Page 11 of Broken Discipline
Two men dressed in navy blue police uniforms stood on the front porch. One officer dipped his hat at Finn, and the other officer smiled at me.
“We had a disturbance complaint, Mr. Carter,” one officer said.
“I made the call, actually,” I said. I gestured to Finn. “This is going to sound crazy, but I woke up in his bed. And I—”
“Did you drink too much last night, ma’am?” the officer snickered. The other one chuckled too. My cheeks flamed. They thought I was drunk?
“No,” I said firmly. But the last thing I remembered was falling asleep after drinking a glass of wine. Had Bruce or Finn drugged me for this?
The officers looked at each other and I shook myself out of that train of thought.
“It’s not that,” I said. “It’s like everything in my house was stolen and moved intohishouse. Like he stole my entire life. Then he locked me in that bedroom like I was his prisoner.” My shoulders and knees quaked, knowing how insane it sounded, but I didn’t know how to explain it. “My name is Ramona Astley, and my husband is Bruce—”
“Officers,” Finn said. “My wife is coming on with a fit again. Another dream.”
A wave of chuckles drifted from the officers as they glanced at each other. My palms sweat, the truth seeping into my head.
They believed every word Finn said. Like they were in on it too.
“He’s lying,” I said. “I know his name, but that’s it. I don’t knowwhohe is, and I amnothis wife. I don’t even know where I am. I live in Opulent Gates with Bruce Astley—”
“This is Opulent Gates, ma’am,” one officer said quietly. He eyed me like I was a loose cannon. “Are you having a hard time, ma’am?”
“You’ve had some accidents before, right, ma’am?” the other officer said.
Accidents.That was what Bruce called my memory loss. The concussions and trauma of surviving the Masquerades made me want to forget things. So life, whenever I wasn’t with the twins, passed by in a blur.
“Do you want us to take her into the clinic this time?” the officer asked Finn.
My lips trembled, my heart stopping in my chest. I angled myself toward him. “Excuse me?”
The officer completely ignored me. “Are you going to be okay, Mr. Carter? Or should we send some help?”
“You believe this man?” I asked. I grabbed the officer’s shoulders. “You need to help me!”
The officer gave a sad smile, but he didn’t move. He faced Finn again. “We recommend you take her to the Opulent Gates Clinic, Mr. Carter. Make sure she understands the Marked Blooms Syndicate policy—”
I darted as fast as I could, racing across the grassy lawn toward the paved road, but footsteps pounded into the grass behind me. Sets of hands grabbed each of my arms, tackling me to the ground. I twisted and screamed, but my cries echoed. Even with the lampposts illuminating the street, not one of the Opulent Gates residents stirred from their properties. The estates glowed like beacons of light. Everything was always perfect here, and everyone refused to acknowledge when it wasn’t. A sharp pin pricked my neck, and immediately, my muscles loosened like jelly. A numbness flushed through my skin. Everything tingled.
What the hell had he put in me?
“What’s going on?” I asked. “I—”
Strong arms wrapped around me as the officers handed me off to Finn. He held my waist.
“I deeply apologize, gentlemen,” he said.
The officers tipped their hats. “We’ll see you soon, Mr. Carter,” one of them said. “Take care.”
And with that, they walked away. The world was fuzzy around me. Like we were in a cartoon. Even when the hero jumps off of the cliff, and the villain follows, no one dies.
Their squad car disappeared down the street, and I staggered forward like I was sludging through muddy water. I opened my mouth to scream, but a sob came out instead. Finn shushed me like I was a baby that needed soothing. As if he had expected this behavior.
I tried to remember before I fell asleep. Bruce was staying out late; he had a meeting with a friend. I had put the twins to bed, then I had opened a bottle of wine and started a bubble bath. Maybe I had fallen asleep—
The front door closed behind us and I was locked inside of the gray fortress again. Everything in my body buzzed with confusion, terror, and rage. A grandfather clock ticked somewhere inside of the house, like the entire structure was a fine-tuned machine. My neck was heavy, but I forced myself to look around. Tall ceilings. Walls blocking off visibility. Everything angular and harsh. There was nothing welcoming about this house.
This wasn’t my home.
