Page 57

“What?”
“Taylor, listen—I don’t know every detail of what happened, but you vanished off the face of the earth about a year and a half ago. I’ve been searching everywhere with his help.”
“Whose help?”
“The man who gave you the phone.”
“He has a name?”
“Yes, but I can’t tell you. It’s complicated, but I swear to God you can trust him.”
“Seriously? I don’t know who I am or who you are, and yet you want me to trust someone who won’t even identify himself?”
“Taylor, like I said, I don’t know who you’ve become since you disappeared, but I know who you used to be—and I can guarantee you never dated, nor were you ‘protected’ by that ‘Mr. William.’ You were his mother's employee. There’s a lot more I need to tell you, but you have to trust me. Come back to the States, please. Whatever William’s told you, I promise he’s lied at some point.”
What she’s saying fits with what I’ve been suspecting. The longer he keeps me isolated on the yacht, the more suspicious it seems.
“I don’t have any ID. I don’t even know exactly where I am, Jackie.”
“If you trust me, I can arrange for you to come home. The man next to you can help you get the documents.”
“Send me a photo of yourself.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me, Jackie. If we’re friends, let me see you. Maybe I’ll remember.”
“Fine.”
Seconds later, I get three pictures: one in a bar where apparently, we’re both working, and two more in what looks like a nightclub setting.
“Happy now? I asked you to move in with me before you vanished. I don’t know what they did to your mind, Taylor, but I know who you were before. Unless I see with my own eyes that you’re truly okay and you tell me you actually want to stay with that ‘Mr. William,’ I’m going to keep chasing you all over the world.”
“I don’t want to stay with him, but I didn’t know how to leave before.”
“I hate that bastard, but we can’t waste time. Get out before he realizes we’ve found you.”
What follows is like a spy movie. The nameless man throws a huge cap on me, tucking my hair inside it, and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling my face against his chest. Anyone watching would think we’re a couple, but I’m so scared of being caught that my legs feel like jelly.
I’m taking a step into the unknown, trading the security of a man who calls himself my protector for a dangerous-looking stranger. Even if I’m not sure I can trust the guy beside me, I know in my heart that the woman on the phone—Jackie—cares for me.
I should’ve looked for answers about my past long ago, and I know that if I stay with William, I’ll never get them.
William
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Months Later
NEW YORK
“I heardyour patient’s getting better by the day,” I hear Lazarus say to Athanasios when I walk over to our weekly dinner table.
“Just like I said she would,” our friend replies with his usual self-assuredness.
In the case of Brooklyn Foster, her return from a coma was a genuine challenge to the medical community’s predictions—and further proof that Athanasios is the best at what he does.
“Of course you said so.” L.J. laughs. “Where the hell is William? I’m starving.”