Page 22 of Never the Same

“Tattoo,” I reminded myself, becoming concerned at how forgetful I was.

I only had a few memories to cling to from the last twenty-four hours, and I couldn’t afford to lose those, too.

Shifting to the side, I lifted my shirt, my pulse quickening.

The so-called family crest was there.

It was real, like a brand, and I belonged to a secret society I didn’t remember joining.

What had initiation been like? Did it happen via the birth canal, or did I have to go through a series of tests to prove myself worthy?

I was getting ahead of myself, trying to fill in the blanks to the story of my life. If I wasn’t careful, I might mix up reality with movies I could frustratingly still remember.

Shirt back in place, I dropped my head into my hands, my temples throbbing. “Get it together.” Get what together? You don’t know who you even freaking are. My inner voice hit me back with enough sass to send my head upright, hands falling. Talk about feeling split in two and not recognizing either half.

I needed answers. Something to click. I also needed to get out of this room.

I didn’t make it down the hall too far before I heard voices.

The carpet runner was thick beneath my feet, the scent of lemon oil trailing behind me as I tracked down whoever was talking.

I stopped outside an open door and listened in. There was a woman speaking, but she didn’t sound physically present. Over speakerphone, maybe.

I peeked around the corner, locating only one of four men I recognized. Jason Reed. The man who’d defied my broody-grouchy brother and also managed to steady my pulse with his presence.

Reed noticed me within a second and set his laptop on a coffee table and stood. “Hi,” he mouthed, brows slanting with the same concerned expression he’d hit me with in the bedroom.

A guy on the phone slowly turned around as if catching on to the fact Reed was distracted by someone or something. “I’m going to have to call you back. Love you.” He ended the call as the two other men in the room redirected their attention my way.

“Come in.” Phone Guy waved me over.

I scanned the space, uncertain whether it was the best idea to be alone with three strangers, even if the fourth man in the office was oddly familiar for some reason.

“It’s okay.” At Reed’s words, I took my first hesitant step across the threshold into the space, which appeared modern in comparison to the rest of what little I’d seen of the home so far.

Sleek furniture, smooth lines, and minimalistic black-and-gray everything. Even the book spines on the shelves were color coded and divided into three categories: gray, grayer, and grayest.

“Hi.” That awkward hello was for Reed and him alone. How do I know you aside from punching you on the street? He smiled while running a hand through his hair.

“I’m Alejandro Rodriguez.” Phone Guy broke through my staring contest with Reed while offering his hand. “You can call me Alex.”

“And who are you to me?” I folded my arms, remaining close to the doorway since there were still three obstacles in my way to the only one I seemed interested in talking to.

“I’m married to your best friend, Audrey,” Alex said as if that’d explain everything.

Nope, it explained absolutely nothing.

Another man stepped up alongside Alex and tugged at the brim of his black ball cap. “Audrey’s my sister. I’m Ryder Lawson.”

Okay, maybe we were getting somewhere now, but I kept my guarded position. “And you are?” I asked the only one with visible tattoos.

“Trevor Sloane.” A slight smile cut across his mouth. “I’m Audrey’s ex-husband, and the father of our son, Chase.”

“So Audrey connects you all, and she’s my best friend, so that’s why you’re here—because I was taken?”

Ryder nodded. “Quick study.”

More like still playing thirty-four years of catch-up. “What about you? What’s your relation to Audrey?” I peeked around the wall of three men, searching out Reed.