“It doesn’t matter. You’re back now,” he says into the crook of my neck as he squeezes me tight. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I wish I had something less complicated to offer you, but this is us—a beautiful mess.”

  It sums us up perfectly.

  We stay hugging for minutes, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to let him go now that I know our past. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for Cayden this entire time, knowing what we shared. I hope my memories will one day return, but if they don’t, I’m more than ready to make new ones.

  “What are we going to do?” I whisper, savoring his scent, his touch.

  “I don’t know yet, but I won’t let anything happen to you again. I promise.”

  “We can’t go to the police, can we?” I know the answer, but I need to hear it all the same.

  “No, we can’t. I don’t have any proof, and to tell them what I think means we’ll have to tell them what we did.”

  He’s right.

  “So we wait?” It sounds so dismal, waiting for the Big Bad Wolf to come blow down our houses. But Cayden shakes his head.

  “We don’t wait. We live. We be vigilant, but I refuse to allow that asshole to take you away from me once again.”

  We break apart, and he gently traces the slope of my nose before fingering my lips. I can’t help the moan which leaves.

  “Can I kiss you?”

  He’s asking for permission because he doesn’t know where we stand, a common occurrence between us.

  But I will not succumb to the ghosts as I will live in the now.

  “Yes.”

  He swoops forward, slamming his mouth to mine, uniting us as one. I meet him with everything that I have, fisting his hair because I can’t get close enough. Our tongues duel, fighting for control, but I eventually give in because it feels so good. Cayden doesn’t just kiss. He devours, and I turn to mush against him.

  Something is different about this kiss, and I suppose that’s because we are kissing, full disclosure. I know everything, and although troubled, I feel closer to the man who I have loved since I was a child.

  The thought leaves me heady, and I cling to him, his strength singing to my own.

  “Let me take you out,” he says against my lips, his breath hot and heavy.

  “Out where?”

  “Anywhere,” he replies, suckling my bottom lip. “I want to show you how good we are together.”

  I whimper, almost sliding down his body with a quiver rocking me. “Okay.”

  He can’t hide his happiness. “This is us, Snow, and I intend to remind you how we belong.” When he wraps his hand around the back of my neck, robbing me of breath, I can’t wait to uncover all the ways.

  I’m nervous as I look at my reflection in the mirror.

  I didn’t know what to wear on our “date.” The term seems absurd, seeing as I’ve known Cayden forever, but with my amnesia, it feels like I’m seeing him for the first time.

  I don’t know what happens now. In most circumstances, the truth is supposed to set one free. But for me, I’m left with this ominous shadow hanging over my head.

  However, I keep such thoughts from my mind and focus on getting ready because Cayden will be here in fifteen minutes. I’ve tied my hair back into a messy bun and settled on wearing a red summer dress with brown sandals.

  I wonder if Cayden is as nervous as I am?

  Now that I know the truth, I wonder what happens next? Will this new version of me love Cayden as much as the old me? A sense of dread fills me when the better question comes to mind—will Cayden love the new me? Or are his feelings for the girl I once was?

  That girl didn’t sound like a very nice or happy person, but he still loved her. What if this version is too different from the one he fell in love with?

  Groaning, I massage my temples because these what-ifs aren’t doing anything to help my nerves.

  When there is a knock on my door, it’s time to face these insecurities head-on because no matter how uncertain I feel, Cayden has always loved me and I have to believe in that love.

  Reaching for my lip gloss and phone, I stuff both into my bag and take a calming breath. I’m going to be fine, I repeat over and over. It’s Cayden. It’s time I gave this love a real chance.

  With that as my incentive, I march through the house and open the door with confidence. However, when I see Cayden, standing before me in blue jeans and a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his taut forearms, I hold the doorjamb to stop me from face planting.

  “Hi,” he says with a lopsided smirk.

  “Hello,” I manage to wheeze.

  He is fucking incredible and knowing our past, just makes him all the more desirable. But I rein in my need to tackle him to the ground because I’m not the type of girl who puts out on the first date. Well, I don’t think I am.

  “Where are we going?” I ask when I think I can speak without gasping for air.

  He steps forward while I tighten my hold on the doorjamb. “We’re going to where I should have taken you when you first arrived.”

  I gulp.

  “Okay. That doesn’t sound worrying at all,” I quip, gathering my bearings and locking the door behind me. His bluntness has robbed me of my nerves, which isn’t such a bad thing, I suppose.

  However, when I turn and bump into a solid wall of delectable-smelling flesh, my nerves resurface. Peering up, I chew the inside of my cheek because every time I lock eyes with Cayden, everything falls into place. I can’t explain it, but I guess what we shared is inexplicable.

  “You look beautiful,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

  On instinct, I shiver as his touch has me catching my breath. “Thanks.”

  If he continues looking at me this way, I just may latch onto him and not let go. His grin reveals he’s clued in to my thoughts. “Let’s go.”

  He reaches for my hand and leads me toward his truck.

  We’re silent as he opens the door for me, as it appears we’re both lost in thought. When the engine roars to life, I jolt in my seat. I turn to look out the window, but a warmth spreads from head to toe as Cayden places his hand on my leg softly.

