Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“I want some fucking answers.”
She shook her head. “She can’t give them to you. Nothing has changed. Don’t you understand?”
I wanted to laugh at her statement. Nothing has changed? My whole life had blown up, and I still didn’t understand why.
“No, Emma. No, I don’t. I don’t understand a thing about this entire situation.”
She stared at me, puzzled. She looked past my shoulder, her eyes widening, but before she could speak, I heard it behind me. The voice that had flooded my memories in the day and haunted me in my restless sleep. It was a voice that used to soothe me but now caused a vortex of emotion: anger and frustration, mixed with need and want.
Her voice.
My Nightingale.
“Emma? Is there a problem?”
I turned, nudging Emma to the side. She stood there, a mere three feet from me, staring at me with a frown on her face. Her blue eyes, the ones I loved to capture with my lens, were confused and unblinking. I stepped forward, my entire body shaking, fighting the urge to start yelling and demanding answers. The logical part of me knew that would only get me thrown out, and I needed to remain calm.
“Not a problem,” I rasped, keeping my voice steady. “We were just talking.” I exhaled hard, knowing I had to get her somewhere private so we could talk. “Hello, Ally.”
She grimaced, her hand flying to her forehead, where her fingers restlessly rubbed the skin as though she were in pain. Her fathomless eyes stared at me, her brow furrowed.
I realized in that one moment something was terribly wrong.
“I apologize,” she spoke, sounding formal. “You have me at a disadvantage.” Her hand rose in greeting. “I’m Alexandra Robbins…and you are?”
I stared at her hand and then her beautiful face.
The woman I had loved passionately—desperately—and still loved to this day.
My former fiancée…who was looking at me with no recognition.
As if I were a stranger to her.
And then it hit me as I took in the emptiness in her eyes.
I was.
CHAPTER
ONE
ADAM
I swung myself up onto the ledge, cursing Sean silently as I shifted and balanced. Tonight, of all nights, was when he had his boats out, and he wanted this picture. He rarely asked me for anything outside of work, so I couldn’t refuse him. It had rained earlier, and now all the surfaces in the city were covered with a thin layer of ice after the temperature dropped suddenly—an unexpected thing in April. The angle was wrong from the ground, however, and I needed this extra height to give me the right depth for the shot.
I lifted my shoulder to distribute the weight of the rucksack. I should’ve shucked it off before getting on the ledge, but my assistant, Tommy, had been a no-show. The roof was covered in half-frozen puddles, the gravel and sand accumulating with leftover snow in small piles. I didn’t want the bag to get wet or stolen; the contents were far too valuable. I wasn’t the only one out on this night enjoying the view. Several people were milling around on the large rooftop, although I was sure I would be the only one climbing the ledge. At least it was a cold, clear night—perfect for what Sean wanted—with no wind to hamper me. The cold, I could handle. The wind was just a bitch, so I was grateful for its absence.
Another few inches—that was all I needed for the perfect shot. I slid my foot carefully along the ice as I balanced myself and the camera, the view coming into perfect focus, the water smooth and reflective. The shutter clicked as I got shot after shot of the illuminated boats anchored in the harbor. I only needed a couple more, then I was done. A sudden shout and a hand on my leg caused me to start, my foot to slip, the bag on my shoulder to shift, and me to lurch sideways. I heard another shout, felt the sharp tug on my coat that threw me backward, followed by a nasty pain in my head…
…and then the world went black.
My eyes flew open, my entire body in panic mode. The space around me was dim, unfamiliar, and unfocused.
Where the hell was I?
Someone was bending over me, the weight of their body on my chest feeling peculiar and not welcome. My head ached and throbbed, and there was something wet and cold in my eyes. My arms felt heavy, as if they were restricted when I pushed on the weight, which only seemed to increase, and I started struggling in earnest, cursing and striking out blindly.
“Get off him!” A voice broke through my panic. “You’re frightening him.”
“He needs to be restrained. He’s been fighting us the whole way here.”
“He needs to be looked after, and his head is bleeding again. Back off, Hank. Now!”