Amnesty: Amnesia Duet Book 2

by Cambria Hebert

  Sunlight broke over the memory that had plunged me into darkness. His voice that had seemed lightyears away was right here now, as close as his body. “Eddie.”

  “What happened?”

  Pushing back the horrible memory, I swallowed. Suddenly, my mouth felt desert dry. “Something hit me.” I frowned. Or maybe it hadn’t. Maybe it was just a memory.

  Before I could voice my confusion, Eddie placed me on my feet, and he and Robbie glanced at my back, which actually was still throbbing. I craned my neck over my shoulder, seeing a splatter of bright green covering the back of my suit.

  “Oh, it was just a paintball,” I said, relieved. Being shot with a paintball was much better than the memory it unknowingly induced.

  “What. The. Fuck?” Eddie growled. His voice was wild and untamed, dangerous even.

  The sound of laughter and victorious crooning erupted nearby. “Nice shot!” someone called out.

  “Bull’s-eye,” a man yelled. He was holding a gun in his hand, loaded with green balls.

  “Did you just take a cheap shot at my girl?” Eddie confronted him, stepping away from me.

  “Shouldn’t turn your back on the game.” The man tsked.

  “It was an unarmed woman, dick face,” Robbie yelled. “She was leaving the game.”

  He shrugged. “Still points for me.”

  Everything happened at once the second the idiot spoke. Eddie ripped the helmet off his head. It made a loud thumping sound against the hard ground when he threw it down. Crouching low, he scooped up both the guns he’d dropped to catch me when I stumbled.

  Holding one in each hand, he opened fire, shooting ball after ball right at the man who’d shot me. The sound of the gun releasing the “bullets” filled the air.

  “Hey!” the man roared, stepping back as ball after ball hit his body. “Fuck! Ow!” He moved back, but Eddie kept going, walking calmly, almost as though he were strolling, but with eagle-like focus as he fired over and over.

  One gun ran out of pellets. He tossed it down without missing a beat, still firing with the other.

  The man on the receiving end fell back, chest heaving. Eddie walked right up beside him, staring down.

  “Fuck, man, I’m going to have bruises for a month!” he rasped.

  “Points for me,” Eddie said, giving him a hard look.

  I stared in shock. His dark hair was wild around his head, the very ends fluttering around when the wind blew. At the base of his neck, some of the strands were damp with sweat and stuck out. His profile looked to be carved from granite, his jaw locked, the muscle protruding. Even though he was no longer using the gun, his eyes were still firing bullets.

  He bent down, shoving his face close to the man. I saw his friends hovering nearby, unsure if they should intervene.

  One looked ready to jump in. Robbie noted it, too. He made a sound beneath his breath, caught the man’s eye, and simply said, “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

  “You owe my girl an apology,” Eddie spat.

  “It’s a fucking game!” the man roared, beginning to sit up.

  Using his foot against his shoulder, Eddie pushed him back down. He spoke low, so low I didn’t hear what it was.

  Whatever it was definitely was effective.

  “I’m sorry!” the man yelled.

  Eddie stared at him a second longer, the tick in his jaw still strong, before relenting and stepping away.

  Everyone within range of the scene was watching now, silent. Even Robbie, the guy who had a wisecrack for everything.

  I couldn’t tear my eyes off Eddie. The power he exuded was unmatched. There was most definitely solid steel beneath his friendly, easygoing appearance.

  When he was almost to my side, his eyes slipped to mine. The glittering blue shards softened, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. I felt my own eyes widen. He winked.

  He winked at me. Went from killer to cuddly in two seconds flat.

  I was still trying to recover when he reached my side. His arm slipped around my waist, holding me firmly, but without any force. “C’mon, baby, time to go.”

  “We better not get banned,” Robbie cracked. “This is a tradition. Can’t mess with that.”

  “We aren’t going to get banned,” Eddie retorted, his voice dry.

