Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(63)

I hear an owl sound in response.

“Thanks!” Spencer replies, lifting his hand.

Ugh. That man. He is seriously going to leave me in the car—at night—with no keys. Shit! He has my panic button. Now it’s me who is going to do the strangling.

I get out of the car, slam the door, hoping it breaks the mirror or something, and then I hear the beep of the lock after I take my first step.

“Spencer!” I yell, knowing the asshole can hear me. “I’m going to kill you!”

I rush into my building and mumble the entire way about all the ways I’m going to seek retribution. I push open the door to my apartment, ready to unleash the holy wrath of hell, but he’s in the foyer, waiting, and there’s something in his eyes that stops me.

That undeniable pull is pulsing between us, calling to me, and I can’t breathe. I need him. I am angry and confused and all the other things, but more than any of it, is desperation for the man standing in front of me.

I throw my clutch to the ground and stride toward him as he moves toward me. We grab for each other and our mouths slam together. It’s too much and not enough. I need to feel his skin, taste him, breathe him into me so I’m whole.

He kisses me deeper, sliding his hot tongue against mine. His hands slide down my back before pulling the zipper down as I start to unbutton his shirt. I don’t care that none of this makes sense because it doesn’t have to. It’s Spencer, and it’s right.

“Tell me to stop, Brielle,” he pleads.

“Never.”

I don’t give him a chance to ask me for something else, I kiss him harder, shoving both his coat and shirt off his shoulders, loving the width and strength of his body. We think too much, and I am done.

He doesn’t remove my dress, just lets it hang open as his fingers are splayed across my bare back, holding me to him.

I pull back, trying to slip my hands between us, so afraid this moment will end.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” Spencer says between breaths. “What do you want me to do? What do you want, Brie?”

As I go to answer, there’s a sharp pain in my head. I push back, and he releases me instantly. The throbbing is so overwhelming and sharp that I can’t hear anything. I close my eyes, battling the agony, and then, it disappears. The mist is lighter. I can see parts of something.

It’s warm, the sun isn’t fully up in the sky yet, but the heat is constant. Isaac and I are in a parking lot, talking and joking about something. I can hear his voice and see his smile as we exit the car.

“No,” I say to myself and possibly aloud. “No, I can’t.”

“What do you want me to do?” Isaac asks. “Brie?”

“Just let me handle it,” I tell him.

Then it’s fuzzy again.

I fight to stay here, to see a face or a name, but I can’t stop the nausea or the anxiety in my chest. This is important. It’s a memory, and I need it.

“Brielle!” Spencer yells, but I tune him out, forcing myself to stay in this memory no matter how painful it is.

I drop down, holding my head in my hands, covering my ears. My brother is rounding the car, trying to reach me. There’s a man. He’s yelling, but I can’t make out anything he’s saying. His face is washed out by sunlight, and the harder I try to see him, the brighter it gets. More yelling. More deep voices, and Isaac pleading as a gun is drawn. The sun glinting off the barrel as it’s moved from left to right. I step toward the unknown man, but Isaac grabs my wrist as he calls my name. He tries to put himself in front of me. The pain in my head blooms again, but I still struggle to see, to reach for Isaac, but then there’s nothing.

My body trembles, and the tears trickle down my cheeks. The pain of seeing Isaac’s face in those flickers of moments is too much. I was there, but I couldn’t see what I needed most. I don’t even know what parking lot we were in.

Slowly, I return to myself, and new words come into focus. “Please, sweetheart, talk to me.” Spencer’s voice is shaky and almost a whisper. His arms are vises, holding all my broken parts together.

“I saw it! I saw . . . I saw it!” I cry as Spencer rocks me in his arms.

“Tell me what you saw.” There’s a crack in his voice, and I can feel his fear mingling with my own.

“The gun. I saw the gun. I saw him grab me and call my name.”

“Did you see who it was?”

“No.” I sob. “I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay, Brielle. It’s okay. You’re safe, and it’s okay.”

But it’s not. I was so close. I had a memory hit me. The most important one, and I couldn’t remember.

I sit in Spencer’s arms, and all I see is Isaac’s face. The fear and worry as he reached for me. I hear his voice, the resolve that he wouldn’t let anything hurt me. I wanted to reach out to him, to tell him to run and save himself and be there for Addy and Elodie. I remember the panic that I wouldn’t see the people I love ever again, that we would both die.

A new wave of agony crashes through me. I look up into his eyes, tears making it hard to see. “Help me forget,” I beg him.

“Brie . . .”

I shake my head, not wanting to be rejected or feel anything other than safe. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck and pull his lips to mine. “Please, help me forget. Take the pain away.”