Wanting to Remember, Trying to Forget (Meet the Shepards #1)

by Jacqueline Francis

  He had been so ready to do it, so ready to taste those lips, possess them, claim them as his own, but in the end he couldn’t do it. Kissing her would make the lie real and he couldn’t do it. She trusted him more than anyone and betraying her trust was not something he was ready or willing to do. His intention was merely to plant the seed and see what happened once her memory returned. He wanted her to have the choice and he wanted to see if that choice was him.

  He walked to a bench outside a restaurant called Bon Appetite and sat down. A few minutes went by before the silence was broken by the muffled sounds of two people arguing. Max tried to drown out the noise, but it became louder as they burst through the glass doors of the restaurant.

  “Melissa, honey, wait!”

  The familiar voice drew Max’s eyes to its owner. They didn’t see him even though they were only a few feet away on the sidewalk. In the midst of a heated argument, neither of them noticed anyone else.

  “No, Richard,” the woman said, yanking her hand out of his. “I am tired of your lies. You don’t call me for weeks and then I see pictures of all these half-naked women all over you. Are you really gonna try to deny this?”

  Max gritted his teeth and watched as Richard tried to weasel his way out of this trap, using lies to cover up more lies.

  “Melissa, there is no-one else, I promise you that.”

  “And what about that other woman? The one who was with you the night you asked me for my number. Are you still seeing her?”

  Richard smiled, almost amused. “I told you, I stopped seeing her when you and I got together. That was the beginning of February.”

  Melissa must have noticed the same amused grin because she slapped him then. “You are a liar and a cheat!” she shouted. “And I never want to see you again.”

  She turned on her heel and marched down the street, leaving Richard chuckling on the sidewalk.

  Max stood up and walked a few feet to reach the other man. “Hello, Richard,” he said with his usual fake-friendly tone. “Broken any hearts lately?”

  “Just one today, I’m afraid.” Richard turned to him and smirked in a way that made his skin crawl. “Anything else you wanted to know?”

  “Yes, now that you mentioned it.” Max crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you have any intention of going to see Danny? You remember Danny, right? Your girlfriend? You may have told Melissa that you ended it in February, but we both know that’s not true.”

  The amused grin curved on Richard’s face once more. “Let’s cut the shit, Max. I may remember Danny, but from what I hear, she doesn’t remember me and I’d like to keep it that way. So the answer to your question is no. I have no intention of ever seeing her again. You should be happy about it. Now you can have what you always wanted. Keep the nun. I’m not spending another nine months with her just to get some pussy.”

  Max’s blood ran cold at his words, then heated up to the point where it felt like it was bubbling under his skin. “You arrogant fucking prick!”

  He didn’t think, he just jabbed, a solid punch to Richard’s perfect nose. His head flew back on impact.

  Damn, that felt good. But, fuck, it hurt bad! He shook his right hand off to get rid of the sting and when that didn’t work, he placed his left hand over his knuckles as an attempt to absorb the burn. That probably hurt him more than it hurt Richard.

  Richard placed his hand over his nose. A steady stream of blood oozed over his fingers. “You son of bitch! I have a shoot tomorrow.”

  “Like I give a fuck!” Max used his left hand to punch Richard square in the jaw. Everything he felt was delivered in that punch. His rage. His jealousy. His pure annoyance for having to deal with this guy for so many months. He heard a faint crunch of bone and did not know if it was his hand or the other man’s jaw that had cracked with the sheer force of that punch.

  Richard tumbled over and fell hard onto the ground, but he recovered quickly and stood up, menace in his eyes. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

  Richard charged at him and with both his hands out of commission, Max decided to use his legs. He attempted a round-house kick he had learnt in tae-bo class, but it lacked so much grace and precision, it would have made Billy Blanks shake his head in shame. If someone had to take a picture of the exact moment his leg collided with Richard, the caption would read: FAILED: Round-house kick? You’re doing it wrong!

