by Ivy Jordan
“I’m sorry,” I uttered.
“It’s okay. I understand. No pressure,” Isaac comforted me with a friendly pat on the shoulder. Damn, now it’s like we’re just old pals, roommates, not lovers at all. I knew I was going to have to get ready soon, otherwise I’d end up losing him, the only one I had in the entire world.
I played with the stereo in the Escalade as we drove to the hospital, finally stopping on a classical music station. It made me happy, at ease, and I suddenly felt a connection with myself. “I like classical music,” I announced cheerfully.
Isaac nodded and smirked in my direction. “I was hoping you’d convert to rock,” he laughed.
“So, you knew I like classical music?” I pushed, slightly irritated he didn’t tell me.
“The doctor said not to push anything on you, to allow you to find your own way,” he stated firmly.
Yes, that is what the doctor said. I wasn’t going to let my irritation take away the fact I’d finally found something out about myself. This was a huge breakthrough.
“This thing is destroying the planet,” I sighed, pushing back into the leather seat. Isaac laughed, loudly and with a strange high pitch. “What?” I questioned, beginning to laugh myself.
“You’re gonna be just fine,” he smiled.
He explained that I was always trying to save the earth and everything on it. It was nice to feel as though my identity was returning, even if I didn’t feel a true connection to it.
Walking into the hospital gave me a sensation of comfort. The path we traveled to get back to the fourth floor was the same one I’d traveled to leave it. Everything was familiar, making me feel safe and secure.
Dr. Morris greeted me with a cheerful smile, his dark eyes filled with hope. “I’ve still not remembered anything,” I groaned, realizing I was crushing his hope.
“Nothing?” he asked, his head tilting like that wasn’t normal at all.
“She’s starting to,” Isaac piped in, reminding me about the classical music, and the comment about his gas guzzling truck.
Dr. Morris seemed pleased with those revelations and began questioning me on my daily routine. It was simple, boring, and didn’t feel like mine at all. I explained the situation as Isaac had explained it to me, that I didn’t live here, that I’d given up my career as a yoga instructor, and that I didn’t have anything to trigger my memory. “Maybe you two should take a trip to Portland,” he suggested.
I liked that suggestion. I wanted to be around my belongings and my life. This didn’t sound like it was mine, so how could it ever trigger a memory?
Isaac seemed distraught. “I’ll work on making that happen,” he said, but he didn’t seem too convincing.
Dr. Morris assured me everything was normal at this rate, that it was still early. The accident had left damage to my brain, but nothing that wasn’t repairable with time and avoidance of stress. Stress? Yeah, that’s all I feel anymore; well, that and guilt.
“So, have you thought about trying yoga to jog your memory?” the doctor asked.
“I have, but it just didn’t seem like it was my thing. I struggled with some of the moves, to be honest,” I admitted, feeling as though that was a sign of weakness that my body forgot what it had been trained to do so well before. Maybe I wasn’t that good as an instructor.
“You obviously exercise. Try going to the gym; maybe the environment will help,” the doctor suggested.
I watched Isaac’s eyes shift as he spoke. There was something strange about how he was acting, almost as if he didn’t want me to remember.
“There is a gym not far from Isaac’s house,” I noted, unable to call it my house or ours, because it wasn’t.
“There ya go,” he said with a smile.
Isaac had stayed home from work the first couple days, but for the last few he’d been leaving to go to the office. He was never gone long, but it did give me time to possibly head to the gym and do something on my own. I agreed with the doctor, felt relief that my memory not returning wasn’t a sign of permanent damage, and felt hopeful that I’d get back to Portland to possibly find something familiar.
Chapter Five
Isaac
The rain beat against the back window with a forceful intent as I watched Maddie butter her toast. “No jelly?” I asked.
Her head tilted, as if I asked her something complex, and then a soft sigh escaped her lips. “I don’t think I like jelly,” she said.
