by Susan Stoker
Ghost stared at Truck in dismay. “Truck…Hollywood’s not here. He stayed back stateside this time.”
“No, he didn’t. We were talking right before we called in for air support to kill these motherfucking terrorists.”
Ghost swallowed hard. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. “What were you talking about?” he asked.
“About tonight. About how we’re finally gonna get some R&R, pick up some chicks, and get some pussy.”
“Oh, shit,” Fletch said, and Ghost saw him lower his weapon.
“Truck, put down the weapon,” Ghost demanded again and took a step toward his friend. “I’m ordering you to stand down.”
Truck’s eyes met Ghost’s and the confusion was easy to see. And the pain. “Did they get Hollywood? What aren’t you telling me?”
Just then, one of the girls in the truck sobbed loud enough to be heard from where the standoff was happening. Truck turned toward the sound, his brows furrowed in confusion.
Ghost didn’t hesitate. He leaped toward his friend and slammed his hand down on Truck’s forearm, making him grunt in pain and, more importantly, drop the pistol he’d been holding. Ghost swept his leg out, taking Truck’s feet out from under him.
The large man fell to the dirt like a rock and grunted in pain once again when he landed. Ghost immediately went to his head and cradled it, while Beatle, Coach, and Trigger leapt on top of him to keep him down.
“Watch his ribs!” Ghost yelled. They needed to subdue and control their friend, but not hurt him more than he already was.
But Truck wasn’t moving. He stared up at Ghost in confusion. “What’s going on?”
“You were hurt, buddy. You hit your head.”
“Yeah, it hurts,” Truck agreed.
“Where are we?”
“What?”
“Where are we, Truck?”
“Iraq.”
“Fuck,” Ghost heard someone swear from above them, but he didn’t take his gaze from his friend’s. “How old are you?”
“Why?”
“Humor me.”
“Thirty-five.”
Ghost closed his eyes for a second in despair, then opened them again.
Truck was thirty-eight. Three years ago they had been in Iraq. They’d been on a mission that had complications, just like this one, and they’d had to call in the Air Force to drop some bombs to give them cover and to help dispatch the terrorists who’d surrounded them.
“Does the name Rayne mean anything to you?”
Truck’s brows furrowed again. “Like the water from the sky? Just that we’ve been in this damn country so long, I think I’ve forgotten what it looks like.”
“What about Emily? Kassie? Annie?”
“Are those the chicks you’ve lined up for when we get to Kuwait for our R&R?” Truck asked.
“No. Think, Truck. What about Mary?”
“I don’t know anyone named Mary. What’s going on?”
Instead of answering, Ghost patted Truck’s chest. “These are our friends,” he told him, gesturing to Lefty and the others. “They were helping us. Don’t shoot them, okay?”
“Where’s Hollywood?”
“He’s fine. I swear. He’s traveling ahead of us, making sure the coast is clear.”
Truck seemed to ponder that information for a moment before nodding.
“You ready to get out of here?” Ghost asked.
Truck nodded again. “Think I can get a painkiller? My head really hurts. It’s hard for me to even see straight.”
“Of course.” Then for the second time, Truck was helped to his feet by his teammates. But this time they all exchanged worried glances. They helped Truck to a beat-up truck nearby, one without any kids in it, and got him situated in the back seat.
Ghost watched in silence then turned when he felt a hand on his arm.
“Amnesia?” Trigger asked softly.
“Looks that way. He must’ve hit his head on a metal box we found behind him.” Ghost shook his head. “Rattled his brain. Fuck. This is bad.”
“I’m sure it’s temporary. Once his brain has had a chance to heal, he’ll remember,” Trigger offered tentatively.
“I hope so,” Ghost said. “I sure as fuck hope so.”
Chapter Five
Mary was sitting on the couch watching the first season of Stranger Things on Netflix. She couldn’t wait for Truck to get home to watch it with her. Of course, she wasn’t going to wait for him to get home to watch it herself. She’d be more than happy to see it again and catch all the things she was sure she was missing this time around.
