Page 32 of Brody

Page List

Font Size:

“Something’s wrong.” Sitting all the way up, I barely noticed that I was naked as I moved to the edge of the bed. “What happened? Did you hear something about Creed?”

There was an unrecognizable expression on Brody’s face as he looked at me, almost like he was cringing in slow motion. I didn’t know what it meant or what he was thinking, but it made something in the pit of my stomach drop.

With a sigh, Brody finished getting dressed, then sat next to me on the bed.

“Nothing’s happened. Well, at least nothing that hasn’t already happened.” He held up the wooden box with the key inside that we’d found buried in the woods. “I just need to tell Magnus about this. I forgot about it earlier, and he needs to know.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. His distress had nothing to do with me. He and Magnus fought yesterday, so he must be worried about speaking with his friend. That was understandable.

“I’m sure Magnus isn’t still upset. You two are friends, right. He’ll talk to you.”

I realized I was making a lot of assumptions about a situation I didn’t understand. I barely knew Magnus, after all. Maybe the man was the type to hold a grudge after a single fight. Yet, I found that hard to believe. Brody considered Magnus a close friend, and anyone that Brody held in such high regard couldn’t be a bad person.

Luckily, it seemed I was right, because Brody immediately nodded his head and agreed with me. “Yeah. You’re right.Magnus burns hot, but he doesn’t burn for long. He’s probably already forgotten about last night.”

There was that strange slow cringe expression again.

Was he lying and actually still worrying about Magnus, or was that expression caused by something else?

I got my answer a moment later.

“Look, Ellis…” Brody placed a hand on my leg that felt like it was supposed to be comforting, but the moment he made contact with my skin he pulled his hand away. “About last night… I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

That didn’t sound good. Nothing happy ever started with an apology. I didn’t need my memories to know that much.

Brody couldn’t look directly at me and occupied himself by buttoning up his shirt. “Yeah. It… it was a mistake. I never should have taken advantage of you like that.”

“Advantage?” I tried to reach out to him, but he pulled away from me again, so I kept my hands to myself. “You didn’t take advantage. I kissed you first. Remember? I definitely told you, multiple times, that I wanted it.”

“Yeah,” he agreed with me again, but his tone of voice still managed to make such a positive word sound like a death sentence. “But we have no way of knowing if you’d still agree if you had your memories. That feels like taking advantage.”

“But I…” The words died on my tongue.

What could I even say?

I couldn’t deny what he said. The truth was, I didn’t know what the version of ‘me’ with memories would want. For all I knew, my non-amnesia self was a raging homophobe, and when I regained my memories, I would be horrified by what I’d done.

Still, that was my risk to take, and I was willing to take it. However, before I could argue, another thought occurred to me.

“You’re right. We don’t know who I really am. I might turn out to be a murderous thief on the run from the law. Not someone you’d want to get involved with.”

I’d almost forgotten, but the vague memory of burying someone still lurked in my brain. Now, with the discovery of the key that had apparently been stolen from the police, my true identity wasn’t looking very good.

Of course, Brody didn’t want to risk getting in bed with a criminal.

Brody patted me on the shoulder, making sure to only touch me over the blanket that I had draped around me like a cloak.

“I really don’t think you’re some villainous murderer.” For the first time since waking up, he looked directly in my eyes, and his gaze still held the comfort I’d become familiar with. “I’ve seen enough death, and enough hardened killers to know you’re not one of them. There’s a… callousness to life that is so deeply engrained in the real villains of the world that even amnesia wouldn’t be able to get rid of. You don’t have that. If you did bury someone, even if you killed them, you must have had a good reason. I’m certain about that.”

A ray of morning sunlight snuck through the window, highlighting the dust hanging in the air around us and givingeverything a natural halo. It would have been a perfect morning to wake up next to a love, free of all worries.

Instead, I was twisting the edge of the blanket between my hands as more and more unpleasant thoughts piled on top of me.

“I’ll have to trust your opinion on it,” I said, trying to add in a laugh and failing. “I certainly don’t trust my own.”

His gaze didn’t stay on me as long as I would like. The moment I agreed with him, he looked away again.