Amnesia, a Psychological Thriller (Centrifuge Duet Book 1)

by Kylie Hillman

  I twist in my seat, catching a glimpse of my mother’s face falling at her summary dismissal. The sympathetic smile I send in her direction is ignored. She pulls the big, heavy doors shut behind her, the gesture symbolic to me somehow. It feels like a portend to how my childhood may have been.

  My father. The dominant spouse.

  My mother. His subordinate.

  “Amber-Rose.” Dad clicks his fingers after he says my name. I barely have time to turn back to him when he’s snaps at me. “For crying out loud, get your head in the game, girl. Your days of creating chaos for this family are over.”

  Swivelling quickly in my seat, I return my attention to the man sitting in front of me. He’s scary as hell. His ambiguous comment goes straight over my head, even though I can tell that the other two men in the room agree with his nasty accusation. Faced with a growing hostility that’s making the atmosphere heavier by the second, I find myself shrinking back in my chair to put some extra space between us. My father’s ever-so-slightly lifted shoulders, permanent sneer, and tight-lipped smirk showcase his satisfaction with my response, leaving me kicking myself for being so weak.

  “The prenup?” Jax breaks the stifling silence. My stomach tries to invade my throat as it finally becomes clear why we’ve been summoned to meet with our father’s. Marriage and babies are order of the day, it would appear. “Let’s get it sorted, once and for all.”

  He smiles at me, grabbing my closest hand and squeezing it almost apologetically. “Then, Amber and I can get on with our life and you two can rest easy knowing that you’ve secured our family fortunes for generations to come. It’s a win-win, really.”

  Immediately, I reassess my earlier thought that Jax agreed with Dad’s claim that I cause chaos. The realisation that I have one person on my side settles the apprehension that was trying to choke me. I sit up straight in my seat, returning my fiancés pressure with sure fingers.

  Jax’s father chuckles, then makes a choking sound. I catch an exchange between father and son, one in which the offspring emerges as the victor. Henry’s cheeks redden before the scarlet extends all the way to the tops of his ears.

  My father clears his throat, bemusement written all over his face. “Well, Jaxon, I guess that’s one way of putting it.”

  He pulls one of the files free from his overburdened in-tray and flips it open. Laying it on this desk, he steeples his hands over the document and regards me and Jax with a serious expression. “I’ve been waiting for more years than I can count for this day.”

  Henry nods from his vantage point behind Dad’s shoulder.

  “The joining of the St. George political dynasty with the Ray medical legacy is going to shake this country to its very core. Your drug,” my father inclines his head in Jax’s direction before speaking again. “It’s going to revolutionise dementia treatment, it’ll bring hope to those suffering from Parkinson’s. Why, my daughter is living proof of its effectiveness in lessening the impacts of traumatic brain injuries. The possibilities are endless. The money to be made is unimaginable. The St. George name will be on everyone’s lips for the foreseeable future, as long as, this marriage goes ahead and the data stays where it should be. Dead and buried.”

  Dad stops speaking, his chest heaving, bright spots on his cheeks. The gleam in his eye is almost maniacal and I feel as if I’m missing a large chunk of information that would allow me to make sense of his diatribe.

  “It will.” Jax leans forward and rests his elbows on the table. I watch, mouth open, mind spinning, as my fiancé takes control of the room with ease. “You have my word that the data will never see the light of day. The new tests are showing a promising upturn that negates the previous results, just as I said they would.”

  He turns to me, a caustic grin on his handsome face that softens into a loving smile a second later. “My end of the bargain has been kept. The drug will remain on target to be ready for a patent and then retail sale within the year ... if my demands are met.”

  Jax’s father has been quiet while the two men had their say. To be honest, he looks nearly as confused as I feel. Now, he offers his input in a tone that speaks of an iron will that’s hidden beneath his seemingly benign exterior. “Not your demands, Jaxon. Our demands. I remain the head of our family and will do so until the day I die. And, since we all know that your requirements are of a more delicate nature, Malcolm and I have decided that the prenup should be a little more involved than previously planned.”

