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What is Romance?


Reading books RomanceReading books romantic stories you will plunge into the world of feelings and love. Most of the time the story ends happily. Very interesting and informative to read books historical romance novels to feel the atmosphere of that time.
In this genre the characters can be both real historical figures and the author's imagination. Thanks to such historical romantic novels, you can see another era through the eyes of eyewitnesses.
Critics will say that romance is too predictable. That if you know how it ends, thereā€™s no point in reading it. Sorry, but no. Itā€™s okay to choose between genres to get what you need from your books. But in romance the happy ending is a feature.Itā€™s so romantic to describe the scene when you have found your True Love like in ā€œfairytale love story.ā€




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Read books online Ā» Romance Ā» Do You Remember Me? by Onyx (important of reading books .TXT) šŸ“–

Book online Ā«Do You Remember Me? by Onyx (important of reading books .TXT) šŸ“–Ā». Author Onyx



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Only on the floor did I look down and actually see the blood pouring from my thigh. I felt dizzy, weak and nauseous.
ā€œDamnit, James! You said we werenā€™t going to shoot anybody!ā€
ā€œI said you werenā€™t going to. Now letā€™s get the fuck out of here!ā€
He took the now full sack from the cashier and both of the men disappeared out the door. At first, we heard the screeching of tires as the cashier called the police.
ā€œYes!... Yes!... Thereā€™s been a robbery! A man was shot! We need an ambulance here fast!ā€
ā€œC.. Cā€¦ donā€™tā€¦ C! Stay with me!ā€ Danielle said, crouching beside me. Her cheeks were damp with tears.
I tried to fight the darkness overcoming me, but it was too much. I gave in and everything faded black before me.
Chapter 11


Chapter 11
Chris



It had been too long. Way too long. I was sick of being here. Sick of her face. Sick of his face. Sick of being held prisoner. Sick of being forced to live with someone, kiss someone, make love to someone I despised. The whole thing sickened me. How could she do everything she did and expect me to just fall in love with her?
ā€œItā€™ll take time to get over the bitch, Chris, thatā€™s okay. Iā€™m here for you now. Iā€™m better than her. Iā€™ll make you feel amazing.ā€ Sheā€™d said over and over again.
But I could never get over Danielle. No, I loved her. You never get over someone you love.

I had to escape. So, in all the free time I could capture, I devised a plan. All in my head. I couldnā€™t risk writing it down and having her find it. She finds everything.
I bought 4 pairs of handcuffs. So, the next time Amber wanted to get ā€˜friskyā€™ I played along with it. This was the only time I was ever eager to get into it, and I suspected that she knew. Hopefully sheā€™d just think I was finally over Danielle.
I handcuffed her wrists and ankles to the bedposts, after Iā€™d stripped her down. This was the last time Iā€™d ever have to look at this pathetic, worthless excuse of a human.
I knelt over her, kissing her lips, then down to her neck. I sucked on one particular spot until she gave me a little moan. It made my stomach turn.
Thatā€™s when I finished all the nonsense. I pulled off my shirt and used it to tie around her head as a blindfold. She still didnā€™t suspect anything. I knelt over and grabbed hold of a pillow and pressed it to her face. At first she was confused. But she learned quickly and started fighting back, squirming and screaming into the pillow, but her sounds were too muffled for anyone to hear or understand. I was on her stomach, weighing her down, though she couldnā€™t break from the handcuffs anyways.
I pressed the pillow harder and harder against her face until finally, almost a minute later, she relaxed and the squirming ceased. I held the pillow for a minute more in case she was faking this to get free.
Once I lifted the pillow, I checked for a pulse or any breath. There was nothing. I grinned. Finally. This bitch had me no more. I held her head in my hands and twisted until her neck snapped.


There was a beeping noise. I tried to open my eyes, but something was holding them shut. There were some muffled voices, both male and female, but none I could recognize.
ā€œW-whatā€™s going on?ā€
ā€œHeā€™s awake.ā€ A lady said.
ā€œW- who are you? Where am I?ā€
ā€œShh, shh, calm down.ā€ A man said from next to me, ā€œItā€™ll be done with soon.ā€
That was what they always said in horror movies where the guy wakes up in what he thinks is a hospital but turns out to be someplace where they torture people and kill them. Was there I was? Was this how it would end? In a torture chamber? Tortured for my murders, my lies, my infidelity.
ā€œHand me the-ā€œ
But his voice was lost to my thoughts.
I didnā€™t want to die here. I wanted to get back to Danielle. We were finally close again. She was just within my grasp.
A stinging shot through my right arm that only lasted for a split second before replacing by a numbness. A numbness that slowly spread throughout the rest of my body. I shut my eyes once again, these final words on my mind, ā€˜I love you Danielle.ā€™

For a moment I just sat there, staring at her cold, lifeless body. She was dead. The witch was dead. Now the only thing sitting between me and my Danielle was Erick.
But before I could worry about how to exterminate Erick, I had to dispose of Amber.
Luckily I already had all this figured out. I took the pillow out of its case and threw it on the floor. I took the handcuffs off Amber and took her body plus the pillow case to the bathroom. God, the disgusting things we did in this very room. This very bathtub I was laying her body in. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the butcher knife from the counter and returned to the bathroom. I untied my shirt from her expressionless face and slipped it back over my head.
I took the knife and slid it across her throat. Again, again, again. The blood oozing out, pouring into the bathtub. Once her head was separated from her body, I went on to the arms. Then the legs. I cut these pieces into smaller pieces. Than even smaller pieces. Until I could fit them in the pillow case. The bathtub was half full of blood and I was drenched in it by then.
After letting the blood drain, then washing the bathtub clean, I washed myself and threw my clothes in the trash, hiding the full, soaked pillow case in the closet.



