Page 50

CHAPTER 50

Skye

N o matter how much I will it, I can’t fall asleep. Tossing and turning, I feel feverish. The loss of my locket has undone me. Tormented, all I can think about is the afternoon I spent in Finn’s studio. What kind of game was he playing with me? Showing me that portrait. Asking me to practically bare myself to him. Touching me. Staring at me. Taunting me. Playing that Springsteen song that begged me to reveal myself. Then, the phone call. Rubbing my chest where my locket should be, I start to obsess about Finn and Kayla. The two of them together. Getting married. My heart aches. This masquerade has gone on far too long. But it’s probably too late to end it. Besides, why would he ever take me back? He thinks I cheated on him. Had an affair. Maybe I did. I still can’t remember what led to my near-fatal accident. Any glimmer of the truth eludes me.

The melodic ebb and flow of the ocean drifts through the open window, the soothing sound on replay. It doesn’t relax me. Why can’t I remember? I search my mind, but it’s too clouded with self-doubt and anguish. My head throbs with frustration that gives way to despair. Tears in my eyes, I at last succumb to the night.

My slumber is short-lived. Just after I doze off, a loud rap at the front door awakens me. The rapping is ruthless, growing louder and faster with each knock. Finn’s voice accompanies the banging.

“Scarlet, open the door!” More pounding. “Goddammit! Open it!”

Shouting my name, he sounds frantic. Almost manic. I bolt up and jump out of bed. My heart gallops. Maybe something’s wrong with Maddie! Another asthma attack though I’ve not heard any indications on my monitor. Was I too fast asleep? Too dead to the world? My chest squeezes with clawing dread.

Foregoing a bathrobe or slippers, I hurry to the front door in my nightshirt, clambering down the stairs, alarm and fear filling every atom of my being.

“Open up, Scarlet.” The pounding grows louder, more desperate. “If you don’t, I’ll knock down the damn door.”

Something’s wrong. Very wrong! My fingers trembling, my heart clenching, I unlock the door and swing it open. His formidable body hovers over me, so close we’re almost touching. His flexed arms stretch across the doorframe. His head bowed, he glares at me, who, barefooted, barely reaches his chin. Shaking, I look up and meet his gaze. A madness, like none other, flickers in his eyes. Narrowed and piercing, two cobalt arrows, I’ve never seen him like this before.

He clutches my shoulders. His grip is powerful, borderline painful. “Let me in!”

Before I can say a word or move away, he forces himself in, shoving me against a wall. The stucco scrapes my back. He leans in closer, holding me against it. His face is a palm’s width away from mine, his mouth so close I can taste him. His breathing is heavy, thick with the scent of alcohol. His breath sears my cheeks, the heat of his body permeating every particle of my being.

“Finn, you’re drunk,” I spit out.

“I’m not drunk.”

“What’s wrong?” A chill runs through me. “Is everything okay with Maddie?”

“This has nothing to do with Maddie.” Pinching his lips, he breathes in and out of his nose. His nostrils flare. “On second thought, maybe everything.”

“Please tell me what’s going on. I don’t understand.”

Pinned against the wall, I have no choice but to hear him out. My pulse drums in my ears. My shoulders ache.

His eyes, darkening with rage, stay locked on me. Still caging me with his concrete body, he slips his hand into a pocket. My gaze follows him.

He pulls something out. Gold and shiny. Dangling it like bait, he holds it in front of me.

Oh my God! It’s my necklace with my lucky locket with the photo of the three of us. Taken just after Maddie was born.

“H-how did you get this?” My voice shakes.

His smoldering eyes laser into mine. “Maddie found it. Your question belongs to me.”

My throat constricts. My mouth goes dry. I can’t form words. Shock and fear have stolen my voice.

Finn’s jaw stiffens. “This belonged to my late wife.”

I swallow hard and finally, two little words form on my quivering lips.

“It’s mine.”

“What!?” he bites out, shoving the necklace back into his pocket. “How the hell did you get it?”

Shuddering silence. His eyes grow darker, his pupils dilating with each harsh breath. The wild expression on his face frightens me. My stomach twists and churns.

“Tell me, Scar-let. Who. Are. You?” Each word is a sharp shard of glass.

“Please,” I beg, tears lacing my voice. “I can’t tell you.”

“You can and you will!”

“I-I’m...” I can’t complete my thought. I can’t say my name. My voice is strangled. My heart pounds in my throat.

“ Tell me.”

His voice rises decibels with fury. His hipbones still pinning me, his searing gaze fixed on me, he lifts one hand to my face and squeezes my jaw so hard I wince.

He squeezes harder, each word a bullet. “TELL. ME.”

I whimper again. My lips pucker. The pain so great, tears leak from my eyes. His grip so forceful, I can’t look away from him. His breathing grows more ragged. His gaze more Satanic.

“TELL ME,” he repeats, his voice raw against my neck. “Call me by your name or I’ll force the truth out of you.”

He leans in closer to me and I feel him pulsing against me. I want him in the worst possible way. The truth is painful. The ache so beautiful.

Then, before it snaps, he releases my jaw.

Remember me.

As my mouth relaxes, I utter one word.