I chuckled, shaking my head gently. “Good. Things are starting to work themselves out,” I acknowledged.
The last week, lots of things were becoming clearer to Maddie, and it scared me to death. I didn’t want to lose her, but I knew once she found out the truth, she’d leave, probably hating me for the rest of her life.
“I really wish it would quit raining,” she whined, staring out at the wild ocean. I was glad it was raining, glad that she couldn’t walk to the gym and become more acquainted with her old life. The doctor’s suggestion had triggered something in Maddie, something I knew was from her old life. She loved being in the gym, telling me the smell, the noise, it all made her feel like she belonged. That was the life I wanted her to forget, the one that would only bring her more pain. Her life here, with me, that was the one I wanted to work on, the only one that mattered. I loved her, and soon, she’d love me. I needed more time.
“It should be nice tomorrow,” I smiled, secretly hoping that it would storm for the next three months.
Her hips drew me in as she stretched up to reach the cinnamon from the cabinet’s top shelf. That ass; fuck, it was tight and hard, and I wanted desperately to press my cock up against its warmth. She turned and her cheeks reddened, as if she knew what I was thinking. I suddenly felt a twinge of guilt roll through my veins, and worked to stop the blood flow to my cock before it was too late.
“I’ll just work out here,” she said contently.
Her smile paralyzed me, frozen in its presence. Damn, I loved that smile. I’d loved it from the moment I first saw it.
“I’ll only be at the office for a few hours,” I promised, quickly finishing off the coffee left in my mug.
There was awkwardness between us for a moment, one that screamed sexual tension. My cock twitched against my jeans as I watched her slouch against the counter, the small of her back resting above the drawer. I could just grip that tiny waist, lift her to the counter and settle into her warmth. My mouth watered as I imagined her taste, her flavor, her scent. I want her bad.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, her voice cracking a bit as she spoke.
Was she feeling it too? Did she want me to rush across the kitchen and take her, finally make her mine?
My eyes lingered on her breasts, small and perky. They were pressed up against her tank top, no bra underneath. My lips tingled at the thought of pressing around her tight nipples, sucking, pulling, and teasing with my mouth and tongue. Oh yes, Maddie Stewart was a beautiful woman, sexy, vibrant, and I had to do whatever it took to keep her from harm, even if that meant risking losing her for good.
She turned nervously, rinsing a cup under the faucet. I didn’t want to make her nervous, so I tucked in my lust and mumbled a quick goodbye. It was becoming harder and harder to steer clear of her sexy little body.
I left the house in a slight daze, still lacking the adequate amount of blood to my brain. I jumped into the driver’s seat of the Escalade and started my way to the office. It was close enough to walk, but with the storm, I decided to drive instead. The rain might’ve done me some good, cooled me down from the heat boiling in my crotch.
“Good morning,” Beth greeted me as I entered the office. She was tall, lean, and extremely smart. She was the kind of woman that men dreamt about but feared to approach. “You’ve had a phone ringing in your safe all morning,” she informed as she smiled, obviously waiting for an explanation.
“Shit, I forgot about that,” I gasped, quickly rushing to my office.
Beth was my assistant, a perso
n I told everything to, but I couldn’t explain this, so I didn’t even try.
I opened the safe, pulled out the phone that belonged to Maddie, and closed my door. The phone was damaged to the point I didn’t think it could be salvaged. I’d worked all week, spending every second of my spare time on reading how to repair it, ordering parts, and finally getting it put back together. I’d inserted the battery the night before, placed it in the safe and left. I wasn’t sure if it would ever work again, but right now, I was delighted to see it was.
The phone was blinking, so I opened it, noticing she had several missed calls from Rob Fallon. I opened up her messages and found their conversations. I found where he’d left her several texts over the last couple weeks, and the missed calls were countless. He was desperate to find her, to get her back. I wasn’t going to let that happen.
He never was going to harm her again. She had told me all about this abusive asshole. I was worried she would go back to him if she couldn’t remember everything he had done to her.