  “It was just a paintball,” I said, still trying to catch up. “That’s what we were here to do.”

  “Men who shoot women in the back are assholes,” Eddie declared. “He deserved what he got.”

  Robbie made a sound of agreement.

  After we stripped off all the gear, Eddie piled it in his arms and glanced at Robbie. “Stay here with Am. I’ll turn this in.”

  The second Eddie walked off, I turned my full stare on his friend. “How come he never mentioned you?” I blurted out.

  Surprise flickered across his face. Then he glanced in the direction Eddie went. I waved my hand in front of his face, drawing his attention once more.

  “Maybe he didn’t want the competition.” Robbie wagged his eyebrows.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “A lot’s been going on.” His voice turned serious. “Maybe he thought it was too much too soon.”

  I cut right to the chase. “You knew Sadie.”

  “Yeah,” he said, glancing down at his shoes. “I knew her.”

  “Do you think I’m her?” I asked.

  His eyes widened. Once again, he looked back in the direction Eddie went. As though he were afraid to say too much.

  I sighed and reminded him, “You almost called me by her name.”

  Robbie cocked his head to the side. “So you don’t think you’re her?” He answered my question with his own.

  I shrugged. “I’d like to get your opinion, you know, from someone who once knew her.”

  Robbie stared at me for a moment. “You mean from someone who isn’t as biased as your boyfriend?”

  It was my turn to shrug. “Maybe.”

  “All right, I’ll play,” Robbie mused, his dark eyes settling on me. I felt them measure me in a way he hadn’t before. After a moment, he relented. “Could be.”

  “That’s all you got?” I said, disappointed.

  “Sorry, honey, I left my crystal ball at home today.”

  “Funny,” I noted, but I was pretty letdown. I thought maybe Robbie would see something or recognize something no one else did.

  “You do look like her in a lot of ways, but it’s been over ten years… People change, especially from teens to adulthood.”

  “Yeah,” I answered, forlorn. I knew that, but it wasn’t enough to keep me from hoping.

  “You seriously have no idea? No memories at all that would even give a clue?”

  “I have a few brief memories… But it’s hard to trust my own mind right now.”

  “Eddie seems convinced.” Robbie pointed out. “He’d know better than anyone.”

  I glanced up, a little surprised. “How close are you and Eddie?”

  “I don’t stalk the guy, but I mean, we’re tight. Been through some shit together and still managed to keep it together. That’s sort of why we do this paintball every year.”

  “Eddie isn’t completely convinced I’m Sadie. He didn’t tell you that?” I probed.

  “Nope. Haven’t talked to him much since you washed into town.” He cleared his throat. “He’s been pretty busy.”

  “What am I missing here?” I pressed, unable to shake the feeling there was something between Eddie and his friend I didn’t know.

  Robbie averted his gaze.

  “You never came to the hospital during all the months I was there.” My voice turned thoughtful. “He never once mentioned you…”

  Robbie remained mum, but the way he shifted told me I was onto something.

  “I'll just ask Eddie,” I said, starting in the direction he went off in.

  “Wait.” Robbie caught my wrist. I glanced back at him.

  “I was the one…” He began, his voice dropping. />
  “The one?”

  “The one who dared Eddie to go to Rumor Island, the reason he and Sadie got in the boat that night. The reason she—maybe you—disappeared.”

  Tension stole the crisp feel from the air when I stepped out of the rental tent. Automatically, my eyes sought out Am. The second I found her, my pace quickened.

  She and Robbie were standing close as if they were having some kind of intense conversation. Not the kind I would expect them to be having in the center of a paintball field.

  Golden strands of her short hair floated back away from her face, waving to me as I moved closer. Robbie’s eyes lifted, saw me coming, causing them to widen. He looked like a deer caught in headlights, blindsided by whatever Am was saying.

  That’s why he was single. He talked a good game, but he couldn’t even handle Am for ten minutes while I returned all our gear.

  I would have laughed if his stare didn’t appear so dire.