She was still binging on it when there was a knock on the door.
Surprised, Mary paused the show and headed for the door. Truck’s apartment felt more like home than her own did at this point. Of course, without Truck there, it simply felt empty…much like her own apartment.
Looking through the peephole, she saw Hollywood standing there.
Internally freaking out, Mary quickly unlocked the door and took the chain off. She whipped the door open and before Hollywood could say anything, she blurted, “Is Kassie okay? Kate?”
Hollywood nodded and said, “Yes. They’re both fine.”
“Thank God,” Mary said, resting a hand on her chest in relief. Opening the door wider, she gestured for him to enter. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.”
Mary followed Hollywood inside and locked the door behind them as Truck had taught her. She never used to worry about locking up when she was home, but since living with Truck, and watching him constantly worry about her safety, it had become a habit.
Hollywood stopped just inside the living room and turned to her. “I have some bad news.”
Mary’s legs nearly collapsed under her. Her eyes got wide and she heard a ringing in her ears. “Truck?” she asked.
Hollywood nodded.
The room spun and Mary wavered on her feet.
Not Truck. No. Not when she was finally ready to open up to him and tell him that she cared about him and wanted to be his wife for real.
Seeing her sway, Hollywood swore under his breath and put a hand on her elbow, and led her to the couch. As soon as she was sitting, he pulled the coffee table closer and sat on it. He reached forward and took her cold hands in his large warm ones and squeezed. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Truck is alive. He’s okay.”
When Mary didn’t respond, but simply stared at him with wide eyes, he said, “Did you hear me, Mary? Truck is okay. He was injured, but he’s alive.”
Mary’s breath left her in a rush. She’d been so scared that Truck had been killed she hadn’t been able to think about anything else. At Hollywood’s words, she relaxed a fraction. “Where is he? Can we go and see him?”
The man in front of her shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”
Mary’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean? He’s at a hospital, right? Is he in Germany? I know that’s where a lot of soldiers go when they’re injured overseas.”
“Yeah, he’s in Germany at the moment.”
Mary tried to stand. “Then let’s go. I’ll pack a bag real quick.”
Hollywood’s fingers squeezed hers once more, preventing her from standing. “You can’t go and see him, Mary. I’m sorry.”
“Why not? I’m his wife. The Army can’t keep me from him!” She knew she sounded hysterical, but she was feeling extremely shaky and off-kilter. The possibility of Truck or one of the other guys being hurt or killed was always there when they went on a mission, but experiencing it firsthand was a hundred times more horrible than she’d ever thought. “Was he hurt worse than what you’re saying? Is he dying? Dammit, Hollywood, tell me!”
“He has amnesia,” Hollywood said sadly without beating around the bush. “He doesn’t remember who you are…much less that he’s married.”
Mary stared at the handsome soldier in shock. “Amnesia?”
“Yeah. He hit his head really hard on the mission and it rattled his brain something awful.”
&nb
sp; Tears formed in Mary’s eyes, but she blinked them away. “What does he remember?”
“Basically, he’s lost the last three years of his life. He knows me and the guys. Knows he’s in the Army. He knows everything up until one of our missions in Iraq about three years ago. When he woke up, he thought that’s where he was.”
“But he’s okay otherwise?”
“Yeah, Mare. A doctor in Germany has checked him out and said other than the concussion, a few cracked ribs,—and the amnesia, of course—he’s fine.”
“Maybe seeing me will jog his memory,” she said somewhat lamely.
The compassion in Hollywood’s eyes nearly did her in.
“I talked to Ghost today, he and the others are staying with Truck in Germany until he’s released…and he said that Truck got extremely agitated when Fletch told him he was married. He refused to believe him, thought the guys were playing a joke. The doctor’s recommending, for now, to bring him home but to limit his interactions with others for a while. They want to see if coming back to his apartment will trigger his memories naturally. It can be extremely jarring for someone in his situation to be confronted with people who know him, but who he doesn’t remember.”
