Amnesty: Amnesia Duet Book 2

by Cambria Hebert

  Eventually, I gave up on the shit that required the most attention, putting it aside until she came in this afternoon. At least I hoped her presence would allow me to stay focused enough to get it done then.

  For now, I settled on restocking a few shelves and doing a few tedious things on the computer (AKA register) at the front counter.

  There was the typical morning rush, mostly regulars but with a few non-regular morning shoppers who dashed in needing something last minute.

  After the latest customer walked out with paper sacks in hand, I went into the back to grab a cup of coffee. The one I drank earlier was starting to wear off. I thought about Am, hoping she was enjoying herself, hoping she found something for herself she truly loved.

  Truth was I padded her paycheck a little. She didn’t know it and I would never admit it, but I could do shit like that because I was the boss. No one told me what I could and couldn’t pay my employees.

  Favorable treatment? You bet your ass. But she deserved it. No one deserved it more.

  That thought made my mind turn to Sadie. I felt a twinge of guilt for my last thought. Perhaps Sadie deserved some favoring as well. It was hard to wrap my head around the fact that Rumor Island had two victims (three if you counted Widow West, but I didn’t feel like counting her). Even harder to accept that Sadie wasn’t the one I was most focused on.

  For so long, she was it. The be all, end all. Odd how she had more of my attention in absence than now in her presence. The shame of that made my face burn. Even though I went to see her every day, even though I cared about her—hell, part of me even loved her—I still felt as though I were somehow betraying her.

  Truth was it didn’t matter how much time I spent with her, sat at her bedside, or reminisced, I didn’t connect with her the way I used to. There was something between us. A barrier I was starting to believe only I felt.

  I knew it was probably the twelve years we were apart. The heinous, crippling things that happened to her. How whenever I looked at her, I saw a girl who was beaten so badly she lost a child and almost died. It made me sick… sick I didn’t stop it. I felt responsible, even though I wasn’t the one who inflicted all her wounds.

  I felt her reaching for me. I felt her eyes, heard her voice when she told me she was mine before she was anyone else’s.

  I could be a friend to her, but I couldn’t be anything more.

  That made me feel guilty, too. Now, after all this time, I had a chance to make it up to her, make amends for all the shit I hadn’t done.

  I couldn’t. Not in the way I was beginning to see she wanted.

  How could a mere man make right the sins of a devil? How could I reverse the horrible things that changed her irrevocably? It was impossible. There were some hurts in this life that were so severe, so unflinching they laughed in the face of apology.

  I learned something as I continued to visit her. As I saw how different she was from not only Amnesia, but from the Sadie I remembered from childhood.

  She wasn’t the only one who was changed by the events that happened.

  I didn’t realize it until she came back. For years and years, I gripped so tight to that night all those years ago; I didn’t allow myself to see something that was so completely essential.

  I changed, too.

  I was no longer my fourteen-year-old self. I was nearly twenty-six. A man. A man who was jaded, almost wearily so.

  A man who was in love with someone who wasn’t Sadie. Funny how you looked in one direction and life pulled you in another.

  Out in the store, the bells announced someone else’s arrival.

  The pot clattered a little as I shoved it back on the burner. In my haste, coffee sloshed over the rim of my mug and slapped against the floor.

  “Shit,” I muttered, glancing around for a few napkins, which I promptly tossed onto the floor. The white material began greedily soaking up the liquid. To hurry it along, I stomped on it with my shoe, rubbing it up a little.

  When that was done, I left the saturated napkin where it lay and headed out front.

  I felt a little flutter low in my stomach, a feeling I would never admit to having. Anticipating Amnesia all morning was turning me into some whipped little puppy.

  Maybe if I tell her that, she’ll scratch my belly… then allow her hand to travel lower.

  Coffee nearly sloshed out of the mug again with that seductive thought. Smiling, I walked out front toward the door to see if it was who I awaited.

  “Eddie!” a familiar voice called out. But it wasn’t the one I was expecting.