  I watch the world pass me by, just like I did when I first arrived. But now, everything is so different. I know why this place called to me because it’s always been home, just how Cayden has been. Not remembering doesn’t seem fair because what I feel for him…to experience a lifetime of that has me realizing that our love is something extraordinary.

  “We’re here,” Cayden says, shattering my reflections.

  Turning slowly, I peer out the windshield at the huge white house. A longing hits me, not because I recognize it, but because the blossoming lemon tree in the front yard reveals where we are. A breath hitches in my throat as I stare, transfixed at the sight which started this all.

  Without thought, I open the door and jump from the truck, needing to get a closer look at my once home away from home. The closer I get, the harder it is to breathe. I’m waiting for my memories to return. But they don’t.

  Stopping in front of the white picket fence, I examine my surroundings and hate my surname even more. I can see why Cayden referred to this side of the lake as the “rich” because this house is heavy in riches. Compared to my modest abode, it’s easy to understand why a distinct line was drawn in the sand between Cayden and me.

  He stands beside me, allowing me the time to take it all in. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to draw out the memories, but there are none. The only familiarity is through the story Cayden shared with me. “I wish I could remember,” I say, unable to keep the tremor from my voice.

  “I wish you could too,” Cayden replies with regret. “But some part of me is glad that you don’t.”

  Sighing, I allow the sun in as I open my eyes. I understand his reservations, but I don’t want to be sheltered. That’s all I’ve been this entire time. “Is this weird for you?”

  “Weird?” he questions.

  With my gaze still fixed on the house, I answer. “Yes. You being here, with me, must bring up old memories, ones which I can imagine aren’t all pleasant. Those memories have been wiped clean for me, but for you”—I rein in the tears—“they still burden you every day.”

  “I would do anything to protect you from that pain. So I happily take on the burden. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy and free. That’s why I brought you here. It’s time we let go of the past. No more secrets.”

  A tear slips free. “What are we going to do?” I ask again, as the question relates to the entire shitstorm we find ourselves in.

  “I don’t know, Snow.” I’m terrified, but when Cayden reaches for my hand, it comforts me to know we can be unaware together. “But we will figure it out. Together.”

  Turning my chin, I look at him, and an unexpected rush of emotion drowns me. “I’m sorry for everything I did to you.”

  “Shh.” He shakes his head, squeezing my hand. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is now. This.”

  “I promise you, I won’t make the same mistakes again. I wish I could—” However, I never get to finish my sentence because Cayden swoops forward, stealing the air from my lungs when he kisses me.

  Instinctively, I turn into him, wrapping my arms around his nape. I lose myself to his touch, to the way he knows my body better than me. “I’ve always wanted to kiss you here,” he whispers against my lips, his breath warm.

  His admission has me standing on tippy-toes to deepen the connection. He moans into my mouth.

  I know I should allow what he told me today to sink in and take some time to myself, but staying away from Cayden is impossible. His reasonings to why he didn’t tell me the truth probably don’t make sense to most, but I understand.

  Cayden has always put me first to ensure my happiness before his. He believed saving me from the heartache was the right thing to do because that’s what we do for the people we love—we sacrifice our soul to save theirs.

  How can I be mad at him for having my best interests at heart? Our story is incredibly fucked up, but it’s ours.

  “Let’s go,” I pant, breaking the kiss. “This place is one memory I’m happy not to remember.”

  Cayden rubs his nose against mine and nods.

  We walk back toward his truck, hand in hand. “Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat,” I reply, although my appetite is shot.

  Cayden senses my worry and stops me from getting into the truck. “Did I make a mistake in bringing you here?”

  “No.” I shake my head animatedly. “I’m glad that you did. Thank you. It’s helped me understand our past. I just hate that we’ve wasted so much time. That our lives have been shaped by others.”

  His shoulders rise as he sighs. “I know. Me too.”

  Will this feeling of remorse ever fade? When I think about what we did to Cayden’s dad, I know the answer is no. How can it? Look what we did.

  “Stop it,” Cayden says, gripping my chin and pinning me with a passionate stare. “He isn’t worth it. Trust me. It’s taken my whole life to realize that.”

  I’ll have to take his word for it. “Okay.” Tired of all the doom and gloom. I peck his lips before getting into the truck.

  “Do you feel like Chinese?”

  “Yes!” I exclaim, bouncing in my seat. “I love Chinese. But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  His smirk is all the answer I need.

  When he starts the engine and drives away, a weight is lifted from my shoulders because this place has me thankful that I don’t remember.

  Needing to focus on something else, I decide to talk about my home. “You’ll have to come over and look at the house. It’s looking really good.”

  Now that I know my house was once Cayden’s, it feels strange referring to it as mine.

  “Maybe after we eat?” he suggests. “You can give me the grand tour.”

  My cheeks instantly flush because the moment we step foot inside the bedroom, I am going to replace the bad memories with only the good. But I attempt to remain passive. “Sure.”

  When he clears his throat, I’m privy to what he wants to ask. “How’d it go with your mom?”

