The Greta Who Survived Time

Before Ethan Price lost his memory, everyone in Portwick knew that he loved Greta Hughes more than his own life. The bullet that tore through Ethan's chest when he saved her all those years ago was still lodged beneath his fourth rib to this day. To give her a place where she could live safely, he would turned against every major gang in Portwick. If anyone so much as displeased Greta, he wouldn't hesitate to make them bleed on the spot. No blinking, and no mercy. Greta had always believed they were bound together for this lifetime and the next, destined to share the same grave. Until Ethan was slashed across the back of the head and lost his memory. And forgot the woman he loved. When Greta walked in on him tangled in bed with his childhood sweetheart, Cara Kirk, her world collapsed. After that, for Cara's sake, he pointed a gun at Greta again and again. He even pushed her into the abyss with his own hands. Only when she died in front of him did Ethan finally remember everything. But by then, he had truly lost her. ... The day Ethan was injured, he had clung to Greta before leaving, holding her for a long time and refusing to let go. Like a spoiled child, he told her that when he came home, he had to eat the strawberry cake she made herself. Greta tried to talk him out of it. "If you don't go, it's not like one deal will make a difference." Ethan gently cupped her face, his expression uncharacteristically serious as he replied, "I can walk away from business, but the guy took the diamond ring you love most. I have to get it back for you myself." When he returned, the strawberry cake was ready. But he collapsed at the front steps, drenched in blood. Greta was terrified. She stayed by his bedside at the hospital for three days straight. Before he even woke up, she heard from his men that he had been hurt while saving Cara. Greta froze for a moment, but said nothing. She remained by Ethan's side, tending to him without rest or complaint. She told herself that no matter the reason, they could talk about it after he recovered. On the fifth day of Ethan's coma, Greta went home to change her clothes and made another strawberry cake. When she returned to the hospital room, she walked straight into hell. Ethan was entangled naked with another woman on the hospital bed. That woman was Cara, the very one he had nearly died for. His wounds had split open again, blood soaking deep into the white sheets, yet Cara was still riding him recklessly, as if his pain and blood meant nothing. On her ring finger gleamed the diamond ring Ethan had intended to retrieve for Greta. The ground seemed to drop out from under Greta. She stood frozen in the doorway, her heart twisting violently in her chest. She clenched her teeth, forcing her trembling voice steady, "Ethan, have you lost your mind? This could get you killed." But when he looked at her, his eyes were utterly vacant. "Get out," he said. His voice was still laced with desire, yet colder than ice. "Who are you? Who let you in here? If you don't want to die, get the hell out," he added. Cara turned her head and glanced at Greta from the corner of her eye, a mocking smile tugging at her lips. She stayed astride Ethan, completely indifferent to his bleeding wounds. Greta frowned, her gaze locked tightly onto Ethan. "I don't care what kind of game you're playing. You're still bleeding," Greta insisted. Her stare instantly killed his mood. Ethan got up and draped his clothes over Cara, his movements gentle and meticulous, as if afraid of hurting her, utterly unconcerned with the blood covering his own body. Cara climbed off the bed unwillingly. As she passed Greta, she raised an eyebrow at her in blatant provocation. A surge of fury rushed through Greta. She lifted her hand and slapped Cara hard across the face. "You got him hurt in the first place, and now you've torn his wounds open again. What exactly are you trying to do?!" Greta roared. Cara covered her cheek. Instead of getting angry, she laughed, "And who do you think you are, talking to me like that?" Ethan already forgot you. You're nothing now." Greta's eyes sharpened. "What did you say? Say that again and—" Before she could finish, Ethan grabbed the vase by the bedside and hurled it straight at her. Glass shattered. A shard sliced across her forehead. Blood dripped down from her brow, over her face, and onto the floor. He glared at her darkly. "What the hell are you? How dare you lay a hand on Cara?" Greta stared at him in disbelief, thinking she must have misheard. She wiped the blood smearing her vision and looked up at Ethan again. He was still the man who once loved her beyond reason. Yet now, there wasn't the slightest trace of feeling left in his eyes. "Who are you?" he demanded coldly. "Get out now, or die here." "Ethan, you really don't remember her anymore? Then… do you still remember me?" Cara asked as she threw herself into Ethan's arms. The sudden movement made him suck in a sharp breath of pain, yet he still couldn't bring himself to push her away. Instead, he smiled indulgently and tapped her nose. "Of course. You're the treasure Mr. Kirk and I protected. I would forget anyone before I would forget you," he replied. Cara was the only daughter of Ethan's former boss, the sole survivor left behind after a brutal bloodbath. They had grown up together—true childhood sweethearts. After the boss died, Ethan had been the one who took care of her. He remembered everyone, except Greta. Watching them flirt and laugh right in front of her, Greta suddenly felt sick. The killing intent she had buried after washing her hands clean and stepping into domestic life slowly resurfaced. No one had ever made her feel this disgusted. Not in the hellholes she had crawled out of before, and not now. She suddenly crouched down, picked up a shard of broken glass from the floor, and tapped Cara on the shoulder from behind. The moment Cara turned her head, Greta's hand flashed like lightning, slicing cleanly across her face. Ethan might have forgotten who she was, but she hadn't forgotten herself. Before he dragged her out of the Red Delta, she had been the last one standing in a human flesh fighting arena.