Free Blood and Bone by Tara Brown

consider you rogue. You know what the charges for treason look like?”
    My insides twist. “How can I? I don’t know anything, and he’s done nothing wrong. He’s a good person; this is a mistake.”
    “You’re still alive after six years. He clearly feels something for you or he would have killed you. He must know what you are.”
    I shake my head. “What am I? I work in shops. I’m lucky to have him. I’m the one you want. At night I sleepwalk and murder animals.”
    He cocks an eyebrow. “You’re a fucking vegetarian! Stop the act.”
    I shudder. “No. I’m not.”
    “Yeah, ya are. Ya been one since you were five years old. Your dad was killing a pig in the barn. It was making all kinds of fuss. He was cocking it up ’cause he was drunk off his ass and you woke up, caught him, and freaked out. He fucking cooked the pig and made you eat it. You decided from then on, no more animals.”
    My throat turns sour. “You have to be wrong. I eat meat.”
    He sighs. “Well, I guess being with nutty old Dash has cured you of one thing. Thank God for that.”
    I push the images away, pretending the last ten seconds never occurred. “It doesn’t matter. I woke with blood all over me. He told me I kill animals in my sleep.”
    He scoffs. “He rubbed you down with blood and lied to you. He’s a sociopath. He’s going to play with you, Sam. Get used to it.”
    “Jane. If that’s the case, you can’t expect me to go back there and pretend everything is normal.”
    “Your name is Sam.” Rory nods. “And yes, I do. I expect ya to do your job. I won’t go to the superiors yet. I’ll give you a week to figure this all out. But the minute they find out you have amnesia, they’re gonna haul you in for testing. No one wants CIA testing of anysort.” He nods at the file folder. “Read it, memorize it, and get the fuck back home.” He winks, and I think I might actually hate him a little. “Also, what’s your cell phone number, so I can rig your line?”
    I write the number down. I think I would do anything to go home at this point.
    He flashes me the grin that makes my stomach ache. “Dial 911 from your phone to get me anytime of the day. If he leaves at night, you follow, and call me.” He takes something from his pocket and slides it across the table to me. “Put this on the car if ya get a chance, so we can track it.” It’s a small metal magnet. It makes me feel instantly guilty but I pocket it anyway. “He’s not a good man, Jane. He’s a killer and a dangerous one at that. He’s erased your memory and made you his simpering bitch. I need you to think about that. I need you to want revenge for it as badly as I do.”
    I want to argue, or at the very least, be offended by the “simpering bitch” comment, but I have run out of ammo. The evidence makes Derek look guilty. If he is, I will need all the help I can get, and if he isn’t, I’ll need to clear his name.
    Rory leaves the room, so I spend the next four hours memorizing the contents of the file and praying this is somehow still a case of mistaken identity.
    The information feels like too much, but my brain seems to come alive under the circumstances. There’s a sickening thrill for the first few hours of reading, as if my brain thrives on the danger and adventure of it all. Finally, exhausted and unable to read another thing, I sigh and slip the file folder into the shredding machine and turn it on. I don’t even know why I do that; it just feels like the right choice. I walk to the front counter. “Is he still here?”
    The lady at the desk gives me a completely blank stare. “Who?”
    “The Irishman I was with—Rory. Tall, dark hair, and quite handsome, but crass.”
    Her eyebrows knit. “I didn’t see anyone like that.”
    “Of course not,” I mutter and leave the police station.
    On the way home my brain runs everything off like it’s following a list of things to decipher.
    Benjamin Dash is a genius. He’s smarter than I