“Because of the tumour. One the size of yours would have been growing for quite a while. That you remember now suggests its removal, or maybe the surgery I did to correct a small bleed, was the trigger for your memories coming back.”
“So why can’t I remember what I’ve done for the past few years?”
“You’ve just undergone a serious operation on your head. There will be some swelling which will gradually go down. Common side effects include loss of concentration and trouble remembering things. There are definitely physical reasons. I wouldn’t have expected you to wake and be cured immediately. PTSD could be playing a part. You’ve moved on, made a new life, left the old one behind. You feel guilty, so instead of trying to assimilate your fresh memories of your life before, you’re believing you’re back twelve years ago. Sometimes our thoughts take the easiest path.”
“My brain’s fucked.” I take it he’s suggesting that my way of coping is pretending it never happened, instead of admitting what an asshole I’ve been to Vanna and Cas by denying them all these years.
He chuckles. “That’s not a medical term I’d use. Don’t push yourself too hard. I’ll set you up with a therapist, and we’ll work on getting your memories back. You’ll also need to have some physical therapy to help you recover your strength on your right-hand side.”
After giving me a bit of medical jargon about the operation itself, and what I can expect during my recovery, he gets up to leave.
“How soon can I get out of here, Doc?”
“I would hope by the weekend. It depends on how you do.” He opens the door. “Ah, Mrs James. Your husband needs rest. Please don’t stay too long.”
Vanna comes in. “You sure you’re up to this, Lizard?”
“Is he here?” I ask fast. At her nod, I swallow a couple of times. “I want to see my son.”
A boy, no, a young man enters. Well I’ll be fucked. He’s as tall as me. Last time I saw him, he’d barely come up to my knee.
“You’ve grown,” I squeak, then cough to clear my throat, having to ignore the blast of pain which goes through me. Still, I refuse to use the morphine pump that’s beside me.
“You’re hurting,” Vanna accuses. “Liz, this is too much for you, too soon.”
I hold out my hand, curling my finger toward Cas. “Come closer. Let me get a good look at you.”
I’m meeting a stranger. Someone who carries my blood, someone who even looks like me, despite the colouring he got from his mom. I have no fucking idea what to say to him.
“How are you feeling, Dad?”
“Like a mule kicked me in the head,” I reply, startling at the word he called me. How can I equate this with the child who last called me ‘Daddy’?
Vanna looks from me to Cas, then back to me again. “What did the doctor say?”
I know she’s asked to distract us from this awkward moment, when neither of her men seem to know what to do or find words to come out of their mouths.
“He said my retrograde amnesia over the past twelve years could have been caused by physical damage to the brain, compounded by the growth of the tumour.”
“Why have you forgotten again, Dad?” Cas asks. “Why don’t you remember the club or your friends?”
I stare at him, then at Vanna. “Could be the swelling that’s yet to go down, could be PTSD, my brain shutting out the pain of how I’ve mistreated you both.”
“You coming home, Dad?”
What a fucking question to ask. I have no idea of the answer. I swallow back the yes as I realise, I don’t even know where home is now. I presume we’re still in San Diego? Does Vanna live in the same house? Will she want me back after all this time? When I glance at my wife, I notice a strained expression on her face. I’d married a young girl and did my best to look after her. Even when I was overseas, I’d checked in regularly with her, paid all the bills and provided for them both. For twelve years now she’d been on her own, raising a son with no one beside her. Already I can see changes, and not just the physical signs of a woman who’s grown older. There’s a new maturity about her. A confidence in the way she holds herself. She might still love me, but does she want me back in her life? Does she want a man who hadn’t been there for her?
How much have the years changed me? I’m apparently a biker, for fuck’s sake. I’d been in the Marines, and that’s all I can remember. What made me enter the outlaw lifestyle, I’ve no fucking idea. I can’t remember myself ever thinking of bikers as anything other than adrenaline junkies with scant regard for anyone else, or even as criminals. If I really joined that type of gang, am I still the man I was? Has my thinking and outlook been altered forever?
