His hand stilled. I readied myself for his lame excuse when he finally looked my way. “How else am I supposed to pay the bills if I don’t have them?”
“Why are you paying my bills?”
He yanked the mail from the box near the door and came inside. “Do you think you’ve been capable of doing anything lately?”
“How did you get access to my bank account? I do have a checking account, don’t I?”
Brighton closed the door behind him. He frowned at Hadley as he passed her and continued into the living room. “Yes, Jo. You have a checking account, but I’m not using your money. I’ve been paying for everything with my account.”
I started to ask how, but remembered the trust funds our parents left us.
Stepping around Paxton, I lowered myself to the couch and sunk within the cushions. “You don’t have to do it anymore, Brighton. I can take care of things.”
“I don’t mind. It’s one less thing you have to focus on. Devote your energy to getting your memories back. Let me take care of the rest.”
It was times like this when Brighton seemed genuine in his effort to help me. Yet I feared he was taking on too much. If doing this was stressing him to the point that he turned into a bossy jerk, I didn’t want him doing anything for me.
“How much does she remember?” Paxton asked
I gazed at Paxton, who was looking in Brighton’s direction. The tension in the room doubled once my brother acknowledged him. “She remembers most of our childhood and teen years, but nothing in the last six years.”
“Damn,” Paxton mumbled. He raked his hand through his dark hair and peered at me. “Well, maybe I can change that.”
“So I guess this means you came into my life within the last six years.”
His eyes flashed to Brighton again before he nodded and joined me on the couch. “Yeah, you could say we’ve known each other for a while.”
As he eased back into the cushions, I studied his face, willing my mind to evoke even the smallest memory of him. My past was staring me in the face, but it was like staring into a reflectionless mirror. I saw nothing.
“What are we to each other? Are we friends?”
Paxton grew quiet as he rubbed his hands over his jeans. Then he looked at Brighton again, as if he was seeking my brother’s approval to answer. The shock of seeing Brighton nod left me speechless.
“We’re friends, Jo. I’ve known you as long as I’ve known your brother.”
“Then why is there so much hostility between the two of you?”
“Don’t answer that.” Brighton demanded in a firm tone, but Paxton didn’t seem intimidated. In fact, he chuckled.
“Why not tell her? Don’t you want her to know what a horrible person I am?”
“No. I’d rather she remember.”
Damn them both. They made my anger resurface. I did my best to temper it, including massaging my temples. “Unless he’s responsible for me losing my memories, there’s nothing that will convince me he’s a bad person. Everyone makes mistakes.”
Brighton glared at me. He opened his mouth with what I was sure would be a sarcastic retort, but his focus shifted to Paxton. When I looked at my friend, I understood why Brighton didn’t finish.
Pax had leaned forward. His elbows rested on his knees and he’d planted his face in his hands. I watched him shake his head slowly as his shoulders rose and fell.
“God,” he whispered. “This is my fault.”
“Pax. Stop.” Brighton growled the warning before I could react.
“It’s true. I didn’t mean for any of this—”
Brighton swept across the living room with long strides. He reached the couch just as Paxton stood. “I’m not going to tell you this again. Shut up. You’re saying too much.”
“I’m not going to say more than I have. God dammit, Brighton, how long are you going to hate me? I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t bring Jo’s memories back, does it?”
“No, but neither has locking her up in this house.”
I listened to them trade barbs at my benefit. I wanted to tell them to stop, but all I could think about was Paxton’s words. Was he responsible for what happened to me?
“I haven’t locked up Jo. She’s free to come and go. For Christ’s sake, if I’d locked her up, do you think you’d be in this house?”
“Will you two quit talking about me like I’m not here?” I jumped to my feet, but the room spun. The couch recaptured me. Paxton sat beside me as Brighton kneeled by my legs.
They both asked me if I was okay, but I couldn’t answer. The flashes had returned. As the room and everyone in it began to fade, I found myself standing in a place I didn’t recognize. The drab gray walls and high ceilings resembled the back hallway of a building. Everything around me echoed.
The images played on, as if I were watching a movie. I noticed two people in the distance. They were facing each other, but their movements were erratic and tense. The closer I crept toward them, the more I realized they were having an argument. Their faces remained a blur.
My heartbeat raced. I wasn’t sure what I was walking into, but I couldn’t turn back. Everything in me told me to push forward. Doing so was a challenge when what I really wanted was to close my eyes and escape.
The people in front of me continued arguing. They used their hands to help emphasize what they were saying. By the time I was a few feet from where they stood, one pushed the other away. Then the blurriness blocking my vision cleared, and I saw Brighton standing over Pax.
My mind filled with confusion as the image faded. Brighton came into view. So did Paxton. They were both saying my name, taking turns shaking me. Hadley had joined them. She sat on the side opposite of Paxton, stethoscope and blood pressure cuff in hand. I sat silently as she wrapped it around my arm and placed the cool metal at the bend of my elbow.
The tighter the cuff grew, the louder my heart pounded in my ears. I didn’t understand what my mind had just revealed to me, but I knew it was part of the reason Brighton and Paxton were ready to tear each other apart. They’d already tried to accomplish as much.
