On the drive back to the hospital, I think about the job Demon offered me, a temporary one only until Liz can either take back the reins or decide to move on from this life he can’t remember. I’m sure it can’t be too hard, it’s not a big shop after all. And I might appreciate being able to get out from under Liz’s feet all the time. I’m not the woman I was ten years ago, I’ve spent too long being independent. Like Cas, I’ve got to forge a different type of relationship with Liz now. He might think he can step back in and pick up where he left off, but he can’t.
When I walk into his room, Liz is sitting up, awkwardly forking some food into his mouth with his left hand.
“Hi. How was the scan?”
“Fuckin’ uncomfortable,” he grumbles. “Made my head hurt.”
“Did you get some rest afterwards?”
He nods.
“Did they say how it was looking?” Typical man. Looks like I’ll have to drag every answer out of him.
“There’s still a lot of swelling that needs to go down, but it’s going in the right direction, apparently. They’re going to do another scan on Friday, then if that’s okay, I can go home on Saturday.”
“That’s great.” Getting him out of here will hopefully be a major step toward his recovery.
“They want to know who my doctor will be in Denver, so they can get my notes sent down.”
“I’ll deal with that,” I say promptly, while in the back of my mind I come up with another good reason for staying local. He’d be close if he needs to see the consultant again. Consistency is often good in any treatment.
Liz seems comfortable with my offer to sort things out on his behalf. He places the empty plate on the table and changes the subject. “Tell me about Cas. What does he like to do? How’s he getting on at school?”
I spend some time giving him a rundown of our son’s likes, dislikes and achievements, with Lizard querying stuff he doesn’t know, such as the latest Xbox games when I say Cas is a fan. He shakes his head when he realises how much has moved on in the twelve years he’s forgotten. Then when he’s caught up with the present, he asks me what it was like bringing Cas up on my own. I try to make light of it, but I can see him appreciate at times it was hard.
At one point he reaches over and takes hold of my hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault Liz. You couldn’t have done anything to prevent it.”
Talking has tired him out. I pick up a magazine I’d brought in with me and read as he dozes, not really concentrating on the words on the page, as recollections of the conversation I’d had with Demon go through my head.
I’d accepted my new reality would be taking my husband home to Denver and trying to make the best of things once we got there. But Liz has been gone more years than we were actually married. I still love him, else I’d have removed the wedding band from my finger, wouldn’t I? But much of this man lying sleeping on the hospital bed is a stranger. I’ll have to find out if I can live with the man he is now, and he’ll have to do the same with me.
As Liz isn’t in danger of dying, mid-evening I cease my vigil by the side of his bed and drive back to the compound. Of course, I barely get in the door before I get questions thrown at me.
“How is he, Vanna?”
“Improving,” I inform the two men who asked, Rusty and Hellfire. “He’s had a scan and they’re pleased with the progress he’s made. He’ll have another on Friday, and then should be able to come out at the weekend.”
I notice all the men are around and remember it’s Wednesday, and they held their meeting called church earlier. My eyes narrow as I see the whores coming out to play, and I walk over to Cas who’s immersed in a game of pool with Pyro.
Waiting discreetly until Pyro wins, I step in only after the last ball is sunk. “Cas, time to get upstairs.”
Glancing anxiously behind me, I see Pyro catching my silent plea for help and he gives me a quick grin. “Time for me to get Mel home.”
Cas starts to object, but I toss him my best mom glare. “Wills has set an Xbox up for you in our room. You can play on that for a while.”
“Don’t see why I can’t stay down here,” he complains.
Pyro’s passing, having collected Mel from the kitchen and overhears. “Kids and old ladies aren’t welcome after a certain time. You know this, Cas.”
“I know what goes on.” My son looks stubborn.
“You want to outstay your welcome?” Pyro sternly replies. “Men want to be men, Cas. That means no one underage in the clubroom.”
