You Will Remember Me by Hannah McKinnon (best sales books of all time txt) 📕

He let out a laugh. Cold, hard and full of hatred. “This amnesia stunt you’re pulling? You may have everyone else fooled around here, but not me. You’re a liar—”

“Maybe you’re the one lying. I hear Kate dumped you. What happened? Couldn’t handle the rejection? Decided to do something about it and blame me?”

“Nice try.” He lowered his voice, took a step toward me, fists clenched by his sides. “The cops couldn’t find evidence of what you did, but I’ll never stop looking. Do you hear me? I won’t stop until you’ve been shanked in prison and you’re bleeding out all over the ground.”

“Sounds like a threat.”

“Nah. It’s a fucking promise.”

“I don’t need this,” I said quietly. “For the last time, I don’t know—”

I didn’t see the punch coming before Keenan’s fist connected with my middle. I stumbled backward.

“Did that jog your memory?” he said before coming for me again.

This time I was ready. I took two steps back, weaving out of the way as his hand almost slammed into the wall of the restaurant. I wished it had. Maybe he’d have broken a few bones, although with the rage on his face, I didn’t think some busted knuckles would’ve been enough to stop him. Keenan cursed and rushed at me, sending us flying. I pushed him off, both of us scrambling to make it to our feet before the other. A second passed, then two, and with a deafening roar, Keenan lunged for me again. As I stepped to the side and brought up my knee, hitting him squarely in the gut, he let out a grunt. He grabbed my arm and threw me backward. When I landed, something sharp dug into my shoulder and I jumped up, brushing a shard of glass from my skin, the remains of an old broken bottle I’d landed on. I ignored the steady gush of blood making its way to my fingers, and Keenan’s smirk made me want to pound him into the ground. He wanted a fight. I’d give him one. He’d pissed me off one time too many.

“Plenty more where that came from, dipshit,” he said. He was about to charge me again when the front door to the restaurant burst open and Maya stormed out, eyes ablaze.

“What the hell are you doing?” she shouted.

“Teaching him a lesson,” Keenan said. “And he started it.”

Maya laughed, indicating behind her with her thumb. “What are you, five? Think our security cameras will back you up? Let’s call Ricky, see if he believes your bullshit.”

Keenan held up his hands and backed away.

“Good decision,” Maya snarled as we watched him leave. “If you touch Ash again, he won’t be the one coming for you—I will.”

27

MAYA

Keenan took off, tires of his Subaru spinning. I opened my mouth to ask Ash what the hell had happened, what he’d been thinking, that with his concussion another blow to the head could be deadly. I was about to start berating him when my eyes dropped to his shoulder, and I gasped when I saw the blood.

“Ash, you cut yourself.”

He waved me off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. We have to get you inside.”

“It’s a cut, I’m not losing an arm. I’ll fix it when I get home.”

I disagreed, but he didn’t look like he was in the mood for another argument. Pushing him down on the bench, I said, “Fine. I’ll get my stuff. Give me a minute.”

Ash grunted but gave in, so I rushed inside and grabbed my things. That Keenan had gone after Ash was no surprise, with their history it had been a long time coming, but thankfully I’d been here to put a stop to it. What was it with everyone today? Fiona had always been such a goody-goody blabbermouth (translation: nosy bitch), but she’d blindsided me by telling Ash about Dealer Dave and triggering more of his memories with that damn postcard. The latter was a problem I’d have to handle somehow, and good thing I’d come up with the weed story so fast. The expression on his face when I’d told him I’d needed it because of his return was exactly what I’d wanted, and the revelation made him back off immediately. Still, if I needed another supply of benzos, and so far I hadn’t touched the stuff, I definitely needed to get them from someone else. Then there was Lily’s soccer comment, but that, too, could be handled. It was my word against hers.

I had a more pressing problem in Lily, who’d obviously been sharpening her claws and was digging into Ash more quickly and deeply than I expected. My mind sped ahead, calculating twists, turns and outcomes. By the time I stepped outside the Cliff’s Head to rejoin Ash, I’d reengineered my plan, and we were in my car, heading home. That’s what sly people do, adjust and pivot seamlessly without anybody noticing what’s going on until it’s too late. Of course, the cleverest among us never let on we’re doing anything in the first place.

As I drove us home, Ash pressed a clean damp cloth I’d taken from the kitchen over the gash in his shoulder. Goddamn it, my anger toward Lily and Keenan simmered right beneath the surface, ready to burst forth. A large part of me wanted to let it. See what would happen. But no, softly—softly would work far better in the longer run.

“Keenan’s insane,” I said, gripping the steering wheel. “I’m tired of his stupidity and random accusations. Someone’s got to put a stop to this bullshit, once and for all.”

“I would’ve punched him if you hadn’t arrived, maybe that would’ve helped.”

I scoffed, couldn’t help taking some of my emotions out on Ash. “And get a more busted head in the process? That would make him happy.” I let out a wry laugh and drove on in silence, thinking how Keenan had calmed down after Ash had left Newdale. More than once I’d wondered if it was because he’d forced Ash to scribble the hasty