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CHAPTER 21

AURORA

P resent day

What had I done?

I stared at the wrinkled and bloodied wedding dress. It seemed oddly familiar, and yet I couldn’t imagine why. I’d think I would remember willingly wearing a freaking Victorian wedding gown.

Think!

Nothing was going to come to me kneeling on the floor. I needed to get out of this awful dress and wash the blood off. Maybe then it would all come back to me. I ran my hands over my upper arms as a shiver racked my body. That was, if I wanted to remember.

I wrapped my left hand around a drawer handle and used it to pull myself upright. I then searched the other drawers for a pair of scissors. My only option was to somehow cut my way out of the dress. I found a pair of large, lethal-looking silver shears.

Just as I was about to thrust the opened blades between my breasts to cut the silk corset, I heard a sound behind me.

I turned, gripping the shears like a weapon and raising them high.

Roman stood in the doorway. His chest was bare. He was holding what looked like a wadded-up white dress shirt soaked in blood over his shoulder.

I gasped. “What happened?”

His eyes narrowed. “You shot me. And on our wedding day, no less.”

I blinked. “What? No. That’s not possible!”

He held up a placating hand. “It’s okay, baby. I’m not angry.”

I backed away, gripping the scissors with both hands and holding them out in front of me. “Why would you say such a thing?”

“I’m going to get you help. I will protect you, just like before.”

I frowned. “Before? What do you mean, before?”

Roman gave me a sympathetic look. “With your parents.”

“But I didn’t shoot my parents. You know that. And I didn’t shoot you! I could never… I would never?—”

My mind flashed back to the time I shot a gun at him in his office. “That other time wasn’t real. I mean it was, but it wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—” My head swam. “What is happening? I don’t understand.”

Roman approached me. “Sweetheart, put the scissors down.”

I wiped my sweaty palm on my bloody dress and gripped the scissors harder. “Stay back. Don’t come any closer.”

“Baby, I’m trying to help you. You need to trust me.”

Trust him? That was a laugh.

My eyes narrowed as I held the scissors higher. “What did you do?”

“Please, just put down the scissors and we’ll talk this out. I’m not angry with you. I just want to help you.”

“What did you do? You did this! I know you did. Your wound’s probably fake. You’re just trying to trick me.”

His lips thinned as he pulled the shirt away from his chest. He grimaced when the sticky fabric clung to the already drying blood on his skin. As he lowered the shirt, fresh blood oozed from the wound. I knew nothing about gunshot wounds, but it was definitely a real wound. There was no faking the blood dripping down his chest or how I could see his flesh split open.

I shook my head as I dropped the scissors. They clattered to the floor at my feet. “No. No. This isn’t real. I don’t remember… why would I shoot you?”

Roman surged forward. His hands gripped my shoulders. “Baby, look at me. Look at me!”

His urgent tone broke through my fog. I raised my gaze to him.

“I’m going to protect you. Do you understand me? I don’t care what you did. We’ll get through this together.”

I buried my head against his chest, uncaring about the blood. “I don’t know what’s happening, Roman. I don’t remember.”

Disjointed pictures flashed across my mind.

Westminster Abbey.

An orchestra playing the wedding march.

Me walking down an aisle in a white dress with Roman at my side.

Wedding guests.

A gun in my hand.

The altar.

The bishop.

A gunshot.

Screaming.

I tried to back away from Roman, but he gripped my shoulders harder.

I struggled in his grasp. “No. It can’t be true. It can’t be. Something’s wrong.”

There was a commotion downstairs. We both turned toward the sounds.

I broke free from Roman and backed up. “What is that?”

He held his palms up and out. “It’s the only way I could protect you from the police.”

I couldn’t breathe. The tight corset was cutting off my air. I fell back against the wall. “What did you do?”

“They’re here to take you to a private asylum. Baby, it’s the only way.”

“I’m not crazy. I didn’t shoot you! This is all just a trick. One of your twisted games.”

“Look at me!” He pointed to his bloodied chest wound. “Look at your dress. Are you telling me you don’t remember walking down the aisle? The vows before the bishop? You, holding that gun?”

I slid along the wall as I inched away from him. He knew damn well I remembered those things. I just couldn’t remember if they were real .

The commotion outside our dressing room intensified.

No longer willing to listen to him, I broke free. Picking up the bloodied skirts of my dress, I bolted for the door. I ran through the bedroom to the hallway. As I headed for the front stairs, I could see several men in white uniforms heading up. I turned and ran down the hallway, heading for the servants’ stairway.

I clung to the banister as I half ran, half tripped down the narrow back passageway. Ignoring the cook’s shocked expression, I squeezed past her and the stainless steel counter as I made a break for the back door.

As soon as I swung it open, I could see more men in white uniforms approaching through the enclosed garden. I slammed the door shut and ran in the other direction. I could hear Roman calling my name but didn’t dare turn around. I tried to navigate the rabbit warren of tiny corridors and doors that made up the servants’ area of the gothic church mansion.

I pulled open one heavy wooden door and realized I was in the dining room. I bolted past the long table and made for the double pocket doors. As soon as I crossed the threshold, I was in the outer hallway. Without looking around, I ran straight for the front door.

Someone grabbed me from behind.

“Let me go!” I screamed.

The strange man wrapped his arms around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides.

“Get off her!” roared Roman.

He wrenched me out of the man’s arms and swung his fist, connecting with the man’s jaw and knocking him backward.

Roman then turned to me. “Stop making this harder, Aurora. This needs to happen if I’m going to protect you from the authorities.”

I shook my head. “You’re lying. You’re lying.”

My shoulders sagged. I was confused and frightened and exhausted. I had no more fight left in me.

Roman nodded to the men who were standing nearby.

I felt the prick of a needle in my upper arm. Then everything went fuzzy. I blinked several times, fighting the darkness.

Through a haze, I watched one of the men in white approach Roman as he rubbed his jaw. “Damn. No one said anything about you punching me. That’s going to cost you extra.”

I blinked again, straining to remain conscious as I waited for Roman’s response.

Roman smirked. “You’ll get paid. Just get her to the asylum.”

I knew it.

I knew it.

I knew this wasn’t rea?—