  My eyes widened as I rounded the display aisle and saw Sadie standing there with Maggie at her side.

  “Sadie?” I announced. “You’re here.”

  She giggled. “That’s what Lily said when I saw her.”

  She saw Amnesia? Without realizing it, I again started looking around for my girl.

  Maggie noted and spoke up. “We just left her at the bakery. Joline was giving her an impromptu baking lesson.”

  My eyes met and held Maggie’s. “Is she having a good time?” Is she okay? How did she do with seeing Sadie?

  Maggie heard my unspoken questions and nodded. “She was having a wonderful time.”

  I let out a silent breath, relief flooding through my middle

  “The doctors let me out.” Sadie began. “So of course I wanted to come by and tell you, see the store.” She looked small standing there, my hoodie still swallowing her whole. Her hair was down around her shoulders (I’d never seen it any other way), and she had on a pair of jeans and yellow sneakers.

  “Oh!” She went on. “We got you a coffee from the bakery.” She jolted forward to extend the large white cup in one of her hands. Noting the cup already in my hand, she frowned. “Oh, you have one already.”

  “Meh.” I scoffed. “I made this in the back. It’s terrible. I suck at making coffee.” I accepted the one she offered and took a sip, ignoring the fact it scalded my tongue. “Much better.” I lied.

  She beamed. That made the small lie okay, didn’t it? The fact it made her happy.

  “You ladies are straight from the hospital?” I asked, leading them over toward the front counter where I set my first cup of joe underneath.

  “Yes, on the way home,” Maggie said.

  I glanced at her quickly, then away. This wasn’t something Am and I had talked about. The fact they were going to be under the same roof. She still hadn’t gone back to the hospital since that memory. She remained adamant about not wanting to see Sadie, and now she was going to be living with her.

  Maggie’s eyes flashed with apology, but I understood her position. There was no need for regret.

  She was caught between the two women just as I. Stuck trying not to favor one over the other, being tugged in both directions, and knowing eventually, something would snap.

  I thought vaguely of offering to take Sadie home with me because it would give Am the space I knew she needed. But if I did that, what message would it send?

  “I’m going to be making a special dinner tonight,” Maggie told me, picking up a basket near the counter. “I hope you’ll join us.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” I said.

  Sadie beamed, came to my side, and slipped her hand in mine.

  “I’m going to get a few things for the meal tonight. Sadie, would you like to help?”

  Sadie shook her head, sidling closer to me. “I was hoping Eddie would give me a tour. I want to see what’s changed.”

  “Of course.” I agreed.

  “I won’t be long,” Maggie said and went off in search of her ingredients.

  “What do you want to see first?” I looked down at Sadie.

  She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “How about all the merchandise we sell now? You can pick a T-shirt.” With her hand in mine, I led her across the store toward the merch section near the bathroom. “I designed all this stuff myself.”

  “You did?” she asked, glancing over
it all. Her fingers caressed one of the dark-blue shirts with the words “Lake Loch” on the front.

  I nodded. “I had fun with it.”

  The words, though innocent, were like a knife in me. “I’m sorry.” My voice was rough and low.

  She perked up, focusing on me. “For what?”

  Rubbing a hand over my face, I moaned. “Because that seemed insensitive. To say I had fun doing something while you were out there being…”

  Sadie grabbed my other hand, turning so we were facing each other. “Don’t be sorry about that,” she whispered.

  “I am,” I rebutted

  “I wanted to call you this morning. The doctor wouldn’t let me.”

  Alarm pushed back my sorrow. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  She smiled softly. “You always worry about me.”

  “Always.” I agreed.

  “Everything’s fine. They let me out, didn’t they?” She glanced away. I saw the ghosts in her eyes. They were hidden when she looked back up. “I want to stay with you, not Maggie.”

  I swallowed thickly. “The doctor said that’s not a good idea.”

  “I don’t care what the doctor said.”

