Forgetting August (Lost & Found #1)

by J. L. Berg

  He chuckled, watching with amusement as I ate the glorious food with enthusiasm.

  “I’ve been coming here since I was a child. Before I was old enough to be traveling alone, I was riding buses and taking BART to get over to this very spot.”

  “Why here?”

  “I don’t know. I was in the car one day with my random foster parent of the moment, and I remember we drove past here. I’d of course seen the Golden Gate Bridge a hundred times before then, having grown up in the city, but from this angle, it looked immense—colossal, like it could engulf the entire ocean. It seemed otherworldly, and at that time in my life, I needed something kind of magical and beyond the realm of what was considered normal.”

  “So that was here,” he asked.

  “For my eight-year-old mind, yeah. It was.”

  He looked up at it, the shiny red cables stretching from one end of the bay to another. “I can see it.”

  I hid my embarrassed smile and continued. “So, after we’d been dating a while, I decided you were cool enough to bring to my magical spot.”

  “And now I guess I’m cool enough again?” he asked softly, his eyes meeting mine.

  “Very,” I answered, food forgotten.

  “And what do cool people do in a place like this?” he asked.

  My fingers slowly went down his chiseled chest and I bit my bottom lip.

  “Very magical things,” I answered, pushing him back and showing him just how enchanted a bridge could be.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  August

  I no longer missed the memories.

  Life with Everly had completed me.

  Completed my existence.

  For the first time since I’d awakened in that lonely hospital bed, I wasn’t searching for something that was lost to me.

  With her, I had found it all.

  Everything was falling into place. I could see our future, feel it…grasp it with my fingertips. Life was moving forward and I finally had everything I’d been searching for.

  Until it all slipped away, so fast I could do nothing but watch it all crumble around me like sand.

  * * *

  Looking over the giant case of desserts at the local bakery, I tried to make a snap decision and failed.

  After weeks of sheer bliss with Everly, I still had no idea what her favorite dessert was.

  I guess I could add that to the pile of things left to discover. It had suddenly become my favorite pastime.

  “Can I help you?” the old man behind the counter asked. He had kind eyes and bits of flour streaked across his weathered face. Based on the lack of employees and size of the place, I was guessing he was the owner and wore just about every hat under the roof.

  As he arched back, stretching his tired old body, I looked over the large case of desserts again, wondering how much time it took him to make each and every one of them by hand. Every single day.

  “What would you recommend for a coffee lover?” I asked, with a solid grin as I surveyed his life’s work. Each dessert was like a piece of art, and I could see the proud gleam in his eyes as he spoke.

  “Oh, well—you can’t go wrong with chocolate,” he responded, pointing to several different cakes, cookies, and brownies that would go especially well.

  “I’ll take them all,” I said. His eyes lit up in delight.

  “Yes, sir!” he answered eagerly, and got to work on boxing up half the store—because that’s just about what I’d ordered.

  But I didn’t care, because tonight Everly and I were celebrating. After submitting my work to several galleries around the city and hearing nothing for weeks, I’d given up hope. I was a new talent—never heard of and really, why would anyone want to take me on? It had been a risky long shot, but after sitting at home for months on end without any other employable skills, it was one I’d needed to take.

  Finally, I’d received the phone call I’d been waiting for. A small, local gallery wanted to display a few of my photographs—on a trial basis—but if they sold, it could work out to be something more permanent.

  It was a beginning, a start for something real, and I couldn’t wait to share it with Everly. I couldn’t wait to share everything with Everly.

  With my purchases in hand, I left a very happy bakery owner behind and headed for home. Everly would be reaching the end of her shift soon and I wanted to have everything just perfect before she got there.

  Summer had arrived without much fanfare in San Francisco. The weather had warmed slightly and the fog had grown thicker, but other than the increase in tourism, not much had changed. It was what made California so desirable—the total lack of seasons. There was no snow to plow, no leaves to rake, and when summer came to the bay, people continued to wear t-shirts and jeans through August, as if nothing changed.

  What kept me here, though, was the view—the never ending coastal views. I would have easily given up every penny I had if it weren’t for the panoramic coastline that greeted me every single time I walked in my front door. I may have been a giant asshole back in the day, but I’d managed to get one thing right and that was this house.

  Fumbling with packages and cake boxes, I made my way through the front door and set everything in the kitchen. Knowing I had time left before Everly got off work, I grabbed a beer and stepped out on the deck that overlooked the Pacific.

  The waves crashed and unfurled below, and the salty spray of the ocean filled my lungs with a sense of peace I’d never thought I’d find. This house finally felt like a home to me. It finally felt like it belonged to me, rather than to a stranger.

  Walking in here for the first time all those months ago was like stepping into a life I didn’t want. How could I wake up with the same name and yet be so completely different?

  I’d known from the first moment I saw her appear in my hospital room. I didn’t want to be the August Kincaid she remembered, but I had no idea who I wanted to become, so somewhere in the middle I’d managed to find a common ground. I was still a work in progress, but so far, I was digging the life I’d discovered in the midst of it all.