“Jo, answer me! Please.” Brighton’s voice was the first I heard, followed by Hadley’s.
“Her blood pressure is up. Damn it, Brighton, I told you to watch what you said. She doesn’t need this type of stress.”
As they argued even further, I concentrated on the warmth engulfing my injured hand. The heat soothed the pulsing sensation in my fingertips. I tilted my head and glanced at my palm. It was tucked inside Paxton’s hand as he ran his fingers over the backside.
I forced myself to look higher, to his face. He observed Hadley and Brighton arguing, much like I had. Then he shifted his attention to me. Breaking his hand free of mine, he reached up and caressed my cheek. His eyes pleaded with me to be okay, to get better, to forgive him…
Then it happened. The moment I curled my fingers around his wrist, a memory of him came flooding through. It wasn’t just any memory. It was colossal.
Paxton’s lips were sweeping over mine.
~ CHAPTER TWELVE ~
It didn’t take long for Brighton to suggest Paxton leave. I was too weak to argue with him. The flashback had drained my energy. By the time I felt strong enough to put up a fight with my brother, he and Paxton were gone. Hadley had seen to their departure right after she reprimanded them.
“Damn it.”
I grumbled the words when her footsteps faded from my ears. Not that she heard me since she’d closed my bedroom door on her way out. No matter how much I disliked what had happened, my anger wasn’t with Hadley. It was with Fate. The second things turned in my favor, it never failed for something to come along and reverse the wheel of fortune. I was back to where I’d started. Answerless.
The flashbacks had been my luck’s reversal. I didn’t like having such strong reactions to certain memories. If my suspicions were true, then these reactions were another reason why no one would tell me what happened to
cause my amnesia.
Once I knew Hadley was out of hearing range, I left the bed and approached the French doors. If she caught me out of bed, she’d be pissed. She didn’t like when I ignored her instructions. Though my blood pressure was back to normal, the fact it rose so high had her taking precautions. She wanted me to lie down and rest.
I wanted to know more about Paxton.
As I opened the doors, images filled my head, the ones of his lips gliding over mine. For a brief moment, I’d entertained the thought as a fantasy. There was something about him that drew me further in, yet I knew this wasn’t some daydream. It was a memory.
Still, it went against what he said. We were friends, not involved. Even if we were involved, neither he nor Brighton would admit to the truth. It would be considered too influential, too damaging to my mind. They would want me to remember.
Try as I may, no other thoughts came to me. I’d strained enough that the dull pulse inside my head grew into steady throbbing. Maybe the truth behind our relationship was more than my mind wanted to handle at this point in time.
I hadn’t forgotten what Brighton insinuated. How if I remembered Paxton, I wouldn’t want him around. This came from a former junkie of course, but Brighton’s comments weren’t the only thing I remembered. Paxton’s words haunted me—the ones about it being his fault.
Why would he feel like he was responsible for what happened to me? I didn’t feel the same. I refused to. Believing what he said meant I couldn’t trust my instincts. I wasn’t ready to accept that, not when I needed them more than ever.
Besides, the flashback had Brighton standing over Paxton after their scuffle. I didn’t remember what started their argument but vaguely recalled them having one.
When Paxton apologized to Brighton, my suspicion of his involvement decreased. He couldn’t be responsible for what happened to me. Not directly.
Though I had a feeling he was taking fault for something he shouldn’t, there was still the question of whether he’d done something that caused an accident. And accidents were just that. They weren’t deliberate. Perhaps Brighton was just being an overprotective brother who was angry with Pax for something he didn’t mean to do.
I wished Paxton were still here. It hurt me to know that he left here in pain. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted to help me. I wished he could tell me the answers to my questions. This whole theory of us being friends didn’t jive. There was more to it. He wouldn’t kiss a friend the way he’d kissed me. It wasn’t just the flashback that convinced me as much. It was the way my body tingled when I thought of his lips pressed to mine.
I shivered. Between the images rolling through my mind and the lukewarm air drifting through the doors, I couldn’t prevent my skin from prickling. The weather was mild today, but the backs of my arms were chilled. It was nothing a sweater couldn’t fix.
I moved toward the closet and slipped inside. Each article of clothing hung in a line as long as the closet itself. Most of the shirts were separated by sleeve length.
Midway back, I found a tan sweater and grabbed it off a hanger. As I pushed my arms through each sleeve, I couldn’t shake the thought of Paxton and what his presence might mean for my recovery.
Having him around could trigger more of these severe flashbacks. But at this point, I didn’t care. If I had to die in order to regain my memories, I’d do just that. It beat the alternative of slowly going insane. If I didn’t remember my past, that’s exactly what would happen.
Anxiety built inside me to see Paxton. I didn’t want him to leave, but at least he promised to come by later if he could. If not, he’d definitely be back the following day. It was enough to satisfy my need to have him around.
Leaving the closet behind, I moved back into the bedroom and stared at my bed. My guitar rested in the stand Brighton gave me a few days prior. I didn’t want to accept the gift, especially with him being in the number one spot on my shit list, but the guitar needed the stand.