Cas tosses his pool cue onto the table and stomps across the room to the stairs. I give a weak smile toward Pyro, then follow my son. Live porn, or any porn is not something I want my son subjected to or not just yet, nor the drunken and rowdy behaviour when the men let down their hair.
I want to make myself scarce too. I know this was Lizard’s life when he lived apart from me. It’s hard to accept he knows all these club girls intimately and I hate that they’ve had more years with him than he had with me.
I climb the stairs slowly. All I’ve wanted for twelve years is for my husband to come back. Now it seems he intends to, I realise what a stranger he’ll be, and how difficult it will be just to pick up where we left off. Add Cas and his teenage behaviour into the mix, and I know it could be explosive. Instead of a male figure being a positive influence in his life, it might be a disaster and send Cas further off the rails. Liz has no idea how to be a dad to someone his age.
He thinks he can control him like a two-year-old. He can’t, he needs completely different handling. One thing I’ve learned is, it’s best to give way on things that don’t really matter in order to have wins where they count.
I suppose the best news is that the charges against Cas have been dropped. But is that a good thing or bad? Will it just teach him he can get away with that shit? That’s not the lesson he should be learning.
I huff a laugh. I always thought if my husband ever recovered his memory all my problems would disappear. In reality, it appears they’re only just starting.
Chapter Thirty
Lizard
I apparently recovered from a traumatic brain injury I got in Afghanistan. Well, if you can call it a recovery. I forgot my wife, didn’t acknowledge my kid, and even accused her of stepping out on me as I couldn’t remember him being born. Fuck, I probably accused her of faking the marriage certificate.
Now I’ve forgotten that I ever forgot, though my memory is still playing tricks on me. I remember Hatch—must make time to contact him as soon as I’m well enough—and of course remember Vanna, but not as she is now. And Cas? Well, it seems I’ve got a teenager and not a little kid. That’s fucking hard to wrap my head around.
As I can last envisage her, Vanna hadn’t lost all her baby weight. I recall her worrying about it though that hadn’t mattered a damn to me. Those stretch marks and slightly rounded belly were just evidence she’d grown my baby inside her for nine months. Now? Well, in my head I’m more than a decade younger, and I’d never thought I’d go for an older woman. While I’d never admit it, that’s what she seems to me. Why can’t I look at her and feel horny, just as I used to?
She’s my wife. She’s stayed faithful. I owe it to her to stay with her, pick up where we left off, and step into my role as Cas’s father.
Can we make this work?
There’s been changes to me, changes I don’t remember. My body is covered in tats and I don’t even know why I got some of them, or what the images signify. I’ve got a full back patch with the Satan’s Devils’ insignia. I’d been horrified to spot that. It was proof they hadn’t been lying when I was told I was a member of an outlaw motorcycle gang, the sort my real friends had always warned me about. That’s not who I am. The loss of my memory must have caused an aberration in my brain, as who I was, and who I’ve woken up as, would never ride with such men.
They’re criminals, we all know that. MCs run drugs, women and guns. They live with c
onstant danger, fighting rival MCs and hiding what they do from the cops. Maybe a deeply hidden desire to end myself attracted me into their life?
I hope they’re leaving my woman and kid alone. I’m thankful Vanna and Cas are at a hotel, and not at the club. I’ll have to see what money I’ve got and help Vanna out to pay for that. Hopefully I’ll be out Saturday and we can return to her home. Her home, not mine. I’ve never seen it. All I can remember is living with her in San Diego.
We’ll be in the same bedroom.
Will we fuck? I’m not sure I’ll be able to, not having yet felt the slightest twitch in my cock, but my recent surgery will be a good excuse that will work at least for the immediate future.
I’m feeling cheated. The mirror in the bathroom shows nobody is lying when they say twelve years has passed by. It’s undeniable that I’ve grown older. My face is lined, even more so than Vanna’s, my skin leathery presumably from riding in all weathers and my hair long in a style I immediately hated. I even found a couple of grey pubic hairs when I’d had a close look.
