Help Me Remember (COMPLETED)

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

His Mother

This was home?

The place was amazing. The walls were of glass, letting the light stream into the modern furnishing of the penthouse. Everything was sleek and expensive-looking.

But as I glanced around, my brows crumpled. I waited for the feeling of familiarity. Something. Anything. But nothing sparked my memory.

"Where is our room?" I asked Zach, the anxiety coloring my voice.

"Upstairs, the second room to the left—"

I was already starting up the glass stairs, leaving Zachary to follow. My heart was beating fast, searching for something—anything that would remind me of the past. I flung the door open and was greeted a king-sized bed that made me stop.

Looking at the bed bothered me. But still nothing.

I looked around, searching for more. There were two doors inside the room. I opened the first and it was the bath. A Jacuzzi in the middle. I stepped out.

"What are you looking for?" Zach asked.

I'm looking for myself.

"What's in the other door?" I asked back, already opening it.

"Our closet." And it was. One wall was filled with men's clothes. The rest were filled with women's.

I held out the first dress I saw and it had a low-cut neckline and a slit up one leg so high it was scandalous. The others were the same, of varying degrees of indecency it was frustrating to look at. I didn't even own one pair of flat shoes.

I stared at a particularly translucent nightdress whose sole purpose was luring in unsuspecting men.

"Who are you?" I asked, frustrated. The clothes here matched those inside the suitcase earlier and I was left bereft. These things didn't make sense to me. And I positively refused to believe them mine.

I turned back to Zachary who was standing at the door, watching me. I looked back, a thousand questions in my head. But as I opened my mouth, the crash of a door sounded downstairs.

I glanced outside, "Were we expecting someone?"

The frown on Zach's face said everything.

"No."

He walked out. I watched him leave, my insides in turmoil at not remembering anything despite coming home. I heard his steps down the stairs before the argument started.

"Where is she?!" The aggression in the females voice was unmistakable.

"Mom, we just got home." That was Zach.

His mom was here?

I immediately stood up, going out of the room. From the top of the stairs, I witnessed the argument from the entrance of the penthouse. The blonde in her mid-fifties was dressed elegantly. But it seemed that Zach was restraining her from going further into the house.

This was his mom? I was frozen on top of the stairs.

"I'm going to talk to her! Let me in!"

"She doesn't remember anything," Zach's tone left no room for argument.

Were they talking about me?

This seemed to anger his mother more, "How convenient. You're still protecting that—that whore."

The gasp left me before I knew it. Me? A whore?

Both heads snapped in my direction. Zach's eyes were chilling. I took a step back.

"Scarlett." Zach murmured.

His mother's face flushed red, "You!" I jumped at her tone, "how dare you come back here after everything you've done!"

Zach grabbed his mother by the upper hand. "Stop it."

The warning in his voice was lost on his mom, "After all this time, you still protect the slut!"

"If you don't leave right now, I'll let security drag you out." the sudden harshness in Zach voice scared me.

His mother's mouth opened in outrage, "I'm your mother!"

"And my wife is pregnant."

Mrs. Harrington stopped at that. She looked to me with eyes wide before they filled with disbelief. My hands flew to my flat stomach, immediately protective of my unborn child.

"How sure are you the child is yours?" there was mockery in her tone.

The magnitude of what she said struck me. I felt my knees give way.

"LEAVE!"

I must have given her the desired reaction. Zach's mother sneered at me before walking out of the door and into the elevator. Zach stood there, panting. Anger was pouring out of him in waves and he couldn't look at me.

And suddenly I was scared to find out who I was. Who I really am.

Who are you Scarlett Noble-Harrington?