  “They think it’s best you be with a woman after everything that’s happened to you—”

  “I want you!” she burst out, her voice echoing around the store.

  All the muscles in my body stiffened, my senses on high alert. “Sadie.”

  She shoved me away but then just as suddenly came back, wrapping her arms around my middle and pressing her face into my chest. “I want you, Eddie. You’ll protect me. I know you will.”

  I hugged her back. I felt the tremble of her body. “Protect you from what?” I whispered.

  She lifted her head. “From him.”

  I felt my eyes narrow, white-hot anger whooshing through me. “Who is he, Sadie? What’s his name?”

  “We weren’t allowed to call him by name,” she whispered, her voice hollow.

  I hugged her tighter. I didn’t want to ask, but damn, didn’t I have to? How would I protect anyone if I had no idea what I was up against?

  “Do you know his name even though you never used it? Did you ever hear anyone call him by it?”

  She nodded. “Her.”

  “Amnesia?”

  “Daniel,” she whispered. “She called him Daniel.”

  “Did you tell the police, Sadie?” I asked. “Do they know who to look for?”

  She looked back up at me, pleading with her brown eyes. “I can’t tell anyone but you. I can’t. He’ll know.”

  “Shh.” I soothed, pushing her head back into my chest. “It’s okay. Telling me is enough.”

  “You have to let me stay with you,” she pleaded, her voice muffled. “He’s coming. He wants us back.”

  “Us,” I echoed, everything inside me icing over.

  She nodded. “Lily and me. We belong to him.”

  Chills raced up my spine. She sounded haunted by him, as if a piece of him lived inside her.

  “Where is he?” I demanded, pulling her away from my body, giving her a slight shake. “Where is he, Sadie? Tell me.”

  “He’s watching,” she murmured, her eyes glazed over. “Waiting.” She blinked, brown eyes again focused on me with perfect clarity. “He’s coming, but I want to stay with you.”

  A tear spilled onto her cheek, and her lower lip wobbled.

  I cursed, knowing I pushed too far. But damn, someone had to. We needed answers, and we wouldn’t get them by tiptoeing around.

  “Eddie?” Sadie clutched at my back.

  “I’ll stay at Maggie’s tonight, okay? I won’t let him hurt you.” I assured her.

  That seemed to pacify her, which was good.

  But it did very little to pacify me.

  She called us sisters. Called me by name. A name I didn’t identify with. I remembered, albeit briefly, us braiding each other’s hair and feeling glad she was down in that hole with me.

  Did that make us friends?

  Could two tortured women forge a friendship under such dire circumstances, or was it purely survival instinct?

  Maybe it wasn’t friendship, but instead a sort of bond. Bonded together by something only the pair of us could experience. I would think a bond like that would be stronger than friendship.

  Why, then?

  Why did it feel I was looking at a stranger when I looked at Sadie?

  Was it the amnesia, the reminder, or was it something more?

  I said it before, and I would say it again. Sadie made me uncomfortable. The kind of uncomfortable that felt as though there was something lodged in your throat. Something thick and unforgiving, something bone dry that would never go down no matter how many times I swallowed, no matter how much water I drank.

  My body remained in a constant state of hypervigilance when she was in the same room—hell, under the same roof. I hated it. I felt guilty for it. I tried to reason it away.

  That was the thing with feelings, though, wasn’t it? You felt them whether you wanted to or not.

  I felt her eyes all evening long—when she wasn’t looking at Eddie, that is. The area between my shoulder blades tingled when I excused myself for bed later that night. Eddie was staying here tonight, something I didn’t find unusual, except there was something about him tonight. Something unspoken.

  I asked of course. He’d been this way since I went into work this afternoon. He denied it, and at first, I believed him, but as the night wore on, my nerves began to crackle with intuition.

  I was dressed in one of his T-shirts I’d stolen from his drawer when he quietly slipped into the room. We didn’t say anything, but I went to him, stepping right into his arms with a deep sigh.

