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The bruises began to fade on her face, and one day as he sat there, Randall stood over her, lifting up her wrist, staring at his watch.

  Preacher watched her, waiting.

  All of a sudden, she opened her eyes.

  It was like magic.

  One moment, they were closed and the machines were doing their merry little show of keeping everything intact and in place. The next, they were beeping. Going crazy as her heart rate sped up.

  She sat up in bed and started clawing at her face, trying to yank her breathing tube out.

  “I need some help in here,” Randall said, calling out to be heard. Nurses and doctors rushed into the room.

  Preacher stood up, wanting to help. He saw the panic in her eyes. The fear.

  Anyone would be able to see it if they only took a few minutes to stare at her. She was trying to claw at her face, but with one hand bandaged, she struggled.

  His heart was pounding.

  What should he do? There was nothing he could do to help her. He wasn’t a doctor and seeing her like this, it broke his heart. The panic, the fear, it was tangible.

  “What’s going on?” Bishop asked. He held a small bouquet of flowers, tulips and Preacher smelled the other women on his body.

  Not caring about his son’s selfish ways, he stared at his woman, amazed that she had woken up. He’d seen her eyes open and it was beautiful to witness. He never thought he’d ever been so freaking happy than he was at that moment.

  “Robin, I need you to calm down. I’m going to take the breathing tube out. You’re going to be in pain. You’ve been in an accident.”

  As Randall took charge, making her listen to him, she stopped trying to fight the machine. Preacher struggled to watch as they removed the tube and she gasped, taking in deep breaths.

  “Water?”

  Her voice was croaky but just hearing the sound of her voice was sweet bliss to his ears.

  Randall handed her a glass. “Okay, Robin. It’s good to see you. This is good news.”

  The nurses and fellow doctors were all nodding and confirming their agreement. It was fucking brilliant news.

  Robin kept on drinking until she finally stopped and turned to look at Randall.

  “Who’s Robin?” She frowned.

  “Robin?”

  She nodded.

  Randall looked toward him.

  “Do you know who I am?” Randall asked.

  “You’re a doctor.”

  “Yes, but who am I?” He hid his nametag and she kept on frowning.

  “I don’t know who you are.”

  “What’s your name?”

  Robin opened her mouth and closed it. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you know who these men are?” Randall asked, pointing toward him and Bishop.

  “No. I don’t. I don’t remember.”

  “Do you remember where you were a month ago?” Randall asked.

  She looked down at the bed, and he watched her try to come up with an answer, but nothing was there. “I don’t remember.”

  One of the monitors started to beep erratically again.

  “I don’t remember. What does that mean? I don’t understand. Why can’t I remember?” she screamed, starting to cry.

  Preacher wanted to comfort her. But how do you comfort a woman when she didn’t know who he was? He couldn’t just go and take her into his arms.

  Randall cleared the room. Nurses and doctors left, and finally he and Bishop stood at the door.

  “She doesn’t remember anything?” Preacher asked.

  “I need to have a few minutes with her. I need to understand the extent of her amnesia. If it’s everything she knows or just facts,” Randall said.

  “Wait. What does this mean?” Bishop asked.

  “It means she’s very sick and is going to need a lot of help. I will know more soon, but for now, you’re going to have to wait.” Randall closed the door.

  Preacher looked through the window and saw her staring right back at him. Her head was tilted to the side and he watched her.

  He’d never been so fucking nervous in all his life.

  “What the fuck does this mean? What does any of this mean?” Bishop asked.

  “It means she’s very sick,” Preacher said. “We’re going to have to wait for Randall to fill us in on the details.”

  In one moment, he’d felt so much pleasure and relief. She wasn’t dead or hurting, but now, he didn’t know what was worse—her not knowing who he was, or the long-term damage this could have caused.

  “What do we do?” Bishop asked.

  “We do what we have to. I’m going to have to call Bear.”

  “I can go and get him. It’s not far. You should stay here,” Bishop said.

  “I will.”

  Bishop left and Preacher took his cell phone out, sending a quick text to Bear. His son had a one-track mind, and Preacher didn’t want something as important as this to be forgotten.

  Preacher sat out in the hall. He watched as the hospital continued to move. Patients were seen. Doctors and nurses hurried up and down the hallway. Code blues were yelled. Patients were brought in. He saw it all, heard it all, but none of it mattered to him. He was completely oblivious to it all. Preacher didn’t know how much time had passed before he caught sight of Bear running toward him.

  “I came as soon as I got your message.” He stood at the window.

  “Randall’s checking on her to see the full extent of the damage.”

  “We don’t know what is going on?”

  “Nope. We don’t know anything.”

  “What did she know?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “She knew Randall was a doctor, but not his name. She didn’t know who I was, or Bishop for that matter. He’s seeing what she does and doesn’t know.”

  “This can’t be happening. We can’t get her back for her to be gone again. I don’t want to … no, it’s not going to happen.”

  “If you go in there, you’re going to freak her out,” Preacher said.

  “Freak her out? I’m her father. What the fuck does that mean?”