I still couldn’t believe she was wearing the engagement ring she got from him when she arrived in Miami. I thought she had finally ended it.
My heart ached as I scrolled through the texts between Rob and Maddie. She told him she loved him, how happy she was that she found him, and then the tone changed. She told him to leave her alone, that she couldn’t live with his abuse any longer, and that she was starting a new life, somewhere far away. He obviously didn’t get the message clearly, or he was just that pushy, but his pleas for her to talk, to come back, and to give him a second chance were relentless.
So she had ended it.
This was enough proof to show her he was abusive if she ever thought about going back to him.
I knew he’d given her that ringtone, and I couldn’t fathom why she hadn’t taken it off when she arrived in Miami. Does she still love him?
The phone rang again, startling me. It was him. Fuck!
Beth walked towards my office, and I knew she was ready for an explanation. I didn’t have one. I slid my finger to the ignore button and quieted the phone as she entered my office. “What’s going on?” she asked.
“It’s a friend’s project. She asked me to fix the phone her husband broke when she found it, hoping I could find out what he was using it for,” I lied.
She seemed satisfied. I’d taken on jobs for friends before, ones that she wasn’t a part of, but never ones that I’d kept so secret.
“You’ve been acting a little strange lately. You sure you’re okay?” she asked.
“Oh yeah, I’m great. I’ve just had a lot going on at home, projects I needed to finish,” I rambled.
I knew she wasn’t buying it. She knew me better than that. We worked together every day, sometimes at night, and spending that much time with someone, you learn their behaviors. Mine was off, and she knew it. Soon enough, she’d find out why.
“I’ve gotta head downtown to the courthouse; you play here while I’m gone?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said quickly, finding it a little offensive she felt the need to babysit me.
Beth gave me a look, one that said she knew something was going on, something more than just a friend’s project, and projects around my house.
She finally left, leaving me to deal with the phone that wouldn’t stop ringing. I had it on silent, but it buzzed across my desk as I looked up any dirt I could find on Rob.
Everything I found was flattering, nothing that suggested he was the monster I knew him to be. He was tall with dark features, and a smile that looked like a soap opera star’s. His Facebook page was filled with charity fundraiser events, over a thousand friends, and pictures of him and Maddie. They looked happy. She looked happy.
The phone continued to buzz, bouncing across my antique desk like it was trying to escape. I reached for it as it neared the edge, accidentally sliding to answer. “Maddie, are you there?” a voice spoke through the small receiver.
“Are you okay? Please answer me,” it continued to plead.
I pulled the phone to my ear and took a deep breath. “You need to leave her alone,” I said firmly.
“Who is this? What have you done with Maddie?” the voice demanded.
“Maddie is fine. She doesn’t want to see you again so lose this number,” I ordered.
“She can tell me that herself,” he argued.
“She already has. I know what you did to her,” I snarled.
“No, you got it all wrong. We were fighting; she turned to leave and fell. I never laid a hand on her,” the man explained.
Likely story. I’d heard plenty of abusers tell the same tale. They were always innocent, and most of the time, they knew their women would return to them, tails tucked between their legs and ready to believe they didn’t mean it, or it would never happen again. Not Maddie. She made her way to Miami, to me, and that’s where she was going to stay.
“Where is she, and who is this?” the man still demanded to know. “We love each other; she would never just leave like this. I’ll find her, and I’ll find you,” the man threatened.
“She never wants to see you again, so move on and quit calling or I’ll have a harassment charge slapped on your ass so fast your head will spin,” I growled, ending the conversation.
There’s no way he’ll ever find her, or me. He’ll give up eventually, even though he threatened not to. I knew his type.
Chapter Six
Maddie
Sweat began to bead on my forehead as my legs twisted in the sheets. I struggled to wake myself from what I hoped was only a nightmare, not a memory. The room I stood in felt familiar, white curtains blowing in the wind from the open window, a tall lamp next to a four-post bed with antique carvings on the headboard, and the music box I had from my suitcase of various items on the nightstand. It was my room. I was certain of it.
