Blank: Alpha Billionaire Romance (18 page)

There was a large, dark mass lying in the road not far from the car. I was terrified to see what it was, but my feet kept moving in that direction.

“No, I don’t want to,” I whimpered, but now I was being pulled closer and closer to whatever it was that was beside the wreckage.

I didn’t want to see, but I couldn’t close my eyes. When I stood nearly on top of it, an overhead street light flicked on, and I screamed in horror.

Kris laid on his back, staring up at the black sky. His eyes were blank and unfocused, devoid of their normal humor and heat. Blood streaked his handsome face, matting his hair in clumps and pooling beneath his head. His body was twisted in an unnatural angle, and his clothes were ripped to shreds.

“No!” I dropped to my knees beside him.

His eyes were unblinking, and he didn’t respond to my cries. I begged him to look at me, to see me, to come back to me, but he didn’t move, didn’t flinch. I put my head to his chest, but heard no heartbeat. I pleaded with him to breathe, but he was gone.

I’d lost him. I would never get the chance to tell him how sorry I was. I’d never hear his voice or see that boyish grin again. Then I saw the blood on my hands – his blood – and I started screaming...

I woke up in a puddle of sweat. I was shaking violently, and there were tears on my cheeks. I searched the room wildly, but there was no body, of course. It had been a dream. I was on the couch at Ava’s. That hadn’t been a dream. It hadn’t happened.

I laid back down, still shaking. I could still feel the slick wet of the blood on my hands. Feel the pain that had ripped through me, thinking that I’d lost Kris forever. That anguish. The despair. I’d felt like I might go crazy with grief. His empty eyes, his face covered in blood, and his brown hair even darker where the blood soaked in. I couldn’t erase the image no matter how hard I tried. It was permanently imprinted on my brain, on my heart. No matter how often I insisted it had only been a dream, the sense of loss stuck with me.

I longed for the comfort and certainty that Kris was okay, but the way we’d left things, I couldn’t just call him on the phone. All I could do was rock myself back and forth. Sleep didn’t come again for a long time. But by the time it did, I knew one thing for certain. I wanted Kris, now, more than ever.

Chapter 24

Kris

I poured myself another bourbon, slopping the liquor over the rim of the glass and onto the bar.

“Oops,” I laughed, but there was nobody around to hear me. “Drinking alone is a sign of a serious problem, Kristopher,” I scolded myself in a mock-serious tone of voice. Then I laughed again, but even to my drunken ears, it sounded harsh and humorless.

I’d been drinking alone for hours, and the place was a mess. If I’d half a brain, I would hire some permanent help, I told myself, instead of just having a cleaning woman come in every other day. Then I wouldn’t have to clean up my own messes when I was drunk.

I could also send them out for more liquor after I’d emptied the bottle, I thought as I held the open bottle upside down and let the last few drips fall out into my open mouth. I scowled at the bottle, like it was at fault for everything that’d happened. Seeing Preslee at the station had thrown me for a loop. She’d looked so devastated that I’d wanted to wrap my arms around her. I’d wanted to beat the shit out of the asshole detective who’d upset her. I wanted to just be with her again, but she was still dead set on never forgiving me, and I couldn’t really blame her. I might not ever forgive myself.

Not only had I lost her, but I’d hurt her. She was right to hate me. I’d made her doubt herself. Who knew if she’d ever trust anyone again?

I had tried to convince myself that my motives were pure, that I was only trying to help her, but she knew better, and so did I. I wasn’t a good guy, I was a liar. I hadn’t even been able to come clean to her about who I really was until I hadn’t been able to avoid it. Nothing excused that.

I tried to redeem myself by telling the detectives everything I knew about Quaid and Kris Fields, which, considering how long I’d known them both, had been a lot. Gracen had listened politely, but Krazelburg had seemed more annoyed by the information, even when I gave them the papers I’d gotten from the bartender. I’d left after Gracen promised to look into things, but I hadn’t been very hopeful.

Then I came home and got drunk.

I’d tried to call Preslee more times than I could remember before running into her at the police station. Each time it went straight to voicemail. At one point, I heard someone pick up and my heart leapt in my throat…but it was only Ava, threatening me with the cops if I didn’t stop.

“And this time they’ll be looking for the right guy,” she’d promised.

I didn’t know Ava well, but I got the feeling that she wasn’t the type of girl to make idle threats.

I stumbled into the bedroom, suddenly very sleepy. I barely made it to the bed before I collapsed, still fully clothed. I passed out in the middle of telling myself to hire someone to help me undress when I was drunk.

Unfortunately, the drinking didn’t give me the main thing I wanted. A dreamless sleep.

It felt as though I didn’t get more than five or ten minutes at a time. I kept half waking, sometimes expecting to see Preslee lying there beside me. I was always disappointed for a split second before remembering that Preslee would never be there again. Then I would close my eyes and repeat the pattern again and again.

First, they were good dreams, the nightmare coming when I woke up and realized they weren’t real.

Then the real nightmare came.

She and I were back in that parking lot, in front of the bar, and she was screaming at me, cold fury and hatred in her eyes. Then she got behind the wheel of a car and sped away.

I jumped in my Lexus and followed. I had to get her to listen to me. We traveled over long, dark roads. There were curves and potholes and bumps, but I had to keep her in my sights. I had to get her to stop, to listen. I couldn’t lose her forever.

I drove on and on, faster and faster, but her taillights were getting smaller and smaller the faster I drove. I slammed my hand on the wheel in despair. I couldn’t lose her.

Then, before I could blink, her car loomed in front of me. I was flying toward her, too fast, heading right for her driver’s side. I slammed on the brake pedal with both feet, screaming for her to move, but nothing happened. I got one more look at her face before my car crashed into her.

