Page 33 of Condemned By Betrayal
“No. I just hate them in my food,” he murmurs, his focus returning to me.
I frown. “Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“How so?”
“The psychiatrist said something might have happened before I lost my memory that I hated too much. The memory of it is gone, but the effect it left is still there.”
The bowl in my hand almost slips. His words rebound through my head like he said them standing beside me on thecliff I went to throw myself from, and now their echo keeps coming back, keeping me from stepping off.
“You—you lost your memory? When?” I stammer, my chest tight.
“In an accident. A year and a half ago. Logan and I both lost our memory.”
I clench the trembling bowl tightly, only to realize it’s my hands that are trembling, not the bowl. All this sounds like too much of a coincidence. A year and a half ago, Salvario went missing, and that’s the same time Hunter had an accident that took his memory. And not just him, but Logan as well. Apart from his changed features and the absence of torture marks on his hands—and I’m sure all over his body—he’s everything Salvario.
Hunter
I lied to her about the timeline. It happened a year ago, not a year and a half, but that aligns the accident with the time Salvario went missing. From the pallor of her face, I can tell she’s connecting all those dots well.
But there’s one thing I didn’t lie about: my hatred of nuts in food. And knowing she’s allergic to them is starting to gnaw at me.
She’s allergic to nuts; I hate them. She’s a pianist; I love it. She has brown hair and brown eyes; I’ve been searching for every girl with those features.
The reason behind all my unknown hatreds and obsessions is her. The psychiatrist Logan and I saw briefly after our memory loss said there was a root to it all. Now I can see it.
There’s only one explanation—I knew her before I lost my memory. But how? I’ll find out. Chris will tell me before he meets his end.
“How do you know you’re Hunter Blackwood if you’ve lost your memory?”
I’ve done the investigation, but I won’t tell her that.
“The man who saved us told us.”
She sets the bowl on the table, it was about to fall any moment anyway.
“And you believed him?” she asks, turning fully toward me.
“We worked for him before losing our memory. He has proof, including photos.”
“Can I see your old photos?”
I nod and pull out my phone. From the photos we’ve gathered so far, I pick the one that resembles my current face the least and hold it out to her. She’s shaking, I feel it as she takes the phone from my hand.
She frowns. “You don’t have the same eyes.”
I knew it. She’d pick on my eyes. I don’t even have the same face. It’s the photo angle.
She extends the phone toward me. “Show me another.”
I take the phone and pull up another one that resembles me the least and hold it out.
She pulls her trembling lower lip between her teeth, then looks up at me. Her eyes are wet.It took so little to convince her.I push down the guilt creeping up my throat, clawing at it.
She hands the phone back to me. I take it, my gaze dropping away.
I look back at her as she starts speaking in a small voice. “When Salvario kidnapped me, his maids schemed against me and fed me nuts. I almost lost my life that day.”
