“Can you tell me where it hurts?”
I nod and meet her gaze. “Everywhere.”
“And on a scale of one to ten, can you rate your pain?”
“Seven, I guess.”
She grabs a pen from her pocket and a little notepad. “We’ll get some more pain meds on board for you, okay? Can you tell me your name?”
I nod. “Juliette Shaw.”
“Very good,” she answers, her smile widening. “And what is your date of birth?”
“May third, nineteen-ninety.”
She nods her approval as she jots down some notes, glancing between the paper in her hand and the monitor next to my bed. “And what year is it, Juliette?”
“Two thousand fourteen.”
Her pen stalls and her gaze snaps up to mine as her mouth falls open. “Do you know what city you’re in?”
“Baton Rouge,” I answer with a nod. She scowls before nodding and pointing to the other side of the room.
“And what about that guy there? Can you tell me who he is?”
Rolling my head to the side, I scowl and study mystery man again as he grips my hand. He’s ridiculously handsome in a classic sort of way that reminds me of expensive suits, caviar, and private planes. His medium length brown hair is slicked back, making him look completely put together, like he could throw on a suit and command a boardroom, but the stubble along his angular jaw and the dark circles under his blue eyes give away how exhausted he is. I feel like I should know him but no matter how hard I study his face or search my memories, I just can’t place him. His gaze searches mine, full of fear and hope, silently begging, and as much as I would love to give him whatever he’s so desperate for, I’m not sure what he wants from me. I glance down at his hands encasing mine before slowly shaking my head and turning back to Colleen.
“No. I don’t know who he is.”
“Oh, God,” he whispers, pain filling his voice as he drops his forehead to our hands. Colleen scowls.
“Okay. Let me go tell the doctors you’re awake.”
“Juliette,” mystery man says as soon as she leaves the room and I turn back to him, my gaze falling to our entwined hands again. I don’t want to be rude but it’s a little too much from someone I don’t even know. Although he seems to know me very well which makes me wonder again, who the hell is he? I suck in a breath and drop my head back onto the pillow.
Okay, what do I know?
Clearly, I’m in a hospital and something horrible happened to me since I feel like I’ve gone ten rounds with a heavyweight. What’s the last thing I remember? I got off work and called Mercedes to see if she wanted to go out for drinks and we went to that country bar downtown that we love so much. After a few drinks, we decided to go home and shared a cab and then… nothing.
“Juliette? You still with me?” mystery man asks and my eyes snap open. I meet his gaze and nod.
“Yeah.” My throat aches and I point to the cup of water. “Could I have some more of that?”
He nods and releases my hand to grab the cup from the bedside table as I breathe a sigh of relief. As he brings the cup back to me and holds the straw in front of my lips, I tuck my hand under my leg and lean forward to take a sip as my muscles scream in protest. Studying him, I search my memories for his face. Maybe I met him at the bar… although I feel like I would definitely remember if I did and he doesn’t really seem the type to hang out in a country bar no matter how much fun the mechanical bull is.
“Thank you,” I whisper as I pull away and he nods as he sets the cup back down and reclaims his seat next to my bed. He reaches for my hand, frowning when he realizes that I’ve hidden it. As he meets my gaze, he sighs and folds his hands on the bed.
“Who are you?” I ask before he can say anything else. Maybe it’s rude of me to be so forward but I need answers and I have no qualms about starting here. He opens his mouth but before he can say anything, a tall man in a white coat walks into the room.
“Good Morning, Miss Shaw. I’m Dr. Wilson. How are you feeling?”
I open my mouth to reply before looking back at mystery man. I have no clue how to answer that question. It’s like I’m hovering over my body, watching this all go down as they both stare at me, waiting for my answer. I’m quick enough to realize that I’m missing something here but I can’t, for the life of me, figure out what it is. Mystery man sighs.
“I think she’s a little confused.”
“So I heard,” he replies, frowning as he glances down at my chart. “Are you in any pain?”
“Only when I breathe,” I quip and a smile tugs at his lips, his brown eyes sparkling as he meets my gaze.
“Well, it’s good to see you still have a sense of humor. Can you rate the pain for me?”
I nod. “Probably a five until I move; then, it’s a seven.”
“That’s to be expected,” he answers, flipping through a few pages and scanning them before looking up at me again. “Colleen tells me you’re having some trouble with your memory. Can you tell me the last thing you do remember?”
“Uh… I was having drinks with my best friend, Mercedes, to celebrate me moving to Miami… and then I woke up here. What happened to me?”
He sighs as he folds his hands in front of his body. “You were in a very serious car accident, Miss Shaw, and you’ve been in a coma for the past week.”
“What?” I gasp, my eyes growing wide as I stare up at him. My mind drifts to Mercedes. We took a cab back to my place after the club. “What about my friend, Mercedes? Is she okay?”
The doctor glances at mystery man before turning back to me. “Can you tell me what year it is, Miss Shaw?”
“Two thousand fourteen,” I answer, my patience quickly slipping away. Why the hell is he avoiding my questions about Mercedes? Did something happen to her? “Is Mercedes okay? She was in the car with me after the bar. We were going back to our apartment.”
Dr. Wilson sighs, compassion flashing across his face. “Miss Shaw, your friend, Mercedes, wasn’t with you.”
“Yes, she was,” I insist, interrupting him. I don’t know what kind of game he’s playing but I want to know where Mercedes is. That girl is like the sister I never had and if something happened to her, I’ll never forgive myself for forcing her to go out for drinks with me.
“Juliette,” he says, his voice soft but commanding. “She wasn’t with you when you came in because it’s two thousand nineteen, not two thousand fourteen. You’re in Miami and the man sitting beside you is your fiancé.”
“What?” I ask, my mind reeling as my gaze flicks back and forth between the two of them. Mystery man offers me a hopeful smile. “No. That can’t be right.”
“It is right, baby,” the man… my fiancé… says, grabbing my hand again and I stare at him with wide eyes. “I’m Gavin, your fiancé.”
I slowly shake my head, my heart thundering in my chest as my head aches. No, this isn’t right. “I don’t have a boyfriend… or a fiancé. I only broke up with Rick a few weeks ago. He… didn’t want to make the move with me so we ended things.”