I hesitate then say, “I don’t remember you, but I get the feeling we used to be close?” It’s a statement, but it comes out as more of a question.
His lips break out in a devilish smirk. “Absolutely, sweetheart.” That husky voice sends a shiver down my spine that I try to repress. Sensing the question on the tip of my tongue he provides, “I’m Kylo, a…close family friend of yours.”
“Where are my parents?”
“Your parents moved out of the country a while ago. They trusted my family to watch over you before they left, until you moved out to live with your boyfriend at the time.”
Damnit.
At the time.
“Well, where is this boyfriend of mine?” I pry for any information I can get.
“Let’s just say, he was a piece of shit and you left him when you realized it.” There’s a strange glint in his eye, but I don’t get a chance to decipher it because the doctor chooses that moment to knock twice and let himself in.
The doctor discusses the same thing the nurse told me and then asks me some standard questions. The whole conversation is over in the blink of an eye. “Usually, we would have you stay a few more days to monitor you, but Mr. Kincaid has offered to look after you instead. He took care of any paperwork, so I will have someone bring you your belongings then you are free to leave. Remember to regularly put the ointment we give you on your cuts and burns and take one pill of each medication in the morning for the next week,” he says before leaving.
What?
You want to be free, so be free.
The phrase echoes in my head until a finger snap in my face pulls me out of it. “Did you hear me? I said the driver will be outside the east exit. I came on my bike so I will meet you guys at the compound.”
Someone is easily irritated.
“Who the hell said I agreed to leaving with you?” I snap.
“Where else will you go, Amaris?” I keep my mouth shut, knowing I don’t have the slightest clue. “Exactly, you have no one.”
As true as his words might be, it still stings to hear. I won’t let it show, though.
“I have no one, yet here you are. What does that say about you?” One brow quirks up at him.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he opens his mouth to speak, but when no words come out, he shuts it again. “I have no clue.” He takes a deep breath then starts again. “Look, you have nowhere to go and I’m here to give you a hand until you need it. You’ll be free to leave whenever you’re ready to.”
I consider my response. “So, I’ve been there before?”
“Yes, of course,” he says after a beat.
Nodding my head, I shut my eyes and say a silent, “Okay, fine. I’ll go with you.” Then turn my head in the opposite direction from him, listening to the taps of his footsteps fade away.
Kylo Kincaid. That name rings a bell in my head—at least he probably isn’t a stranger. He seemed to know personal information about me, but I need to remember more information about myself than some guy I hardly recognize, sooner rather than later.
The nurse from earlier enters the room, once again pulling me from my worries. In her hand is a big bag with items. The outline of a helmet reminds me of the wind blowing through my hair; that peaceful feeling that feels so foreign now. She helps me get out of the bed then informs me she’ll be back with my medication and a chair to wheel me outside before leaving me to change.
My entire body is on fire. Aside from my scratched-up helmet, I find jogger pants and a shirt, as well as my favorite leather jacket in the bag. I remember you. The man from the dealership sold me this jacket when he sold me my bike years ago. The clothes are kind of dirty, but they’ll do for now. When I unfold my pants, I find the dagger my dad gifted me when I was just a teenager. Tears prick my eyes when I try, and fail yet again, to visualize my parents’ faces.
Get it together, Amaris.
I distract myself by looking for any other items; my wallet, my phone, a purse, anything. Coming up short forces me to give up and change into my clothes. It takes me longer than usual since my body is battered up. I feel like I got hit by a bus. Once I leave this hospital I’ll dwell on everything. My main focus is leaving this room right now.
As I’m tying my shoelaces, the nurse returns with a wheelchair and prescription bag. She drones on about the long, complicated names of the pills I’ll be taking and what they’re for until we reach the exit. It doesn't take me long to find a sleek Lincoln Navigator waiting right outside when I roll out the double doors.
An older man—he seems to be in his late thirties—rounds the car when he sees me wheeled out and opens the door for me without a word, or making eye contact, for that matter. That set the tone for the rest of the ride back to wherever it is that we are going: quiet and weird.
I hope I’m not making a big mistake here.
Luckily, the drive was short, saving me from the prolonged awkward silence. We pull into a gated property that stretches so far back, I can’t tell where it ends. The estate to my left is the first thing that catches my eye. This must be the main house. It’s a huge, cream-colored two-story house with bushes decorating the walkway to the stairs that lead to the front door. Bushes so green they look fake—I’m pretty sure they are fake. I count at least nine windows and that’s only from the front. There seems to be a huge car garage attached to the side of the mansion, too.