“You are the lovely Ramie Elizabeth Price. Daughter of Dr. Margot Price and Senator Bigelow Price. You live in East Palm Cove, about an hour from here. You were enrolled in art school, and you were supposed to start in the fall. You and I were going to backpack around Europe for the summer first, but then you disappeared.”
I had a name.
Ramie. Ramie. Ramie.
“Ramie,” I whispered, testing the name out on my tongue.
Still nothing.
“I went to the police. They said no one was looking for me. No missing person’s report. Why didn’t you look for me if I was missing?” I asked.
Tanner shook his head. “I didn’t want to have to be the one to tell you this, but you had this friend, and she was going through some bad stuff. She got in trouble a lot. You left a note, said you were running away. They didn’t look for you because they didn’t think you wanted to be found. You had just turned eighteen. You were an adult. There was no missing person’s report because you weren’t missing. You were just gone.”
“I left?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“I left you?”
“Yeah,” he admitted. “You left me. And your mom. And your dad. Everyone.”
I had a mom.
“Why isn’t my mom here?” I asked.
“We didn’t want to overwhelm you. Your mom is at home, waiting for you to arrive, but your dad is in the car.” Tanner said, pointing to the town car with the blacked-out windows, still running on the driveway.
“I still don’t remember. I thought I would remember if I saw someone from my past, if they told me who I was, but I don’t.” My head spun. If I didn’t remember him face to face, would I ever remember him?
Would I ever remember anyone?
“You will, but it will take time. You just need to get back into the groove of things for a while. Your normal routine. It will come back to you. We won’t rush it. Your mom’s got the best doctors already on call. Specialists. You’ll be back to your old self in no time,” he said, nudging my shoulder.
King had already told them everything. At least enough for my mom to already have doctors at the ready.
The girl who I’d given up on might be back after all.
The back door of the car opened again, and out stepped a tall man in a sharp black suit and a solid red tie.
“Who is that?” I asked Tanner.
“Your dad,” he told me. “The senator.”
“Ramie,” the man said. “Your mother is worried sick. Let’s go. Get in the car,” he said sternly, buttoning the bottom button of his suit jacket.
It was ninety degrees outside, and there wasn’t one drop of sweat on his forehead. No redness on his cheeks. It’s like he was too important to be affected by the heat.
From above me, King leaned forward over the railing. With the light of the sun directly overhead, his massive frame cast a shadow onto the ground.
He really did look like a King. A force to be reckoned with. Zeus, on his perch above the world.
The senator stepped out of King’s shadow as if he were too good to be standing in it. This irked me.
He wasn’t better than King.
No one was.
King was a bad guy, but he was my bad guy. He was more than that. He was my world. My heart. These people may have known who I was before, but I knew who I was now, and the two versions of me were going to have to figure out how to merge before I uprooted what I had with King in search of something unknown.
“Senator,” King acknowledged the man.
“Mr. King,” the senator greeted, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.
“Where’s Max?” King asked, bitterly.
“Soon, she’ll be here soon. There is another car on its way here with her in it.”
“Trade means trade.” King said. “She isn’t going anywhere until Max gets here.”
Then, it hit me. King had said I didn’t have a choice, and now, I knew why.
If I stayed, King wouldn’t get his daughter back. The trade he mentioned was me for Max.
“There she is now,” the senator said as another town car pulled up into the driveway. King bounded down the steps jumping over me as he made his way over to the car. The second it stopped, King opened the back door.
“Max?” he shouted into the car.
The driver rounded the vehicle and produced something from his jacket pocket. He slapped a metal cuff around King’s wrist.
“She’s not in there,” King shouted, pulling at the cuff. “What the fuck is this? Where is she?”
The man I thought was the driver twisted King’s other arm forward and secured the cuffs in front of him.
“What are you doing?” I shouted, running up to King. “Let him go!” A pair of strong arms grabbed me from behind and stopped me from getting any closer. “What the fuck is going on? I need to go to him!”