Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 23750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 119(@200wpm)___ 95(@250wpm)___ 79(@300wpm)
“Thanks.” I pick up the cup and take a big gulp.
“How is she? Do I need to get her anything?”
I shake my head. “She’s still sleeping. I’ll let you know if she needs anything.” For some reason I don’t want her going up there. I want everyone to stay away from her. If she needs something, I want to be the one to get it for her. Be the first one she sees when she wakes again. A sliver of fears runs down my spine that she might be scared of me when she gets a look at my face. I shake the thought away. There is nothing I can do about it. My face is it what it is, but still I don’t care for the idea of her fearing me.
Marta nods and leaves the room. I unzip the backpack and dump the contents out onto my desk. Clothes slip out. I pick up a blouse and bring it to my nose. The sugar sweet honey smell is there. The top is nice. I can tell from the feel of it. All of the clothes are, too. Even the backpack is a designer one. She comes from money. I’d know. I do, too.
Digging to the bottom, I finally see something that might help. “Fucking hell,” I bark when I see it's a high school ID with her picture on it. My gut clenches as I hit the mouse on the computer and type in her name and school.
I drop back in my seat when I see she graduated a few years ago, likely putting her around twenty. I pause when a picture pops up of her with a man who looks familiar. I rack my brain, but nothing comes.
“Lucy.” Her name rolls easily off my tongue. It’s pretty. Soft. Like her. I grab her things and put them back into her bag then head upstairs. I stop when I get to the top when I realize I haven't checked into my emails for work or anything. It will wait.
When I open the door, I see she’s still asleep. I grab the note I left and throw it away before going into my closet and putting her clothes up. When I walk out of the closet I freeze when I see her sitting up in bed.
She turns to look at me, her dark wavy hair falling all around her. She stares at me and I wait for her to scream, but she doesn't. She cocks her head to the side, studying me.
“Who are you?” she asks. Her voice is soft. I take a few steps closer to her, and her eyes roam over my body. I’m not a small man by any means. Exercise is the only way I clear out my head and extra energy. Add in the scars and I’m surprised she’s not screaming, but she still looks a little bit cautious.
“I’m Orlando,” I tell her, trying to make my deep voice soft for her. I don’t want to spook her. She nods. Then she’s the one to scare me.
“Who am I?”
Chapter Four
Lucy
I stare at the man standing next to the bed. He looks familiar, but I can’t fully place him. A trace of fear runs through me as I rack my brain for my name, but nothing comes.
“Lucy.” He reaches out, touching my cheek. I lean into his touch. A memory of lying on his chest flashes through my mind. Him holding me close while I’m wrapped around him as tightly as possible. Lucy. That's my name. The name doesn't sound familiar, but he does.
“Are you my husband?” I ask. My very handsome husband. He has to be if my memory is real. My cheeks burn at the question. His thumb stills on my cheek. “I’m scared. I can’t remember anything. But I remember you holding me close in the night. You’re my husband,” I push, willing it to be true.
He nods. I relax. “You said you’d keep me safe.” I recall another memory flitting though my mind.
“I will,” he vows, sitting down on the bed next to me. His big body fills all the space next to me. It’s oddly comforting.
“What happened to me?” I ask. When loud thunder cracks, I scream and launch myself at Orlando. He catches me easily and I curl into his lap, burying my face in his neck.
“It’s okay, little one. It’s just the storm. It’s going to be like this for a while. I promise you’re safe here.” He rubs his hand up and down my back. I don’t know why fear gripped me so hard at the sound of the thunder. But it had.
I relax into him as he continues to rub my back soothingly. “You wrecked your car by driving it into the front gate. Banged your head pretty good,” he finally tells me. I try to remember, but nothing comes.