"You don't remember me, do you?"
I shook my head. "Should I? I'm sorry I don't."
"You were a military brat. So was I."
My blood chilled. That was Emile's life, not Gatsby's.
"Oh? What base?"
"Fort Riley. Well, that's the only one I spent any good amount of time at. There was one year my dad really wanted to pretend he was a family man to my stepmom, so he made me spend a summer with him."
I rubbed the back of my neck nervously.
"Cool. People came and went all the time; it's hard to remember everyone."
"Oh, absolutely. I'm not surprised you don't remember me. The only reason I remember you is because you were friends with my stepbrother, Darren. You came around a bunch and then stopped. When I asked him why, he'd said you'd gotten a summer job."
The air around me grew hot, and I felt like I was suffocating. Lilly stepped forward slowly, a grin spreading over her face so wide it was horrifying.
"You remember Darren, don't you?"
"I do." A bead of sweat fell from my forehead. I needed to get out of here. Something wasn't right.
"But I bet you remember my stepmom, Erica, more, don't you?"
I didn't answer, but the guilt was clear on my face. Everyone on base knew what my mom was making me do. It was the secret that wasn't a real secret. Much like the list of women who came to our house.
"You hear what happened to her?"
"No, what?" I asked, my breathing ragged. My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my body. Lilly came close and ran a finger down my sweaty chest. She stood on her tiptoes to whisper the most chilling words in my ears.
"She went missing, along with a bunch of other military wives. I was told, when they found her body, the man doing the autopsy said it looked like an animal had tried to eat her. Do you remember that, Emile Dumas?"
Chapter 48
Gatsby
One Year Ago
“Where am I?”Her panicked voice echoed from across the room. A grin spread across my face as my blood raced. I’d been leaning in the dark for hours, waiting for her. I flicked the light switch.
"Hello, Donna."
She hissed from the harshness of the light and fought her restraints. "Who's there?"
"You don't remember me?" I kicked off the wall and sauntered forward. I stood tall, flexing my muscles. Her vision adjusted, and she turned her head toward me. Her eyes went up and down my naked chest. I watched the slow, jerky movements as she took in every muscle, tattoo, and scar I'd given myself.
Because of her andthe others.
"Emile?" She paled. "I thought you were in prison." In her shock, she'd stopped moving completely. Her eyes scanned me again, and then when they journeyed back down, her eyes froze on the knife in my hand.
"So, you do remember?" I smirked. "For a moment, I was a little offended. Had all those times you forced yourself on me not memorable enough for you?"
"I never forced myself on you." Her fear turned to anger quickly. Her blue eyes hardened, the wrinkles around her eyes made worse by the scowl. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing?"
I blinked. "You think what you did to me was consensual?" As I said the words, my hands flexed around the knife. She seemed deeply offended that I'd accuse her of such a thing.
"Of course it was. Never once did you tell me no or push me away. You wanted me. You loved the attention from us, Emile. Don't try to pretend it was something it wasn't."
