Come Kiss Me

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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Summer had just arrived in Northville.

A light drizzle pattered on the glass window, startling a woman from her slumber.

Caressing the dark gray blanket with her fingertips, Amelia Ramsay opened her eyes. At the same time, the bathroom door in the hotel suite opened and out came a tall man wrapped in a bath towel and surrounded by hot vapour.

Casually glancing at Amelia's pretty face, Patrick Hopper asked half-heartedly, "Do you still remember what happened last night?"

She was stunned for a while, then sat up with the blanket in her arms and said faintly, "Yes... I remember."

Last night, Amelia was in the bar trying to drink her sorrows away. Next thing she knew, she was already in some random strangers' arms. One thing led to the other, they spent the night together in the hotel.

The memory fragments gradually started flowing back into Amelia's mind. And every frame of them was the reminder that she had lost her virginity because of alcohol.

Looking at Amelia, who did not move a muscle, from above, Patrick thought she was trying to cling to him. He confessed emotionlessly, "Last night, I thought you were an escort."

Amelia couldn't help but raised her neatly trimmed eyebrows. She checked out his masculine body and gave a cold grin, "That makes the two of us, mister. I thought you were a male prostitute."

Patrick's eyes, which were like two pristine stones of onyx, narrowed down at her, "Since it was consensual, I'm sure you won't have a problem if we part ways now?"

Her beautiful eyes turned to the direction of the door. "Sure, be my guest."

Amelia's carefree attitude made Patrick ponder. If he had not seen the blood stain on the quilt, he would have thought last night was not her first night with a man.

Yesterday was the first day that Patrick returned to the Northville. Last night, his friends asked him to hang out in a bar. He never thought he would be entangled with a drunken woman right after he left his booth.

He was not in the mood for romance at first, but he could not help it after meeting Amelia's flirtatious eyes. Having his friends trying to be his wingmen, he was already on a hotel bed by the time he realized what had happened.

When Patrick walked into the shower after the fun, he wanted to send the one-night-stand away with some money. Never would he fathom that Amelia actually could not wait for him to leave, let alone asking him to answer for his actions.

It seemed that he had not been back to Northville for too long. She did not even know who he is. However, he could not rule out the possibility that this woman was just playing dumb.

With his eyes, Patrick pierced through Amelia, who had skin as light and soft as the moonlight. He reminded her, "Do you still remember what you need to do? I don't want any trouble from you."

Amelia Ramsay's smirk remained the same with a thread of sarcasm in her tone, "Thanks for the reminder."

Bearing a stranger's child? Well, she was not interested.

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