chapter twelve

KEITH

Heat filled my body as I sat in my car, parked outside the Greys’ estate. I was thinking about her—yeah, her. My cousin’s fiancée. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Ever since I pulled her out of the water.

She said something when I pulled her out of the water.

"Please… save me… I—I don’t want to die. I can’t leave her alone.”

Those words kept replaying in my head like a damn loop I couldn’t shut off. Can’t leave her alone? Who was “her”?

I leaned in a little, and just like that—flash. A picture hit me. Not a memory exactly, more like a scene I wasn’t sure was mine.

Her—but not her. But she looked different. Blonde curls, laughing like she was full of sunlight. Nothing like the girl I see now. It didn’t make sense.

None of it did.

My head started pounding so bad I couldn’t stay that night. I left without saying anything to Logan, got home, and dropped into bed. It happened again, but now it was a dream. Longer, clearer. it felt… real.

She was running on a beach, laughing, barefoot, wind catching her dress. That same smile. The kind that made you want to laugh too, even if you had no idea why.

And for a second—I swear—it felt like I’d been there with her.

Like I knew her.

Really knew her.

And now I don’t know what the hell to do with that.

We definitely knew each other before I lost my memories, and I didn't need anyone to confirm that; I could feel it, deep down, like something sitting just under my skin waiting to be pulled out. It had been five years since the accident and every time I tried to force a memory, visit places I’d supposedly been, nothing came, just blank space and dead ends. I eventually stopped trying, told myself to move on since my aunt had already told me everything I needed to know, and for a while, I believed that was enough. But then I saw her.

From the very first moment, there was something about her, something that tugged at something I couldn’t name. I didn’t know what it was exactly, but I knew it wasn’t new. It felt familiar. I tried to brush it off, told myself I was imagining things, or maybe I just liked her face, and that was trouble since she was going to be Logan's wife soon. But then she looked at me with those eyes—like I did something bad to her.

I needed to know what it was. Why did she look at me like I did something bad to her? And maybe I did. Maybe before I lost my memories, I hurt her in a way I don’t remember now.

She might be the only one who can make me remember everything. And I needed those memories—not just because of her, but for me. Because this wasn't about some girl I couldn't stop thinking about.

This was about revenge.

My mom died because of a man. A powerful one. A cruel one. A man who couldn’t handle a woman who wouldn’t fold to him.

Raymond Dakota.

The same man had people follow and torment her… until one night, she was found brain-dead in a foreign hospital. That same night, I got into an accident and lost everything. My name, my memories—my mom.

When I woke up in the hospital, my aunt told me everything. She told me who I was. Who my mother was. And who I needed to destroy. I came back for one reason. To make Raymond pay, but then Liana happened. His daughter.

The girl with eyes full of fire and pain. The girl I couldn't stop remembering in pieces. The girl who might be connected to the very past I’ve been trying to drag out of the shadows.

It was a twisted fate.

She was the last person I should be thinking about. And the first phase of my plan can’t start until I figure out what we are to each other.

I noticed a car pulling in. My chest tightened the second I saw her step out. Liana.

The second she stepped out, my body moved before my brain could catch up. I got out of mine and crossed the distance, every step pulling tighter with something I couldn’t explain. She had answers—I could feel it. And I needed them more than I needed air.

I didn’t have a plan, not a solid one anyway, just the same loop of questions running in my head. But all of them disappeared the moment she looked at me.

Those eyes. I swear, they were the kind of blue that could wreck a man. And in that second, I forgot why I came, forgot the things I was supposed to say.

She started walking past me, and before I could think it through, I moved. I stopped right in front of her.

She halted, lifting her brows slightly like she was confused, but the second passed and they dropped, her whole expression shifting to something colder.

That was all the confirmation I needed. She knew me.

Not just knew me—but really knew me. And not in the polite, hi-we-just-met way.

No. This was personal.

Because no one looks at a stranger like that.

“You okay?” I asked, voice lower than I meant it to be. “You almost—”

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice cold as ice.

She walked past, and I don’t know what got into me, but the words slipped out.

“You shouldn’t be so cold to your saviour.”

That made her stop.

She turned around slowly, eyes finding mine.

“Saviour?” She opened her mouth to say something but decided not to.

She took a step toward me. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mr. Cross.”

I blinked, completely thrown.

“And don’t talk to me like this again. Ever. Especially not alone.” Then she turned and walked straight into the house, the door clicking shut behind her.

I stood there.

For someone I wasn’t supposed to know, she sure made me feel like the villain in a story I didn’t remember writing.