I woke up, heart pounding. The sight of the sun peeking in through the curtains made me sigh in relief. A dream. It didn’t matter how real it had felt.

I felt terrible, sick, and achy, as if I hadn’t slept a wink, but even through the fog, I knew one thing for certain. There was no way I could lose her forever. I had to get Preslee back.

Chapter 25

Preslee

On Monday morning, Ava went to work as usual. She took the car this time, but only after I assured her that there was nowhere I wanted to go. I just wanted to bum around the apartment all day and hide my face from the world.

After the dreams I’d had, I felt like an emotionless zombie. It was like all of my mental strength had been sapped. I felt…numb.

“You’ve been downloading too much information over the past few days,” Ava had declared before she’d left.

Leave it to her to put it in computer terms, but she was right, I’d been dealing with way too much. Getting my memories back in bits and pieces. The detectives not believing me.

Kris.

As soon as I thought about him, I was flooded with images from the dream I’d had. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering at the memory of Kris, so broken and battered. My panic when I found him that way. I felt physically ill just thinking about it. The emotions were still so raw, and now I couldn’t even call him to tell him about the dream, hear his voice to reassure myself that he was safe, because I’d driven him away.

No!
Part of me shouted in protest, objecting to placing any blame on myself. Kris was the one who’d lied. He should have been honest with me, and I was well within my rights to be angry, but I shouldn’t have said some of the things I did. That much I could now admit. I’d wanted him to hurt, to feel the agony that he’d caused me with his casual betrayal. At the same time, I didn’t feel that I was in a position to apologize. I’d ignored his calls for days until finally the phone had stopped ringing. He’d given up on me.

I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t even tried to understand, to listen to what he had to say and consider every angle of what happened.

I closed my eyes, trying to forget the glorious lines of his body. The way he tasted when I licked his neck. How he shivered when I traced a line down his torso with my fingertips. I couldn’t let myself get swept away in fantasy and delusions. My body hungered for him, but my head knew better.

I hated him, I told myself. He hurt me. I hated him.

But I didn’t. Not anymore. I was angry. I was so, so hurt and angry, but I didn’t hate him. I couldn’t. He had gone above and beyond for me. He didn’t need to cart me around on a wild goose chase for evidence. He didn’t have to come to this little apartment for brunch, just so he could spend time with my best friend. He didn’t have to hold me in his arms on a crowded street corner while I cried over a recovered memory. He didn’t have to do any of those things, and yet, he had.

God, the man drove me crazy. I’d seen so much in his eyes, kindness and friendship, but also lust, want, desire and need. I’d responded to all of it because I had wanted him too. The look in his eyes had undone me.

If only he had been honest with me, I kept telling myself, but what would that have changed? Would I have trusted him? The entire reason I became involved with him in the first place was because I believed he had the know-how to help me on my case. Had I known that he was just some regular Joe off the street, would I have opened up to him?

Maybe.

He was a warm, kind person, but I was gun-shy too, I had just gotten out of the hospital. It’s likely that we would never have become involved at all.
D
id I want to give that up? If I had known at the time how it would end, would I have done anything differently?

We always want to believe that if we could go back and change history, we would, but I knew that meant I would have never met him. He sparked a passion in me that spread like wildfire, hot and a little dangerous. But he was also a balm for my soul. He’d driven fear and anxiety away with soft touches and sweet kisses that healed my wounds. Could I honestly say that I wished it hadn’t happened? If anything, I regretted knowing that I’d probably never experience that sort of pleasure again. No other man would measure up to Kris.

He had, after all, been my first.

It was all such a mess. I laid on the sofa, going over everything in my mind for what felt like hours. I was so deeply entrenched in my mixed-up thoughts that I almost didn’t notice my phone ringing. I picked up just in time to avoid sending the call to voicemail.

“Miss Keats? This is Detective Gracen.”

His gruff voice on the other end of the line caused me to bolt upright.

“Yes, Detective. What can I do for you?” I felt my pulse pound. This could either be very good or it could be very bad.

“Miss Keats, we’ve taken Kris Fields into custody,” he told me.

My hands started shaking.

He continued, “He was arrested for drunken and disorderly conduct last night. I was wondering if you’d be interested in coming down to the station to ID him in relation to your case.”

The room was spinning. A possible happy ending through all of this nonsense was so close, I could almost touch it. At least happy for this part of my life.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Chapter 26

Preslee

When the cab pulled up, I climbed in and begged him to drive to the police station as fast as he could.

“Listen, kid, I’m not gonna risk getting a ticket – especially if we’re going to see the police, anyway.” He laughed, like this was the funniest joke he’d ever heard.

I sat back, my stomach a mess of nerves. I hadn’t thought about this part, hadn’t thought about what it would mean if they really did make an arrest.

By the time I arrived at the station, they were ready for the line-up.

Krazelburg looked unhappy to see me as he led me into a cool, dark room with two-way glass along one wall. On the other side was a second room with lights trained on the opposite wall.

An assistant district attorney was there with a large cup of coffee steaming in her hand. She looked overworked and exhausted, with dark, bruising circles under her eyes.

“Hi, Miss Keats,” she said warmly and shook my hand. “I’m here to document the line-up process. My name is ADA Marks. Do you need anything before we get started?”

I shook my head. “I’m really eager to get this over with,” I answered honestly.

She smiled in understanding. “Deep breaths and take your time. Don’t feel like you have to rush. We have all the time in the world, just make sure you’re certain.”

I heard the detective mutter something under his breath, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t complimentary.

“What was that, Detective?” Marks asked, her hazel eyes narrowed.