The others in the room have moved closer again, and I squint as I try to recognize them. Nope. Nothing. They look like complete strangers. Fuck, I don’t even know what I look like at this point. Glancing down, I see a lot of wires and tubes sticking out everywhere, and my body is bruised, with scratches and cuts along my arms, but nothing looks familiar.
“We’ll be holding you for a few more days to watch for anymore bleeding and to make sure your concussion heals properly. We can have a social worker meet with you if you feel you need to talk about what’s happened. These lovely people here are your parents and your sister. They’ve been with you the whole time.”
“The whole time? How long was I out for?” That’s the only question I can formulate. Not the fact the doctor just told me these strangers are my parents and my sister. I mean, they must be, right? Random strangers wouldn’t waste their time here with someone they didn’t know.
What else can I do but believe what I’m told? What would you do?
“Only a few hours. You’ve been in and out of sleep from the pain meds. Nurse Jackie and I will leave you to visit with your family now. I know it’s hard when it seems like you don’t know these people but try to take comfort in the fact their love for you is written all over their faces.” Dr. Evans and Nurse Jackie smile before exiting the room.
“Oh, Jules, I’m so sorry, baby. This is killing me.” The woman, who I assume is my mother, fishes in her purse and pulls out pictures. “You’re our firstborn, Juliet Marie, and we love you very much.”
I glance at the pictures, but they don’t help. I don’t recognize anyone. But what I can recognize is the pain and love etched on her face. When I glance at the young woman, who must be my sister, I smile slightly, and she bursts into tears and runs around the side of the bed to hug me.
“Jelly Bean, I’m so sorry. You’ll be okay. I’m here for you,” she whispers and hugs me tight. I hug her back because what else can I do? Her love is strong, and I can’t help but want to feel a piece of it.
It’s weird knowing what these feelings are when I don’t know who I am. My mind drifts as I take in my room. I know it’s a hospital; it’s sterile-looking with beeping machines and a plain white clock with a black rim around it. How do I remember what a hospital looks like, but I can’t remember these people in front of me with so much love pouring from them?
“Jelly Bean?” I mumble as she pulls away.
“My nickname for you. You call me Lil’ J.”
“Your name starts with a J, too?”
She nods. Her hair is dark, her eyes even darker. I imagine I look like her, or I should say I hope I do because she’s gorgeous. Her tan skin, her big eyes and long lashes, and heart-shaped face, she must get whomever she wants. “Jess, Jessica Diane. Our middle names are from Mom. She’s Diane Marie, and Dad is Peter Michael.”
I nod and glance at the man next to my mom, who I assume is my father. When I look back and forth between my mom and dad, I do see my sister’s looks from them. I need to see what the hell I look like.
“Does anyone have a mirror?”
They give me a weird look, but Jess runs over to her purse. “I do.”
It’s in front of my face a second later, and when I see my reflection, my mouth drops open.
My look is similar to Jess, yet different in my own way. Soft features like my mother, and tan skin like my father, my own eyes big and slightly lighter in color than Jess, yet our similarities can easily be seen.
I hope studying my face would wiggle a memory, but nothing.
I’m a complete stranger to myself.
Handing the mirror back to my sister, she looks down at my hand. “Jules, where’s your ring?”
“What ring?” I look down at my fingers and wonder what she’s talking about.
“Your engagement ring. I’m going to ask where they put your jewelry.”
My head reels with the new information. Engagement ring?
“You’re engaged, Jules. His name is Will,” Jess whispers.
Another bomb dropped on me. Shit. This is all so fucked up.
“Where is he then?” I blurt out.
“He’s on his way,” my mother assures, patting my hand. “He went out of town for a conference, but he took the next possible flight. He should be here anytime now.”
The door opens, and a man stumbles in, looking disheveled and out of breath. Frantic and worried. But when his eyes land on me, his entire face melts.
My heart picks up in speed again.
But not from nerves this time.
I don’t know what for, but it’s there all the same, like my heart suddenly joined a race I didn’t know about.
He rushes over, and the air changes, shifting in intensity. “I got here as fast as I could. Jules, are you okay?” He grabs my arm, and I jump from his touch like I was sparked with an electrical current.
“She doesn’t remember us right now, Will,” Jess says beside us, and Will looks between us all before his focus falls back on the one thing it’s been on this whole time: me.
“What?” His entire face falls, and he leans closer to me as if that’ll make me remember.
Oh my fucking God—I don’t even remember this man—yet my heart breaks with the way he’s looking at me.
“Jules, babe. It’s me. Will. You’ve known me since you were six.”
I wish I knew something, anything, to say to relieve his pain, but I don’t. I can only stare, frozen in the strong current of his love for me, a love I don’t remember, a love I can’t even imagine having.
Do I even deserve the way this man looks at me?
“Jules?”
I try to form some sort of words, but nothing’s there. It’s like he put a spell on me.
My mom walks up next to Will and places her hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Will. It’s only temporary. We need to give her time.”
Will covers his head with his hands and falls into a chair.
This is all too much. I can’t handle all of these feelings. I want to fucking scream. I close my eyes and will myself to remember.
