chapter 3

Just as I was about to start, it hit me—I needed to take his clothes off first.

I pulled his shirt open. For someone who had been unconscious so long, his chest was firm, his skin carried a faint warmth. My gaze wandered lower, tracing the lines of his abs, until my cheeks flushed hot.

Flustered, I set my hands at his waist, working to ease off his trousers.

"Allan, I swear this isn't what it looks like. I'm just trying to clean you up."

He couldn't respond, of course. The room was silent except for the sharp click of his belt coming undone.

One piece at a time, I slid the fabric away. Heat rushed to my face as I realized it then. He was… impressive, almost intimidating in a way that made my pulse quicken.

What a waste. If Allan hadn't been trapped in that coma, Esme never would have let such a man slip through her fingers in my last life.

I turned to pick up the damp towel, ready to wipe him down, when a hand suddenly caught mine.

"Who?"

I froze. I spun around, straight into a pair of dark eyes and a face so striking I forgot to breathe. The name tore from my lips.

"Allan!"

The man who was supposed to never wake up had just opened his eyes.

This was crazier than anything I'd ever seen on TV.

As I stared at him in disbelief, Allan gave a low chuckle. His hand slid behind my head, pulling me close, and in a voice that brushed against my ear, he murmured, "My bride is beautiful."

The words fell, and the next moment I was lost, swept under by the warmth of him.

When I woke the next morning, it felt like every bone in my body had come loose. Who knew a man fresh out of a coma could have that kind of strength?

By then, Allan was already gone. Today, I planned to go back home.

When I came downstairs, I found Allan in the living room with his parents, the three of them clinging to each other in relief.

All I wanted was to get home. I needed to know if Esme had survived the night.

Mrs. Hendricks clasped my hand and said, "Erin, thank you for saving my son.

"I couldn't ask for a better wife for him.

"I just hope it won't be long before we hear the pitter-patter of little feet."

I gave her a vague smile, my heart racing. All I could think about was Esme, and what Jake might have done to her.

The ride felt endless, though it was only a short trip.

Allan kept staring at me the whole way, and it made me squirm. Did I have something on my face?

The moment we pulled up to the house, I practically bolted out of the car. Out front, a Juarez car was already waiting.

The air inside was heavy, off. I wondered if Esme had already been ruined by Jake after just one night.

Allan's voice came from behind me, "Slow down, Erin."

Slow down? Not a chance. I rushed inside, only to hear muffled sobs drifting from my mother's room.

The sound was heartbreaking, pitiful even. I recognized it instantly. It was Esme.

So she wasn't dead.

Shame.

I stood outside the door, listening as Esme poured out her misery again and again.

"Mom, please, you have to save me. If you don't, I might not live to see tomorrow."

My mother's voice was gentle, full of a concern I had never once heard for me.

"Esme, tell me what happened."

Between sobs, Esme told my mother how Jake had tormented her through the night and had nearly pushed her over the edge.

"Mom, he said he wanted to keep me shut away, like a plaything, and break me down piece by piece. I don't want this. Please save me.

"Look at me. Last night he lashed me until I lost count, and he would not let me treat the marks. He said he wanted to see how long I could stand it.

"Mom, I am terrified. Jake is not even capable in that way. He said he would step back and let others take over while he watched.

"He is a monster. A complete monster."

My mother could hardly believe what she was hearing.

"Esme, are you telling the truth?

"Jake is really that twisted?"

Esme's voice was raw from crying.

"Yes, Mom. Then why not switch me back with Erin? She was the one who was supposed to marry into the Juarez family in the first place.