I could answer Cas’s question with a simple yes, as that’s what he’s obviously expecting, but it’s far more complicated than that. I’ll have to learn who Vanna is all over again and reprove I’m the man for her. As for Cas himself, how’s he going to react with me stepping into the role of being a father?
Then there’s the little fact that I’ve apparently been with whores. That doesn’t bear thinking about. I just hope I gloved up and didn’t catch anything.
“You don’t want to come back.” Cas supplies the answer when I take too long to reply.
“Cas, Son. No, it’s not that.” I try to put my thoughts into words. “You’ve been without me for twelve years. I’d love to say I’ll step back in and pick up where we left off, but I’ll be stuck in the past, and you’ve moved on. Gonna take a moment to get used to that. Your mom might not want me back, or not straightaway.” The last sentence was hard to get out of my mouth. Vanna not want me? I can’t bear to think about that. She’s my wife for fuck’s sake. Or was, twelve years back.
“At least you won’t need to change diapers.” Vanna smiles. “Of course you can come home with us, you’ll need to convalesce somewhere.”
I’d hate to be a burden on anyone. Perhaps I should go to my own place. If I have one, that is. Do I even have a home? Own, rent? Or had Vanna said something about living at a motorcycle club? Surely not, I like my own space. “Where do I live?”
“You live here, in Pueblo. At the club. We live in Denver.”
I moved? “Why are we not still in California?”
“I don’t know.” Vanna’s biting her lip. “You moved first. When I found where you’d gone, I followed you. I, I thought if I still saw you occasionally, you might remember.”
“You stalked me?” But fuck, I’m glad that she had. “Babe, I’m so grateful you didn’t give up on me.”
Then I catch sight of my son, and I almost feel him wishing that she had. If I’d died, she’d have mourned, moved on, maybe married a good man to be his father. But I’m still alive, not even sure who I am now, or whether I can be the man I once was.
What if I can no longer be the man she remembers, or, would even that be enough for her now?
My head hurts like a bitch. I know I’m overdoing it. My eyes close.
“I’ve had enough of this,” I hear Vanna say. Snapping my eyes open, I see her pressing the button that will send morphine into my veins. “You’re in pain, you need rest.”
The old Vanna wouldn’t have been so presumptuous, but I find I’m admiring the new version.
Already my eyelids feel heavy.
“Cas and I will leave you now. Get some rest, we’ll be back tomorrow.”
My eyes snap open. “Promise?” I ask, sounding like a needy child.
“I promise.”
She leans down, and I feel the brush of her lips against mine.
“Night, Dad.”
“Night, Son.”
Crazy dreams come at me. The loud sound of guns firing, the sharp cracks of sniper rifles, the boom of an explosion. Faces I don’t recognise appearing and melting into faces of men I served with. Hatch. I’ll catch up with Hatch when I get home.
Struggling up through the mire of sleep, I wake. For a moment I have difficulty separating reality from the morphine-induced dreams of the night. Had I dreamed ev
erything? Have twelve years really passed?
What’s real and what’s not?
Hatch? If so much time has gone by, he may not remember me. Or hate that I hadn’t been in touch. How could I have forgotten him? He’s my best bud. He’d been by my side… Fuck. I can’t remember any more.
“Good morning, Mr James.” A too bright male nurse enters my room.
“What year is it?”
When he tells me, despite my initial optimism, my talk with Vanna yesterday hadn’t been a dream.
Lost in my thoughts, I ignore what he’s doing as he takes my blood pressure. He then asks me to move my limbs.
“Do you think you can stand?” When I growl yes, he encourages me. “Slowly does it,” he warns when I sit up too fast.
“Christ, I feel weak,” I complain. My head is spinning and for a moment I don’t think I can stand.
“It’s quite normal to feel worse immediately after an operation like you’ve had. You need to give yourself time.”