Remember, c’mon, remember, you stupid brain.
How hard can it be to remember people you’ve known your entire life?
I keep squeezing my eyes tighter, but the memories don’t come.
Nothing comes except the tears.
CONTINUE READING
TO CRAVE & COVET
A Black Rose Collection Novel
by Rachel Blake
PROLOGUE
The coarse rope dug into Murphey’s wrist, rubbing the skin raw. She wasn’t tied to anything, but she assumed they’d left the rope for convenience.
“Sit still,” the man next to her rumbled, knocking her with his shoulder hard enough to send her toppling over in her seat, her head banging into the sliding door next to her.
“Boss isn’t going to like that. He said no one touched her but him.” An unknown man spoke from the front of the vehicle. “Sit her back up before we get there, man. I’m not taking the flack for you on this one. Tell him, Joey.”
All she heard was a grunt of response before her arm was harshly grasped and she was roughly pulled back into a sitting position.
“I don’t know what’s so special about her. Looks like any other broad to me. Tits aren’t that good, and she’s got a scar on her lip. I mean, her ass is nice and all but nothing he couldn’t find on someone willing.”
“Shut the fuck up. Both of you.”
“Come on, Joey. You have to admit, with his standings, he could do better.”
“I said, stop. Fucking. Talking.”
Her eyes watered behind the blindfold and her nose started to run once more. He wasn’t saying anything she didn’t already know about herself. Hell, she’d gotten her fair share of death glares from her fiancé when she pointed out her own flaws, and a spanking or two as a reprimand, but hearing someone else point them out was a whole different level of hurt.
At least he didn’t point out the roun
dness of your belly.
Of course, the voice in the back of her head was going to make itself known. It was no shock that the voice sounded suspiciously like her mother.
“Great, now she’s crying. What the fuck does he want with this sniveling, weak woman?”
“Shut the fuck up, man. What if she reports this back to the boss?” The same man questioned from the front seat.
“She won’t if she knows what’s good for her.” The man grabbed her by the throat, pulling her close. “You know what’s good for you, don’t you, Kiwi? You know better than to let your mouth run.”
The sound of the nickname had a sob welling in her throat.
“No. No! You’re not allowed to call me that, only one person gets to call my by that name and you’re not him.” A squeal fell from Murphey’s lips as her hair was roughly fisted.
“You were never allowed to be called that at all, were you? Kept in your ivory tower like some princess. Too bad you don’t have the body to back up that image. The boss is going to be so disappointed when he finally sees you.”
“Good, then maybe he’ll let me go!” Murphey sneered.
“Fat chance, princess.”
Swinging blindly, she smiled when her third attempt made contact with a scruffy neck and a grunt sounded from her victim.
“I’m not a princess. I was a prisoner,” she corrected him, arms still swinging.
Her arms were roughly wrenched behind her back a second before hot breath brushed her ear. “If you think you’re going to be anything but a prisoner now, you’re sorely mistaken.” Jerking her blindfold from her eyes, his dark eyes bore into her. “If you’re lucky, he won’t share you with too many of us.”
“Seth, shut the fuck up!” Joey commanded from the front seat.
“Come on, Joey. You know I’m right.” Seth’s voice was an annoying whine. “He shared the last one until there was nothing left to share.”
Seth’s chuckle had a chill running down Murphey’s spine.
“Then again, when she stopped screaming, it wasn’t all that much fun anymore.”
Murphey watched in shock as the man in the passenger seat, Joey, turned and punched Seth in the face, blood instantly pouring from the offended nose.
Joey spoke as he tried to shake the pain from his hand. “I will not tell you again. Shut. Your. Fucking. Mouth.”
“What the fuck, man?” Seth’s hands went to his nose, muffling his words he spoke. “Goddamn it! I’m fucking with her. Boss likes them riled.”
“I wouldn’t suggest bringing the big man into this. I would think he’d be very disappointed in you and your way of treating women.” Joey’s eyes softened when he looked at her. “I’m sorry, Murphey. Please excuse this fucking idiota.”
“You expect me to think you’re any better?” Murphey curled her lip in disgust. “You both associate with your boss. You can’t be all that different.”
Joey actually looked a little sad, if not resigned by her remark. Did he not want to be there? Didn’t he agree with what he was doing?
“You’re right.” Sighing heavily, he nodded his head. “I can’t be that much different from him, but you of all people should know blood has a way of tying you to some unsavory people.”
Any retort she had was cut short by the godawful sound of metal meeting metal. The crunch of the weak structure of the van crumbled in on itself, drowning out any other noise but her screams-those were clear as day.
In what felt like slow motion, Murphey was thrown from her seat, her head crashing into the side of the van once again, her body crumbling in on itself with the momentum behind her. With pain radiating from her skull, she rolled and landed in a tight space, her shoulder screaming out when it took the full weight of her body. The loose ropes around her wrists snagged on something and kept her from being able to catch herself.
She watched as the other bodies settled around her, the people that had been whipped around like rag dolls just seconds ago were eerily still. Not one of them moving. The only man who remained in his seat was Joey, and his arms hung uselessly above his head.
