Chapter 12: I Only Want You to Remember

Evelyn's Point of View

I couldn't stop crying. The questions had stopped coming, but they were still echoing in my head, and my breath kept hitching until I thought I might black out.

Then the door slammed open.

The bang made me flinch hard. I curled tighter into the chair.

"Out." Sebastian's voice was low and savage, and when I peeked up, his eyes were red as blood. The single word seemed to press the air flat. The doctors scrambled for the door, practically tripping over each other.

Through the gap, I caught Winston's voice, pleading and breathless. "Sir, she's too frail, she can't take any more." Then the door shut, and it was just the two of us.

Sebastian crossed the room in three strides. "Evie," he said, softly now.

I shook harder and tried to make myself smaller. Curling up was pure instinct, the kind no one ever outgrows.

"Don't be afraid." He pulled me into his arms and patted my back in slow, steady strokes. He sounded hurt, and a little helpless. "I watched all of it on the screen, you know. My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I wanted to stop it at the first question, and I couldn't." His voice cracked. "Evie, I only wanted you to remember."

I remained silent and afraid.

"Remember the good times. For three years, those memories were the only thing that kept me alive. I was a walking corpse, and I held onto them anyway."

The grief in it was too raw to miss. Something in my fear softened into pity, and I found myself thinking, He must have loved that woman very much.

I looked up at him. My eyes were swollen like walnuts, and my voice came out in broken pieces. "I... it's not... I didn't..."

"I know. It's my fault. I know you really don't remember." He stroked the top of my head like I was a child, tender and aching. It occurred to me that he looked like a man who had never bowed his head to anyone.

His kindness set off a fresh wave of tears. "Hic... you don't... believe me."

"I do. I was wrong. I shouldn't have doubted my Evie." He wiped at my cheeks, but the tears fell faster than he could catch them.

I went stiff as a puppet. I could barely see him through the blur. "Really?"

"Really." He raised a hand. "I swear it, Evie. From now on I'll believe you. If I break this vow, may heaven strike me down."

The first time he apologized, I hadn't heard. The second time, I thought I was imagining it. It was the solemn oath that finally got through.

The terror that had been spiraling out of control quieted, steadied by his promise.

"Don't swear... so easily," I whispered, hiccuping between the words.

"Okay," Sebastian said. The corner of his mouth lifted, and the smile that followed was tender and indulgent, with a trace of quiet satisfaction in it. "Even without remembering me, you still care."

My face went hot. "I only..." I stammered.

He didn't let me finish. His mouth covered mine, soft and coaxing, and the tenderness of it swallowed my thoughts whole. I forgot what I'd been about to say. I was dizzy, and the only thing left was the sweetness he wanted me to taste.

How can one man be half angel, half devil? And the worst part was that, whichever one he was at the moment, he had me completely.

"So sweet." His fingertip wandered over my lips, and his smile turned wicked.

I didn't dare look up. I burrowed into his chest instead.

"Good girl. Now say you love me." He tipped up my small chin. His eyes were dark, and the heat in them settled on my mouth.

I bit my lip and let my gaze skitter away.

Is he joking? I'm not out of my mind. I'm not going to love the man who took me by force.

"The Evie from three years ago looked exactly like you," he said quietly. "The only difference is how you feel about me." He sighed and tightened his arms around me, and each word came out like a vow. "You will fall in love with me again, Evelyn Hart."

I pretended I hadn't heard, though something fluttered treacherously in my chest.

His devotion was moving, and that was the problem. But I wasn't the woman he thought I was. When he finally realized it, I would be facing the other side of him, the devil.

"Sooner or later, you'll admit you love me." There was no room for argument in his voice.

I pretended to be deaf and let my eyes drift around the room.

Ha. I'd have to be haunted to love him. I had already scouted the house. All I needed now was a chance to run.

"Get ready." His expression changed. The softness drained out, and what replaced it was mockery and contempt, as if he were a king looking down from a throne. "I'm taking you to see a show."

"Now?" I blinked. "What kind of show?"

"Settling accounts." He pinched my cheek. His fingers lingered on the soft skin as if he'd have liked to do a good deal more.

"Settling what accounts?" I stared at him, confused.

"With the person who drugged you." His smile was cold.

My breath stopped.

Drugged me? He meant that the reason I'd ended up with him that night was that someone had drugged me?

The shock of it left me speechless. How could that be? Who would do that to me?

"Don't be afraid." He patted the back of my hand and smiled gently. "Anyone who dared to hurt you will wish they were never born."

He was smiling, but the cruelty under it was naked. My mind was a tangle, and yet some small part of me felt, absurdly, safe.

He says he'll find whoever did this and make them pay. Is that real? Then I shook my head. No. He isn't doing it for me. It's for his pride as a man.