“I’m alright.” I wave off his help. When I get to my feet, I stumble as my right leg folds and would have fallen had the nurse not helped me to sit back down.
“You might need crutches for a while,” he offers. “Were you weak in that leg before?”
How the fuck should I know?
“He wasn’t,” a stranger’s voice sounds. “He was fit and strong.”
I may not know him, but it would appear, he knows me. “Who are you?” Still struggling to stand, I eye the man who’s walked into my room as though he’s got every right to be there. He’s dark-haired and has brown eyes which seem to flare. He looks around my age.
“I’m Demon. Your prez.”
Whatever I’ve been doing for the last twelve years, I’m a changed man now. My Vanna would never want a biker as a father for Cas, or a husband associated with criminals. No. If I’m going to regain my wife and son, I’m going to have to alter my life.
“You’re not my anything,” I tell him fast. “I want nothing to do with you or your fuckin’ club. Now get out of my room and don’t bother coming back.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mace
“Are you alright?”
I glance up at Shayla who’s standing in the entrance to my room and give a quick shake of my head.
“Want to talk about it?”
I examine her face and think how to answer her question. It appears her company is just what I need. “Yes.”
“The women have been talking,” she says as she walks in. She indicates the bed, when I nod, she sits beside me, keeping a safe distance between us. “I’m not sure I understand. Vanna is Lizard’s wife, and Cas is his kid? Am I right, Mace? How does that work? He’s never acknowledged them.”
I know what she’s thinking, so I knock her ill thoughts of my brother on the head. “Lizard wasn’t being a dick, Shay. He’d truthfully forgotten his life before he joined us, or a big fuckin’ part of it.” I put it as simply as I can. “Now he’s remembered his wife and kid, but the joke’s on us. He’s now forgotten all his time with the club. Worse, he told Demon to get lost.”
“Isn’t that good, for him? And obviously for Vanna and Cas? She’s got her man back, and he’s got his kid.”
I fall back, one foot still on the floor, one knee bent so my other sole rests on the edge of the bed. My arm is over my eyes. “I don’t know,” I tell her, letting her into my thoughts. “It might be good now, but Liz lived for his job, loved his bike. What if he goes back to Vanna, settles into a nice suburban life, then remembers what he’s lost? The man I knew would have given his life for the club.”
“The man you knew didn’t want a wife or a child.” Seeing the expression on my face, she adds, “Women talk.”
I expect they have been trying to make sense of the little they know. But they’ll only have heard snippets of the story as the men will keep the main details to themselves. Vanna and Cas had gone straight to their room last night. I know she’s trying to work it through for herself.
It’s strangely comforting sitting here with Shayla. If I wanted to talk, Ink or any one of my brothers would give me their time, as I’d spare mine for anyone else, but it’s different with Shayla. She’s concerned for me more than any of the others, she’s something that I look on as mine. Oh, not in the forever sense or even sexually.
“You know,” she starts after a couple of minutes, “I’m wondering if the man you thought you knew didn’t exist. What if he didn’t want an old lady or family as deep down, he knew he had one waiting for him to find himself again? What if he’s both parts of a whole? What if he’s Vanna’s Lizard as well as yours? But just didn’t know it at the time.”
“He went with whores.” I roll my eyes at her. “Doesn’t seem much like a family man.”
“Would you?” she asks, her eyes creasing. “If you had someone, would you be faithful?”
I don’t tell her the situation would never arise, but I give it some thought and provide a truthful response. “If I was with someone, I’d never stray.” A safe answer as the whole of this is moot.
“How’s the boy handling it?”
“It’s hard for the kid, he’s confused. He doesn’t know his dad at all, only from what Vanna had told him over the years. He’s just about accepted there’s a club full of uncles for him to lean on, and he was as pleased as fuck to know he had our support. Now Lizard’s saying he wants nothing to do with the club or our life, and the kid’s likely to be ripped away from us. Cas doesn’t know what to think.”