Slowly, reality took hold. They’d rolled, and the van had settled on its roof.
Silence engulfed her.
It was never silent after a crash in the movies. Where was the blare of the horn, the moaning of the people in the vehicle, the sound of voices outside? Something. It was never silent in the movies. A cry fell from her lips. She needed sound, any sound to prove she wasn’t dead like the body next to her, the man who’d been so rough with her. He laid in a crumpled heap, head twisted at an awkward, unnatural angle.
Even knowing a dead man laid next to her, the silence was even scarier. Silence meant there was nothing and no one coming. Silence meant the lifetime of criticism was going to echo though her head-insults, mocking, and all the hate was unchecked and screaming at her.
You are nothing. Not even going to have a chance to make something of yourself now. All because you had to go against your family, and now, you’re dying a slow and painful death.
Murphey’s eyes started to drift closed, the lids too heavy to keep open. She knew she shouldn’t go to sleep, knew the best course of action was to stay awake until someone was there to help her, but she was just so tired. She knew she was going to die; but the thought of dulling the pain was just too tempting to pass up. It would just be like falling asleep.
A moan caught her attention and had her prying her eyes open the slightest bit. “Hello?” Murphey’s voice wasn’t her own, but the raspy, slightly gargled sound had come from her. “Help, please help.”
“Murphey?” Joey’s voice sounded from the front seat. “Are you stuck? Y-you need to get out of here.”
She watched as he tried to pry the tongue of his seatbelt from the buckle. “I don’t know if I can move.”
“You don’t have a choice. Get out. Now!”
“I can’t.”
“Quit telling me what you can’t do and do as you’re told.” Joey cursed under his breath. “I can’t get this damn buckle to release and there’s no damn sense in us both dying in the fucking fire.”
“I’m tired.”
“No! Don’t you dare! Open those eyes, Murphey. Open them!”
As her eyes fell closed, she muttered a response, “Someone will be here soon. Someone will save us both.”
“No, they’re a few minutes behind us. Murphey, open your fucking eyes!” Joey’s voice sounded as if he was yelling from the other end of a tunnel. “Murphey! Murphey, can you smell that?”
She’d smelled the smoke a few minutes ago, but she was too tired to do anything about it. “Sleep will make it hurt less.”
“That’s not how it works. You need to get out of the car. Now!”
“Noooo.”
“You’re not understanding what I’m saying. I cannot sit here and listen to you being burned alive.” Joey pulled frantically on his seat belt. “I’m trapped, you’re not. Get the fuck out of the car. Don’t make me listen to you being burned to death.”
“I can’t. I’m so tired.”
The sound of a car door being slammed had the both of them turning.
“People. Thank fuck!” Joey visibly relaxed as the people rushed to the van. “Murphey’s injured and growing weak. I’m fine, but I can’t get my belt undone. Pass me a knife and get her out.”
A man crouched next to Joey’s door. The heat radiating from the hood forcing him to move back a bit, and the pair exchanged a few muttered words. With a nod of their heads, the man stood once more and the sleek, leather loafers simply walked to her side of the car.
“No, they can’t do this.” Strength she didn’t have five minutes before took over and Murphey pulled herself over the pebbled glass to Joey. “They have to help you. They’re here, they have to get you out too.”
A hand encircled her ankle as she frantically started pulling his seatbelt. “No, stop! Don’t touch me!”
“Don’t fight them, Ciccio. Let them save you. They have nothin
g to get me out with. They have to take you.”
Kicking the hand wrapped around her ankle extracted a string of curse words from the unknown man, but her small victory was short lived as she was grabbed once more and jerked across the shards of glass and pulled out into the dark night. “Fine, you have me, now get him. Save him! Damn it, Joey!”
“Girl.”
A hard slap to her ass stunned her into silence for a few moments, but the jumping orange flames had her adrenaline moving once more as she was pulled to her feet. “You have me, just, please, get him out. Please. Don’t leave him here to die.” Tears ran in quick succession down her face as she was picked up and shuffled toward the awaiting car.
“We have to get you out of here. They’re only a few minutes behind us.”
“No! No. You can’t leave him. He’ll die!”
Pushing her into the car, the man gave her no choice but to slide over as he climbed in beside her, anger radiating off of him. “You think I don’t know that? You think I’m so cold hearted that I want to leave my cousin to die such a horrible death? But I don’t have a choice. If we don’t get you out of here, we all die.”
“Selfish motherfucker!” Murphey slid to the other side and tried the handle; the door didn’t move. Turning back, she pled one last time, the strength from the adrenaline ebbing. “Please. Please, don’t make me carry the memory of a man’s death with me for the rest of my miserable life. Please.”
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and shook his head, “I’m sorry.”
Turning back to the window, she watched as the flames leapt and licked across the bottom of the overturned van. She didn’t dare allow her eyes to move to the passenger side window. There was no way she would be able to unsee the look on Joey’s face as his only hope at surviving the crash drove away.
Marrying the Mobster: American Gangsters 1 (Leave Me Breathless) Page 32