  Richard threw himself at Max, sending them both crashing to floor. He straddled his legs over Max’s abdomen and started pounding. Max lifted his forearms above his face to protect himself from the heavy blows, but Richard’s furious punches still connected his eye, his cheek, his mouth. There was one point where Max thought his body would go limp from pain.

  Richard beat him until he felt he had had enough before he finally stood up. “Remember one thing,” he said, kneeling down on the sidewalk beside Max. “You only have her because I don’t want her anymore.” He rose and after one swift kick to the stomach, he left Max on the ground, squirming in pain.

  * * *

  Max limped into the apartment. His body ached everywhere. Blood-stains covered his shirt. Slowly, he made his way to the bathroom and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. A bluish-black bruise encircled his right eye and with the swelling, he could barely keep it open. His lip was cut on one side and was jutting out like he had underwent a Botox injection with an infected needle.

  As he opened the bathroom cabinet to retrieve the disinfectant, he heard the creak of Danny’s bedroom door. She was in the bathroom behind him within a few seconds.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Her tone was harsh, but her voice cracked, very clearly showing her worry.

  “Out,” he clipped curtly.

  “It’s almost ten o’ clock. You don’t call me. You don’t tell me that you’re gonna be late.”

  Max took out the disinfectant and a few cotton balls from the cabinet. “Oh, so you’re talking to me now?”

  “Are you saying—” She abruptly stopped speaking when he slammed the cabinet door shut and she saw his reflection in mirror. “Max, what happened to you?”

  “I fell down some stairs.” He nipped his lower lip and winced at the pain.

  “You’re lying! What happened to you?”

  He squirted the disinfectant onto the cotton wool and began cleaning his lip. “I got mugged.”

  He turned around and her eyes widened at the full sight of him. His ripped, blood-stained shirt made him look like he had been mauled by a bear. Her lip quivered and he could tell by her constant blinking that there were tears on the verge of falling.

  With his swollen, numb hands, he began the tiresome exercise of unbuttoning his shirt. Pulling the shirt off revealed more bruises on chest and forearms and that’s when the tears came.

  “Max, please tell me—”

  “Drop it, Danny!”

  She quickly wiped her eyes and without saying another word, she walked to him. “Sit down,” she said softly.

  He limped a few steps and sat down on the edge of the bath tub. She didn’t look at him. Instead, she soaked a hand towel with cold water, dropped to her knees in front of him, and began gently cleaning the cuts on his knuckles. He heard the sniffles, felt the heavy teardrops land on his hand, but she wouldn’t look at him.

  “Hey,” he whispered.

  There was no response. Turning his wrist slightly, she moved the cloth up to clean the wounds on his forearm.

  “Danny?”

  She still didn’t look at him as she tossed the hand towel into the basin and grabbed the disinfectant.

  Max placed his hand over hers to still her. “Danielle?”

  Slowly her head lifted to look up at him, tears escaping her eyes. “Why are you so angry at me? What did I do?”

  Max exhaled an exasperated breath as he considered the question. He wasn’t just angry at her. He was angry at everyone. Angry at Amber and Charlie for putting him in a situation where he had to lie to her every day. Angry at Richard for
the hateful words that had left his mouth. Angry at Danny for every single thing she had done in the last six years that made him feel invisible. But mostly, he was angry – just angry – because he didn’t know. He didn’t know if she would be looking at him like that had it not been for the accident.

  Richard’s words were haunting him. She had never made the choice to be with him, not ever. She had not done one thing to make him believe that what was happening between them was actually real.

  He used his thumb to gently stroke away the tears on her cheek. Moving both hands around her neck, he clasped his fingers together at the base of her head. The fine length of her hair tickled his skin. “You didn’t do anything,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “I think that’s the problem.”

  * * *

  Max dropped the plugs of his gaming console when he heard a knock at the door. He had not fully recovered from Richard’s ass whipping and standing up required quite a bit of effort. He slowly limped to the door to answer it.