  “Eddie,” he called, a little relief in his voice.

  Amnesia turned abruptly. Briefly, our stares connected, and then she turned back to Robbie. “I guess that explains why I haven’t seen you until today,” she told him.

  “What?” I asked, looking curiously between the two.

  “Robbie’s the one who dared you that night.”

  My eyes flew to his. “What the hell, man?”

  Robbie looked horrified. “She’s relentless!”

  “Hardly.” She scoffed.

  Robbie nodded emphatically. “It was like the Spanish Inquisition up in here!”

  Amnesia laughed. “I’ve never met anyone so dramatic. You should be on reality TV.”

  Robbie drew back as though she’d insulted him.

  I reached out and patted his shoulder. “Relax. Reality TV is her favorite shit to watch.”

  His expression smoothed, a cocky glint coming into his eyes. “Yeah?”

  “Definitely.” Am nodded. Since Robbie was suddenly proud of himself, she turned to me. “You didn’t say anything.”

  “We’re supposed to be taking it slow, remember? I’m not supposed to overload you with too much information too soon.”

  Robbie leaned close to her. “Told ya.”

  “So you all were friends?” Am asked. “You two and Sadie?”

  They nodded.

  “And you made the dare.”

  Robbie nodded. “Biggest regret of my life.”

  “Mine, too.” I cleared my throat. “Doing it, I mean.”

  Amnesia turned toward Robbie. “So that was the stuff you said you guys had been through?”

  “Jesus, Rob, did you tell her our entire life story in the five minutes I was gone?” I groaned.

  “It was like ten, and I’m telling you she’s intense.”

  Amnesia laughed.

  Or maybe Robbie carried around a shit ton of guilt just like me and was too drawn to the chance to clear his conscience with the girl who might have been the victim of our dumb games that night.

  I felt her curious eyes, the questions she asked without even saying a word. I couldn’t not explain; it was too late for that now. Sidling up closer to her side, my palm hooked around her hip. Her body angled into mine, though she was still between Robbie and me.

  “I hated him for a long time,” I said, recalling how angry I’d been those first few months after Sadie vanished. “I was mad at everyone, but Robbie… I was mad at him the most.”

  Robbie nodded. I saw the memory in his eyes. It couldn’t have been easy to be so young and the target of so much malice.

  “I didn’t mean it.” Robbie’s voice was hoarse. “We were just dumb kids. I thought we were just being harmless.”

  Am reached out to him. “You were.”

  He looked down at where she touched him, so innocent in the way she tried to make him feel better. The worst victim of all, more concerned with others than herself.

  “I ruined lives that night. Maybe even cost one.”

  I paused, fully expecting Amnesia to tell him he hadn’t, that she was right there, her life still intact.

  She said nothing.

  Instead, her eyes turned down, her voice remained silent.

  “The town was really divided after Sadie… Some hated me; some hated Robbie… and some hated both of us,” I told her.

  “My parents almost moved us out of here,” Robbie added.

  “But they didn’t?” Amnesia asked.

  He rubbed his palm over the short buzz cut on his head. “No. This place was home. And I had to face what I did.”

  “We started getting in fights at school. The teachers would have to break us up.”

  Robbie’s face held a ghost of a grin. “We spent a lot of time in the principal’s office that first year.”

  I chuckled. “Sure did.”

  “But you’re friends now,” Amnesia said, trying to understand how we got here.

  “The day of our last fight, our dads were called in to pick us up. The principal had suspension papers in her hands, but our dads had a different idea.”

  Robbie grinned and picked up the story. “They brought us out here to the annual fall paintball course, bought us a shit ton of paintballs, and told us to hammer each other.”

  “What?” Amnesia gasped.

  Robbie and I grinned at the memory. “Two scrawny, pissed-off teenagers mad at everyone and especially each other…”

  “We went at it,” Robbie mused. “I had bruises for a month.”

