by N. S. Moore
“Yeah, great. Like that fucking means anything to me,” I snapped. “So she doesn’t even know who she is?”
“She knows who she is. She remembers farther back in the past. But the last few years are blank for her. It happens sometimes. Trauma or impact can cause gaps in our memories, and they take different forms. This isn’t common, but it does happen sometimes.”
“So what are you going to do? How do you get her memory back?”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple. You can’t make someone regain their memory.”
“So what is she supposed to do?” Shit. This was not good. I wanted to shake this guy and demand that he make Jenna better, but even I knew I’d come off as some sort of crazy bastard.
“When we release her tomorrow, she’ll need someone to stay with her.”
“Done,” I said with a nod. There was no way I was calling George Bishop, but I knew without a doubt that I’d do what I could to make sure she was taken care of. I couldn’t quite say I was doing it because I was being a gentleman. Fuck no. For some reason I was still a bit possessive of Jenna.
Something I’d have to think about.
Tonight.
Probably while I’m alone and doing my best to not think about how beautiful she looked tonight and how good her body had felt against mine when I pinned her against the car. Shit. My cock was getting hard just thinking about it, and I had a feeling I’d have to deal with that too when I got home.
“So,” I said, forcing myself to stop thinking about Jenna and her body pressed against mine, “when will she get her memory back?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to say. She could wake up tomorrow and have it back or it could be longer.”
“That’s it? That’s what you learned in medical school? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Mr. Watson, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t…”
“Didn’t what? Curse?”
“Well,” he gulped and moved a bit away from me, “yes. I understand that you’re upset but there’s no reason to take it out on me.”
Hell, I had to take it out on somebody. The cops charged the kid with running the stop sign and whatever else for hitting Jenna’s car, so there was nothing I could do there. No matter how much I wanted to beat the little shit up. Then there was Jenna. Seeing her tonight shouldn’t have been a big deal, but it was. And not just because of the accident.
I knew we’d see each other again—hell, tonight I had even planned it. I needed to see her so I could prove to myself that I was over it. Over her. I had proved that I was the better person—that I wasn’t trash—and the shocked look on her face when she first saw me gave me some vindication.
Yeah, how the mighty had fallen. Now I was the one with the money. The power. Fuck George Bishop. It gave me a bit of a thrill every time I pictured the man working some menial job because he had lost everything.
Karma. Go figure.
“Can I see her?” I asked, not wanting to think about George Bishop anymore for the moment.
“Just for a few minutes. They’re getting ready to move her to a room.”
“Can I take her home tonight?” The words were out before I could even process them and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t take them back.
“She really needs to be here tonight. Just to be sure that there are no other issues.”
I nodded. “I understand.” And mentally thanked god for dodging that bullet.
He motioned for me to go into the exam room where Jenna was. “It’s important that she not be upset,” he said as I began to walk away. “She’s had a traumatic event, and she’s scared right now because she can’t remember things.”
Even though I knew this guy had no idea of mine and Jenna’s history, in that moment it seemed like he did. All I did was nod and walk away. At the door, I took a deep breath and knocked lightly before I opened it.
She looked small. Fragile. Much like the girl I remembered. “Hey,” I said quietly and watched as her face broke into a serene smile. Quite the difference from the shock and disdain she’d shown earlier. “How are you feeling?” I kept my voice soft and my eyes on her as I walked into the room.
“My head hurts a lot,” she said. “And I’m sore all over but other than that…” Her voice trailed off.
“Jenna?” I prompted. Tears filled her blue eyes, and in that instant I forgot my anger, my hatred, and all I felt was the need to comfort.
“I…I can’t remember what happened. I mean, I can guess that I was in an accident, but I don’t know how or where.”
“What do you remember?”
She sat quietly for a minute.
“Do you know what the date is? Where you live? Where you work?”
Her eyes scanned my face. “I…I live at home. With my father.” She paused and I knew my face must have given something away. “Am I right?”
Solemnly, I shook my head. “I don’t want you to think about any of that tonight. For now, just get some rest, and I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
“But…my father. Can you call him? Please, Nick. I don’t want him to worry.”
And then I did something I haven’t done in a long time.
I lied.
“Of course I will,” I said, giving her a small smile. “I’ll take care of it.”
I was saved from having to say anything else when a nurse came in to check Jenna’s vitals and to tell her they had a room ready for her.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I said and slipped out the door.
***
It was wrong.
It was immoral.
It made my cock twitch just thinking about it.
Here’s the thing—the lowest point in my life somehow managed to become the greatest thing to ever happen to me. George Bishop thought he had taken away my future, but he was wrong.
He handed it to me on a silver platter.
Fucker.
I had been set up. Framed. And the real kicker was, everyone knew it, and it wasn’t hard to prove it. My court-appointed lawyer—who was fresh out of law school—figured it out. But it was while sitting in court one day that I met Eli London—philanthropist and businessman extraordinaire.