  I can’t stop the scoff which escapes me. “It went exactly how you think it did. I told her I knew everything.”

  “And?” he prompts gently.

  “And it’s clear my mother is a heartless bitch,” I reply without pause. “I told her”—I cast my eyes downward—“about the baby.”

  Cayden hisses softly, his pain evident. Nothing will ever take that heartache away, but I try to be strong. Even though I don’t remember, that doesn’t make this any easier to talk about.

  “I’m glad she knows because she can remain a forgotten memory. She’s dead to me.” I screw up my face, suddenly wishing I used another phrase.

  The truck falls silent because sometimes, this is just too much for us both.

  “I’ve been thinking about what our next step should be.”

  “I’m listening.” I turn in my seat to face him.

  His hands are tight around the steering wheel as he’s clearly tense. I suddenly get the feeling I won’t like what he has to say. “There was a guy, Benny, my dad knew—”

  But I’ve already heard enough. “Okay, stop. Anyone that your dad knew is someone we don’t want to know.”

  But Cayden shakes his head. “He wasn’t like the rest of them. When he stopped by, he used to bring Lacey and me candy or some cheap toy. When I was older, he was the one who gave me my first dirty magazine.”

  “I stand by my earlier comment,” I interrupt, shaking my head in disgust.

  But Cayden ignores me. “I know it doesn’t sound like it, but he actually seemed like an okay sort of guy.” I cock a brow in disbelief but allow him to continue. “Anyway, just after what happened with my father.” He swallows, while I steady my breathing. “Benny came around, looking for him. I of course told him that I hadn’t seen him and that I was certain he split. But Benny knew I was lying. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter, remember?”

  “What happened?” I ask, rubbing my sweaty palms together.

  “He told me my dad owed him a lot of money and that I was to call him when my dad returned. I never found out how Benny knew him, but it was evident Benny was someone you didn’t want to mess with. I found out how much and googled him. I knew his nickname was The Owl, so doing a basic search, I uncovered that Benny was my dad’s boss, I suppose you could say. He was caught and did time for extortion as well as some drug trafficking offenses.”

  My eyes widen as I don’t understand where he’s going with this.

  “He got out,” Cayden explains, filling in the blanks. “About a year ago. I’m sure he’s got a score to settle. If I were to call him and tell him about my dad—”

  “No, absolutely not!” I exclaim, sitting taller in my seat. “That is not going to happen. You’re not involving yourself with someone whose nickname is The Owl.”

  “I know it’s risky, but like I said, he never hurt Lacey or me, and he could have.”

  “Cayden, no way. I won’t cover one crime with another. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

  “Sometimes they do,” he rebukes, his jaw clenched.

  “No,” I repeat. “We will figure out another way, okay?”

  His eyes are focused ahead, but I don’t need to look into them to see the rage within.

  “Well, I’m all ears because I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Surely, we can explain to the police what we did. I mean, we were kids, and after what he did to us, they will understand.” I know what that means. It will drag up old memories for both Lacey and Cayden, but resorting to crime to cover another crime just doesn’t sit right with me.

  “We could,” Cayden says while hope rises. It deflates as soon as it appears. “But that’ll mean my dad’s old friends will know what we did. And trust me, they’ll ensure we pay. No one likes a rat. We’ll have a target on our backs. I can’t do that to you. Lacey. And more importantly, Ellie.”

  I don’t claim to understand the way of the crime world, but I know what Cayden says makes sense. And it makes me sick to my stomach. “Just, please, don’t do anything just yet. Let’s think of another way. There’s got to be another way,” I add, beseeching he sees reason.

  I don’t know what that is, but we will find a way. We have to.

  The silence overcomes us once again.

  My chest tightens, and I rub over my heart. I now understand why Cayden wanted to spare me this pain. If push came to shove, could I really do it? End Cayden’s dad’s life again? But for good this time?

  The ringing of Cayden’s cell is a welcomed distraction as the silence gives me the chills. He presses a button on the steering wheel to answer the call via Bluetooth. However, when Lacey’s frantic voice spills from the speakers, that welcome turns to dread.

  “Cayden! It’s on fire!”

  Fire? I spin to face Cayden, who looks at me, shrugging.

  “What’s on fire? Ace…”

  “Come home!” she screams, and when I hear the distinct sound of sirens, I know the fire is there.

  Home.

  “Peyton’s house is on fire!”

  I blink once, not believing what I’m hearing because there must be some mistake. But when Lacey says, “I called 911, but it’s bad. Please, come home,” it’s evident this is really happening.

  “We’re coming, Ace. Go someplace safe and tell Ellie I’m minutes away.” He hangs up, and I slam into the door when he pulls a violent U-turn, flooring it.

  The landscape passes me by in a blur, but even if Cayden wasn’t driving like a madman, I still wouldn’t be able to focus on the world surrounding me. My house is on fire? How is this possible? I turned everything off. I didn’t leave any candles burning, and I doubt any of my new appliances would have surged.

  That ominous shadow returns, and when I see Cayden white-knuckling the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight, I know he feels it too.

  “How did this happen?” I gasp, shaking my head in disbelief. “Cayden?”