  “Me, too.” I reminisced.

  “So you became friends again by shooting each other a million times with paintballs?” Amnesia wondered as though she were walking through the twilight zone.

  “It was a start.” Robbie nodded.

  “Halfway through our war, these guys came into the field and came at us. We had no choice but to work together—either that or get our asses handed to us.”

  Robbie chuckled.

  “What happened?” Amnesia asked.

  “We held them off, and by the time we were done, we realized we made a better team than enemies.”

  “And we weren’t so different after all. Both of us felt hella guilty for what happened that night. We both wished we could change what happened.”

  “So now you come play paintball every fall… to remember.” Amnesia surmised, understanding in her tone.

  I showed my teeth. “That and to hammer each other. Our dads were pretty smart,” I said.

  “Amnesia.” Robbie spoke, drawing all her attention. She stepped forward, away from me, fully focusing on my friend. “I, uh… I just want to say I’m sorry. It’s not enough, but…” He laid a hand over his chest, and I swallowed. I felt what he was feeling. So many times. That tightness in the chest was one of the most crippling feelings I’d ever known. “I have to say it. I regret that night so much. I know I said I wasn’t sure if you’re her or not, but on the chance you might be… please know I never meant for anything bad to happen.”

  Amnesia made a sound, as though his apology really meant something to her, and she pushed forward and wrapped her arms around him.

  Robbie looked surprised at first, his eyes firing up to mine. I nodded, and he hugged her back.

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, stepping back. Her arm stretched out behind her, her fingers seeking mine. I tangled ours together, and she smiled. “I don’t think it’s either of your fault what happened that night. And I honestly think Sadie believes the same.”

  After a beat of silence, Robbie announced, “Paintball is some damn therapeutic shit.”

  Am looked up at me, and I smiled. I kissed her forehead. I didn’t think she understood exactly what she’d given both Robbie and me just then, but it was monumental.

  Dr. Kline’s office was basically a box of four walls and no windows. The lighting was always dim, and I always wondered if she did it because she thought it was relaxing or if it was so if she accidentally made a face over something one of her patients said, it would give her some cover.

&nbs
p; There was a wire basket filled with glowing rocks sitting atop a wooden bookshelf near the door. They were salt rocks or something. She told me once they made for a calm environment and “cleansed” the energy in the room.

  I thought they were ugly.

  Of course, I didn’t tell her that. That would just be mean. But as I sat on the leather loveseat that faced her desk during our many sessions, sometimes my mind would drift and I would wonder how something so ugly could make the room look and feel more pleasant.

  I guess me not knowing was the reason I was the patient and she was the doctor.

  I’d been talking to her since almost the day I woke from my coma. Dr. Kline knew just as much about me as I did—something I often thought of as disconcerting because we weren’t even friends. She was nice enough. Kind and caring toward me.

  I was her job. That really should have been a good thing, right? Because she could remain objective. But sometimes objectivity wasn’t personal enough. Sometimes objectivity felt cold.

  I looked at her now and realized she didn’t care if I was Sadie or not. It wouldn’t matter one way or the other to her. Either way, her job was to help me deal with it. And if I never found out…?

  Wouldn’t matter either.

  I couldn’t accept that. More and more, I felt as though I was going to crawl right out of my skin. The need to know occupied so much of my thoughts.

  “You’re very quiet today,” Dr. Kline prompted.

  “I have a lot on my mind.”

  “Such as?”

  “Have you ever gone shopping and stepped out of the store and felt like you left something behind? Or on the way in to work suddenly wondered if you forgot to turn off the curling iron or stove? Or went to the office of another colleague and then, when you arrived, wondered why you’d come in there in the first place?”

  Dr. Kline accepted my rambling and went with it. “Of course. That sort of thing happens a lot.”

  “It’s maddening, isn’t it? Trying remember what you might have left back in the store or if your curling iron was overheating or knowing you needed something from a co-worker, but not recalling exactly what.”