  “Remember when I helped you move in here, and we stood out here like fucking kings on a castle tower?” An unfamiliar voice shot through the crashing tide.

  Fuck, I really needed to learn to lock the damn door.

  My head whipped around to meet my intruder face to face. He was tall, well-built, with glaring brown eyes and a menacing sneer that might pass for a smile. His wavy black hair matched his tailored suit perfectly. He oozed money and sophistication, probably wearing more money in fashion on his body at the moment than most people made in a year.

  I didn’t say a thing, just kept my eyes trained on him. No need to give up all my cards at once.

  “No greeting? No words of welcome for your old buddy and partner Trent?”

  So this was the guy that had been blowing up my phone for the last several weeks. The troublemaker my attorney had mentioned. He was a persistent little shit.

  “You called a few times,” I said absently, baiting him for more information.

  “Well, what the hell was I supposed to do, August? You’re released from the hospital and never bother to call? For months? I have to find out from our fucking attorney that you’re up and walking around. Do you know how that makes me look? How that makes us look?”

  “I can’t imagine.”

  Because, really—I honestly couldn’t. But it was nice of him to visit me in the hospital. Oh wait…

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he roared, stepping into my space, his voice filled with venom and ire. “Do you think this is all some sick joke? You did seem to think the world revolved around you, didn’t you? Well, let me tell you something, asshole—it doesn’t. While you were taking an extended siesta, the rest of us were busting our fucking asses, and it’s time you pay your dues.”

  Dues? Suddenly something clicked into place as memories and conversations aligned. Everly had once said I’d quit my job because of
an old fraternity brother, although she’d never mentioned his name. She’d said that after I went to work for him, I was never the same.

  No words of welcome for your old buddy and partner Trent?

  Shit.

  No matter how far I reached, it seemed the glaring truth of my past would always find me, no matter what I did with my new life.

  “Look—Trent, is it?” I said, beginning the opening line to the speech I’d delivered time and time again to the elite crowd of lawyers and businessmen I’d associated with so long ago. Once they discovered the August of old was dead and buried, now hidden beneath layers of amnesia with little to no hope of being found, they usually moved on quickly. The new August, who spoke of photography instead of stock portfolios and who would rather hike instead of attend a gala function, was nowhere near their speed, and even though I had the money, I wasn’t worth the time.

  And I was just fine with that.

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Trent lashed out, his words like talons directed solely at me.

  “I don’t know who you are, but if you let me explain myself, it might clear some things up,” I said calmly, before proceeding. I told him everything.

  Well, mostly everything. I told him the reader’s digest version, including the mugging, my coma, and the resulting loss of memory.

  “So you have no memory of anything?” he asked, seeming almost dumbfounded by the news. Almost.

  “Nothing before that night; no.”

  “I’m sorry, man.” His bent head shook, as if he felt pity for me.

  “It’s okay. You didn’t—” I stopped myself as I watched his shoulders begin to shake. My mind couldn’t process what my eyes were seeing until his gaze met mine and I heard it.

  Laughter.

  He was laughing. At my pain, at my suffering and all the loss I’d endured.

  “You misunderstood, buddy. I wasn’t apologizing for your misfortune. I was apologizing because things are about to get a hell of lot worse.”

  My expression hardened as my fists tightened. “How’s that, buddy?” I asked, throwing the familiar term back in his face.

  “See, you and I have a partnership. It’s one of those things that works a lot like marriage—a ‘’til death do us part’ type of thing—not that I’ve tried that particular thing out—too many fish in the sea and all. But I’ve heard it works the same way. And well, here’s the thing. You’re not dead.”

  I got up into his face, close enough to see the whites of his teeth as his cold, vicious smile reflected back at me. “In case you weren’t listening, let me give you the abbreviated version so your little brain can comprehend it. I don’t remember a goddamned thing about my former life, including but not limited to a so-called partnership with you. So forgive me if I’m not jumping up and down at the idea, but I think I’ll decline.”

  “Jesus, you really are a total blank, aren’t you?” he said, stepping back, his eyes wide with curiosity. “Amazing. For a second I thought you were just playing me, but there really is nothing of you left. Just nothing.”

  “Now do you understand?” I asked, glaring at him.

  “Yes. I understand perfectly,” he smiled widely, rubbing his hands together. “It’s time to get to work.”

  “I’m not working for you!” I roared. The words exploded from my mouth like a cannon. “Now get the fuck out!”

  He didn’t budge. The asshat didn’t move a single inch as his arms slowly slinked into the pockets of his thousand-dollar suit, and he began to swagger around the deck. I watched as he took the beer I’d opened before stepping out here, and slowly brought it to his own lips.

  “You will work for me, and here’s why,” he casually said as he set the beer down on the rail. His voice was eerily calm, in vast contrast to the crashing tide below. “Before your little incident, turns out you owed me money. A lot of money, actually.”

  “I’ll write you a check,” I interjected, which only made him laugh harder.

  “I don’t think you’re quite grasping the concept here. So let me dumb it down for you. You may think you’re on the up and up because you have a few million stashed away in the bank. That’s chump change to what we dealt with on a daily basis. Did you ever wonder why you could afford a place like this?”