In truth though, I feel about seventy. I hate the weakness on my right side. I’ve been told I’m a tattoo artist and a good one at that, though it’s hard to believe that seeing the state I’m currently in. My hand isn’t strong enough to hold a gun, and it shakes so much when I just try to lift it. How can I work when I can’t even hold a fork? For the time being, I’ll have to rely on Vanna and whatever military pension I get. Another thing stacked against us; I’ve never leaned so heavily on a woman before.
Whether or not my movement comes back, I’ll have to leave my current job. For one thing, it’s here, not Denver, and the other, I want nothing to do with the owners, the Satan’s Devils motorcycle club. It’s probably a front to launder money. I must have been lucky not to have been arrested and serve time in the intervening years. Or, if I have, no one’s yet told me.
The doctors have said it’s unpredictable whether I’ll get my memory back. Something tells me I’m suppressing it, as there’s no way I want to return to who I was. Who’d want to remember they were a biker for fuck’s sake? Not me, that’s for sure. Instead, I’ll move forward, I’ll step up and be a husband and father.
Am I? Can I?
“How are you feeling, Dad?”
“Hi, Cas. Come in. Where’s your mother?”
“She’s talking to the nurse.” Cad frowns as he comes over, giving me a critical look. “You’re going to look odd when they remove that bandage.”
I am indeed. Too anxious to deal with anything but removing the tumour, they’d shaved the part of my head where they’d operated and removed a piece of my skull before, apparently, gluing it back in again, but left my hair long everywhere else. I prefer the military haircut, always have. “I’ll shave it all off,” I tell him. I won’t mind doing that. Who lets their hair grow long anyway? Only rockers and greasy riders with a motorcycle club.
“That’s a shame, but perhaps you can grow it again.”
“Isn’t it time you cut your hair, Cas?” I’d prefer him clean-cut with a short back and sides.
He gives me a look I don’t think a son should give his father. It’s certainly not one of respect. “My hair, my choice. I’ll do what I want, Dad.”
“Cas,” I growl, warningly.
“Dad?” he challenges back.
“You’re doing well, the nurses say.” Vanna’s cheerful voice cuts through the growing animosity in the room. “The plan is you’re still coming home tomorrow.”
I realise she’s always been there as a buffer between us, and this is the first time I’ve been alone with my kid. It hadn’t been a good experience. Kid seems to need a strong hand, Vanna’s clearly let him run wild. He’s got to learn how to respect his elders.
What was I like at his age? Grateful for everything I got as I recall. Left to go hungry and neglected too often. I’d learned to be quiet and invisible in most of the foster homes I’d been in. Kept my head down for my own safety and never rocked the boat.
It was how I’d coped when I went into the Marines, appreciating the structure and routine, and obeying orders without question. Perhaps it would do Cas good to join up when he’s eighteen?
And be like me? Invalided out and no good to anyone at the age of twenty-four? Is that really what I want for him?
I was unlucky.
I was lucky not to end up dead.
Maybe Vanna would have preferred that? After a period of mourning, she could have found someone else. That thought makes me growl. I might not be certain I want her, but I wouldn’t want her to be with anyone else.
Vanna’s eyes snap to mine. “You okay, Liz? Your head hurting?”
“When isn’t it?” I bite back, but without bitterness. It’s the cost of me living through what I had, and the doctors say the headaches should improve as the swelling goes down in my head.
“You ever play Assassin’s Creed, Dad?”
I take it as the olive branch it probably is. Cas trying to forge some connection with me. “That’s the new game, not long been out.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ve got latest version. I bought it with my Christmas money. I love the free roaming.”
Free roaming? What crap is this? Another sign the world has moved on, leaving me in its wake. Fucking hell, I can’t even connect with my son over a game, we don’t speak the same language.
