No one, in the history of the world, has ever calmed down by being told to calm down.
Just sayin’.
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’ll do it myself.”
I turned to leave, and my father caught my arm before I could so much as take a step away from him.
Then he went and did what fathers do and pulled me to the stairwell moments later, which worked for me because that’s where I wanted to go.
I didn’t, however, want to stop just outside the door.
“What the fuck?” he asked. “What’s your damn deal?”
“What’s my deal?” I semi-shrieked. “Rafe is missing, and none of you are doing a damn thing about it!”
“None of us…Janie, what the hell do you think you’re going to accomplish by going at night?” he said, his voice getting softer.
I hated it when his voice got softer. It made me realize that he actually cared. That maybe, just maybe, he was right.
I swallowed tears.
“I have to look for him. I have to find him,” I replied, my voice breaking. “I have—"
A commotion had my dad looking over his shoulder, and then he moved to pull the door of the stairwell open.
“Get a nurse!” a man bellowed. “Rafe! Rafe, look at me buddy.”
I started running before I’d consciously told my feet to start moving.
Then, I was skidding on my knees beside Rafe who was laying on the floor, looking deathly pale.
He was wet. His head was still bleeding, and when I pressed my hand to his face, I could feel his fever raging.
“Rafe,” I breathed, leaning forward.
His eyes opened a fraction of an inch, and I swallowed at the dark eyes that met my own.
“Rafe,” I repeated.
He blinked.
Then he smiled.
After that, his entire form went limp.
***
Nine and a half hours later
Rafe was better.
He wasn’t awake, but he was stable.
His fever was down, the swelling on the side of his face was decreasing, and his color was starting to return to normal.
I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat, again, as the doctor shook his head.
“Is he okay?” I asked the doctor.
“His pupils are reacting, which means that he’s responding. He’s likely not awake yet due to the trauma that he received from the concussion grenade,” the doctor explained. “Sometimes all the body needs is time to recover. Maybe he just needs the sleep.”
I kept my mouth shut, and only nodded my head. Afraid if I spoke that the wounded cry that I’d been keeping bottled the entire time I’d been here would fall from my lips.
“If he wakes, come find us.” Then he was gone just as fast as he’d arrived.
I looked from the door where the doctor had just disappeared to the man lying so still in the bed.
He looked wrong.
I’d never seen him so still.
It was disconcerting.
Normally Rafe was so full of life—his aura almost chokingly powerful.
Now…now he just felt so…gone.
I closed my eyes and dropped my head into my hands, blowing out a breath.
“Hurry up and wake up,” I breathed. “You’re scaring me.”
Just as I’d finished that sentence, the door to the hospital room opened, and a woman blew in.
She was tall, willowy, and beautiful. She had long brown hair, bright blue eyes, and an obvious way about her that practically screamed ‘I’ve got money!’
I, on the other hand, was on the shorter side of average. I had long blonde hair that rarely ever found its way out of a ponytail, hazel eyes that kind of looked like pond water, and a face that wasn’t much to look at.
This woman was everything I wasn’t.
Everything that I thought Rafe would go for.
And I’d seen her before.
This was pecan pie chick.
“Oh, Rafe!” she breathed as she caught sight of the man in the bed. “You poor thing! Daddy told me that you were in here, and I didn’t believe him. I just had to see for myself. Oh, gosh. Are you even awake?”
“He’s in a coma,” I murmured, bringing her attention to me for the first time.
She blinked and stared. “Who are you?” she sneered.
I would’ve laughed at her obvious outrage at seeing me in Rafe’s room—past hours—but I couldn’t even find the strength to pick up my head from my hands.
“I’m Janie,” I answered.
“The daughter of a friend,” she said. “I remember you. The hair.”
She gestured to her head, miming hair in a bun, and I grimaced. “Yes.”
I guess you could consider me a daughter of a friend…technically.
Though, I wouldn’t go as far as to call them ‘friends.’
Acquaintances, maybe. Friends, no.
“Right,” she said, then moved to the bed. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” I asked, sounding as offended as I felt. “What are you doing here?”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m here because Rafe is hurt.”
“So am I,” she challenged.
I clenched my teeth.
“I’m a really good friend,” I said. “Rafe’s never even mentioned you.”
The woman in front of me smiled. “Funny,” she drawled. “But he’s never once mentioned you, either. And we’ve spent quite a bit of time together over the last six weeks.”
Then she did something that had the breath leaving my lungs.
She held out her hand. “I’m officially the soon to be Mrs. Rafe.”
My jaw would’ve hit the floor if it wasn’t attached.
“You’re lying,” I whispered, feeling suddenly sick to my stomach.
“I have absolutely no reason to lie,” she crossed her arms. “I can tell you exactly where he’s been for the last six weeks…can you?”
No. No, I fucking couldn’t.