Don’t ask me how. Don’t ask me why. But for some reason, he struck up a conversation with me. He was in the courthouse dealing with a legal matter of his own—suing some major corporation for millions of dollars—but while wandering the halls during a break, he saw me and said he could tell I needed someone to talk to.
Truer words had never been spoken.
Next thing I knew, this man had taken me under his wing. He took me on as an apprentice. I learned about business. About real estate. About finance. Apparently, I’m a natural. Who knew?
Now, I own a nice piece of Texas business. Restaurants. Shopping malls. And a topless bar.
I like being respectable and a little dirty.
My only regret is that I wasn’t the one to take George Bishop down. My hatred for the man is what spurred me on—what made me want to succeed more than anything. The need for revenge was still there, eating away at me.
And now there was Jenna.
Well, if I’m being honest, I’d always had a need to get my revenge on her as well. She had been sweet. Beautiful. Kind. And sexy as hell. When we’d finally had sex I thought I had died and gone to heaven. She was every wet dream come true. And to find out that she had used me? Well, let’s just say I had quite a few revenge fantasies about…
And the opportunity had finally landed itself in my lap.
Jenna had amnesia.
She had no memory of the last three years.
She had no idea that she sold me out to her old man.
A slow smile crossed my face. It was perfect. It would be like killing two birds with one stone. I could bring Jenna home with me and convince her she was still a part of my life. Make the pristine Miss Jenna Bishop part of the dirtier part of my life.
And in doing so, get some long overdue revenge on father and
daughter.
Just the thought of the look on old George’s face when I tell him his daughter’s flashing her tits for strangers…well, it would make everything worth it.
***
What the hell was taking so long?
I figured I’d get back here to the hospital this morning, and they’d release Jenna. Apparently not. The damn doctor ordered another round of tests this morning, so now I was stuck sitting around waiting.
My mind couldn’t help but wander, and that was a dangerous thing right now.
What the fuck was I supposed to do with her once we leave here? I knew I was taking her back to my place—that was a given. I spent most of the night planning out what I was going to do—how I was going to get my revenge. But it was going to take some time. It wasn’t like we were going to pull out of the parking lot and things were going to fall into place. She was still hurt after all.
Fuck.
Can I really do this? Can I really be that much of a heartless bastard—thinking about revenge when Jenna is injured?
Hell yes.
Every time I thought I could walk away and be the bigger person, I remembered the sound of George Bishop’s voice telling me that Jenna had used me. And just like that, the rage was back and I was ready to do whatever I need to make sure she knew what it was like—for her to feel that same sense of shock and humiliation and shame—that I felt three years ago.
Our entire hometown witnessed my humiliation back then, and there would be witnesses now for hers too.
Her defeat would play out in front of an audience, and I’d get to sit back and watch.
And damn if that image didn’t make me hard.
Again.
The only possible flaw to this plan was me. I know that sounds crazy but…it is what it is. I could take her home. I could have her stay with me for a while on the pretense of taking care of her until she was better. But my reaction to her? Well, that was something I was going to have to be careful about. Because no matter how angry I was, not matter how much rage I’d kept inside of me for three years, it just took one look at her and I was ready to pound nails with my cock.
There was no doubt I was gonna want to pound her with very little encouraging.
I couldn’t let that happen. I had to be strong and do my best to keep my distance—pretend like I didn’t know what her skin feels like or how she kisses or how her pussy feels wrapped around me.
Fuck.
This so wasn’t going to be easy.
Unfortunately, I had to keep myself in that dark place—the place where I have nothing but rage for the entire Bishop family. I couldn’t let my guard down. I couldn’t let myself forget.
No matter what.
An hour later, a nurse wheeled Jenna back into the hospital room, and I felt like I’d already lost the battle. One soft, shy smile from her, and my stomach was already in knots.
I was barely listening as the nurse went over instructions for Jenna’s release. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was moving gingerly, and she seemed lost and uncertain of every move she was making.
I wanted to tell the nurse to just fucking leave. We didn’t need her. But for now, she was the only thing stopping me from putting my hands on Jenna.
“She’ll need to see her own doctor in a week for a follow up,” the nurse said. “And you’ll need to wake her up every hour or so for one more night—just to make sure she’s okay after the concussion. After that, she should be out of the woods.” She handed me some forms to sign. “If you have any questions, you can call the nurse-help line here at the hospital.” She handed me a card with the number on it. “Feel better, Jenna,” she said with a smile and a wave before walking out the door.
Jenna stood there in the hospital gown looking around the room.
“What’s wrong?” I asked her.
“I…I need to get dressed. I don’t know where they put my stuff.”
I motioned to the closet and watched her walk over and open the door. She seemed to sag with relief.
“Get dressed. I’ll be back in ten minutes and then we’ll leave, okay?”
She nodded, but still looked nervous.