  Jax grunts, sitting back in his chair and eyeballing his dad with contempt. My father shrugs, then picks up the file that he’d previously opened. He spins it around and settles it in front of the pair of us.

  I scan the first page, the tiny print blurring together as the sheer scope of the agreement becomes apparent. Statements that outline the number of heirs I must produce within a specific timeframe after our wedding in a mere three weeks, the desire to groom Jax to move into politics once the development of “Centrifuge” has reached retail stage, and the various ways that our individual inheritances will be settle upon us as each condition is met. It’s arrogantly precise ... and, that’s just the first page.

  “Wow.” I lay my head against the back of my seat. A thumping pain is growing in intensity behind my left eye as the stark reality of my forgotten life dawns. “I’m not even human to you. I’m a fucking brood mare with an impeccable pedigree and deep pockets.”

  My father’s head snaps toward me, his chin lifting as his eyes narrow. Henry lifts a shoulder, nothing in his bearing in anyway denying the truth of what I just stated. The man who’s as affected by this ridiculous agreement as much as I am seizes my upper arm and pulls me toward him.

  “Watch your damn language!” Jax shakes me, then shoves me back into my former position. He climbs to his feet, planting his hands on his hips, and glaring down at me from his full height. “Be reasonable. Protecting our families before we complete this merger doesn’t cheapen you. It’s smart and necessary.”

  I look into his angry, dark eyes, trying to reconcile the man in front of me with the man who pleasured me against the side of a limo and then promised me more of his attention. At that time, there was love in his eyes. Right now, there’s nothing of that man left. He’s impossible to read—a walking contradiction—both frightening and exciting in his intensity.

  It’s with that thought in the forefront of my mind that I push to my feet and close the distance between us. Shock registers on his handsome face, his colour deepening when I land my palms on his cheeks before pressing my lips against his for no longer than two seconds.

  “It’s smart and necessary, but it mentions nothing about love. Or, will I find the parameters for that outlined on pages three through six?”

  My question hangs in the air as I move to where the prenup lies with faux innocence on the desk. I flip to the end of the agreement, deliberately ignoring the way my hand shakes as I do so. Alarm bells are clanging around my head, shouting that I’m making a mistake, while my heart dances to a gleeful tempo in my chest at the thought of belonging to Jax. My heart wins the battle. I sign above the line where my name is listed on the final sheet, then follow the instructions on the sticky notes and initial every other page.

  My father’s office is silent, aside from the sounds of the three men breathing while they watch me sign away my life without reviewing the rules that will govern me. Once I’m done, I let the pen fall from my fingers and straighten to face my husband-to-be. “There. All done. I hope this is everything you require because I’m not offering one thing above or beyond what’s outlined in that agreement until you prove to me that I’m worth more to you than conditions listed on a piece of paper.”

  Jax doesn’t speak. I honestly don’t think that he’s capable of answering me. The proverbial rug has been swept out from beneath his feet. The ball firmly planted in his court. I might not have any memory of what I wanted for my life, but I do know one thing.

  I refuse to settle for being treated as a barga
ining chip.

  I want love—for me and my contractually-obligated children.

  The ceiling in my childhood bedroom is smooth, clean, and stark white. It offers little in the way of distraction from the muddled musings that are competing for attention in my addled mind. How do I know this? I’ve spent the past half an hour staring at it in the hope that it will give me something else to concentrate on other than the shitty state of my life.

  I’m an amnesiac brood mare who’s marrying a man with a plan that has nothing to do with love and everything to do with money.

  “Little pig, little pig. Let me in.” Seb laughs at his own joke as he lets himself into my room. I haven’t seen him since he disappeared with a wink and a smile in the middle of Uncle Charlie’s wake. The skinny, blonde on his arm evidently offering her condolences in a way that the other guests simply couldn’t compete with.

  “Not by the hair of my chinny, chin, chin.” I sit up and toss my pillow at the cheeky man, giggling when he catches it and throws it back at me.

