“I was up earlier, but got distracted. Had a wonderful breakfast,” Kingsley replied, looking meaningfully at her.
“Ah. You must introduce me to your new friend. I haven't seen her around here before,” Damiano said, taking her stiff hand in his own and raising it to his lips. She finally managed a smile.
“Martine,” she managed to breathe a name.
“Simply stunning. You always choose the best, Law. Terribly rude, seeing as how I'm footing the bill. I should get first pick,” Damiano teased, giving her a wink.
“You should get here on time, mate. Martine and I are gonna go for a little drive, see if we can't find somewhere interesting to get into some trouble,” Kingsley smoothly lied.
“Sounds like fun. I hope you will come back and see me, Martine,” Damiano told her.
The girl floundered for a moment, so Kingsley took the initiative and leaned into her, shoving his tongue in her mouth. She gave a muffled shout, but it thankfully came off more like a moan of passion. He let his hand run down the length of her body before coming to a stop on her ass.
“I think I may be employing Martine exclusively,” he said when he'd pulled away, staring very directly into her wide blue eyes. He was happy to see a blush staining her cheeks.
“So selfish. Alright, off with you two. The only time I like to watch people having sex is when it's in a mirror.”
Damiano headed into the house, and Kingsley led his new friend outside the gates. She maintained her composure as he took her to a car, and even sat primly in her seat while they went down the driveway. But as soon as they were out of sight of the guards, she turned towards him and whacked him in the throat.
“Your tongue should never ever come near my body, ever again, got it?” she demanded. He coughed for a moment and rubbed at his Adam's apple.
“Cheers, thanks for that. I thought it was a rather nice kiss,” he complained.
“You thought wrong. Let me out of this thing.”
Kingsley pulled over to the side of the road, but locked all the doors before she could get out. She glared at him while she yanked on her door handle.
“Look, child, you're in over your head. Whatever cause it is you think you're working towards, it's not worth it. You're too green. If I hadn't been there today, I can guarantee you'd have gotten killed,” he told her.
“I guess we'll never know.”
“It's a fact. And I'm being very serious now, so listen closely. If I find you in that house again, I won't play games. I will shoot you,” he said it very simply, but could see she took it seriously. She finally sat back against her seat.
“I won't go back,” she assured him, and for once, he believed her.
“Now, I'm almost positive you're with the FBI. My advice is to stick to whatever orders you were given. Stick to the mission. Lying and bumbling about won't help your career.”
She stared at the windshield for a long moment, and he guessed he'd hit the nail on the head. She finally took a deep breath and looked over at him.
“Why did he call you that?” she asked, catching him off guard.
“Why did who call me what?”
“Law. Damiano called you the law.”
Kingsley smiled big.
“Because my word is law, and that's why you should heed it. Out you go,” he insisted, releasing the door locks.
“That's it? All this ... and you're just gonna send me off into the jungle?” she asked.
“I'm touched that you'll miss me, darling, really I am, but I have big boy work to do. I can't hold your hand all day,” he told her, running his finger down the side of her arm.
One more hit to his Adam's apple and she was jumping out of the car. He got one last look at her perfect ass, then she disappeared behind some ferns.
My, my, that was fun. I wonder what we'll get up to next?
Muscle Memory
Jon rubbed at his eyes. He'd been on set for close to eighteen hours. He hated days like this, even though they were his own choice. They were making a movie about his accident, and the terms of his contract allowed him to be on set, to offer advice about setting and scenes. Luckily, the screenwriter and the director were totally on board with him being there. They utilized his memory, or his lack thereof, depending on the situation.
“Mr. Doherty,” a production assistant came hurrying up to his side. “You've got a phone call.”
Probably Delaney. His only voice of reason when he went into work mode – if he stayed too long, she would start calling incessantly until he gave up and came home. Cell phones weren't allowed on the live set, so it meant the assistants were put through the wringer, running back and forth to find Jon.
“Right, right,” he sighed as he trudged back to the office. He grabbed the receiver and held it up to his ear. “I know, I'm leaving now. I should be home in like -”
“Jon Doherty?”
He paused for a moment, startled to hear a male voice at the other end of the line. Then he glanced at his watch. It was after eleven at night, what stranger would be calling him?
“Yes, can I help you?” he asked.
“Hi, I'm Dr. Stryker at Mount Sanai Brooklyn hospital. You're listed as an emergency contact for Delaney Carter.”
His whole body went cold.
“Yeah, she's my girlfriend, we're engaged. What's going on?” he demanded.
“She's had a little accident, we need you to come here -”
“A little accident? What does that mean?” he started speaking fast. “Is she okay? Is she hurt?”
“She's fine for now, but she is unconscious. Could you come down here, please, and answer some questions?”
“I can be there in about thirty minutes,” Jon started fumbling around, grabbing his jacket and bag from a chair. “She's okay? She's not hurt?”
“Please, Mr. Doherty, just get down here and we talk about everything.”
Not a comforting way to end that kind of phone call.
Jon dropped the phone into its cradle, then practically ran out of the little office. He nearly bowled over the assistant who'd gotten him for the call.