“What the fuck?”
I looked down at a now awake Rafe, seeing his eyes were just barely slitted, but very much aware.
“Oh, honey.”
I winced and backed away when Mrs. Soon-to-be Rafe slammed her purse the size of a small horse into my chest.
Oh, honey, I mimicked, crossing my arms and glaring at the stupid woman’s perfectly coifed hair.
Rafe saw me, and he frowned.
“Who are y’all, and why are y’all here?”
Something cold slithered down my spine.
“Who are we?” I said, confusion lacing my voice. “Rafe, do you not know who I am?”
His jerked his head away from the girl that was petting his beard like one would a dog and growled at her. “Stop touching me.”
The woman stopped, but she didn’t pull away altogether. Instead, she turned so that she could stare at me.
“You’re no longer needed. I’m here.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that under no uncertain terms was I leaving when the door was pushed open.
“Oh, you’re awake!”
I turned to find myself staring at a nurse, who was staring at me and Hooters girl with a frown.
“I’m sorry, but there is only one visitor allowed back here at a time. This floor’s rules. I’m sorry.”
“As his fiancée, I’m staying.”
I opened my mouth to argue that she could kiss my fat ass when the nurse turned to me. “And who are you to him?”
“He can’t remember who we are,” I blurted. “Is that normal?”
The nurse turned to Rafe.
“Do you know who these ladies are?” she questioned.
Rafe shook his head, barely hiding the wince in time.
I saw it, though.
Then again, there wasn’t a single thing about Rafe that I didn’t notice or know…at least I thought t
here wasn’t, anyway.
“No,” Rafe murmured, sounding like he was getting angry. “Should I?”
And that was when I realized that things were bad. Really, really bad.
“Who do you want to stay?” the nurse asked. “There can only be one.”
Rafe’s eyes bounced from me to the woman at his side, then moved back.
They stayed locked on me, and for a second, I saw recognition there.
Then, it was gone.
“Neither.”
“Okay then,” the nurse said. “Both of you out.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.
But nonetheless, I walked out, not stopping until I was two doors down from his room.
“Don’t think that just because you knew him before me that you can worm your way in there,” the snotty female voice let me know that I hadn’t left by myself. The she-devil had left, too.
I turned and glared. “I’m sorry. Did I miss the fact that I was talking to you?”
“He’s mine.”
I bared my teeth.
“If he’s yours, he’ll be yours.” I paused. “But, just being honest, the moment that he regains his memory, you’re not going to get rid of me so easily.”
She laughed. “We’ll see about that, now won’t we?
It wasn’t until she left that I lost my battle with the tears.
Moments later, my father rounded the corner of the hallway and looked at me, noting the tears almost immediately.
“Ready?”
I felt betrayed. I felt stupid. And honestly, I felt like I was the world’s dumbest person.
While I was waiting for him to uncomplicate his life, he was out getting engaged.
God, I was so fucking stupid!
“Janie…” my father said. “You ready to go? There’s nothing you can do here to help.”
I would’ve laughed at that had I not just thought the same thing.
“Yeah, Dad,” I murmured softly. “I’ll come back tomorrow. Maybe then I can get some answers.”
Only, the next day didn’t go any better.
Or the day after that.
Or the day after that.
Then, the icing on the cake was when the doctor came out and told us—with Rafe’s blessing of course, since he didn’t want to see us, but he knew that we’d want to know his prognosis—the other news. News that changed my entire life.
He had an inoperable brain aneurysm, and under no circumstances was he to be upset in any way.
If he did get upset, stressed, or excited, that could mean the end of his life.
Which only left me even more depressed. If I couldn’t remind him who I was—which might very well upset him and stress him out—then what else could I do? What choice did I have?
There was only one.
Leave him alone with the hope that he’d figure it out on his own.
Chapter 9
I solemnly swear I’m going to rock your world until we’re old and dead.
-Rafe to Janie
Rafe
I knew a few things.
One, I knew why I was where I was.
Two, I knew that Angelina Jolie, I mean my fake kind of real fiancée, Elspeth, was playing me just as much as I was playing her.
Three, I knew there was something there with Janie, but I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.
Which happened to be why I was where I was.
I needed to talk to my sister.
I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I would’ve told her what was going on.
Ever since she’d let me back into her life, I hadn’t held a single thing back.
Not one single thing.
At least, I thought I hadn’t.
“I’m sure, Rafe,” my sister, Raven, promised, looking guilty as hell about something. Yet, I knew from experience that she wouldn’t tell me what that something was. If she wanted to share, she would. Obviously, she didn’t want to share, otherwise the words would’ve been out of her mouth the moment I’d walked in the door. “I don’t know anything about any girls. Nothing.”
I growled under my breath and rubbed my hand over my heart.