Danielle



Pacing. Pacing. A baby was crying. Some guy was reading a newspaper.
I couldnā€™t get the picture out of my head. The blood. The pain in his eyes. The men in the ski masks. I tried to calm myself down by pacing and breathing in and out slowly. But it didnā€™t work. Nothing could calm me or ease my worry.
Why was it taking so long? The ambulance had taken him from the gas station to the hospital, but wouldnā€™t let me go with. The police arrived with them and one of the officers questioned me about the robbery before driving me to the hospital.
Once we got to the hospital, they had rushed him into surgery. But that was 3 hours ago. Why was it taking so long? What happened? Was he okay? Did he die and they just didnā€™t want to tell me? So they kept me here, in the waiting room, worried out of my mind?
No, it couldnā€™t be, he had to be okay. I couldnā€™t lose him now. Not now, not ever.
ā€œDanielle?ā€ A female voice called from behind me.
I turned to face the blonde-haired nurse standing in the doorway beside the front desk. I walked up to her, ā€œW-what happened? Is Chris okay?ā€
Waitā€¦ Chris?
ā€œYes, Danielle, heā€™s fine. The surgery went smoothly. We took the bullet out and stitched up the wound. Right now heā€™s resting in room 206. You may go see him if you want.ā€
ā€œY-yes! Show me where that is.ā€
ā€œFollow me.ā€ She turned on her heels and headed down the hall, swinging her waist as she walked.
I followed closely behind, relieved that he was okay. But also wondering why Iā€™d called him Chris. Who was Chris? Then it hit me.
He had me call him C. The first letter of Chris. It had to be his name. Had to be.

The nurse led me down three different hallways before we finally reached his room. She told me to be quiet and told me if something was wrong or if he was in pain to press the red button on the remote beside him and someone would be over immediately. I thanked her before she left and I went inside, taking a seat in the chair beside the bed.
He was fast asleep. So stillā€¦ so silent. His eye twitched a couple times, but he didnā€™t wake up. Not for a long, long while.

Chris



When I finally opened my eyes, I looked around. There was that beeping again. Almost everything in the room was white. The walls, the floor, the blanket covering me.
I turned my head and saw Danielle sitting there, gaze to the floor. Her hair was all messed up and tangled. This didnā€™t feel real. This was just like when I came to see Danielle in the hospital. Only I was in the patientsā€™ bed now and she was the one waiting for me to wake up.
ā€œAm I dead?ā€ I said, shattering the silence.
Her head shot up in surprise. There were bags under her eyes, bloodshot from crying. She looked at me and smiled, ā€œNo. Youā€™re in the hospital, with me.ā€ After a moment she continued, ā€œThey took the bullet out of your thigh and stitched you back up. They say youā€™ll be fine.ā€
I sighed in relief. I didnā€™t die in a torture chamber after all. Iā€™d just woken up during the surgery. They couldā€™ve said so.
ā€œDo you need anything? Waterā€¦ foodā€¦ anything?ā€
ā€œWell, a hug would be nice.ā€
She smiled warmly and leaned over, wrapping her arms around my waist. She laid her head against my chest and I ran my fingers through her hair, untangling the knots.
ā€œI was so worriedā€¦ā€
ā€œThereā€™s no need, Danielle. Iā€™m fine.ā€
She looked up at me, her eyes moist and shiny. Scared.
ā€œā€¦Iā€¦ā€
ā€œYou what?ā€ I asked.
ā€œIā€¦ Iā€¦ Iā€¦ I love you, Chris.ā€
I lost my breath. I blinked a few times. Did I really hear what I just heard? She said my name. She remembered my name! And she loved me! My heart skipped a beat or two and I felt like I was going to die.
ā€œOh my god, I love you too, Danielle! I always have and I always will!ā€ I pulled her into a tight embrace, crying into her shoulder.
Some time passed before I pulled back and stared into her eyes, ā€œYou said my nameā€¦ā€
She laughed a little, ā€œSo I did.ā€
I shook my head and smiled, ā€œDo you remember me now?ā€
She nodded, ā€œI do. I met you in the library in 9t h grade. We had language arts together. We sat in the back at the kidney table. The first Friday after school started, we went to the movies and saw War of the Worlds and we were the only ones in the theatre. The next weekend we went to the beach, where we had our first kiss. The end of eleventh grade, we moved into that house on Prophet. Every

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