“She has no memory, Trent.”
I swiveled sharply to look at Tia. “What?” My breathing stuttered. I could’ve sworn my heart stopped beating for just a second.
She stepped forward, her hand a gentle touch on my arm. “Rika doesn’t remember you. I’ve asked.”
I reared back, the movement so abrupt, her hand dropped. A surge of alarm flooded my body, mind, and soul at precisely the same time my heart resumed its persistent beat. Louder and harder in my chest. “Why just me?”
“No, Trent.” Zayne walked around to stand next to Tia. “Not just you. She remembers nothing.”
“Like nothing at all?” I couldn’t keep the incredulity out of my voice.
“Not even her name.” Tia sighed.
Every single muscle tensed, squeezing the breath from my lungs. “But she must remember some of her past, though,” I muttered, clinging to hope.
She shook her head, her expression solemn. “Nothing.”
For just a beat, the skeptic in me came to the fore. “Is this some sick joke you both concocted to get rid of me? What have you done to her?”
“Are you serious right now?” Zayne gritted. “Why the fuck would we want to get rid of you. Hell, I’ve been waiting a long time to see if someone would come looking for her. But a fucking husband and a dead wife story wasn’t what I expected.”
“Looking for her?” I frowned. “How long?”
“Seven years.”
I cursed. “That’s in line with my wife’s death which right now doesn’t make sense. Still skeptical, I shot Zayne a quizzical look. “When exactly did you find her?” The second the date left his lips, my body shook with the force of my anger. “That was a couple of weeks after she’d given birth—after I’d cremated my wife. Suffered her loss for—” I broke off, unable to swallow the stubborn lump that suddenly lodged in my throat. “Which means—”
“Rika is your wife.” Zayne finished, his expression unreadable.
“Trent,” Tia whispered. “Maybe you should sit. Let Zayne fill you in on how he found Rika. And if you still don’t believe us...” she trailed off.
Trying to rein in my impatience to go see Rika, I nodded. “Okay.” Leaning against the window that overlooked the main floor of the club, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. Zayne offered me a glass of whiskey before he took a seat on the edge of his table. I tossed back the drink and set the glass on the ledge next to me before he began speaking.
“Seven years ago, this club was an empty shell. A vacant building filled with rubbish and vagrants. A couple of weeks after we’d cleaned out the place and before renovations began, I came out one afternoon to take measurements.” He stared at the floor, momentarily lost in his memories. “I was just about to leave when a sound had me mounting the stairs to this room. She was lying in that corner on a dirty mattress.” He jerked his chin toward the area behind his table. The blood in my veins turned cold. “Because of the lack of lighting, I assumed she was just another vagrant. When my shouts got no response, I yanked a leg and that’s when I caught sight of the chain. She was shackled to the wall by both hands.”
Fists clenched, I straightened, every inch of me now a block of ice. “Was she...” I couldn’t say the word. Just the thought of some sick bastard touching her shot arrows of rage through my body. The hairs at the back of my nape stood.
Zayne stared at me, his expression consoling. He shook his head, answering my unasked question. “When I finally got her to the hospital, the doctor confirmed that while there’d been no sexual attack, she was heavily drugged on heroin.”
“Heroin?” Disbelief spiked my breathing. I dropped into a chair. Hot tears welled in my eyes, threatening to fall.
He nodded. “According to him, she wasn’t an addict. So not only was she forcefully injected with that shit, but her body was also covered in bruises. A deep gash to her head made matters worse.”
With each word he uttered, pressure built in my chest, constricting my lungs and forcing my heart to pump harder, faster. “God, what did they do to her?” I blinked away the tears to focus on Zayne. “Why?”
He rolled his neck, the agony on his face unmistakable before dropping his gaze to the floor. “Someone left her to bleed to death, Trent. Using the heroin to make her seem like an addict who’d overdosed on that crap.” He looked at me and I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out a deep breath, not wanting to hear his words. But I had to. “The doctor had to induce a coma.” At my frown, he let out a long exhale as though reliving the memories were killing him as well.
Tia stood, her eyes glazed with tears. “Because of the injury, it caused a swelling of the brain and given the amount of heroin in her system, they had to be cautious. The coma ensured her brain would rest while they administered the appropriate treatment. Only, she didn’t come out of it.”
“How long?”
“Three and half years.”
“What?” I forced back the rigid curse words with effort.
Tia nodded. “And when she finally woke, she had no memory.”
“Fuck.” Shoving up out of the chair, I raked both hands through my hair and paced the room. “God, she must’ve been terrified through all of that and I wasn’t there,” I gritted through clenched teeth.