  “You didn’t see her trying to get the breathing tube out of her mouth. She was so scared. I’ll never forget it.”

  “You’re so fucking calm about this.”

  “I have no choice, do I? I either let this get to me and lose control, or I accept I finally found her, and now, I’ve got to wait a little longer until she’s well again. Either way, this is good for us, and I’m not going to give up.”

  Bear took a seat beside him.

  They both waited for Randall to leave the room, which he did a short time later.

  Preacher stood up.

  “So, what’s the verdict, Doc?” Bear asked.

  “She doesn’t remember anyone or anything of her past. She can read, write, understand everything on an academic level, but her life, she’s a blank canvas.”

  Preacher took a deep breath. “So what do we do?”

  “We give her time. The brain works in mysterious ways. She could remember in an hour, tomorrow, next week, or as in some cases, she may never recover her memory.”

  “What does this mean?” Bear asked.

  “It means we have to take our time with her. Sometimes, she may feel a little overwhelmed. It would be good not to bombard her with too much information but to see how she reacts to people and situations. She may need therapy as well, and I do want to get her started on some exercises for her foot. Robin is going to need us now more than ever.”

  Chapter Four

  Who was she?

  Why was she in the hospital?

  How did she get all these bruises?

  She looked over her arms and saw some ink wrapped around one wrist, almost like a chain. Beneath the bandage on her other arm, she wondered if a replica tattoo was there, but she couldn’t see it. She’d asked the doctor, but he hadn’t been able to help her.

  There was more ink on her body, but again, she didn’t know why.

  The pain i
n her side was from a cracked rib. She had to take it steady or she’d hurt herself even more. Every single part of her was hurting.

  Picking up a strand of hair, she saw it was blonde, the kind out of a bottle. How did she know all of this but not her own name?

  The machines around her, why?

  Her foot hurt a great deal. Her face was swollen. She could only see out of one eye, but the doctor had told her it was getting better, and a month ago, she wouldn’t have seen anything.

  Great, just great.

  Her hands shook a little. Her heart raced. She felt a little sick.

  Nerves? Worry?

  Why would she be worried?

  It wasn’t every single day a woman woke up and couldn’t remember her own life. She knew the doctors were medical staff, as were nurses. Chairs were to sit on, and beds to lie down on. She didn’t know anything else and it was really starting to bug her.

  The door opened and in walked the doctor. Two other men she didn’t recognize stepped into the room. Both men were wearing leather cuts. Again, no warning bells went off. No recognition.

  “Did I do something bad?” she asked.

  “Why would you think that?” Randall asked.

  “The face. The broken bones. The head-on collision with a car you told me about. It kind of makes me think I did something wrong.”

  “You don’t need to worry. These men, they’re not here to hurt you.”

  “Hey, baby,” the one on the right said.

  “Baby?”

  “You’re my daughter.”

  “Oh, hello … Dad.” The word didn’t sound right on her tongue.

  “The name’s Bear,” he said.

  “If you’re my dad, does that mean you know my name?” she asked.

  Should she feel anything? Some connection to this man? Nothing made any sense to her, and it freaked her out.

  “Can I tell her her name?” Bear asked.

  “I don’t see why not. She needs to know it.”

  “I’m sitting right here. I want to know my name,” she said. What she didn’t like was being spoken over as if she didn’t exist. She was right here for them to see. Hello!

  “I know, sweetheart, but it’s also important for us not to overwhelm you.”

  “I need to know my name, though, right? I need to know what to respond to.” She hated not knowing. She rubbed at her temple, feeling the start of a headache.

  “Are you okay?” Randall asked. “What kind of pain do you have?”

  “I … it’s fine. I can handle it. I need to know everything.”

  “Let’s start with your name.”

  She wanted to tell him no, to tell her everything, but she settled on her name.

  “Robin, your name is Robin Rose … Keats.”

  “Why did you hesitate on my last name?” she asked. Something was going on, she knew it deep in her soul.

  Again, Bear looked toward the doctor.

  “I’m sitting right here.” Tears filled her eyes. “I just want to know what is going on. Do you have any idea what this is like?”

  “I know, sweetheart, but you’ve got to give this time. There’s a lot that happened to you. We haven’t seen you in a long time.”

  “How long?”

  “A long time,” Randall said.

  She wiped the tears away and sniffled. “I … I’m sorry.”

  “You’re not to blame.” The man who hadn’t spoken until now stepped forward.

  She lifted her head, staring at him, hoping for some kind of memory to trigger. In the back of her mind, it was like she was desperate to know the truth. It was important to her to know every single little detail of what happened.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “I’m Preacher,” he said. He held out his hand and she stared at it.

  It was a big hand, firm, strong-looking. She lifted her hand, not the injured one, and took his hand.

  No memories surfaced but as he touched her, she felt … safe. Was it possible to feel safe with a man she’d never known?

  “My name’s Robin Rose Keats. You’re my dad, and you’re my …”

  “I’m your friend,” he said.

  “Friend?”

  He nodded.