  I had actually, but like so many things in my past, I’d just let it go.

  Obviously that had been a big mistake.

  “The reason we could afford shit like this house you’re standing in and the crazy huge yacht I own is because we never keep it in one place for a long period of time. We keep our money hidden, from the prying, investigating eyes of Big Brother. It works. Or at least it did until you decided to peace out for two years, leaving behind a huge debt and no one but me to clean up after you. And I hate messes.”

  “How much?” I gritted through my teeth.

  “Fifty million dollars.”

  I tried to school my emotions, temper my expression, tone down my temper. What the hell had I gotten myself into?

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I asked.

  “Well, you see, that’s the tricky part of amnesia, isn’t it? But I guess I could always go to your lovely girlfriend and ask. She was around back then, wasn’t she? What was her name? Everly? She was a hot piece of ass, if I remember correctly.”

  He obviously hadn’t just been calling. He’d been watching—waiting for the right opportunity to ambush me with this information—and now he knew he’d hit the right button to make me flinch. The right nerve that just might cause me to cave. I had no idea who this man was and what he was capable of, but based on the way Everly cringed at the mere mention of his name and his maniacal laugh, I wasn’t taking any chances.

  “What do you want?” I asked, knowing he had me. Knowing I’d do anything to keep Everly safe, even if it meant giving up everything.

  “You always were a little sensitive when it came to her,” he said, a mischievous grin on his face. “You’re going to come back to work, like a good little boy, and we’ll talk about this amnesia no more. No one ever needs to hear about it. As far as your clients are concerned, you took an extended vacation after your very traumatic hospital stay, and are now well rested and ready to make them as much fucking money as humanly possible.”

  “And when they discover I have no skills as a stockbroker whatsoever and lose every single penny of their well-earned fortune?” I asked, each word coming out like a dark staccato note, drilling me deeper into hell.

  “They won’t know their head from their own ass, because I’ll be pulling all the strings. As soon as they discover the much loved August Kincaid is finally back, your beloved clients will come rushing back to us with open arms, and we’ll be flooded with so much fucking business we won’t know what to do.”

  “So, I’m just your puppet?” I asked, my eyes darkening as his lightened with glee.

  “Yes. You see, you were always the face and I was the brains. People don’t like me much, which is why I brought you on board. You, with the good looks and the wholesome ideas. You were exactly what I needed. People believed you when you told them you would make them money, even when we were robbing them blind. And the amazing part…they just kept coming back for more.”

  His bone-chilling calm as he spoke about robbing people of their life savings was eerily scary. And the fact that I’d once helped him do this, with the same smile on my face, made me ill.

  “You know the front door is open?” Everly’s voice cut through the tension as my eyes went wide with panic. I turned just in time to see her step onto the patio, her face bright with life until she met Trent’s eyes and then everything seemed to drain from her like water leaking from a sieve.

  “What is he doing here?” she seethed, her words barely audible from between clenched teeth.

  “It’s nothing,” I said, frozen in place as I watched her eye him from across the room. “He just came to visit.”

  “He came to visit?” she repeated, turning to me
in horror. “And you allowed him inside?”

  “Everly—so good to see you,” Trent smiled wickedly, making my fists clench greedily. I hadn’t tested out whether or not I liked making a good stiff punch to the face yet, and I was thinking Trent seemed like a good candidate to try that one out on.

  “Why don’t you go upstairs and wait, while I say good-bye to my old friend,” I said calmly, even while rage and panic twisted and turned my gut, making me feel anything but calm.

  She froze as my suggestion struck an obvious nerve. All I wanted was for her to be as far away from Trent as possible. I just wanted her safe. I always wanted her safe.

  Seeing her standing so close to this man, bathed in fear, made me erratic. In my haste to protect her, her reaction told me I’d uttered the one thing that made her feel anything but safe.

  “What did you just say?” she whispered, a tear already leaking from the corner of her eye. I could see her trust dissipating, receding as she took several steps back.

  My gaze darted to Trent, who was watching our entire exchange with an expression of amusement painted across his fucking face. Then he focused solely on Everly as she backed away from us, his gaze slowly roaming up her body, and I saw red.

  “Please, upstairs. Now.” She flinched at my harsh words, turning toward the door and running. I could hear her sobs echoing from the stairwell.

  “I want you to leave. Get the fuck out of my house and leave,” I said, not bothering to look in his direction.

  Trent walked to the slider and stopped. “I’ll have my secretary call you on Monday. Don’t disappoint me, Kincaid. You may not remember but I don’t take kindly to those who owe me a debt—even if that debtor happens to be a friend.”

  “We are not friends.”

  “We’ll see about that. Make sure you tell Everly I said good-bye—and take care of our girl…wouldn’t want anything to happen to her.” And then he disappeared inside. I listened for the front door to close before running up the stairs, two at a time to find her. I skidded to a halt in front of the master bedroom. It was the last place I expected her to be, but there she was, immobile as she stood beside the king-sized bed, looking down at the unfinished project I had yet to show her.