LOGINCuatro años de silencio. Una memoria borrada. Una deuda que se pagará con piel. Kurt Spencer entró en prisión como un artista y salió como un arma. Traicionado por la justicia en manos del hombre que le robó la libertad y abandonado por la mujer que juró amarlo, Kurt solo tiene un objetivo. Reclamar lo que es suyo. Leah Neville vive una vida perfecta junto al fiscal estrella de la ciudad. No tiene recuerdos, no tiene pasado, y no sabe que su "esposo perfecto" es el carcelero de su mente. Pero cuando un fantasma de ojos gélidos la arrastra a las sombras, su cuerpo reconoce lo que su mente olvidó. Él no busca perdón. Ella no recuerda el pecado. "Lo juraste, Leah. Y las promesas hechas en mi cama se cumplen... o se destruyen". ¿Podrá Kurt recuperar los recuerdos de la mujer que ama o sucumbira ante el deseo y olvidará por que volvió?
View MoreMy life has never been my own. When I was 8 years old, I had an accident that split my family in two but it was already broken before that. My dad wasn't the best person or dad. He had a dangerous past that came for our family. My mom divorced him and then he just disappeared from our lives. I had an aunt that I met briefly and an uncle I never knew. Of course, I don't blame my mother but ever since I was 8, we have been constantly on the move.
My mom didn't fancy me living alone and her work was very important to her. So we moved to White Lake. A big enough town that was split in two, to house an unofficial area called Black Pond. Let's just say, it was much like the parliament of small countries. One town with two opposing districts that constantly vie for dominance. On one side was the Privitels and on the other was the Vicisski. The districts were separated by a legendary bridge, on one side was water as black as night and the other was as white as limestone. No one knew the true story of the water but I imagined that it was one to draw a crowd.My mother and I lived with her sister, Aunty Ciara. She was nice, my favourite aunt even though I didn't know the other all that well. My aunt was expecting twins in a few months. Her husband, Rapheal was a sweetheart quitting his well paid job for an online teaching gig in order to take care of her. I had 3 cousins, Katrina, who was more like a sister and the twins, who weren't actually twins but everybody treated them as such. Kat was fortunate to get into an elite private school, close to Rafael's mothers home. That was where she spent most of her weekends. I was so jealous of her since I got stuck with White Lake High.White Lake High was the bane of my existence from the moment I stepped foot into the building I have had a bad feeling. The way most of the students stared at me was enough to awaken my anxiety. Though that was just at the edge. I was alright with having some drama queens whisper my name under their breath and have some jocks look at me like a piece of meat but to have the vice principal constantly picking on me and accusing me of things that I didn't do rubbed me the wrong way.Though after 6 months of constant torment and detentions, yet zero suspension or expulsion, I have decided to lay low for this term. Hopefully, I won't get into any more trouble.I sighed and pulled my bag closer to me. The blue and white halls were bustling with teens. Chatting with one another about how their summer went and gossiping about the latest hot gossip. Essentially, 'Dimples'. Every step I took there was a murmur of that name. A partial photograph and a song which was mildly inappropriate and this man went viral in under 12 hours- correction boy. So many hormonal teenagers had hopped on the 'D' train faster than I could say 'fly'. Merchandize was printed and sold at insane prices within 2 days.I questioned the sanity of parents of teenagers and the content that they let their kids stream. I don't know if you've noticed but I wasn't his biggest fan, in fact I blame him for the majority of the detentions that I had received during summer school.I rolled my eyes and pushed harder through the crowd. The faster that I got to class, the faster I would get away from the brain cell deterioration called high school gossip but as always, fate had other plans."Who do you think you are texting my future boyfriend like that," a high pitched and very annoying voice yelled from down the corridor. A few students had paused the traffic of the hallway to watch the encounter.I was so close to my classroom, so pushed forcefully against the bodies, my face contorting with discomfort every step of the way. I stepped out into a little space just before my classroom door. I realised that the person who was yelling was Angela Roberts, Queen Bee of White Lake High School. She was Barbie's twin sister or should I say, Barbie's evil, stupid twin. Since the moment 'D' blew up, she has been calling him her future boyfriend, the partial face of a teenage boy. She was arguing with Melanie Green, head cheerleader of the cheerleading team, who was currently dating the golden boy, Kyle Summers. Scandalous!"Um, I don't see your name written on him," Melanie replied sneakily.I sighed as I stared through the space between their bodies. The door was closed but standing on my toes I could see the teacher walking around and handing out papers."Uhm, excuse me," I tried to say politely. Why was I even trying to be nice?"You know that I have a crush on him you bitch," Angela screamed at Melanie. I cringed at the frequency. I was not aware that the walls to this school were soundproof."You barely know him, you psycho and unlike you, he actually replied to one of my texts," Melanie said and a series of 'ooh burn' followed. I was sure that the response wasn't suddenly relationship status."Yeah, and I could care less. So if it's not too much, could you Barbie's take your conversation elsewhere. I'm trying to get to class," I snapped