I glare at Vanna. “Isn’t that for over eighteen?”
Cas rolls his eyes. “Everyone plays it, Dad.”
“He’s right,” Vanna says, her eyes meeting mine.
“He should be playing Super Mario.” The first game I can think of comes into my mind.
Cas’s look of disdain makes me annoyed.
“Cas, can you go get me a coffee?” Vanna reaches into her purse and extracts some bills from her wallet.
“Sure. You want anything, Dad?”
I want an obedient kid, and a mom who buys suitable games for him, but all I answer is, “No.”
When he leaves the room, I turn on Vanna. “There’s a reason for age limits on those games. They’re too violent.”
“I’d rather he was playing that then out on the streets,” she snaps back. “I manage the time he’s playing, try to make sure he gets his homework done. It’s a compromise bringing up a teenager, Liz. Look, I won’t say I’ve not made mistakes,” a look of pain comes over her face, “but I’ve tried to bring him up right.”
I’ve hurt her by my accusations. When I reach out my hand, she takes it. “You’ll have me with you to share the load from now on, Evangeline. You won’t be alone any longer.”
I’d hoped, expected, to see a look of relief, but instead, the lines on her forehead increase.
Her expression pulls me up. She’s built a life revolving around her and the kid. I start worrying there’s no room for me in it. Maybe too much water has gone under the bridge? Maybe we’re too different to pick up where we left off?
Her face softens at my frown. “Lizard, Cas could really do with a father in his life, but it’s been the two of us for so long, it’s not going to be easy. Don’t be too hard on him, he’ll just rebel. Get to know him before you start laying the law down, okay?”
I appreciate what she’s saying, and it hits me that there’s stuff I’ve not been told. From what I’ve seen though, the kid needs to learn respect, and who better to show him how to behave than the man who gave him life?
Cas comes back with Vanna’s coffee, but she barely has time to drink it before the physio appears to take me through my torture regime. Not wanting her to see what a failure of a husband she has now, I send both of them away so I can be put through hell in private.
By the time he’s finished with me, I’m a wreck. Squeeze the ball with your hand, he said. Sounded quite simple, but the effort to get my muscles to send the right signals to my fingers made my arm and head hurt. As for walking on crutches, that wasn’t too bad, but I wasn’t going to be released until I proved I could manage stairs.
I was d
etermined to do it. Bad foot down, good foot up. Or, as he’d put it, down to hell and up to heaven so I wouldn’t forget. But that shit was hard. It wasn’t going to beat me, though, I want out of this place.
There I was wondering whether Vanna as she is now is the woman I really want as my wife when it looks like I could be getting the better part of the bargain. What’s she getting? A thirty-eight-year-old man who can’t walk unaided.
The last thing I want is a wife who has to be my nurse.
The physio eventually takes pity on me. “Enough for today.”
“Again,” I tell him, determined to make this work. What kind of husband and father would I be if I didn’t make strides in my recovery?
At last, back in my room, I ask him to be honest. I swallow, hoping to hear the right answer.
“Will I ever be able to use my hand and leg properly, eventually?”
He pauses, checks my notes, then looks at me. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s simply impossible to tell. You’ve still got swelling on the brain which is the reason you’re having difficulty with certain things. It could be worse, sometimes after the removal of a tumour, speech is affected, and it’s also fairly common for people to have to learn how to swallow again. It all depends on the area where the tumour was, and how the brain was affected when it was removed. As the swelling goes down, you’ll recover gradually. There’s already a lot of progress you’ve made. You might make a full recovery, or you could be left with some residual weakness on that side.”
“You’re not much comfort.” I try to keep the whine out of my voice, but it’s hard.
“You asked me for honesty. I can’t give guarantees either way. But staying positive, keeping up with your exercises will help.”
“I need my records transferred so I can continue therapy.”
Devil's Spawn: Satan's Devils MC Colorado Chapter #6 Page 26