“Is everything okay, Mr. Doherty?” the kid asked.
“No, there's been an accident at home. Get me a car, then tell everyone I won't be in tomorrow.”
Even in a private car that had been instructed to break speed limits and run red lights, it still took forever to get there. He chewed his nails the whole way, not caring at all what Sloany would say when she saw the state of them.
As they drove along, his cell phone started ringing. He was so startled by the noise in the loud car, he almost dropped it. When he finally got hold of it, he answered without looking at the contact screen.
Please be you, Del. Please let this all be a mistake.
“Hey, you!” Kitty's cheery voice sang over the line. He resisted the urge to groan. He couldn't deal with her right now.
“Hey, Kitty. Now's not a good time,” he sighed, raking his hand through his hair.
“I know, I know, you're Mr. On-the-job now, but I just had to tell you – it's a girl!”
Yup, Ms. Kitty Beaumont was pregnant. She was tickled pink about it, but the rest of them were more reserved. She'd gone through a whole line of boyfriends, attempting to replace Jon, or whoever Jon had replaced, he was never quite sure. Her latest charity case was a really decent guy, an Ivy Leaguer who'd gotten caught selling drugs on campus. He'd only been doing it to pay his tuition, he swore to anyone who would listen.
Jon was still trying to decide whether or not he believed it.
Not that it mattered anymore, anyway. Kitty got pregnant, so a wedding was already in the works. Nothing anyone said dissuaded her, so at this point, they were just all praying for the best. Delaney was gonna do her makeup on the big day.
“That's amazing, Kitty. I bet she'll be just like you. Can I call you back, though? I'm kind of in the middle of something.”
“Is everything okay?” she asked, finally cluing into the tension in h
is voice.
“No, actually. I just got a call from a hospital, Delaney's been in some kind of accident.”
“Oh no! Which hospital, we can be there in -”
“Kitty,” her name came out as a growl, but then he calmed himself. “The doctor said she's fine, I'm just trying to get down there to help with paperwork. It's fine, we don't need you just yet.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “You shouldn't be alone for something like this.”
“If I need you, I promise I'll call, okay?”
“Okay, promise. I'll check in with you later.”
“Kitty, it's almost midnight and you're pregnant. Go to sleep. I'll call you in the morning,” he said, leaning forward in his seat as he realized they were pulling up to the hospital entrance.
“Okay. Take care, Jon.”
“I will.”
He was out of the car before it had even fully rolled to a stop. He went to the emergency room first, then admissions. Finally, the doctor who'd called him was tracked down, and Jon was sent to meet him at a room on a completely different floor.
“Mr. Doherty?” the doctor guessed as Jon jogged down the hall.
“Yeah, that's me. How is she?” he said, shaking the doctor's outstretched hand.
“Oh, fine, fine. You know, I've always wanted to meet you. I saw that GMA episode, with you and your doctor. Your case is fascinating. Total amnesia, huh?”
Was this real life? Jon stared down at the man, a little flabbergasted.
“Yeah, I'm a real medical marvel. Can we talk about my girlfriend, now?”
“Of course! Sorry, yes,” Dr. Stryker opened a file folder he was holding and looked over some things. “Based on witness accounts, Ms. Carter was leaving a restaurant on Flatbush Avenue, just north of us. There was some kind of altercation happening on the sidewalk in front and she got knocked down, hit her head pretty hard.”
“Oh jesus,” Jon breathed.
“There's no sign of a concussion or any fractures, though she got a nasty cut on the back of her head. She regained consciousness briefly in the E.R., but we had to sedate her to give her some stitches.”
“But she's okay? Nothing serious?” Jon checked.
“She's fine. We can go in and see her. We called you here so you could fill out some paperwork, answer some questions. When we questioned her in the E.R., she seemed to have trouble ...” the doctor started explaining as he led the way into the hospital room. Jon tuned him out as he looked across the room.
Delaney's tiny form was laying in the middle of a hospital bed. She was mid-yawn when they walked in, then she stretched her arms above her head. When they got to her side, it was just in time to see her blink open her big blue eyes. She looked around the room, then focused on Jon. Glanced at the doctor. Then back at Jon. She finally smiled.
“Hey, you,” she sighed, her voice full of sleep. Jon smiled back.
“Hey, you, starting fights?” he chuckled. She smiled, but her brow dipped in confusion.
“What?”
“Hello, Delaney,” Dr. Stryker stepped between them and flashed a pen-light in her eyes. “Can you tell me how old you are?”
“What?”
“Do you know what city you're in?”
“Um ...”
“Can you tell me your last name, please.”
“It's ... uh ...”
“Who is the current president of the United States of America?”
Jon felt a sinking sensation in his stomach.
This cannot be happening. This cannot be real.
“I know it ... I know it's ...” Delaney was clearly struggling to remember.
“Who am I?” Jon suddenly barked out, leaning over the bed. “What's my name, Delaney. Who am I?”
“I swear I know it ...” she whispered, pressing her hands against her head.