“But he will remember, won’t he?” Mary whispered.
Hollywood’s lips pressed together before he said, “They just don’t know, Mary. Sometimes patients like him get their memories back all at once. Other times they remember bits and pieces, but not everything. And there are also cases when the person never remembers what they lost. They just forge a new life from the time the injury happened.”
Mary ripped her hands out of Hollywood’s grip to cover her mouth in horror. “He might not ever remember me? Everything we’ve been through?”
“I’m sorry…but it’s possible that he’ll never remember.”
“Oh, God.”
Mary felt Hollywood’s hand on her shoulder, but she couldn’t process what was happening. She’d assumed Truck would get home, she’d tell him that she wanted to make their marriage work, and they’d live happily ever after. But if he didn’t know her, didn’t know anything about her fight with cancer, their marriage, or that he’d sworn to love her forever…how in the hell would they live happily ever after?
She had no idea what she’d done to make him love her in the first place. No clue how to get him to do it a second time.
“I’ve lost him,” Mary said in a barely there whisper. “The only reason I caught his eye was because of Rayne. If he doesn’t know any of us, how can I make him love me again?”
Hollywood moved to the couch next to her and took Mary into his arms. For the first time since she’d heard the second diagnosis of cancer, Mary felt completely discouraged.
“He loved you from the first moment he saw you,” Hollywood told her. “And I have every confidence that he’ll get through this. He’ll remember.”
“You don’t know that,” Mary said.
“I do. Truck is stubborn, but so are you. And the rest of the team.”
“But if you aren’t supposed to expose him to people who might agitate him, how are you going to get him to remember?”
“I don’t know. We’re as shocked by this as you are, Mary. But I swear to you, we’re gonna figure this out.”
Something else Hollywood said finally settled in her brain. “If he’s supposed to come back here to his apartment, I’m going to have to move out, aren’t I?”
Hollywood sighed. “I’m sorry, but…yeah. Just for the short term. We’re hoping when he gets back here, his subconscious will kick in and he’ll remember all the time he spent with you here, and the rest of his memory will return.”
Mary looked around and winced. Over the last few months, she’d slowly moved most of her things here. There were pictures of her and Rayne on the walls. Her favorite books on the shelves. Her sheets were on their bed. Her hair stuff was in the shower. Even her favorite foods were in the cupboards. Thinking about removing every single thing from Truck’s apartment was extremely painful. Removing her very presence felt like a permanent step. An extremely agonizing one.
Hollywood went on, unaware of the blow he’d inadvertently dealt her. “The girls are going to come over to help later today. We don’t know when Truck and the others will return but we thought it’d be better to be prepared. Emily said you could stay at her place if you wanted.”
Mary shook her head, feeling numb. “No, I still have my apartment.”
She didn’t tell Hollywood that she’d planned to call her landlord and officially end her lease after she talked to Truck when he got home. It was silly to keep it when she was living with Truck full-time.
No need to do that now.
Hollywood’s phone vibrated in his pocket and Mary pulled back, giving him room to pull it out. He read the text and winced. “I have to go, Mare. That’s Kassie. She’s freaking out because she thinks Kate is making weird noises.”
Mary nodded. “Go. It’s fine.”
“I don’t want to leave you. Come with me.”
She immediately shook her head. Mary didn’t want to be around anyone. Especially not Kassie, who was blissfully happy with her new daughter. She loved the woman, but she couldn’t deal with that right now. Not when her own world was crumbling around her. “I’ll be fine.”
“Mary,” Hollywood chastised.
Mary didn’t like the note of pity she heard in his tone and straightened her spine, pulling the old Mary up from somewhere deep inside. “I’m fine. Seriously. Go. You have more things to worry about than me. You did your duty and told me what you had to. I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick on that, Hollywood. Sucks that you were here and not in Germany with the guys. I’ll just pack up my shit and get out of here. We both knew this was too good to last anyway. Truck deserves better than me.”