While part of me wanted to pick up the guitar and work out my frustration, I knew Hadley would hear me and demand I put it down for sleep. She was as stubborn as I was, and I knew she’d sit at the edge of my bed until I did as she asked.
Still, I approached the guitar.
I eased onto my mattress, trailing over the rosewood with keen eyes. The urge to touch it increased. I didn’t resist. My fingers slid over the body, closer to the strings. Then I hesitated.
My chest grew heavy. For the first time in weeks, it wasn’t over the sad state of my affairs. It was from admiration. I never thought another instrument would be as elegant as my piano, but the guitar proved to be its equal. The song I’d started over a week ago played in my head. I had to finish it. Soon. Really soon.
Or even now…
I stroked the strings, plucking one before my hand froze. God, I wanted to pick up the guitar and pour my heart and soul into it. But Hadley…
Drawing my hand away, my lashes fluttered closed. I needed to rest. I needed to go to sleep and never wake up. Why should I? My will to keep going was dwindling. I was trapped inside one giant lie everyone referred to as my life. Nothing would ever be the same.
“It calls to you, doesn’t it?”
Adam… He was right on cue, as usual.
The ache within me waned and my lips spread wider. “Yes. It speaks in a language only my heart understands.”
“Then we must share the same heart because it speaks to mine as well.”
My imaginary man’s words hit a nerve. Despite discovering Paxton or the attraction I felt toward him, Adam still moved me in a way no one else had. I guess my subconscious knew what I wanted more than anything. If he were real, Paxton would be but a memory.
I turned toward the French doors, where Adam’s voice came from, and opened my eyes. My heart felt like it could explode when he came into view. He stood against the doorframe, hands behind him, tucked into the back pockets of his jeans.
The weight of his body rested on his shoulders and heels. His steel blue flannel hugged his arms and the muscles within. Part of me wanted those arms around me. I imagined how they would feel, but nothing would be as good as the real thing.
I trembled when he stared at me. The last of the air in my lungs expelled. Every part of me was frozen under his gaze. When he strolled closer, I drew in a deep breath.
“It’s always good to see you, Adam.”
“Is it?”
I nodded. “Of course. I find myself looking forward to these occasions when my mind summons you.”
He stopped at the corner of the bed and gripped the post. “You’re still convinced I’m not real?”
“I’m afraid so, though after today, I believe I have a better understanding of why I see you.”
His forehead wrinkled as his brows rose. After being close to Paxton earlier, I noticed the areas where he and Adam favored most. Their physical build, the shape of their eyes, and their mouths…God, they both had amazing lips.
“Enlighten me, princess.” The husky tone of his voice made my belly flutter. I wanted to run to him, wrap my arms around his chest, and beg him to erase the pain inside me. Instead, I stood there, quivering.
“I met someone today, someone from my past. I still don’t remember everything about him, but I think…” What exactly did I think? My head and my heart weren’t coming to an agreement on this. Both seemed to want something different. “I think I met the man in my life.”
“The man in your life?” Confusion covered Adam’s face. His throat wobbled when he swallowed. “Who might that be?”
“Um…”
My voice faded. Why did I dread telling him? Maybe because part of me feared that if I admitted Paxton could be my significant other, my subconscious would accept it and Adam would vanish. I didn’t like the thought of never seeing him again. Regardless of how much he and Paxton favored, they weren’t the same man. Only one was real.
“His name is Paxton. Paxton Carr.” I said the words as fast as I could. I was
n’t sure if he heard me at first, but the frown forming on his face proved he had.
“Paxton Carr?”
I nodded. “Believe it or not, he kinda reminds me of you.”
Adam clenched his jaw. His cheek flinched twice before he looked away. “But he isn’t me, is he?”
The tone of his voice made my stomach roll. It hadn’t hurt this bad in weeks. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were upset with me.”
He still didn’t return my gaze. Fine. If he wouldn’t acknowledge me, I’d give him no other choice. As quick as my feet would carry me, I worked my way around the bed to the corner where he was standing. He glared out the doors the entire time, not moving an inch. Yet when I was less than a foot from him, he stepped away.
“What is your problem, Adam?”
“I’m not really sure what you mean.”
“You were all smiles when you got here. Hell, you were even poetic. Now you’re acting like you’d rather be somewhere else. Why?”
He surveyed the room, doing everything he could to avoid looking at me. It convinced me more than ever that I was right. He was distressed.
“I’m not upset with you, Josie.”
I parted my lips, ready to accuse him of lying when it dawned on me what he’d said. “Josie…? No one’s called me that since my grandfather died. It was his nickname for me. He’s the only person who ever used it.”
“Is he?”
“Yes.”
My eyes burned. I blinked away the moisture forming within them and cast them to the floor. Thinking about my grandpa brought back many happy memories, and one horrific one…his indirect involvement in my parents’ death. It was bizarre knowing they were on their way to his funeral when they were involved in the accident that claimed their lives.
Tears trickled down my face. Why was I putting myself through this? Adam wasn’t real. I didn’t have to stand here and subject myself to this. I didn’t have to do anything but give in to the despair eating away at my soul.
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