“I know,” I purse my lips, feeling the threat of tears behind my eyes, “And I’m grateful that I didn’t but I want my memories back. I want them.”
“I know, babe,” She squeezes my hand, “And maybe they’ll come back. Maybe you just need to focus on fully healing, get back to normality and routine and maybe, they’ll come back. You never know, the doctor said it was possible.”
I nod in agreement but I’m not sure I believe it’ll happen.
“You looked damn hot in the video though,” She laughs.
I chuckle, “I’ll relearn the dance, just for you.”
“Fuck yes,” She grins, “Now, ice cream and Gossip Girl?”
I sleep on Sloane’s couch that night, and again the following day, too afraid to return to the house where my memories are trapped within the walls, but eventually I have to leave.
It’s just when I’m leaving that I get a call.
My agent’s name flashes on the screen and part of me wants to ignore it, but I know she will only call until I answer. The woman doesn’t believe in emails or text messages.
“Savannah,” Her shrill voice rattles my brain.
“Hello Daphne,” I try to add enthusiasm to my voice but it’s lacking.
“Why have you not called?” She asks, “You’ve been out the hospital for almost two weeks.”
“I’m recovering,” I remind her.
“Yes, yes,” I can just imagine her waving her hand like she’s swatting at a fly, “Anyway, you need to be at the cemetery at eleven sharp on Thursday.”
I turn the corner onto my street and pause, spotting Killian’s Audi parked out front with him leaning against it, arms crossed across his wide chest. My heart does a little stutter and for a second, just a quick burst, images flutter through my head. Skin on skin, sweat and moans and teeth and lips. Hands grabbing and bodies moving, spines arched as hips move desperately.
It’s enough to have my stomach knotting and my thighs aching. The fuck was that!?
“Savannah!?” Daphne’s shrill tone snaps me straight out of it.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I shake my head.
“Adrien’s funeral,” She snaps impatiently, “It will begood for your image to attend.”
“Wait, he’s not had it yet?” I resume walking and as I get closer, Killian steps away from the car.
“No,” I hear papers shuffling in the background, “He hadn’t been released but now his cause of death has been ruled.”
“Oh.”
I come to a stop in front of my house just as Killian steps in front of me, his eyes covered by his Ray-Bans but even behind the dark shades, I feel his eyes boring down on me.
“Overdose,” She tuts, “Such a shame.”
“Yeah.” I agree absentmindedly, too caught up in the man standing silently in front of me as he slides the glasses off his face.
“I’ll have your driver collect you at ten-thirty,” She advises before she hangs up, but I don’t bring the cell away from my ear, somewhat frozen. I’m still playing that short reel inside my head. I see nothing at all and yet it’s like they’re burned into my brain.
Slowly, Killian reaches up and gently wraps his roughened fingers around my wrist and tugs my hand down, “The call has ended.”
I nod silently.
“Are you just going to stand here all day?” Amusement brightens his eyes for a flicker, I even see a crease form at the edge of his mouth with a smile butthen it disappears.
“No, uh, no I’m not.”