  After a moment, I pulled back, gathered the hem of his shirt, and pulled it slowly over his head. He helped by lifting his arms, allowing me to remove it totally.

  Once it was gone, I stared at his skin, which seemed to glow in the dark of the room. Smoothing my hands over the expanse of his chest, I pressed a single kiss above his heart, then climbed into bed.

  Stripped down to nothing but his boxers, Eddie slid in beside me, making sure to tuck the covers around us. Shifting close, I fit myself along him, pressing my ear against his chest.

  There was a lot to say it seemed, a lot of currents traveling through the room.

  We didn’t say anything, though, not a single word.

  All that mattered was he was here. That I was here.

  That we were together.

  Darkness closed around us like a thick blanket. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my head was soothing. My eyes grew heavy to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

  Deep sleep wrapped around me, finally relieving me of the hypervigilance stringing me tight. I don’t know how much true rest I got. I just knew, eventually, something stirred around me. Disrupting those currents I’d mentioned before.

  A new one vibrated throughout my room, sort of like a rock song layered on top of a Top 100 hit. They didn’t mesh well, didn’t play nice.

  The sound of Eddie’s heartbeat came back to me. The very sound that just lulled me to sleep was now the very thing keeping me awake.

  My stomach turned uncomfortably. I lay there with my eyes closed, wondering if I’d had some kind of nightmare that left me feeling sick and shaken. Nausea sat deep in my stomach like a coiled snake waiting to strike.

  I shifted, trying to move away from the feeling, but I couldn’t get away from something that was already inside me. I squeezed my eyes shut and told myself it was only a dream, trying to find solace in the steady pounding of Eddie’s heart.

  There was no solace there. Not right now. Now, twistedly, the sound unsettled me more. Caused cramps to squeeze my insides, making my toes curl into my feet.

  The sound of his heartbeat was like a ticking clock. A ticking time bomb. Every beat took him closer to death; every rhythmic thump could be his last.

  The sound was pure frailty, remindi
ng me just how fickle life could be. How I could lose him in just an instant.

  I lay there silently, squirming against him beneath the covers that felt like electric blankets turned up extra high.

  It’s just a bad dream. Eddie’s fine. Everything is fine. I promised myself, beginning to take deep, soothing breaths.

  Just as I began to calm, the sound of his heartbeat grew faint until I was gripping his arm, straining for the sound.

  And then it stopped completely.

  The very last beat echoed through his now-silent and empty chest, bouncing around the hollow cave of his ribcage.

  With a gasp, I jolted up, pressing a hand to my chest as tears dampened my cheeks. Instantly, I looked down at him, shoving the hair away from my eyes. He looked peaceful in sleep, curls falling over his forehead, his arm still thrown out beneath where I’d just been.

  The steady, reassuring rise and fall of his chest proved he was okay. Proved he wasn’t lost. Just to be sure, I reached out, pressing my palm against his skin. The second his heart thumped against my touch, I sagged forward in relief.

  But just as soon as the relief came, something stole it away. Violently. Coldly. Unexpectedly.

  My head snapped up; my eyes widened.

  Even though my mouth fell open, not a single sound came out.

  She was there. At the foot of the bed. Staring at us through the dark with an ominous presence. Her eyes unblinking. My hand flew to my chest, and we locked eyes.

  I couldn’t see her expression, but I didn’t have to. I felt it.

  How long had she been standing there stalking us while we slept, vulnerable?

  Anger radiated off her, jealousy a close second.

  My hand slapped down in the center of Eddie’s chest. “Eddie!” I whisper-yelled. “Eddie!”

  He jolted up so fast it scared me. In one swift move, he bolted up and shot his arm straight out in front of my body, creating a barrier. Then his entire body rotated, blocking me, shielding me.

  He did all that without even knowing what it was I wanted.

  “What?” he said, sleep evaporating at an impressive speed. “What’s wrong?”

  I clutched his arm, which was sort of like a personal seatbelt, and glanced back to the foot of the bed. “She’s in here.”