I catalogue the details as the memories begin to fracture.A torn black dress.Matching ballet flats with pink flowers on the toes.The arrow tattoo with script, and a pink hummingbird inked on her hand.A full garbage bag at her feet.We’re all standing in a dirty alley.
And then there’s the fact she’s warning me to stay back with one hand, while seeming to beg Veno for her life with her wide and tear-filled eyes.
My little bird.
Some memories, like this one, make me so sick it’s all I can do not to lose the contents of my stomach.
The tattoos I know well.One old-fashioned arrow, a dream catcher under the head, with feathers, and cursive script below.The bird matches mine; it’s pink, and mine’s black.
The garbage bag, though… without a double check in my journal, I don’t know if it’s a new feather or a lost detail I’ve recovered.
These rapid flashes are a short glimpse into the past.They rarely make any sense.I call them feathers because they’re feathers to follow like puzzle pieces or breadcrumbs, each leading me further down the trail my little bird left behind.
But why these?Why now?
After the Humvee incident, followed by surgery, it’d taken months before the doctor deemed me healthy enough to get discharged from the VA hospital.Rehabilitation followed.When I returned to my life in New Mexico, nothing seemed right.I knew I was missing memories, but how many had taken some time to determine.I discovered I’d sold my home and relocated to a leased apartment on the other side of town.The apartment I tracked through cashed checks.When I got there, it was trashed, as if it’d been searched, and the utter lack of girlish belongings sent me reeling.
Most likely, she’d taken off to avoid the evil son of a bitch in this exact memory.Veno was still hounding me about her whereabouts, still looking to get payback for whatever she’d done, so this, at least, gave me hope that she’d made it out of New Mexico alive.
She’s a ghost, and one I’ve been searching for since.
Distantly, I hear the woman ask if I’m okay.Bodie assures her I am and to just give me a moment.
When the pain dissipates, my gaze returns to the too-sexy, angelic face and those striking eyes.Fierce kitten eyes.At first glance, they seem bright and clear, but as I look a bit deeper, they show a wariness, an edge of uncertainty, and maybe even a speck of vulnerability.I can’t help but ask myself, are they “love me”eyes?I think so.They’re the same color as a forget-me-not, but I’ve jumped to conclusions before, and it’s bitten me in the ass.
Could this be mylittle bird?I’m scared to hope when it’s only ever made me look fucking mad.And I hate that I’m handicapped by my inability to remember.
But I have fuck all to go off to find her.And I’m starting to lose the plot.Not only do the flashbacks make my migraines worse, but the aftermath drains me.And that makes me irritable and incapable of suffering through my worst days without needing something to take the edge off.
I hear Bodie ask, “You got a name?”
“Lily.”
Lily.Just as beautiful, but not the name I’m aching to hear.
“I’m Reese Rivers.Everybody calls me Bodie, and this is Finn.He goes by Goose.”He bobs his chin in my direction.
She reaches out very businesslike and offers her slim hand to him first and then to me.It catches me off guard initially, but I finally extend my own and shake hers.I note how her hand is half the size of mine, her skin like satin and warm to the touch.
“Have we ah… maybe met before?”I ask.There is a palpable energy as we clasp hands.It builds the longer we hold.
Out of my peripheral vision, I see Bodie palm his face and shake his head.His blond waves bounce with the motion.
Yeah, fuck him.If there’s a slight chance it’s her, I’m gonna ask.You’d think, with as long as we’ve been friends, he’d have gotten over his second-hand embarrassment issues, but no.He tries to hide my disability, shield me from the fallout, or at least other people’s reaction to it.
Me?I don’t have time, nor the patience, for shitty people.So I don’t give a fuck.
Lily’s eyes hold my gaze for an exceptionally long time.She very slowly shakes her head, then looks away.“No, uh, not that I know of.I think I’d remember something like that.”Nothing in her body language belies her words, so I take them at face value.It’s another letdown, but it is what it is.
Bodie gestures to me.“I keep telling him he needs some new lines, but he refuses to listen.He thinks he has to go old school so chicks’ll think he’s as old as the hair makes him look.”
“Oh yeah?”Lily laughs.
Fuck you, Rivers.I glare at him.He makes a face back at me like he’s ten goddamn years old.Another aspect of our friendship.He’s doing his thing.The thing he does where he thinks he needs to speak for me.Most women assume it’s because I’m shy or some shit.This couldn’t be further from the truth.I talk when Ineedto.I say what Ineedto.I speak to those important to me.My circle is small and filled with the people I trust.Which is the way I like it.
My deadpan glare tells him he’ll pay for this shit later.
When my attention moves back to Lily, I find that she’s checking me out.My tattoos.A steady heat spreads through my chest.I try to tamp it down, even though I secretly like how she’s eyeing me.Like I’m a mystery she’s trying to solve.