“Perhaps that will change. It’s still early in his recovery. Don’t write him off just yet, Mace.”
It is still early. At least Prez has been able to get updates as he’s still next of kin on Liz’s records, though I’m sure Vanna wouldn’t keep his condition from us. “I thought his op would be the end of it, you know? But apparently messing with the brain is a dangerous thing. He’s weak on his right-hand side, almost as though he’s had a stroke, and he can’t walk too well which is frustrating him. His right hand doesn’t work properly either.”
“Is that his dominant one?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.”
Oh. There is the other problem. The consultant wasn’t able to give Prez a prognosis. They expect improvement once the swelling goes down, but he could be left with permanent damage. As he is now, he can neither do his job nor ride a bike.
“He’ll be getting occupational therapy,” I tell her. “We can only hope it works.”
“It’s early days,” she reminds me again.
“Next problem,” I speak half to myself, “is where he goes when he’s released. Prez is concerned if he goes back with Vanna.”
“Why? Surely that would be for the best?” She draws up her knees and wraps her arms around them.
I stare at her while I give her the reasons. “Vanna needs to work, and Cas is at school. Liz would be on his own most of the time. If he falls or needs help, no one would be there. Whereas here, someone’s always around.”
“That makes sense.” She looks thoughtful. “But what about the tattoo parlour? Can you manage without him?”
That’s the other problem we have. Even if he came back to the club, he’s not fit enough to work. “Vi’s stepping up to do the admin side, Jonah and Whale seem to be coping with the trade. But we’re down an artist, and a good one at that. It’s a big fuckin’ mess, Shay. I keep thinking it’s all my fault. Did I do wrong bringing Vanna onto the compound? Maybe if I hadn’t…”
“Can you hear yourself, Mace? Liz had a tumour.” She rolls her eyes. “I think you should be thankful instead of blaming yourself. What would have happened if he’d blacked out when he’d been riding his bike?”
I stare at her, realising she’s right. If he’d been riding in a group, he might have taken a few of us down with him. If he’d been on his own, fuck, it doesn’t bear thinking about. He could have died alone by the side of the road. I wipe my hand over my eyes. He had a tumour which was going to a
ffect him at some time, all my actions could have done was bring it on slightly earlier. At least when he collapsed, he was here with help around.
“I miss him, Shay.”
“I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“Letting me talk to you helps,” I tell her. “And that you’re staying around. It’s one less thing for me to worry about.”
“I still don’t know why you’d worry about me, Mace.”
She’s bemused not fishing. I don’t answer, I’m actually not sure myself. There’s just something about her that I like. I like talking to her, she’s easy company. I just wish there was more I could do to take that pain out of her eyes. Once I know more about Lizard, I promise myself I’ll look into therapy for her.
“Well I’m not going anywhere, at least for now.” She offers a smile. “Pyro said he’s grateful I’m around. They needed an extra pair of hands with you lot at the hospital.”
I know that. Pyro’s also told me he’s been impressed with how she’s willing to get stuck into any manner of things which need to be done. Apparently, she’d educated one of the newer mechanics when he’d accidentally topped off a tank with gas instead of diesel. Tore him a new one and made him empty the shit out and replace it. Pyro had been impressed that she’d noticed, and luckily before any damage was done. “Ro’s pleased with your work.”
She dismisses the compliment, instead telling me, “I worry about Esme.”
“Vi rang to ask about her. Her mom said she’s doing okay. Still not talking much but settling back into her home. They’ve seen their doctor and are arranging for a child therapist. I don’t think you need to worry, she’ll be fine.”
Her lips press together. “I miss her, Mace. Kind of got used to having her around.”
“She’s back where she belongs, with her folks.” I think for a moment. “Hey, when Ink’s finished my bike, I was thinking of riding down to Flagstaff to show it to her. Why don’t you come along?”
“On your bike?” Her yelp of surprise makes me snort.
Devil's Spawn: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #6 Page 24