Page 7 of Dark Knight

They want to spend time with me?

Nobody has ever said that to me before. I’ve never had anyone want to be around me after they learn of my condition and that it’s not a one-off. I’ve never been in the company of a man who wasn’t someone else’s friend, let alone one who seemed to like me.

And kissed me.

My body still buzzes from the way he took my mouth. The way he swept his tongue past my lips and licked across every crevice he could while my hands ventured out and touched him back. I could tell he was restraining himself. I don’t know how I knew, but I did, and I didn’t want him to.

“Don’t run too far!” Nolan yells out at Sawyer as the boy runs along the road's edge, searching the grass for snakes. “Tell me about the memory loss.” I’m shocked when he says this and grasps my hand, interlacing our fingers.

“Not a lot to tell. It’s called Transient Global Amnesia, or TGA for short. I was diagnosed when I was five.” I don’t want him to ask more questions, but I know he’s going to.

“What causes it?”

“It’s different for a lot of people.”

“And for you…” I wish he would drop it. I wish I could ask him to, but I realize his curiosity isn’t born out of his desire to use it against me. It's genuine.

Glancing at him through my lowered lashes, I ask instead, “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Wouldn’t ask otherwise.”

Blowing out a breath, I search for calm. I’m always torn between anger and sadness when discussing the woman who gave me life. “My mother was an addict; being pregnant didn’t stop her, and I’m the one who suffered the consequences.” Glancing around, I see the lake house in the distance, and I become sad that our time is coming to an end. Even though Nolan wants to spend more time with me, I won’t be allowed to.

“More than the TGA?” I feel his eyes on me, penetrating, observant, curious.

“I didn’t speak until I was almost five. It’s why it took so long to figure out I had it. I had these terrible episodes, and I would become violent, petrified of everyone around me, and helpless to stop it. I couldn’t communicate that I had no idea who I was, let alone how to tell them I didn’t recognize them, and so I was heavily medicated a lot as a child, even after the diagnosis. Because how do you tell a child with no memory about who they are, where they’re supposed to be, and that the people they don’t know are their family? It was easier to drug me and wait for me to come out of it than deal with the fallout every time.” Telling someone for the first time what happened, even after my diagnosis, feels good. I don’t feel so crazy.

“They drugged you. For how long?” He's aghast. Sawyer stops in the grass to poke at something before kicking his foot and moving on.

Nolan won't be happy with this response. “Until I was about twelve.”

His fingers clench on mine, and I know without looking that he’s pissed off.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” That’s pretty much how I feel about it too. “That’s criminal.”

I stare at him because it doesn’t matter what it is. It's my life, and I don’t get a say in it, given I’m not of sound mind and body. At least, that’s how it was explained to me years ago. I’m reliant and dependent on my father and stepmother, and there’s nothing anyone can do for me.

Stopping, I get yanked back when Nolan pulls on my arm. “Is there no cure?” Flush to his body, he dives a hand into my messy hair, cupping the back of my head.

“You’re not going to like it.” Nolan cups the side of my neck with his other hand, and I see Sawyer from the corner of my eye as he’s stopped, watching us. This man leans down, pressing our heads together, eyes closed, and nods his assurance. “The stress, the…abuse”—his eyes fly open at the word, and in them, I catch flaming rage. “If it stopped, the TGA might resolve, or at least occur less frequently, and I might be able to have an actual life.”

“Abuse.” He grits out the word with so much menace that I try to step back, but he won’t let me. “Who the fuck is hurting you?”

“Bean Plant Daley! Where the hell have you been?” my stepmother’s grating voice interrupts before I can answer him. I watch as his eyes widen at the use of my full name.

“You’re named after a vegetable?” Sawyer asks and gazes up at me inquisitively. I respond with an uneasy smile as I nod.

“Well? Are you going to answer me or be a brat and ignore me like usual?” Her shrill voice has me clenching my jaw.

“I’m sorry, I had an episode, and Nolan was kind enough to let me stay with him and his nephew last night.” I already know what’s headed my way as my sisters come outside.

Their eyes immediately take in the way Nolan is holding me, how close we are, and their claws extend with vengeance. “Would you look at that? Seems little miss Bean isn’t as innocent as we thought.” Amari laughs.

“I bet she faked it so she could warm his bed.” Elsa glares at me. She’s angry because she wanted that honor.

“Are you going to introduce your conquest?” Flora finally asks, and I feel my cheeks ignite, a mix of embarrassment and anger from their assumptions.

“I didn’t fake anything, I swear,” I whisper to Nolan as I meet his gaze. “I wouldn’t even think to do that.”

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