“You’re going to get it back,” Raven promised. “And when you do, if it was meant to be, whoever the girl is will still be waiting for you.”
My sister’s words felt like sandpaper against my soul. She may be saying all the right things, but I still couldn’t quite believe them.
“I don’t know anything that has happened in the last six months,” I said, staring pointedly at my sister’s belly.
Raven started to grin. “Four months ago, brother. And I hadn’t actually told you about this one. I was waiting for you to come see me…and you never did.”
I grunted and looked out at the parking lot.
We met for lunch—halfway between her and me—and she’d chosen the spot.
I hated Mexican food—yes, I know. I can hear your shouts of denial and dismay from here—but it was what it was.
And it wasn’t even the taste that I didn’t like.
It was the smell.
My father had once forced me to drink an entire bottle of hot sauce—one of those small jars that you get at the grocery store—because I’d wasted the food he’d bought.
And me, being young and impressionable at the time, had done it despite my monumental dislike of the sauce.
After drinking it, I’d immediately thrown up.
All over the floor and half the couch.
My father had back handed me so hard and fast that I’d landed on my back in the middle of my vomit and learned a very important lesson.
It would never do to show weakness.
Hence the reason I did what I did hours later when Elspeth showed at my door.
I took the pecan pie inside, allowed Elspeth to follow me, and choked down two pieces of the vile crap with her watching.
Once she’d gone, I’d immediately tossed the rest of the pie. Then brushed my teeth to get rid of the taste.
All the while I wondered if Janie knew I didn’t like pecans.
She probably did.
Yet, I couldn’t quite figure out why I cared.
Yet, every single time I found my mind wandering, I found it centered on her.
On what she was thinking. Or feeling. Or even doing.
Anything about her would suffice.
Which was why I’d also hacked into her computer and started watching her through her webcam installed on her laptop.
A laptop that she spent an exceptionally insane amount of time on.
There wasn’t a single instance that I’d logged in that I didn’t see her on it. Didn’t watch her every fucking move.
It was seriously starting to get to the point where I felt sick—at myself.
I was invading her privacy.
I was watching her work.
I was reading things that I shouldn’t be reading.
Yet I couldn’t stop.
I couldn’t stop because there was this compulsion inside of me that was urging me to do it.
Like right this second, I was watching her bite her lip as she watched a Hallmark movie—which I could hear running in the background. She was switching between playing on Facebook and Instagram, intermittently glancing up at the TV when something caught her attention.
I couldn’t figure out if she was crying because of what she was watching on the TV or if there was something else that she was thinking about.
Whatever it was, I felt sick to my stomach.
I didn’t like to see her cry, and I most certainly didn’t want her doing it in the dark of her living room while she sat there looking so sad and lonely.
I wanted to ride over there and wrap her in my arms—even though I didn’t understand why.
Which made me mad.
Every single thing there was to know about this woman—Janie—was gone. None of it was th
ere.
Apparently, according to Trace, I’d known Janie for a really long time.
Really long meaning years and years.
But that was all Trace had given me.
He’d clammed up the moment I’d tried to dig for more.
In fact, everyone had.
I’d even gone as far as to ask James, Janie’s father, and I was left in the dark.
It was really starting to irritate me.
Speaking of irritants, my phone rang, and I lifted it up off the couch at my side and placed it to my ear.
“Yeah?” I muttered, recognizing Trace’s ringtone.
“You got a bug in the church?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know I do.”
After my accident, I’d been busting my ass to get myself up to speed with the investigation I’d started—one that was very near and dear to my heart.
Layton Trammel, the man who had singlehandedly left me a near eunuch. My balls were very near and dear to me…literally and figuratively.
And Layton had been such a dick about it.
When I’d tried to file malpractice after I’d recovered enough, I’d gotten a strong lecture from my CO that I needed to ‘forget it and move on.’
When I’d pursued, I’d been given another lecture, this one consisting of me being told that if I didn’t ‘cease and desist,’ I would regret it.
I almost did because I’d tried to pursue it, nearly receiving a dishonorable discharge for my efforts.
And so, the feud had been born.
“Yeah, well, Layton just made a stop over there. He’s talking with a deacon for their church, and he’s got a lot of good stuff to say about you. He thinks you’re going to be the ‘perfect goat.’
“Goat,” I repeated, making sure I’d heard him correctly.
“Goat,” he repeated, “As in ‘scapegoat.’”
I gritted my teeth. “Scapegoat for what?”
“I don’t know. But they’ve been talking about a few things for about seven minutes now. They want to meet up later on to confirm details. That later on being some time tonight after dinner with you.”
“I wasn’t aware I was having dinner with him…”
“Well, I’d wait and not make any plans. I’d also play nice and say you can come despite your immediate reaction of ‘go fuck yourself.’ Okay?” Trace added gruffly.
I snorted.
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