Page 73 of Devil's Property

“You don’t remember me, do you, Navarro?”

My question stymied him and he stopped short, narrowing his eyes until they were hooded with confusion and fury. His upper lip curled, his face contorting as he tried to remember.

“You were kind to me. I was a lost little girl, chased by a monster. You saved me. You went out of your way to carry me to safety. You told me that night you would hunt down the person who’d hurt me. Did you? I had no clue who you were except for my hero.”

He took another step closer and his body swayed. When he looked away, I sensed something about that day came back to him. “What?”

“There was a party. I don’t know why we were there. I had no idea who the people were. I was nine years old. But I was wearing a pretty party dress, happy to be going anywhere sincemy father kept me in a gilded cage. I went after a cat or maybe a rabbit. Before I knew it, I was lost in the woods. Suddenly there was a scary man who said crazy things to me and I ran and ran. But I fell.”

Seconds later, he sucked in his breath, finally returning his full attention to me. I was shaking, the memory more vivid than it had ever been. Along with watching Navarro’s face twist as images flashed in his mind, they did mine as well. The young man as well as the monster standing in front of me.

Trembling, I reached out but curled my fingers. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t a fairytale and he was no longer the boy who’d protected me from the boogeyman. He was a powerful and very dangerous man.

I backed away.

He took another step closer. Still confused. Still processing.

After another step, I realized I was close to being caged in by the outdoor kitchen and pool furniture. “Don’t you remember?”

He faltered, his chest heaving. “Fuck.” The light went on in his eyes.

“What did you do with him, Navarro? After you carried me back to the party, you disappeared. Did you hunt him down?”

“What is your name?” he asked again, the demand in his tone much deeper and more controlling than before.

I closed my eyes, still able to see the notebook I’d found locked away in my father’s things. My childhood had been laid out like a graphic horror novel complete with details about my mother’s death.

The last time I’d seen her alive pressed hard against my senses.

“Come here, baby girl. Mama needs to tell you something.”

Her voice was so soft. “Mama. Why are you sad?”

She tried to smile. “I’m not sad, my sweet girl. I’m just tired. I just need you to know how much I love you. If anything happens, take good care of your sister.”

“Mama. You’re scaring me. What are you talking about?”

“I’m just trying to make certain you know how important family is. That’s all.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, blocking out the memory. It had been the last time I’d seen her alive.

“No. Tell me what you did to the man.” My demand was just as heartfelt and angry as his.

He was close to foaming at the mouth, his rage unlike anything I’d seen up to this point. As he issued a savage growl, he dropped his head into his hands. His chest continued to heave, every breath he took as if his last.

I was still mesmerized by his beauty and the uncompromised strength in the man. As well as the savagery and possessiveness. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

Or to protect those he cared about.

Even in death.

“I bashed his head in with a rock. Then I tossed his body in the river.”

The air was ripped from my lungs and I stood taller, taking gasping breaths from comprehending the lengths he’d go to protect me. Then and now. “You did?”

“Yes. And I’d do it again if it meant the fucker couldn’t hurt you.”

I thought about the scar on the back of my leg. It could have been so much worse. As if realizing what I was thinking, he slowly lowered his gaze to my left leg. His face was still contorted, but I gathered a sense he’d had no idea who I was or who my father had been.