as the first bell rang."Who are you calling a Barbie, you hobo," Melanie said, her face contorted with disgust.I mean with my baggy jeans, oversized hoodie and run down converse, I do agree with her but that wasn't a very nice thing to say. Also Barbie was a well put together and distinguished figure. That doll has more PHDs than all that exists in the world."Oh, just the two girls with less self respect than the fly that lands on anything it sees," I retorted, gaining a few snickers and oohs. I was truly surprised that anyone got that joke."What's going on here," the voice of the vice principal suddenly sliced through the laughs of the crowd that immediately dispersed. Here, we go again."Mommy," Angela suddenly ran towards the vice principal, my brows raised in genuine surprise. Melanie rolled her eyes."That girl was bullying us. She called me a slut," she exclaimed to her mommy."Are you serious," I said, trying to defend myself. I mean I did but I didn't use that word."Be quiet," Mrs. Roberts boomed, finally gaining Mr. Crews attention.She glanced me up and down with disdain and then peered into my eyes with hatred. "You must be the new student Kelly McHale. She said my name with so much hate, I thought that she would barf. I've been here for 6 months and right now she sounds like a broken record."Like Father, like daughter," she commented under her breath.I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head slightly. What the hell does she know about my dad?"You just got yourself another detention, missy," she said before ushering away Melanie and Angela.Mr. Crews opened the door and I walked in with a word. I took a seat at the back of the class and stared at the paper in front of me. I was so tempted to roll it into a ball and hit him over the head. I took deep breaths to calm myself.So maybe I did deserve this one.POV LEAH Me quedé allí, en el umbral de la libertad, con el corazón martilleando contra mis costillas como un animal enjaulado. Miré el camino que se perdía entre los árboles, el camino que me devolvería a la Señora Grayson, a las cenas de gala y al silencio sepulcral de mi mansión. Luego miré hacia la casa, donde el hombre que realmente me conocía se estaba desmoronando. —Lo siento... lo siento mucho, Peter —susurré al viento, como un último adiós a la mujer que fingí ser. Extendí la mano y presioné el botón del panel. El pitido del cierre resonó como un disparo. El portón se selló con un golpe metálico definitivo. Antes de que pudiera procesar la magnitud de mi elección, un estruendo de vidrios rotos y un grito ronco, cargado de una rabia dolorosa, escapó desde el interior de la cabaña. Entré corriendo. El suelo de la cocina era un campo de batalla: platos hechos añicos y restos de comida esparcidos por doquier. Kurt estaba apoyado contra la encimera, con las manos sujetando
POV LEAH Hoy el día se sentía tan liviano, como si este fuera mi lugar, el único en el que realmente debería estar. Lo más extraño es que era un lugar completamente desconocido, y no me había atrevido a preguntar si ya había estado antes aquí o si también era un lugar nuevo para él. Me sentía tan libre, tan viva. No recuerdo la última vez que tuve la libertad de ser solo yo, de reír a mi manera, de hablar cuando lo quería y no tener que callar lo que me disgustaba. Con Kurt no había prohibiciones, no había regaños y mucho menos sonrisas forzadas. Más bien, creo que nunca he tenido esa libertad con Peter. "Kurt Spencer". Me repetía ese nombre a diario en las noches, tratando de que algún recuerdo, alguna imagen o quizás alguna frase que compartimos tiempo atrás, volviera a mí. Quería recordar, quería tener esa vida que parecía que nunca viví, pero que era tan real en su mirada que lograba estremecerme. Me incorporé de la cama y bostecé al ver el reloj y notar que eran pasad
POV PETER GRAYSONLa perfección no es un accidente; es una disciplina. Una que he cultivado cada segundo de mi vida desde que comprendí que el mundo se divide entre los que imponen la norma y los que se arrodillan ante ella.Me miré al espejo del baño de mi despacho, ajustando el nudo de mi corbata de seda con una precisión milimétrica. Ni un cabello fuera de lugar, ni una mancha en la solapa. Fuera de estas cuatro paredes, soy el Fiscal de Distrito, el epítome de la rectitud, el hombre que la ciudad observa con una mezcla de respeto y temor. Pero dentro, en el centro de mi pecho, la furia bullía como ácido, amenazando con perforar mi máscara de porcelana.Catorce días. Trescientos treinta y seis horas sin Leah.Caminé hacia mi escritorio, donde una fotografía de nuestra boda descansaba en un marco de plata. La miré fijamente. Ella lucía tan etérea, tan... moldeada. No me tomó nada borrar la aspereza de su carácter, esa rebeldía barata que traía de los suburbio y del estudio de aq
POV KURTEl sonido de sus sollozos atravesaba las paredes de madera como si fueran de papel. Cada gemido ahogado de Leah era un clavo ardiendo hundiéndose en mi conciencia. Me quedé en el pasillo, con los puños cerrados y la mandíbula tensa, debatiéndome entre la furia por el pasado y la angustia por su presente. Quería destrozar a Peter Grayson por haberle hecho esto, pero en ese instante, mi única prioridad era que ella no se terminara de romper.No lo soporté más. Subí los escalones de dos en dos, impulsado por una urgencia que me quemaba las entrañas. Me detuve frente a su puerta y toqué con suavidad, aunque mis nudillos temblaban.—Leah... por favor, responde al menos —supliqué.Silencio. Solo el eco de su respiración entrecortada me devolvía el saludo. Volví a tocar, esta vez con más insistencia. Sentía una mezcla de dolor y preocupación que me nublaba el juicio. Verla derrumbarse así por culpa de las fotos había sido un golpe que no calculé bien.—También me duele, Leah —s






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