  “Hey, Charlie.”

  Charlie’s eyes popped out. “Fuck! What happened to you? Did you run face-first into a bus?”

  “Richard,” was the only explanation Max offered as he limped back to the living room.

  Charlie closed the door and followed him in. “Is that boyfriend number four?”

  “Five,” Max corrected, plonking down on the sofa.

  “So was it a full on death match or did you go down swinging?”

  “I only got in two good punches.” Max didn’t think it was necessary to mention the failed roundhouse kick. The situation was embarrassing enough as is.

  Charlie sat down and lifted the controls, but when Max did not do the same, he turned to look at him. “You okay? You seem a bit out of it.”

  “Yeah.” Max nodded. “Just got a lot on my mind. Richard said some things that were so…it was so…true.” He went on to tell Charlie about the whole series of events from the rejected kiss to the argument he’d witnessed with Melissa to Richard beating the living daylights out of him. “He basically said that I only have her because he doesn’t want her anymore…and…and he’s right, Charlie. Danny is only with me because I lied to her…lying to her.”

  Charlie released a heavy sigh. “Max, I’ve never really liked Danny and you know that. She is selfish and crude and I used to believe that she was more trouble than she was worth. But one thing I could never fault her on is how much she cares about you.”

  “As a friend, Charlie.”

  “No, Max! I wouldn’t have sacrificed you to the devil if I didn’t see with my own eyes. Let me tell you what your problem is. When you think about her, all you see is every other guy. You don’t see what’s right in front of you. She goes out of her way every year to make your birthday special. Why would she do that, huh, Max? Why did she invite you to the charity dinner instead of Richard? Why was she so jealous of Sofia? Why is she with you every Christmas, no matter who she’s dating? You may be lying to her, but you can’t force her to feel something that’s not there. She wanted to kiss you. You didn’t put that thought in her head. Those are all her feelings. You want her to choose? She’s choosing you every day, but you’re so hung up on the past that you’re screwing up the present.”

  Max dropped his head and considered Charlie’s words very carefully. He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t a hundred percent right either. One thing he agreed with Charlie on was the fact that he was messing up the present. She had sat crying on the bathroom floor just two nights ago because he had been too consumed with his own rage. He was lashing out at her for things she could not remember and she didn’t deserve that. Damn Richard! Damn him and Anthony and Steve and Rolind and all those other fucking jerks. It was his time now.

  Danny came through the front door a few minutes later.

  “Hey,” Max greeted. “Did you have a good time with Amber?”

  “Yeah. Though sometimes she’s so rude it shocks me.” She giggled as she walked to the living room. “Hey.” She nodded a greeting. “It’s Charlie, right?”

  “Hi,” Charlie responded.

  “Oh, you like video games, too?” she asked, glancing down at the control in his hand. “I guess it’s a good thing you guys have that in common. It must make the age gap feel a bit smaller.”

  Max chuckled when he noticed Charlie pull in his lips to stop an outburst. “Are you sure you’re not faking your memory loss, because that’s—”

  “Charlie,” Max said quietly to settle him.

  “We’re the same age,” he said instead.

  “Oh.” A cute little sheepish grin curved on Danny’s face and she toyed with her fingers as an attempt to hide her embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I…I didn’t know…um…I’ll get you guys something to drink.” She hurried out of the living room, but Max could hear her laughing in the kitchen and he was sure Charlie heard it, too. She wasn’t really trying too hard to keep it down.

  “Make no mistake about it,” Charlie said, pressing the start button on the control. “I meant what I said earlier, but I still hate her guts.”

  * * *

  Danny adjusted the throw pillow beneath her head and sprawled her legs out on the living room carpet. She looked over at Max, who was also on the floor, sitting with his back against the sofa. He looked up from his cards, flashing her a smile, and she quickly turned her attention back to her own cards, which she held above her face.

