Visions of that night flood back into my brain. The night I almost died.
“You’re kissing him?!”
His voice is as loud and clear as it was back then when he directed it at the girl who drove me off a cliff. And I know now he is responsible for my suffering.
I shake my head to make the memory go away.
“You,” I growl, holding my axe steady. “Give me one good reason not to fucking plow you down right now.”
He holds up a picture. The face of a girl stops me in my tracks.
Her long, blond hair and striking hazel eyes make my breath falter.
I know her.
I snatch the picture out of his hand and stare. Stare, for as long as I can, before the memory slips away from me again.
It’s her.
The girl from my dreams.
“How did you get this?” I growl at the guy. “Who are you?”
He’s still holding up his hands as if he’s trying to come in peace, even though I can feel the hatred flowing through my veins.
“My name is Luca. I’m your brother. I’ve been looking all over for you,” he says, out of breath. “You’ve been missing for three years.”
“Missing?” I growl. “No, I was hiding.”
“Hiding?” He frowns. “Wait, what?”
“Who is this?” I say, holding up the picture in front of his face. “Tell me!”
“Jasmine,” Luca replies. “You don’t remember?”
“I remember her face, not her name,” I bark back. “But your name … that reminds me of hell.”
I really want to put my axe in his skull right now, but he knows this girl. He could bring me to her. Maybe then I can finally understand who I really am. Where I belong.
“Take me to her,” I say.
He laughs. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.” He holds out his hand. “How about you and I just talk for a while, hmm?”
“Talk?” I sneer. “About what?”
“For starters, why you didn’t come back home?” he asks.
“Home?” I respond. “I don’t fucking know where that is. All I remember is that it’s fucking dangerous.”
Luca sighs out loud and shakes his head. “Fuck … no wonder you were gone for so long. And why it took so long to find you.” He laughs and kicks some of the leaves, then rubs his face. “Fuck me, just my fucking luck.”
I clearly remember this dude yelling at me for something I did. Something involving a kiss. And it being the reason for my trauma.
“Why would you come looking for me?” I ask. “Because I remember you. I remember your voice. I remember you … chasing me off with that girl … who then drove me off a cliff.”
“Jill,” he says in a single breath.
But that name … it sparks a kind of hatred I’ve never felt before. Like a smoldering fire finally being fed enough oxygen to grow into a blazing fire.