  It didn’t feel like a friendship, but she kept her mouth shut.

  Looking from her dad to her …friend, she knew something wasn’t right.

  “What about a mom? Do I have a mom?” she asked.

  Bear and Preacher looked at each other then at her.

  “Your mom passed a long time ago. You don’t need to worry about her.”

  “Why would I need to wor—”

  Someone gasped at the door and she turned to see a young man. He looked a little like Preacher but not entirely so. He smiled as he stared at her. “Robin, it is so good to see you awake.”

  “Bishop, I don’t think you should—”

  “Who are you?” she asked, talking over Preacher.

  “I’m your husband,” Bishop said.

  ****

  Preacher wanted to beat the living shit out of his son. Robin didn’t get up from the bed and run to him, nor did she look at Bishop as if he was a gift from the gods. No, she stayed in the bed and looked at him.

  “We’re married?” she asked.

  “Yes. You and I, we’re married and have been for about three years now,” Bishop said, stepping closer.

  He wanted to warn Bishop, but he couldn’t say a fucking thing. Yes, Bishop and Robin had been married but only to keep him out of jail and to avert a fucking crisis. Robin didn’t love Bishop.

  Does she even love me?

  No vows or promises were whispered to each other and now, he felt like a fucking prick for not telling her he loved her.

  Robin stared down at her hand. “I’m not wearing a ring.”

  Bishop reached into his pocket. “I have it here. We had a bit of a fight.”

  “Did you cause this?” she asked, pointing to her face.

  “No, I would never hurt you. You know this.”

  “I don’t know anything. I don’t know who you are.” When Bishop took a step toward her, Robin jerked back. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “We’re together. We’ve been friends for life.”

  “I don’t know who you are.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “Please leave,” she said.

  The machines beeped.

  “Bishop, leave,” Bear said.

  Preacher stayed perfectly still, watching his son. Bishop’s shoulders slumped.

  “One day, you will recognize me and know that I love you and you love me, so much.” Bishop put the wedding band on the bed and left.

  She didn’t make a move to pick up the wedding band.

  Randall picked it up and placed it on the cabinet beside her bed. “I think it is best we let you rest,” Randall said. “Rest will help you.”

  She looked toward Bear and Preacher. “Am I married to him?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Preacher said.

  “Do I love him?”

  He honestly didn’t know how to answer that.

  “You and Bishop have been friends for a really long time,” Bear said, taking the lead.

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “It’s hard to answer. You and Bishop have always had issues. You love him in your own way. I honestly don’t know what else to tell you.”

  She didn’t trust him. Preacher saw it.

  “Bear, I’m going to need you to come and sign some paperwork,” Randall said.

  Preacher stayed perfectly still, very much aware of his son not too far away.

  Robin watched the other men go and she finally turned her gaze back to his. “You’ve been really quiet.”

  “I’m just pleased you’re okay.”

  “Were we close?”

  He stared at her, not sure how to answer.

  “I guess I’m going to have to get used to people keeping secrets from me, aren’t I?” she asked.


  “It’s not a secret. We can’t overwhelm you.” He took a seat, watching her.

  “I … I don’t know who that guy is who’s claiming to be my husband. I feel a little sick and I don’t understand why. Can I trust my body? My mind?” She laughed. “My mind, it’s totally gone.” She leaned back against the bed.

  “You’re tired. You need to rest.”

  “I want to remember everything. Can’t you tell me every single little detail?” she asked. She reached out, trying to grab him.

  Preacher took her hand. “You’re going to be fine, Robin. One day, you will remember everything.”

  “What if I don’t? What if I never remember anything and you all are waiting for me to remember important details and facts?”

  “None of us are expecting you to remember anything. We all just want you to get well. Sleep for now, Robin. I will be watching you and taking care of you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  She let go of his hand and settled back on the bed, breathing out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. That’s really good. I can handle it. I can handle all of this.”

  He watched her fall asleep before finally leaving the room. He pulled the door partially closed and leaned against the wall. He breathed in deeply then expelled his breath. He did this several times, thankful she was at least alive and that he didn’t have to go on hunting for her or worrying about what was happening. She was back home and that was all that mattered to him. Above everything else, she had to be safe.

  He couldn’t think about anything else right now, just keeping her alive, away from Reaper. That son of a bitch, he would kill him when he got the chance. His hunt wasn’t over.

  “I bet you’re feeling pretty smug about all of this,” Bishop said.

  Preacher looked at his son. “And why would I feel smug?”

  “She doesn’t remember me or that we’re married. Or how much she loves me.”

  He laughed. “I really fucked up when it came to you, didn’t I?”

  “She’s mine.”

  “Last time I checked, son, she didn’t have a fucking brand on her to state she was anyone’s. She has no owner.”

  “She doesn’t remember me and she doesn’t remember you. You’re not going to get her back.”

  “Son, all I want from her is to be healthy. I want her to get her life back. This isn’t some kind of fucking competition where one of us is the victor. She’s not a trophy. She’s a real human being and maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you’d see it.”