  She didn’t like it when he looked at her in that way anymore. It made her feel vulnerable. It made her believe that he was actually attracted to her when she knew he wasn’t.

  Side stepping issues was becoming the norm in this apartment. There were no awkward moments, no stilted silences, but the small space was beginning to fill with all the things they weren’t saying to each other. There had been no mention of the goodnight kiss request, no explanation for his bruised and battered body. That was over a week ago and still not one word. They talked. They laughed. They played games, but having a discussion about the things that were really bothering them was the one thing they didn’t do.

  Danny slipped her finger under the material of her bandana and scratched her head. Her head itched constantly, but she preferred to keep it covered. Hiding the scar meant hiding every feeling that went with it.

  She risked another glance at Max before studying her cards again. One jack, two aces, a two, a four and an eight. With these cards, the game couldn’t possibly end well. “Give me all your jacks,” she said after some deliberation.

  Max slid two cards across the floor and without lifting her head from the pillow, she reached over to retrieve them.

  Ha! Now, three jacks. It was looking a bit more promising.

  “Give me all your sixes,” Max said.

  “Go fish.”

  After another Friday night of grilled cheese sandwiches, Max suggested a game of cards to break the monotony. She was truly going insane staying at home day in and day out. She had watched Jerry Maguire four times already. She had even watched every Harry Potter movie to kill the time. She cleaned. She read. She listened to music. She tried to perfect her culinary skills, but with limited options of things to do, boredom was eating at her brain. At least the card games were a different form of entertainment.

  She felt his eyes on her and tried to focus on her cards. “Give me all your fours,” she said.

  “Go fish.”

  He was doing it again, looking at her with his distant admiration that made her insides turn to jelly. On days like this, she found him irresistible. On days when he was just Max, goofy loveable Max, without the weight of the past on his shoulders, he appealed to something inside her that was beyond her understanding. A certain look in his brown eyes and she would heat up from the inside out. Despite everything that had happened during the last few days – and the tension and lies that went with it – she was still the girl crushing on her boyfriend.

  He drew his knee up to his chest, then eased it back down, trying to stretch out the leg that still
caused him to walk with a bit of limp. That was the only remnant that remained after whatever had happened to him last week. The cuts and bruises had healed, leaving behind only the slightest hint of blue under his right eye.

  “Give me all your jacks,” Max said.

  Danny cringed internally at the thought of giving away her three jacks, but then something struck her. “When did you get a jack?” she asked, sitting up.

  “I just picked it up.”

  He nipped his lower lip and she had learnt last week what that gesture meant. “You’re lying. You had three and you only gave me two.”

  He looked back at his cards with indifference, but the sly smile that curved on his lips showed his guilt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You cheated!”

  “Listen, Baldilocks, I did not cheat.”

  “Baldilocks?” she repeated, tasting the name as it left her mouth. “Did you just call me…Baldilocks?”

  “Yes.” He snickered, pulling in his lips to stop it from progressing to outright laughter.

  “Well, I’ll have you know, Mister hop-along-Joe…” she said it like a nursery rhyme as she pulled off her bandana to reveal the slight fuzz of dark hair on her head. “…that my hair is beginning to grow.”

  “Oh, I see,” he said, his amusement seemingly harder to contain. “I apologize. I should call you…Sargent Baldilocks.”

  She tossed the throw pillow at his head, stopping his bubbly laughter dead in its tracks.

  “It always ends in violence with you.”

  Before she could think of a comeback, he crawled across the small space and tackled her to the ground. He straddled his legs over her and her hands quickly moved up to his sides, as if they remembered his weak spots.

  “No tickling,” he warned.

  But her fingers began to move faster, inching its way up closer to his underarms.

  “No tickling!” His laughter was infectious, almost squeaky as he tried to push her hands off his body. “Fight fair, Danny! Stop! Stop! No tickling!”