Then, wanting to make sure she didn’t suspect anything I said, “It’s going to be all right.”
And it would be.
For one of us.
Two
They call it retrograde amnesia, but it feels more like having a hole in your head. Not a tiny pinhole that the sunlight sparks out of when you move it in the right direction, but a huge gaping hole with nothing but tattered edges surrounding it.
That’s what it felt like—like my whole life was nothing but shredded tatters and what filled me up wasn’t me at all but rather whatever happens to be visible behind me.
It’s not a good feeling. It’s like you lose your identity, the largest part of who you really are.
When we finally left the hospital, it was already the afternoon. Nick led me to a big, blue, expensive pick-up truck—definitely not the old truck I remembered he used to have. I was still sore from some of the bruises, but that was just a minor discomfort.
The biggest discomfort was the hole in my mind that I couldn’t seem to fill with anything.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, the streets of Dallas looked vaguely familiar, but I had no context for remembering them. I remembered my small hometown in west Texas perfectly, but there was only an emptiness here. I must have driven these streets before—when I felt like there would be a park coming up, it eventually appeared—but I had no idea when or why I’d been in this neighborhood before.
I tried to exert my mind to search the emptiness, but it hurt too much so I stopped.
“Is anything coming back to you?” Nick asked, glancing sideways to observe me.
He’d been worried at first—when I was going in and out of consciousness last night. I was at least aware of that much. Now, though, I couldn’t read his calm expression. I had no idea what he was thinking.
He was almost like a handsome stranger beside me, even though I knew he wasn’t.
“No,” I said. “It’s all just a blank. Trying to remember just gives me more of a headache.”
“Then don’t try. Just go with it. That’s probably the best idea for now.”
I nodded, eyeing him as he drove. His face looked finely chiseled in the shifting sunlight and shadow. “Where do I even live?”
“In a dorm room on campus.”
“Really. I would have thought Dad would…” I trailed off, feeling a little guilty at my first thought, which was that my father would have paid for a better living situation for me. All my life, at least as much of it as I could remember, he’d always made sure I had the best.
“He lost the business,” Nick said quietly, as if he knew what I’d been about to say. “A few years ago. Money has been tight for you since then.”
My gut clenched strangely at this news. It felt wrong. Weird and sad and wrong. “But I can still afford college?”
“You have a scholarship, and you work two jobs to help with expenses.”
“What jobs?”
“You have a job at a restaurant and…” He trailed off this time, his face twisting strangely.
“What’s my second job?”
“I’ll show you tomorrow.”
“Why can’t you tell me now?”
“It’s complicated. Too much for you to deal with right now. I’ll show you tomorrow.”
His expression was odd—tight and almost conflicted—but I couldn’t imagine why that would be. Maybe my job was miserable. Maybe I hated it. Maybe my life now was a nightmare it was just as well to fade into darkness.
I felt a rising panic at how much I didn’t know, how much had been lost to me, but I breathed deeply, trying to control it.
My memory would return. And, until then, Nick would obviously make sure I was all right.
“You okay?” he asked, softer, his tone almost gentle.
“Yeah. It’s just…kind of sca
ry.”
“I would imagine so. How’s your head?”
“It’s getting better.”
“Good.”
“Are you going to take me to my dorm room?”
Nick shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t trust your roommate to wake you up every hour to make sure you’re okay, the way the doctor said. I better take you home with me, at least for tonight.”
I sighed in relief. I couldn’t stand the thought of being deserted with another virtual stranger. I didn’t even remember what my roommate’s name was. “Okay. Thank you.”
I saw him darting little looks at me, and I felt a sudden surge of attraction for him. I’d had a crush on him all my life—that much I remembered. And he seemed even more than he was in my lingering memories. He was older, more mature, more powerful, more controlled.
Sexier.
Very, very sexy.
“Are we together?” I asked into the silence, feeling my cheeks warming slightly, although it was obviously a question I needed to know.
He shot me a surprised look. “Uh, no. No, we’re not.”
“We’re not dating?”
“No.”
“Oh.” I felt a drop of disappointment. I’d liked the idea of us being a couple. “So why are you helping me this way?”
“We’re…we’re friends. And we kind of work together. I’ll explain all that tomorrow.”
“But we don’t date?”
His dark eyes searched mine strangely, and I saw another flicker of something almost conflicted in his expression. “No. I’m not your type.”
I didn’t know how that could possibly be true. He was definitely my type. He’d always been my type.
It was more likely that I wasn’t his type. I’d always been kind of boring. A good girl through and through.
He probably wanted someone more exciting, someone sexier, someone more adventurous.
For some reason, that idea felt right to me, so I was sure it must be true. I wished I was different. I wished I was someone this man would want for a girlfriend.
I suddenly realized there was a hole in my life, and I could fill it with anything I wanted.
I could be anything.
I could be any kind of girl I wanted to be.