Jesus, not again. Losing his own memory had been bad enough, but the thought of Delaney losing hers ... not knowing him, not knowing them ... he wouldn't survive it. She was stronger than him, she'd made it through that kind of hell. He didn't think he'd be able to.
The edge of his vision started turning black, so he stumbled backwards until he fell into a chair. He had his hand against his chest, trying to slow his racing heart. The doctor was calling out to him while simultaneously pushing on the call button for the nurses.
“Jon.”
What kind of sick, cruel, twist of fate was this? First take away his memories, then take away his girlfriend's? Was he not allowed to have a normal life? Not allowed to be happy?
“Jon!”
God, and what about Delaney? She'd always had the raw end of the stick. Falling in love with him when he was a dirty disgusting homeless drug pusher. Sticking by him when he didn't even remember her and had been dating Kitty. Helping him navigate the fog in his brain by continuing to love him and remind of the things he'd forgotten. And all for what? To forget everything, as well? It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fucking fair.
“Jayson!”
At the sound of his other name, his “real” name, he snapped to attention. Delaney was sitting completely upright in her bed, staring at him. When he made eye contact with her, she let out a deep sigh.
“I swear, doc, the boy is half fainting goat,” she said, and the doctor laughed.
“But ... I ... you ...” Jon stammered, pushing himself to his feet.
“It's common for people with head injuries to have short term memory issues. Coupled with the anesthesia, I'm surprised she even knows she's on planet earth,” Dr. Stryker chuckled.
“I'm fine, Jon,” she promised him, holding out her hand. He stumbled forward and latched onto it.
“Are you sure? You didn't know your own name.”
“Well, that's because I only have one. You have two, it's weird. Hard to forget,” she teased.
“She's okay? Really okay?” Jon demanded, still nervous. The doctor nodded.
“Yes, I assure you, this is all very common. She has a concussion, but not amnesia. A case like yours is very rare, Mr. Doherty.”
“Carter!” Delaney suddenly burst out. “I remember my last name! Oh, god, that was killing me! Is this how you feel all the time?”
She looked up at Jon, and he couldn't help but laugh. He squeezed her hand between both of his.
“Pretty much, just without the outburst at the end.”
“This sucks. Jeez, I'm really sorry for all those times I teased you about having losing your memory,” she groaned, rubbing her forehead.
“It really sucks,” he agreed. “But you teasing me makes it better.”
“Brooklyn!” she shouted, and she yanked her hand from his so she could clap. “Ha, told you I knew it. And the current president is -”
“That's enough,” the doctor held up his hand. “I'm confident you're fine. Just rest for a bit. I'll check on you in an hour or so, then we can see about getting you out of here.”
He left Jon with a pile of medical and insurance paperwork. He glanced down at it, then put it aside and climbed into the bed next to her.
“You scared me,” he whispered. She curled up against his side and nodded.
“I know. Sorry. It really wasn't as bad as it seems, I think.”
“What happened?”
“I met a client down here, decided to grab some Indian food on the way home. It's a little fuzzy after that, I think there was a fight? I tripped over something? I don't know. This is what I get for leaving the Heights,” she snorted, and he laughed.
“They said you needed stitches.”
“Oh yeah, I can feel them,” she said, then she rolled onto her opposite side. Her hands went under her heavy dark hair and she lifted the mass away from her shoulders.
Sure enough, maybe two inches away from her left ear, there was a shaved patch on her head. The wound was small, maybe six stitches or so. She certainly wouldn't have to worry about a scar, not with a cut that small, in that location. Jon reached out and gently touched the puckered skin around the thread
s.
“Does it hurt?” he asked. She shrugged and dropped her hair.
“Not right now, but I'm sure it will,” she replied as she moved onto her back again.
“We'll make sure to get you a prescription.”
“No.”
“Delaney, don't be so -”
“No.”
Still clean and sober, she was completely unshakable in her determination. Even aspirin was only taken after a lot of nagging from Jon.
“You're such a pain in the ass,” he sighed, turning into her and wrapping his arm around her waist.
“Not as big a one as you,” she replied, then she yawned big.
“Hey, don't sleep. You have a concussion,” he warned her.
“I'm in a hospital, what's the worst that could happen?”
He was silent for a moment, then he hugged her tightly.
“Last time I woke up in a hospital, I didn't remember you. I didn't remember us. I don't want that to happen,” he whispered.
“Jon,” she whispered back, and she pressed her hand to the side of her face. “That's not going to happen again, I promise.”
“You don't know that.”
“I do. The chances of it happening to you in the first place were a billion to one. The chances of it happening again, to me? Non-existent.”
“Not good enough odds for me.”
She was silent for a while, her fingers gently stroking through his hair. Then she pressed her cheek to the top of his head and he could feel her smiling
“You're wrong,” she breathed.
“About what?”
“About what happened last time you were in a hospital.”
“Huh?”
“You're remembering waking up from your accident,” she told him. “But you were in the hospital again after that.”
He thought for a second. He'd been taken to the hospital after he'd fainted from seeing her again.
“You're right,” he agreed.
“So the last time you were in a hospital, you woke up and found me. And I found you. So it was actually a good thing,” she stressed. He smiled and closed his eyes.
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