She was unprepared for the way Hollywood gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. Or for the look of frustration on his face. “Don’t. Don’t pull out the bitch with me. Truck loves you, and I understand that I just laid some heavy shit on you and you’re trying to adjust, but I swear to God, me and the others are going to do everything possible to help him regain his memories. We need your help. Don’t give up on him so easily. You know if the tables were turned, he wouldn’t give up on you.”
“He only married me so I could use his insurance,” Mary protested weakly, knowing, even as she said it, that she didn’t really believe it. “It’s better that he doesn’t remember that.”
“Bullshit. I know this is your defense mechanism talking, but you don’t have to do that with me. I know you.”
Mary stood, dislodging Hollywood’s hands. She moved away from him until the small kitchen table was between them. “Believe me, he doesn’t need to remember all the nights he knelt behind me as I puked into the toilet. Or my hair falling out. Did you know when you go through chemo you can lose all your hair? Not just the stuff on your head. I didn’t care so much about the arm hair or my pubes, but losing my eyebrows and nose hairs sucked. You have no idea how much those little suckers do until you don’t have them. I sneezed all the time because of the shit that got into my nose and I sniffed so much I know people probably wondered if I was doing drugs. I won’t even get into how many nose bleeds I had as a result.”
Hollywood looked shocked, but Mary kept going. “I’ve been nothing but trouble for Truck. I’m not exactly the right kind of woman to be an Army spouse. I’ll eventually say the wrong thing to the wrong person and it’ll hurt his career. This is his chance to start over. Find a nice shy woman who’ll treat him gently and won’t be a pain in his ass. If he does eventually remember, he’ll probably be relieved to have gotten out of his marriage so easily.”
Hollywood shook his head in disappointment. “We hoped you’d feel differently.”
Mary was having a hard time feeling anything other than crushing despair. She was barely aware of his words. She just wanted him to go. In reply, she merely shrugged.
“I’m still
going to call the others. They’ll be here in a few hours to help you pack and to help get you settled back into your apartment. I know you’re just trying to push me away, and I’m not going to let that happen. Put the bitch aside and fight for your man, Mary. He needs you.” And with that, Hollywood walked toward the front door. He unlocked it and turned to her before leaving. “Lock this behind me,” he ordered gently, then left.
The click of the door shutting was all it took to break Mary’s composure. She crumpled to the floor where she stood, although no tears fell from her eyes. She deserved Hollywood’s frustration. He had every right to be disappointed, but he’d actually gone pretty easy on her. As he’d pointed out, she’d unleashed the bitch, but it was to protect herself. She couldn’t deal with his pity.
She wanted Truck. Wanted him to put his arms around her and tell her that everything would be fine. But she wasn’t going to get that. Maybe not ever again.
She had no idea how she’d ever get Truck to love her a second time. She wasn’t like other women. She didn’t dress up, had never “simpered” in her life, and she certainly wasn’t a damsel in distress anymore.
Curling up into a ball, Mary racked her brain for ways she could get through to Truck. How she could make him remember her.
How long she lay there, she had no clue, but when there was a tentative knock on the door, she couldn’t muster up the energy to get up and answer it.
“Mary?” she heard Rayne call out.
She didn’t bother to answer.
“Mary?” her best friend said again, this time closer. She’d opened the unlocked door and entered the apartment. When she saw Mary on the floor of the dining room, she rushed over.
“Oh my God, Mary, are you okay?”
Mary looked up at her best friend and the tears she hadn’t been able to shed finally formed. “What am I going to do?” And with that, Mary burst into tears. Cried like she hadn’t cried since she was five years old and one of the nicer uncles had left.
Four hours later, Mary sat on her couch in her own apartment on the other side of town. Rayne had called the others and within thirty minutes, Harley, Casey, Sadie, and Wendy had arrived at Truck’s apartment to help her.
