Oh No
Remi’s POV
Rowan froze.
His entire body went stiff, his hands clenching into tight fists. His breathing turned sharp, uneven.
Then he stumbled.
“Rowan?” I took a step toward him. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer.
His head jerked slightly, his fingers pressing against his temples. His expression twisted, like something was clawing inside his mind, trying to force its way out.
Then, just like that—
He collapsed.
“Rowan!” I rushed forward, catching his shoulders before he could hit the ground completely. His body was limp, his breathing shallow.
No, no, no.
I shook him gently. “Rowan! Wake up! Damn it!”
Nothing.
His pulse was there but weak.
I forced myself to think, to act.
I tilted his chin back, checking his airway, pressing my fingers to the side of his neck. His breathing was slowing—too slow.
I clenched my jaw.
Then I started CPR.
My hands pressed against his chest, counting each compression, my mind running through every medical procedure I’d ever learned.
“Come on, Vaughn,” I muttered, sweat dripping down my face. “Don’t do this right now.”
I pressed harder.
His body jerked slightly, but he didn’t wake up.
I gritted my teeth, lowering my head to give him two rescue breaths.
One.
Two.
I pulled back, ready to start compressions again—
When he gasped.
His eyes snapped open, wild and unfocused. His chest rose sharply, his body tensing beneath me.
Relief slammed into me so fast my vision blurred.
I exhaled shakily. “Oh, thank God.”
Rowan groaned, blinking rapidly. “What…?”
I grabbed his face, my fingers pressing against his jaw. “You fainted. You stopped breathing.”
His brows furrowed. His eyes flickered around the wreckage, landing on the body again.
And then—his expression changed.
Like something clicked.
His lips parted slightly. His breathing turned shaky.
“I know him,” he whispered.
I stiffened. “What?”
Rowan swallowed hard. “I know him.”
He pushed himself up slowly, his hand still trembling as he reached for the dead man’s tactical vest.
I stayed quiet as he grabbed the ID tag from the man’s chest, flipping it over.
His jaw clenched.
Then he muttered something under his breath.
I frowned. “Rowan?”
His grip on the ID tightened.
“This man—” His voice was hoarse. “—he worked for Gigi’s family.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
Rowan exhaled sharply. “His name was Marcus… Marcus Delacroix. He was one of the men Gigi’s father used for security.”
I shook my head, trying to make sense of it. “But what was he doing on the plane?”
Rowan met my gaze, something dark flashing in his eyes. “It should have just been me and you, right?”
A chill ran down my spine.
That was exactly what I was thinking.
No one else was supposed to be on that flight. No extra passengers. No security detail.
So why was Marcus here?
And why was he dead?
Rowan inhaled sharply, his hands pressing against his temples again. “This doesn’t make sense.”
I looked at him carefully. “Are you remembering something else?”
He was silent for a long moment.
Then he whispered, “Flashes.”
I scooted closer, my pulse racing. “Tell me.”
He closed his eyes, brows furrowing. “Gigi was talking about her father that day. I remember that much. She kept saying how things were going to change soon. How we were going to change soon.”
My breath hitched. “What does that mean?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. But she was tense. Almost… anxious.”
I swallowed hard. “And then?”
Rowan exhaled, rubbing his face. “Then I remember driving. And like I told you before—one second, she was there. The next, she wasn’t.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding.
None of this was adding up.
“Rowan,” I murmured. “What if she planned this?”
His expression darkened.
I pushed forward. “You said yourself—something feels off. What if the accident wasn’t an accident? What if Marcus was involved somehow? What if—”
“Gigi set me up?” His voice was quiet.
I hesitated. “I don’t know.”
Rowan exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He was silent for a long time, his gaze locked onto the ID tag in his palm.
Then he muttered, “Neither do I.”
But something in his expression told me—
He was starting to believe it.
I swallowed hard, watching the firelight flicker across his face. His jaw was clenched tight, tension rolling off him in waves. I had seen Rowan angry before—but this was different.
This was personal.
Without another word, he stood, gripping the ID tag so tightly his knuckles turned white. “We’re setting an SOS. Now.”
I nodded, pushing myself up as well. The sooner we got out of here, the sooner we could start getting real answers.
We worked quickly. Using broken pieces of the wreckage, we arranged large metal scraps in an open clearing near the cave, spelling out HELP in bold, clear letters. It wasn’t much, but if a rescue plane flew overhead, it would be enough to catch their attention.
Rowan barely spoke, his movements sharp and precise. His mind was elsewhere, lost in whatever fragmented memories were clawing their way back.
And then—
The sky cracked open.
Thunder rumbled, and within seconds, rain came pouring down.
I cursed, shoving my hair out of my face. “Are you kidding me?”
Rowan let out a frustrated breath. “Let’s go.”
We rushed back to the cave, soaked to the bone before we even made it inside. The fire had nearly died, steam rising where the rain had managed to sneak in.
I dropped down near the embers, shivering. “This is miserable.”
Rowan sat beside me, running a hand through his drenched hair. “No arguments here.”
I exhaled sharply, rubbing my arms for warmth. The cave wasn’t sealed well enough to keep out the damp chill, and with our clothes soaked, the cold was brutal.
Rowan sighed, looking at me through the dim light. “We need to warm up.”
I nodded, shifting closer to the fire.
Then I felt it.
His eyes on me.
I turned slightly, meeting his gaze.
Something changed in the air.
The tension had always been there—simmering beneath our fights, our arguments, our shared moments of survival. But now, in the dim light of the cave, with the rain pounding outside and our bodies trembling from the cold…
It exploded.
Rowan’s gaze dipped, lingering on my lips for half a second before flickering back to my eyes. His breathing was slow, controlled—but there was a hunger in his stare.
My pulse jumped.
I swallowed, heat curling low in my stomach. “What?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek—just barely, just enough to send a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
“I should be focusing on getting us out of here,” he murmured. “Not… this.”
I exhaled shakily. “Then why aren’t you?”
His fingers trailed lower, down the curve of my jaw, his thumb barely grazing my lower lip.
“Because,” he said, voice rough, “I don’t want to.”
My breath hitched.
Then—
He kissed me.
It wasn’t slow. It wasn’t tentative.
It was hungry.
A sharp pull, a desperate clash of lips that sent heat rushing through my veins. His hand cupped the back of my neck, pulling me in deeper, and I melted.
My fingers found his hair, gripping tightly as I kissed him back just as hard, just as wild. The cold, the rain, the wreckage—it all disappeared.
There was only this.
Only him.
His lips moved down to my jaw, trailing heat across my damp skin. I gasped as he kissed my neck, his teeth grazing just slightly, sending a jolt of electricity through me.
My hands traced his shoulders, his chest—solid, warm, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my fingertips.
Rowan groaned against my skin, his breath heavy. “Damn it, Remi.”
I didn’t know what he meant by that.
And right now, I didn’t care.
I just wanted more.
And judging by the way his hands gripped my waist, so did he.
I could feel his hardness pressed against me. This was wrong. I shouldn't be doing this. But…I could not stop.
My memory of our sex during those times as married c
ouples were not the best. But he never forced me and he always did foreplay to get me ready but now…I was falling for it willingly.
Wa sit because of the cave or the fact g that he…was changing?
The amnesia turned him into an entirely different man.
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