“What if I remember them and in doing that, forget you again?” Liz roars. “What if I wake up and have forgotten completely who I am and am nothing but a blank slate? I can’t trust my fuckin’ brain, can I? Why should a vest made of leather remind me who I am, when I lived with you for two years and didn’t fuckin’ remember?” His anger, his indifference to the club seem to disappear and he has tears rolling down his face. “I’ve fucked up your life, Vanna. Obviously I mean something to Mace, Demon and the others, and I’m fucking them up now. I fuck everything up. All because—”
“All because of the explosion that wasn’t your fault, Brother,” I snap. “You were doing your duty, serving your country. No, you didn’t fuckin’ deserve what you got. But you’re alive, others aren’t. Vanna’s strong, she dealt with you being gone. Give us some credit, too, Brother. You decide you want to ride with us again? Well, your fitness permitting, that’s what you can do. You take each day as it comes. You don’t have to decide right now what you’re going to do with the rest of your life.”
Vanna tells him fast, “You’ve got time, Liz. We’ve got time.”
“What if I forget everything?” he asks again, his eyes haunted.
“Then we’ll fuckin’ remind you,” I promise. “Day after day if you’ll listen to us. Our stories, Vanna’s too, will become your new memories. No pressure, no fuss.”
“We’ll get you through,” Vanna vows.
Now I do step around Vanna and leave them to it, closing the door so husband and wife can have some privacy.
Out in the hallway I pause and draw in a deep shuddering breath.
“Are you alright?”
Seems she always appears at the right time, when I don’t know until that point, she’s precisely what I was needing.
“No.” I indicate my room, and Shayla walks inside. It’s only when I’ve thrown myself on the chair and she’s perched on the bed that I resume, letting my remorse and sorrow flood out, speaking to her like I could to no other, even one of my brothers.
“Liz hadn’t recognised me at the hospital, so I knew what to expect. I thought I was prepared for it. But seeing him here and him not recognising a thing? Not even his cut, or any of us…” I pause, clearing my throat as my voice is breaking. “Shay, it’s a fuckin’ disaster. He’s angry, he’s upset. I can’t even imagine what it’s like for him to know he’s lived years which he loses in a flash, only knowing the truth of it because of a date on a fucking calendar. And Vanna? Christ.” I seem to be on a roll and can’t stop. “Now I realise the half of what she went through. If it’s bad for me, what was it like for her? And for that poor kid Cas? Now it’s happening all over again.” Vanna’s so strong, but she’s had to be.
“It’s a nightmare come true,” Shayla says softly. Rising, she crosses the room to me, and leaning over, pulls my head against her chest. I take comfort from her eagerly. My cheek, cushioned against her breast, can hear her heart beating.
I’m the enforcer. I’m meant to be strong. But at this moment, I’m done with fighting.
A stray tear rolls from my eye as I wonder whether there’s any way back from this for Lizard, or for any of us.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lizard
I’m Lizard, otherwise known as Norton James. I’m… thirty-eight years old or so I’m told, and my birthday is the tenth of January. I’m married to Vanna and have a little boy—no, that’s wrong—a teenage son called Cas.
I wake alone in a bed I’m told is mine. It’s comfortable for sure, the pillow is just right, but it’s unfamiliar. The clothes hanging in the closet fit, as do the shoes and boots, but I can’t for the life of me remember purchasing or wearing them.
Vanna and I had a long discussion yesterday, triggered by my discovery of a drawer stuffed full of condoms in what I was told was my room. While she’d already told me about the club girls, I’d been devastated to find out my wife had actually witnessed me going off with them. That I’d flaunted my infidelity in her face. What kind of man had I been? Clearly, Demon wants me to become that man again, but even if I could, do I want to?
I’d had my own thoughts which I hadn’t shared. What if my memory returns, and I’m drawn to them rather than Vanna? Has the damage already been done and I’m going to lose her? I can tell she has reservations about me. Is it that she doesn’t like the man I’m supposed to have been for ten years? Is she worried what I’ll make of the older her, or can she not forgive me being unfaithful, even though I must have thought at the time I’d been totally free? I can’t believe it was me who did that.
I wasn’t surprised when she suggested we sleep apart and not rush into anything, by which she meant a physical relationship, or, while I’m not fit enough yet, even the closeness of sharing a bed.
She said we’ve got time, but I’m not sure of that. What if I don’t recover but get worse? What if my mind gives out on me completely? What if the universe hasn’t yet stopped toying with me?
When I’d woken in the hospital bed and Vanna had been there, it had seemed so simple. When I got out, I’d go home with her and pick up from where we left off. Even learning the ten-year gap, I hadn’t initially considered the ramifications. Perhaps it would be easier if it was just her and me. But it’s not, there’s Cas to consider.
I can look at Evangeline and know she’s my wife. Matured, yes, but still the girl I met and thought enough of to marry. I still love her, she still comes first in my world. Cas, though? He’s like a stranger. He doesn’t even look like my little boy. He looks like me. There’s no denying our relationship, and I wouldn’t want to do that, but I don’t know him at all. He’s got some of my traits, some of Vanna’s, and some which are his uniquely.
Reaching out, I pick up the stress ball I’d left by the side of my bed and religiously start doing the exercises I’d been shown. Fuck it, but if I can’t do anything about my head, I’ll work on my body instead. What kind of husband or a father would I make, disabled and on crutches for the rest of my life?
As I squeeze, then relax that ball with my right hand, I think about yesterday afternoon and the words Mace had said. I might have been prejudiced against coming to the club for what I thought had been valid reasons, but nothing and no one here had so far lived up to my most dire expectations. Demon had suggested I could rediscover my place here, even if I’d never remembered being here before. Could get to know the men who regard themselves as my family all over again. Do I want that? What would it mean for me and Vanna?
Hatch was the only man who I remember being close to. Members of my unit of course, we’d all trusted each other to have our backs. But Hatch, he was special. If Mace and Demon are to be believed, I’ve now a club full of brothers who used to mean as much to me as my brother-in-arms. Could I ever regain that? Should I give them a chance?
Yet another reason for me to regain my strength.
I contribute by being a tattoo artist. What if I can never hold a tat gun again?