunt followed. All I remember is walking into a hotel a week later and asking for the police.
“They found drugs in my system, evidence of sexual assault,” I state, my voice shaking. “Of physical violence. To this day, I’m trying to piece together what happened to me.”
Max’s eyes are shadowed when I look up at him. “I’m sorry. And you don’t recallanything?”
I shake my head, then remember something. “Very recently, I’ve gotten a bad headache, as if my memories are trying to break free.” I laugh sadly. “That’s what it feels like to me anyway.”
“What brought the headache on?”
I hesitate, because suddenly, I’m unsure whether it was down to Ben’s scary eyes, or because I was alone with Max. “I don’t know,’ I tell him. “Something about being around men again, I guess.”
His hand comes out to hold mine, squeezing it in comfort.
