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And I got the sense that she needed my help.
Our help.
“What are you thinking about?” Damien asked, unease creeping into his otherwise soothing voice.
“Us,” I said, lacing my fingers through his. “Do you remember the day we met? We made magic wands out of sticks and hid behind that tree because we were so afraid of the witch.” I smiled and pointed at the massive oak next to us. “I thought you were the handsomest boy I’d ever seen. You didn’t speak back then, not a word, but I didn’t care. I thought it was because you were a fairy, but …” I shook my head as a new set of memories rose to the surface. My throat became tight with emotion. “Oh, Damien, the things he did to you …”
Damien didn’t reply. He simply pressed his lips to the top of my head and listened. Pushing his tragic past to the side, I tried to focus instead on the woods. On our happy place.
“When you got older, you hung a rope swing from that tree and did back flips into the lake. I never told you, but I was so impressed.”
My gaze traveled to the lake, where a shroud of mist had already settled over the surface. “And we had our first kiss right there. The sun was setting, and the water turned pink and orange. Remember? That’s when Saoirse gave us these.” I lifted my left hand and wiggled my ring finger.
“God, I missed you.” Turning in his arms, I curled toward his bare chest and pressed my lips to the side of his neck. “I think I was born missing you, Kellen.”
The moment I said his former name, Damien bristled, his arms tensing around my body.
“Come on, angel,” he said, kissing the top of my head again. “Let’s get you dressed and see if we can find our way back to the train station. We can sleep there tonight and catch the first train to Shannon in the morning.”
What?
Lifting my head, I met Damien’s concerned gaze with one of bewilderment. “What are you talking about? We just got here. There’s so much more I want to see. Like the cottage where we used to play. Remember the cottage? Kellen, it was your favorite place in the whole world.”
Damien frowned before smoothing out his features and running a hand over my damp hair. “Darlin’,” he said, using a voice that made me feel like a child, “you’ve never been here before. Neither of us has. All these things that feel so familiar to you … they’re from stories. Fairy-tale books.”
His words landed in my gut harder than the boots that had kicked me the day before in Mr. McCormick’s field.
“I know,” I hissed, trying to keep the hurt and anger out of my voice. “I wrote them.”
Damien’s face fell. He was the picture of heartbreak as his sad eyes bored into mine. “Angel,” he said softly, lifting me into his arms as he stood, “I need you to listen to me.”
I couldn’t see his face as he carried me over to the tree where our clothes lay scattered on the bank of the lake, but I could feel his heart. It was fucking pounding.
“You didn’t write those books. They were published before you were born. And your name isn’t Darby. It’s Clover. I think this place is fucking with our minds, and we need to go. Now.”
“Go?” I wriggled out of his embrace, forcing him to set me down so that I could turn to face him. “How can you say that after everything Saoirse just showed us?”
I jerked a hand in the direction of the lake as Damien zipped his trousers and fastened his belt. Then, he took my face in his hands and kissed my frowning mouth.
I jerked away, fighting the urge to slap him.
Without another word, Damien picked my sopping wet dress up off the ground and began wringing the excess water out of it.
“You didn’t see it.” I shook my head, eyes wide and horrified. “No. No, that’s impossible. How did you not see it?”
Damien held the dress out to me, but I refused to take it, standing naked and confused and crestfallen in front of him.
“How?” I demanded, but Damien just ignored me and began dressing me himself.
Kneeling before me, he lifted each of my legs, forcing me to step into my underwear before sliding a soggy runner onto each foot.
“I think it was oxygen deprivation, Clo,” he finally said, rising to his feet to help me with my bra.
I glared at him as he slid the straps up my arms, avoiding my gaze by stepping behind me to fasten the clasp.
“So, you did see something,” I snapped, cutting him with my tone since I couldn’t reach him with my stare.
“I don’t know what I saw.”
