Page 78 of Wicked Knight
“I’ll see how I feel.” I nod. “Or wait until I have the nightmare and see the face again. It could just be my imagination, but I felt it was important.”
“Then maybe it was. I went through the same thing after my mom died.”
My breath catches when I think of what happened to her mother. Isabelle watched her die. There were two killers, but she only saw one and heard the other.
All she had was a voice to go on, and for years, she believed it belonged to Parker, her mother’s former employer and our previous Lord Chancellor. Isabelle was right. That was the scandal that ripped through Raventhorn just before the summer semester.
“These things are tough,” she adds. “But if it’s important to you, then it’s important.”
“Thanks. It would be great to get my memory back.”
“Perhaps being with Dmitri is jogging something.”
“Maybe.”
“I don’t know much, but I’ve heard that repressed memories stay hidden to protect your mind from something. When you’re happy and in a safe environment where you can relax, they often return.”
“When did you get all Psych 101?” I joke, but I’m listening. I think she’s right.
“Not sure. But did it help?”
“Yes. It helped.”
“Good. In the meantime… try to be happy.” She grins, bringing back the lightheartedness by raising her latte in a mock toast. “Here’s to you and Dmitri and ignoring all the rules.”
I let out a breathy laugh then clink my mug against hers. I’m nervous as hell, but I feel like things just might be okay—at least for now. “Hear, hear.”
We both take a sip of our drinks and smile wider, appreciating the taste.
“This is really good,” I giggle.
“I got them to add an extra dose of caramel syrup.” Isabelle nods mischievously. “I felt we needed the sugar.”
“You were right.”
“I know.”
We both laugh, then she takes my hand again. “Be strong, Mackenzie. No matter what happens, at least you have this time with Dmitri.”
I smile back at her, appreciating her words. “Thank you.”
We fall into our usual chatter while we enjoy our drinks and cookies. She tells me about her vacation with Kade, and I talk about ballet. Then it’s time to go.
We walk outside, still talking heartily, when the roar of a motorcycle catches our attention.
We stop on the sidewalk and look down the road behind us.
Not one but two motorcycles pull up right next to us. My heart seizes when I realize it’s Kade andDmitri.
Suddenly, I’m transported back to high school, to moments when Isabelle and I would be watching them parade around some party like the badass gods of the world they are.
She’d be gawking at Kade. I’d be staring at Dmitri. Neither of us would say anything to each other. All we did was watch and wish and wonder.
Now those guys are here for us.
They take off their helmets. All Kade has to do is flash Isabelle a mischievous grin, and she’s all his. She flies toward him and gives him a kiss. Then she takes his helmet, hops on the back of his motorcycle, and secures herself to him like glue.
Watching her surprises and fascinates me in equal parts. The Isabelle of yesteryear would never be caught dead near a motorcycle, let alone on the back of one.