Page 13 of Broken Strings

Fuck. Of course she's at that prick's house.

Half an hour later, I kill the lights, parking outside Lionel Cordova's mansion. It's eerie how goddamn familiar it is. My mind has been a great big blank for so long. But everything is snapping into place in a way that's jarring. Like the pieces of a puzzle that got jumbled up and simply need a little readjusting.

I don't know what the fuck to do with that. I don't know how to feel about it. Four hours ago, I knew nothing about my past. I had the image of a woman and a hole in my heart, and that was it. Now, I think about something, and the pieces suddenly…appear. Like they were never missing at all.

This is one of them. I know every inch of this house. I walked these halls for eight months, memorized every creaking floorboard, every hiding spot. I fucked Mina in every goddamn alcove we came across, unable to keep my hands off her.

The house is as gaudy and ostentatious now as it was then, a bully's show of wealth. Don't know why I ever thought Lionel Cordova could make my dreams come true. I guess when you spend the night sleeping on a park bench, any millionaire who comes along, offering you a way out, seems like a sure bet. I wanted to believe what he was telling me, that there was something better out there for me. That he could save me, make something out of me.

Instead, his daughter did it. She turned me into a man, showed me what I wanted in life, who I wanted to be. And fuck, the only thing I ever wanted was to be a motherfucker she could be proud of, something worthy of her. I never was. I knew it then. So did her father. But I was determined to become that man for her.

How did it get so fucked up?

"Lionel," I mutter. All roads lead back here, to him. I took his daughter. He took my life. How the fuck am I supposed to tell her that? How the fuck am I supposed to convince her of the truth? I still can't give her what she deserves. Financially, I'm better off than I was back then. But a place like this? Influence? Power? I can't give her that.

I slam my head back against the headrest, muttering a curse as I stare out at the house. The lights are on in a bedroom upstairs—her room. After a moment, I see a shadow shift in front of the window and sit up straight.

It's her.

Fuck.

My breath stalls in my throat as I watch her pace back and forth across her bedroom. Even from here, I feel her restlessness, her anxiety. My goddamn feet tap against the floorboard, desperate to go to her. To hold her like I always did when she was restless or anxious about something.

But…I fucking can't. Not yet.

Cash said there are things I don't know. Important things.

What? I don't know, but I need to find out. Because if I'm waging war against her goddamn father, I need every weapon I can get. I'm not just taking her back. I'm taking the motherfucker down.

I'm still sitting right fucking there when the sun comes up. I tried to leave after Mina's light went out around three in the morning, but I couldn't pull myself away. No part of me wanted to go.

So I just fucking…sat. All goddamn night.

I'm still sitting when her light clicks on. Just staring at the house, replaying every single memory I have of her. She thinks I left her, and in a way, she's right. I decided to go that day. Something told me not to do it, but I went anyway. And I didn't willingly spend the last six years away from her. But I forgot her. How the fuck do I blame her for hating me when part of me hates me for it too? You aren't supposed to be able to forget a love like this. And yet…I did.

All this time, I've wondered what unforgivable sin I committed, what I did to deserve to have everything ripped away. That right there is it. I forgot her. I let her memory get lost in the fog, destroyed by some goddamn medical phenomenon no one even fully understands. Her father, his henchmen, and my own damn mind stole her from me. And I couldn't pull her memories out of the void. I wasn't strong enough.

All I had were glimmers, and it wasn't enough. I should have fought harder, killed and maimed if that's what it took. Instead, I hopped back up on that goddamn stage like a lost little boy, and hoped she'd find me. She needed me, cried for me, and I didn't even remember her.

If she ever forgives me, I'm not so sure I'll be able to forgive myself.

"Mommy, hurry up!"

I jolt upright, gripping the steering wheel as a little girl bursts out of the house, a backpack bouncing on her back. Bright red hair curls around her cherubic face…a face so fucking much like Mina's, it's unreal.

"I'm gonna be late!"

"Don't rush me, Brinley Grace!" Mina shouts back, appearing in the doorway, dressed in a white blouse and A-line skirt. She looks exhausted, like she didn't sleep at all. But standing nextto her daughter…fuck. There's no mistaking that the little girl is hers.

Which means…

The day I left, I thought she might be…I hoped she was…

"No," I whisper, an agonized, pained sound.

Oh, God, no.

That little girl is mine.