Muffled noises blasted into my ears, like someone yelling, angry. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, and when they came into view, I couldn’t make out their face. Who was this, and why were they so angry with me?
Tears fell down my face as I kicked into the sheets I’d tangled around my feet. I couldn’t wake up, and something in my gut told me things were going to get worse if I didn’t, like I knew what would come next, and I didn’t want to know.
Slap, a hand across my face. I dropped to my knees, my hands covering my heated cheek. The man, I was still unable to make out his face, was now on me, his hand around my neck, pulling me back to my feet.
His words were slurred in an angry fury, and his face so blurry it was unrecognizable. Who is this man? Why is he hurting me?
My heart ached as I cried out into the room, trying to pull myself from this dream, this nightmare, this memory. No, this couldn’t be real, there was no way that Isaac would allow this to happen to me.
The hand on my throat was strong, cutting off my air with what felt like no remorse. Suddenly it released, and as I coughed to catch my breath, bam, a fist slammed into my face, pushing me into the wall.
I slid down the wall, staring at the music box on my nightstand. Yes, this was my room; this was a memory.
My body jolted out of the dream as I let out a loud scream. I thought it was only in my dream, but as I snapped back to reality, to alertness, my voice echoed against the walls of Isaac’s guestroom.
The door flung open, startling me. Isaac stood in the doorway, the glow of the hallway light surrounding him like he was an angel. “Are you okay?” he asked, rushing to my side. He sat on the bed, his arms around me, and let me sob against his chest. “You had a bad dream. That’s all,” he assured me. I wasn’t so sure.
“It was so real. I was in my room. I know that was my room, the music box was there.” I rattled off the details of the dream. “What did my room look like in Portland?” I asked, hoping he could reassure me that it was my room, that I did have a memory.
“I don’t know,” he said softly. Why didn’t he know? We were engaged, known each other since gr
ade school, so how did he not know what my bedroom looked like? “You said you redecorated it, and I hadn’t been there since,” he added. “What got you so upset, and why were you screaming?” he questioned.
I took a deep breath and told him about the scary man, the one who was attacking me. “It was so real. I remember feeling such heartbreak that I could barely breathe,” I explained. “Was I attacked?” I queried.
Isaac pulled me close, rubbing my hair with the flat of his hand. “I think your memory is just making things difficult for you. You’ve been so frustrated, and it must be translating to your dreams,” he explained.
Maybe he was right. But, it felt so real.
He started to loosen his embrace, but I quickly tightened mine, refusing to let him go. I felt safe in his arms. It felt natural, familiar somehow. “You want me to stay with you until you fall back asleep?” he offered.
“Yes,” I whispered, and slid from his arms back into the warmth of the blankets.
Isaac slid in next to me, pulling me into his chest. He was warm, strong, and smelled of lavender and musk. The aroma was stirring a strange emotion from deep within my soul. It was familiar. That scent, it was the scent of the man I loved. “I remember your scent,” I whispered, staring up into his deep green eyes. Our lips were so close, they nearly touched as I spoke.
The look in his eyes comforted me, made me yearn for this closeness to never end. I stretched up, letting my lips press against his. He hesitated at first, I could sense his resistance, but I knew he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.
His breath was soft and shallow as his eyes closed and his lips gave into mine. They were soft, sensual, and tasted like vanilla from his nightly bowl of ice cream. Sweet flavors tempted my tongue, causing it to reach out, sliding slowly across his lips until they parted.
Our kiss exploded with a sweet taste, sending excitement between my legs and through my breasts. Isaac’s hands shook a bit as they released our embrace and trailed down my back. They steadied quickly as they pulled me into his warm body. The muscles in his arms flexed against me as his cock—hard, eager, and ready to play—positioned itself against my clit.