Remorse (Rhodes #0.5) by Rina Kent

She checks something on the machines around me and nods to herself with a smile. “I’ll call Dr. Anderson. Do you need anything?”

I attempt to shake my head, but the stabbing pain at my nape stops me.

When I say nothing, she asks, “How do you feel?”

“Like hell,” I grunt in a scratchy, barely alive voice. “Have I been in hell?”

“You’ve been so lucky, dear. You gave us a fright.” She smiles and leans in to whisper, “Your fiancé hasn’t left your side the entire time.”

I have a fiancé?

No, that can’t be right. I don’t have a fiancé. I don’t have anyone.

Wrong. Everything is just so wrong.

“It’s rare to see that kind of devotion in college kids these days.”

College.

Okay, so my name is Reina Ellis, I’m in college, and I have a fiancé.

Did I mention wrong?

None of this adds up in my brain…or is it still trying to keep up with reality?

When I raise my eyes again, the kind Asian nurse isn’t speaking to me anymore. Her attention is on something—or rather, someone—over my head. “Congratulations on your fiancée’s recovery, Mr. Carson.”

“Thank you.”

My spine locks and a shiver shoots down my back, covering my entire body.

The rough, deep voice with the slight huskiness.

The nightmare voice.

The one who called me a monster and…something else.

There was something else, but I’ve forgotten what it was.

Hell, I’ve forgotten a lot of things.

I don’t even remember why I’m here, my age, or my damn name.

Everything is a blur. It’s like I can reach the answer, but the moment my fingertips brush against it, it turns into fog.

The nurse says something else, but I miss her words—again, my brain has trouble keeping up. Everything happens too fast, like in some futuristic show.

Wait, are we in a Black Mirror episode?

How do I even know Black Mirror and not my own life?

The last thing I focus on is the door hissing open then closed behind the nurse.

My throat chooses this exact moment to become scratchy and sour. I glance to the side, searching for water.

A bottle sits on a small table, and I reach my arm out to grab it.

Huge mistake.

Something in my right shoulder pops and pain explodes in my muscles. I groan and bite down on my lower lip to stifle the sound.

Pain is temporary. Pain is temporary.

Mom’s words echo in my head like a mantra.

I blink twice. I remember having a mother.

That’s the first thing I’ve remembered since waking up in this sterilized room.

“Look who returned to the world of the living.”

My movements freeze as that same voice echoes around me. I forgot he was still in the room in the first place.

I don’t hear the sound of footsteps or feel him approaching.

The attack is silent and fast. One moment I’m thinking the nightmare is a reality, and the next, a broad, tall figure looms over my bed.

You know that color a tropical forest has when it’s raining heavily? That’s the color of his eyes. Dark green, almost black.

Harsh.

Emotionless.

There’s something about those eyes that pushes me into a high-alert mode.

I want to run.

I want to hide.

But I can’t. Something tells me it’s not only because of my physical injuries. I’m unable to run from him.

He’s wearing a simple white T-shirt and a black leather jacket along with dark jeans. His hair is the color of a moonless night with a bluish hue. It’s short on the sides and long enough in the middle to be tousled.

The straight, chiseled jawline and the thick brows give him a fatally attractive edge—the kind serial killers have.

His broad shoulders and lean waist increase the intimidation of his already dark exterior tenfold.

Well, the physique is understandable. After all, he’s an athlete who slaves at the gym and practices constantly.

Wait—how do I know that?

His upper lip lifts in a cruel smirk as if he injected all the shadows in it. “I knew you would come back.”

Unlike the nurse, he doesn’t seem relieved about that. No. He’s like a hunter who’s closely observing his prey right before the attack.

A lightning strike right before the thunder.

The click of a gun right before the shot.

Suddenly, I wish I’d surrendered to the darkness of unconsciousness. That type of darkness is better than this one.

Don’t they say some monsters are better than others?

His hand reaches out for me and I instinctively push against the pillow. Pain explodes in my head and my upper shoulder, but I don’t stop.

I need to stay away from his hold.

Run.

Run!

My instinct has caught up with my slow brain and is now shouting at me to get the hell out of here.

In my condition, it’s impossible to move a muscle, let alone run.

I glance behind me at the emergency call button. Maybe if I ask the kind nurse, she can remove him from my side. Maybe someone can help me.

Because I need help right now.

I can feel it in my bones and taste it on my tongue.

He releases a tsking sound that gets past my ears and embeds under my skin. “No one will save you. It’s just you and me.”