  Seb plonks his backside on the edge of my bed, all humour dropping from his face once he’s run his gaze over mine. “Rough day?”

  “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have any others to compare it to.”

  “Well, I do.” Seb lifts an eyebrow, his sympathy evident. “Burying your uncle on the same day that you agree to marry my asshole brother has to be up there with one of the worst days imaginable.”

  “He’s not that bad.” The words have left my mouth before I’ve had time to taste the truth of them. “It’s the business-side of the whole thing that pisses me off. We’ve been together since high school, yet our father’s need to have this ridiculous agreement that outlines our every move from now until we die. Hell, it probably has provisions for after that, too.”

  “No doubt.” Seb lays back, stretching his arms behind his head. He crosses his ankles and rolls half onto his side. “Did you get a copy?”

  “No. I kinda threw a hissy fit and then signed it without reading it before I stormed out.” I hug my pillow to my chest, shrugging when he spins back into a sitting position and glares at me.

  “Dude! Epic fail. You need to get a copy. One for me and one for you.”

  It’s my turn to throw myself onto my back. I retake my previous spot and stare at the ceiling again. “Who cares what it says? It’s not going to change anything. I’ve already signed it.”

  Seb stands. Linking his hands behind his back, he begins pacing next to my bed. He does this for a few minutes while I try my best to tune him out and concentrate on wallowing in my self-pity. I don’t actually care what the prenup contains. My lack of happiness at my upcoming nuptials is much more simple. I want the man I’m marrying to love me for me, and not for the extra power and wealth that our union will bring him. I want the Jax who smiled at me with affection in his eyes in the back of the limo. The Jax who keeps me on my toes by making my heart race and my panties wet.

  “Did they mention Centrifuge during the prenup meeting?”

  I stay staring at the ceiling while I ponder how to answer his question. Obviously, my lack of response is too much for Seb to handle. He sits on the edge of the mattress then grabs my chin, tilting my face until I’m looking at him.

  “Amber, this is serious. What did they say about Centrifuge?”

  My gaze roams his determined features, annoyance at his heavy-handedness rippling through me. I wrench my chin out of his grip and settle back into my previous contemplation of the ceiling, although I do take pity on him and finally provide some answers.

  “They didn’t say much. Dad talked about how it’s going to put our families on the map. He was excited by the way it could help people with dementia and that type of stuff. It was mentioned in the prenup, too. Something about Jax shifting his focus from medicine to politics once it reached the retail stage of the process. My Dad is supposed to use his influence to assist his transition.”

  “Shit. They’re further along than we thought.”

  My eyebrows knot together and I roll onto my side, facing him. He shrugs, a wry grin lifting his lips. “What do you mean we thought?”

  “Do you trust me?” Nothing about Seb is casual anymore. His brown eyes bore into mine, pleading for my answer to be in the affirmative.

  “I think so.” It’s the best I can give him. I can’t remember my favourite colour, let alone who I trust in this chaotic world. My gut is barely on board with Jax being my fiancé. Asking it to provide confirmation that Seb is my friend is too much for me to expect, right now.

  “I guess that’ll have to do.” He fills his lungs with air, his chest expanding and his cheeks puffing out. A long, draw-out sigh fills the room when he lets them empty. “None of this is going to make sense to you. Just promise me that you’ll hear me out, and if you don’t believe a word I’m saying, you’ll keep it to yourself. Not a word to Jax, our father’s. Anyone.”

  “I promise.” Maybe my gut instinct knows something I don’t because his request doesn’t seem all that strange. “Listen to you. Try to believe it. If I don’t, keep my mouth shut. Easy peasy.”

  He laughs. “You haven’t changed a bit. You’re still Queen Goober.”

  Before I have time to open my mouth and question his last remark, he holds up a finger and starts talking. “The medication they were speaking about—Centrifuge—is what Jax has been using to heal you. It has some exciting capabilities, but it also has frightening side effects. Don’t ask me why or how we know this. Don’t ask me for further details because you made me promise not to give them to you until the time was right. Just know that we have to get our hands on the original results from the first round of testing as well as, at least, one copy of the prenup.”

