by L. Wilder
“Yes and no,” I told him as I stepped inside his office. “She still can’t remember her name or where she came from, but she’s having these fucked up dreams.”
“What kind of dreams?”
“The kind where some guy is beating the hell out of her.” I went on, “It would explain all the old scars. Maybe it was an old boyfriend or—”
“It could’ve been anyone. That’s the problem, Diesel. For all we know, it could’ve been someone close to her, or it could’ve been another club using her as a plant.”
“Do you really think it’s possible that she’s with another club?”
He shrugged. “It’s unlikely, but we’ve got to play this thing safe, brother. We can’t take any chances until we know what’s going on with her.”
“I understand, but I gotta tell ya … there’s someone in those dreams who’s scaring the hell out of her.”
“This weather should be clearing out in the next day or two; hopefully, once the roads are in better shape, we can get out there and find something that’ll give us some answers.” He leaned back in his chair as he looked at me and said, “For now, keep doing what you’re doing. Maybe one of those damn nightmares will help her remember something.”
“You got it.”
As I started for the door, Cotton called out to me. “Diesel?”
“Yeah?”
“Be careful with this girl. For all we know she’s got a whole other life out there … a family, kids … a husband. You don’t want to find yourself in a situation that’s hard to get out of, if you know what I mean.”
I nodded, and without saying a word, I left. There was nothing I could say anyway. I knew exactly what he meant, but it was too late. I was already in too deep.
Chapter 8
Ellie
It had been days since my accident, and Doc no longer believed that my amnesia had anything to do with my concussion. After Diesel told him about the nightmares I’ve been having, he decided that my lack of memory was my mind’s way of protecting me from whatever had happened to me. At first, I thought he was wrong, but when I saw the scars that marked my body, I started to think differently. I couldn’t imagine how I’d acquired so many injuries, unless my dreams weren’t actually dreams. I spent hours trying to force myself to remember something, anything. I needed to find the answers that were hidden away in the back of my mind, but all I found were more questions. It was utterly exhausting, and when I couldn’t take it a moment longer, I curled up into a ball and tried to get some sleep. Like many times before, just as I started to drift off, I felt myself being pulled into a place where I didn’t want to be. I was standing in darkness with the sound of his voice echoing through the room.
“Every goddamn day, it’s always the same thing with you. You’re always running your fucking mouth about something,” he barked.
“I … uh …” I stammered.
“What? Spit it out, you stupid piece of shit, or better yet, don’t!” He reared his hand back and slammed it across my cheek, busting open my bottom lip.
I felt the blood trickle from my mouth as I brought my hand up to my face. I tried to force myself to look at him, but I was too scared. When he started shouting again, I realized that not knowing what was causing me such heartache and pain was much more terrifying than seeing it right in front of my face, so I raised my head to look at him. That’s when I saw his angry, black eyes staring back at me. “What? You got something to say, bitch?”
“Who are you?” I mumbled.
“Who am I?” He laughed maniacally, then charged towards me as he growled, “I’m your worst fucking nightmare!”
He wrapped his hands around my neck, and as he stood there choking me, his lips curled into a wicked smile. He tightened his hold, then brought his mouth to my ear and whispered, “You’re pathetic. Why don’t you do us both a favor and just fucking die?”
My heart raced as I tugged at his hands, and just as I felt myself start to fade away, I inhaled a deep breath and sat up in the bed. I was still gasping when Diesel came charging into the room. “Are you okay?”
I held my hand up, letting him know I needed a minute, and once I was able to collect myself, I threw the covers back and stood up. “I need to get out of here. Please.”
“Okay. We can do that,” he answered calmly. “You want to grab something to eat?”
“I’m not really hungry.”
I could see the concern in his eyes as he led me out of the room, and I wasn’t sure if he knew where he should take me as we started down the hall. I’d only been out a couple of times, when I’d gone to the kitchen for a bite to eat or down to the infirmary with Doc, so I really hadn’t gotten a chance to see much of the clubhouse. Since I’d been there, it had been relatively quiet, making me wonder what these men did during the day. I could only assume that they had their own lives outside of the club, working and spending time with their families. My curiosity got the best of me, and I found myself trying to peek into the different rooms as we walked by. Unfortunately, most of the doors were closed, so I couldn’t see much. As we started down a second hall, I could hear voices rumbling, and it only got louder as we continued walking. When we finally stopped, Diesel opened a large door, and the sounds of children’s laughter came barreling out. I stepped inside and found several kids sitting on a big, L-shaped sofa, and they were playing some video game on the large TV that was mounted on the wall.
We stood and watched them for a moment, and I couldn’t help but smile as I watched the young, blond-headed boy with Down Syndrome twist and turn in his seat as he tried to keep his guy on the screen in motion while the boy on the end shouted different directions to the girl sitting between them. She was a good amount older than them, maybe thirteen or fourteen, and she was beautiful. Her eyebrows furrowed as her character fell off the mountain and faded away. When they started arguing back and forth, Diesel walked over to them and said, “Hey, Dusty. Who’s winning?”
His eyes lit up with pride as he announced, “I’m beating Lauren.”
The little boy at the other end of the sofa looked over to Diesel and said, “She won the last game, though.”
“What about you, Wyatt? Have you been playing?”
“No,” Lauren answered for him. “He’s been too busy telling me how to play.”
“I’d like you all to meet a friend of mine.” When he motioned his hand in my direction, they all turned to look at me with little frowns on their faces. “This is Lucky.”
“Is she the one who’s been sick?” Wyatt asked.
“Yeah, but she’s feeling better now.” He smiled as he continued, “We’re going to play a game of pool. Do any of you want to play with us?”
In unison, they all answered, “No, thank you.”
“Okay, then. Your loss.”
He walked over to the pool table, and as he started lining up the balls, I told him, “I don’t know how to play pool.”
“That’s okay.” He gave me a wink. “I’ll teach you.”
He walked over and took two pool sticks down from the rack and handed one to me. “Now, what?”
“Now, you watch as I break.” There was something about the way he smiled that made me instantly feel at ease, and I found myself drawn to him in a way I hadn’t expected. I’d thought he was attractive from the start. Who wouldn’t? The guy was every girl’s dream with his tall, muscular build and chiseled jaw, but his wicked good looks weren’t the only thing that drew me to him. It was the way he made me feel. With just a touch of his hand, the low, sexy sound of his voice, or an unexpected smile, he could make me forget the hell I was going through. I watched as he leaned over the table and rested the end of the stick on the curve of his thumb, sliding it quickly towards the white ball. It rushed forward and slammed into the other balls, causing them to disperse across the table. When one of the striped balls fell into the pocket, he looked over to me and announced, “I’m stripes.”
After he moved to the other end of the table and p
repared to take another shot, I said, “I think you have an unfair advantage.”
Smiling, he made his play and when he missed his mark, I knew he’d done it on purpose. “Your turn.”
“I think I’ll just watch you.”
“Come on.” He motioned me over to him. “You can do this.”
“If you say so.” I stepped over to the table with the pool stick in my hand and tried to position myself where I might actually be able to hit the white ball with the small end of the stick. As I leaned towards the table, my focus was on the ball, and I didn’t realize that Diesel had come up behind me. When he reached around me to help, he caught me by surprise, and I yelped. With my heart racing, I jumped back like I’d been hit by lightning, and as I clung to the pool stick, I tried to calm the panic that was rushing through my veins. I had no idea why I’d reacted like that, and as soon as the fear started to subside, it was replaced with embarrassment.
“Hey, I’m sorry about that. I was just trying to help. Are you okay?”
“Um … yeah. I don’t know what that was all about.” Diesel had been nothing but a gentleman to me since the moment we’d met, and I hated that I made him think he’d done something wrong. “I guess I wasn’t expecting you to come up behind me. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry about, angel. I should’ve given you a heads up.”
I put the pool stick down. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.”
“Sure, it was. You’ll see,” he assured me. “Now, grab that stick and give it another try.” He held up his hands and smiled as he teased. “I’ll stay over here and keep my hands to myself.”
And just like that, he’d managed to get me back on track. I walked back over to the table, and as I took the pool stick back in my hand, I tried my best to make the shot. To my surprise, the ball dropped into the pocket. My mouth fell open, and I turned to him with disbelief. “Did you see that?”
“I did. Now, do it again.”
Each time I prepared to take my shot, he’d do his best to give me pointers, but he did it at a distance. When it was his turn, I found myself watching his every move—the way he cocked his eyebrow as he studied the ball, the sway of his hip when he made his shot, and the sexy smirk that crossed his face when the ball slipped into the side pocket. Diesel got to me in ways I couldn’t begin to explain. Being with him made me forget that I was the girl who had no name—along with a past I couldn’t remember. As I stood there staring at him, I realized that there was a positive side to not being able to remember who I was. I was given the chance to be whatever I wanted to be, and at that moment, I just wanted to be happy.
Just as we were finishing our game, Lauren came over to the table and asked, “Can I play?”
“You tired of playing Mario?” Diesel asked.
“No. I’m tired of listening to them argue.” She let out a huff and added, “They’re as bad as listening to Cotton and Maverick fight about football.”
“Damn. That’s pretty bad.” Diesel chuckled as he handed her the pool stick. “Why don’t you take the next shot and show Lucky here how it’s done.”
With a look of determination, she leaned over the table and took her shot, landing the ball straight into the side pocket. Lauren repeated the same move for the next three shots, ending the game with a huge win. “How’s that?”
“That was amazing!” I answered.
“Cotton taught me how to play. He’s the best.”
“That he is,” Diesel agreed. “You want another go?”
“Sure.”
We started another game, and it wasn’t long before the boys came over to join us. After several plays, the boys took over our game, leaving Diesel and I sitting to the side watching as they both tried to beat Lauren. Unfortunately for them, she couldn’t be beat. When they started a second game, Diesel leaned over to me and asked, “How ‘bout we go grab something to eat?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Thank God. Not sure how much more of this I can take.” He took my hand in his and led me towards the door. Before we walked out, he turned to them and said, “Try not to kill each other while we’re gone.”