  A shard of remembrance sparks in my brain. “Dad mentioned something about the original data staying dead and buried. Jax assured him that it would as long as his requirements were met.”

  “Jesus, woman. I just asked you what they said and you forget to tell me the most important details?” I ignore his dig, the realisation that I have a bigger worry than forgetting to give Seb an accurate recount of the conversation dawning with speed.

  “Does this mean that I’m at risk? You just said Jax uses Centrifuge on me.” Pushing to my feet, I hold pleading hands out to him. “Tell me the truth. What the fuck is going on here? I need details. All of them. Right now!”

  He takes hold of my shoulders and pushes me until I’m forced to sit on the bed. I open my mouth, ready to berate him once again, closing it when he sinks to his knees in front of me. With imploring eyes and a beseeching tone, Seb’s attempts to calm me. “I know you’re going to hate me for what I’m about to do, but please believe me when I tell you that you would want me to do this. I have your back, even when it doesn’t look like I do.”

  His riddles mean nothing to me. The hair rises on the back of my neck. I reach out and slap his face, once, then again, when the satisfaction of finally having a way to regain some control floods me. My hand is raised, ready to strike again; however, he beats me to the punch. Seb rises to his full height and knocks me onto my back.

  “Get off. Get the fuck off me.” I scream at the top of my lungs. He jams a sweaty palm over my mouth to stop the noise, holding me down with his body weight as he climbs over me. Once I’m pinned under him, he pulls his phone from his front pants pocket and jabs at the screen with his thumb.

  “Jax.” I yell against his hand when I hear my fiancé’s name. My urgency to escape increasing when Jax’s voice floats through the phone. “You need to come to Amber’s room. She’s having a meltdown. Bring the drug with you, I think her memory is returning.”

  Shaking overtakes my body. Seb regards me steadily after he ends the call. The muscle that works in his jaw is the only outward sign I can find that he’s struggling with the betrayal he just enacted.

  “You bastard.” I mutter when the sound of someone running toward my room can be heard.

  “You’ll thank me later.”

&
nbsp; The door swings open. A loud crash fills the room when it hits the wall. Footsteps head for where Seb has me pinned and I force myself to relax when I see the aggravation on Jax’s face. He’s not happy ... and it’s not directed at me like I thought it would be.

  “Get off her.” Each word is enunciated with enough hostility to send my previous anger at Seb scurrying away to hide. It looks like if Jax has his way, he’s going to inflict enough pain for the pair of us. Seb must have the same realisation. He removes his hand from my mouth and backs away with his hands in the air.

  “I was only trying to help, bro.”

  Jax ignores his excuses, taking me by the hands and pulling me until I’m standing in front of him. Running his hands down my upper arms, he shoos Seb away with one hand while leading me to the nearest armchair with the other. In a repeat of the tactic his brother used on me minutes ago, he lowers to his knees and regards me with serious eyes. “Baby, tell me why you’re upset.”

  I glance in Seb’s direction. He’s standing behind Jax, worry written all over his features. A quick shake of his head is all that’s needed to remind me of my earlier promise. It leaves me uncertain.

  Who do I trust? Jax or Seb?

  It’s an impossible choice so I decide to hedge my bets with a half-truth.

  “The prenup. I decided that I wanted to read it and Seb was trying to tell me it’s too late since I’ve already signed it.”

  Surprise floods Jax’s face, but it disappears so quickly that I start to wonder if I imagined it. He looks over his shoulder, dipping his head in a show of support for Seb.

  “He’s right. It is too late for you to back out. But, I don’t have any problem with you having a copy of it.” Jax presses his lips together. The ghost of a smile graces his face before it evaporates. “In fact, I think you might find some items of interest listed in it. Your caustic demands about love got me to thinking so I had a few amendments made.”