“We won’t,” Wyatt promised.
When we got to the kitchen, Diesel made his way over to the refrigerator and asked, “What are you in the mood for?”
“Anything is fine.”
He looked over his shoulder as he asked, “Are you always so easy to please?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.” I teased him.
“Oh, yeah. Well, something tells me that kind of thing sticks with a person whether they can remember their name or not.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely.” He pulled out a pan of lasagna, and as he cut each of us a piece, he said, “I figure it’s like that with lots of stuff.”
“Such as?”
“You know. The fundamentals of someone’s personality. Their likes and dislikes. The side of the bed you sleep on. Stuff like that.” He put the plate in the microwave, then he continued, “It’s not like you’re suddenly going to start loving broccoli when you spent your whole life hating it.”
“I guess that makes sense.” I went to the cabinet and got each of us a glass, then filled them with ice water. After I put them on the table, I asked, “Do you like broccoli?”
“Not a fan. Don’t like asparagus either.”
“What side of the bed do you sleep on?”
He thought for a moment, then he said, “The side closest to the door.”
“So, it’s all about the door and not really the side?” I asked.
“I hadn’t really thought about it, but yeah. I like being close to an exit in case something happens. Quick escape and all.”
Once the lasagna was warmed up, he brought it over to the table, and we both sat down. We’d just started to eat, when I looked over to him and asked, “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure. Whatcha got on your mind?”
“What makes someone decide to be part of a motorcycle club?”
“It’s different for everyone, but for me, I like the comradery that comes with being part of the brotherhood. It’s hard to explain, really. I had a good family life and all that, but I never really felt like I fit anywhere. I fit here. And at the end of the day, I know they have my back, and they know I have theirs. It’s not always sunshine and daisies, especially this crew, but there’s no other place I’d rather be.
“What about your real family? Where are they now?”
“Both of my parents are gone. I still talk to my stepdad from time to time, but after mom got cancer and passed away, we aren’t as close as we used to be. He got remarried and seems to be happy with his new life.”
“I’m really sorry to hear about your mom.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“What about your real dad? What happened with him?”
“Well, that’s kind of a long story.”
“I’d like to hear it if you don’t mind sharing.”
Chapter 9
Diesel
I told Lucky everything, including my time with the Chosen. I’m not sure what compelled me to divulge so much about myself, but once I started, I didn’t stop until I’d gotten it all out. She was just so easy to talk to, and I never once saw a flicker of judgement when I spoke. I’d never met anyone quite like her. After all she’s been through, I would expect her to be guarded, to surround herself in a protective wall and not let anyone get close to her, but when she was with me, there were no walls. It was just her and I, and with every new moment we were together, we grew closer. It all seemed so strange to me. She didn’t even have a name, but she was more real to me than any woman I’d ever met. I wanted to keep her close and protect her because the mere thought of someone hurting her drove me insane. As we sat there talking, I vowed to myself that I would do everything in my power to keep her safe.
After we finished eating, I took her back to her room, and I was about to head back to my
own so she could get settled when she got a funny look on her face. “What’s wrong?”
“I hate to ask since you’ve been stuck with me all day, but can you stay with me for just a little while longer … just until I fall asleep?”
“You worried you’re gonna have another bad dream?”
“A little bit. That last one really got to me. I was hoping if you’d stay, I might not have another one. I know one of the guys usually sits outside in the hall and watches over things, but it’s just not the same as having you in here with me,” she confessed.
I knew those nightmares had been wearing on her, and I couldn’t blame her for being worried. Hell, I was worried myself. After seeing how upset they’d made her, I’d made a habit of checking in on her every night to make sure she was okay. I hoped that she was right and my staying might stop them from coming, even if it was just for a little while, so I answered, “Of course.”
I walked over and sat down in the chair at the foot of her bed, and once I was settled, she turned to face the wall. I listened as her breathing became shallow, and I thought she had gone to sleep, until she asked, “Would you mind lying down next to me?”
“What?”
“Will you lie down with me?” she asked again.
“You sure about that?”
Without turning to look at me, she replied, “I’m just so tired of feeling lost and alone … I don’t want to feel alone right now.”
I knew it wasn’t a good idea. I’d already started to have feelings for her, feelings I had no business having, and being in that bed with her was just going to make them harder to ignore. But after hearing the vulnerability in her voice, there was no way I could turn her down. I got up from the chair and walked over to the bed, carefully settling in next to her. I leaned my head back on the pillow and tried to pretend that she wasn’t there, but my body knew. Just like every time before, as soon as I got close to her, I felt a rush that made it damn near impossible not to reach for her, take her in my arms, and show her how much I wanted her. But I knew that wasn’t an option, not now—not when there was so much uncertainty surrounding her. Trying my best not to disturb her, I turned to look at her, and she hadn’t moved. She stayed planted in her spot until she finally drifted off to sleep. I laid there for several hours, simply listening to the rhythm of her breathing, and without realizing what I was doing, I fell sound asleep.
