That was all it took for me.
Immediately, without thinking of it, I knew what I had to do and well, thanks to my father, I knew I had a shot.
How could it not work? After all, my father was the one who told Sean and Shane to bash me across the head. It hurts when I move or when I think of what happened to me, but it’s the best excuse to use in my façade.
Retrograde amnesia, caused by blunt force trauma to the head. Patient has been hit over the head before and suffered amnesia. Conclusion: it was fucking possible.
So, just like the devious bitch I am, I grabbed the opportunity with both hands.
And now here I am, faking amnesia, hoping to God I can keep this charade up until everyone I care about is safe and Nathan goes down.
I couldn’t stand to look at Julian. One more glance, one more second and I was sure that piercing gaze was going to shred me to pieces, and I’d confess my darkest sins in a breath.
I had to look away, but even in my worst moment, he came closer to me, not giving a damn if I remember him or not and I don’t know what to do with that.
At another time before this, I would’ve swooned. I swear my stomach would’ve been full of butterflies, but no, not this time. Instead, when he encouraged me to face my demons, all I wanted to do was bawl my eyes out.
For both of us.
For the hell we’re being put through.
For the unfairness of it.
For the fact that he came for me…
But now is not the time for falling apart. Not yet.
I have so many questions. Like what happened after I got shot?
Where are Kristine and the baby?
And what’s going to happen to Nathan after the show I put on, aided by Nicky? Was all that enough to lock him away forever?
I have to ask, but first, I need to act my heart out.
The doctors have asked me a gazillion questions about what I remember, who I know, what I think is happening. They’ve asked me everything short of my fucking name.
It was hard answering without the hint of knowledge in my mannerisms. When they asked if I can recall even the slightest thing of what happened to me, I had to force stop my body’s natural, almost violent physical reaction from the remembered trauma. I had to bite my tongue and focus on something else and tell them no.
I met Julian when I was a few months shy of fourteen years old, a week before I was to start high school, so in order to protect him and keep up my act of not knowing him, I had to dive back to a time when I didn’t know that a single kiss could mess up my life this much, or that an angry boy punching walls would be the one to make me feel everything.
It was a good plan, fucking spectacular if I do say so myself, but as I sat there, my mind racing, blurry memories started coming to me of that time.
It didn’t take long for the buried pain of my childhood to start poking out it’s ugliness.
Everything I said is true.
Nathan did beat up Nancy and Nicky, especially when he came home drunk. I just hadn’t remembered the extent of his cruelty until just now, my only objective being to make him suffer and pay for what he did.
I remember some really scary men coming to the house, banging on the door, demanding for what they were owed.
I remember the way he offered me to them.
I rem night he dragged me out of bed, and presented me to the strange, scary men.
I remember it all. I just chose to bury it and focus on Nancy.
The only spice in that tale was when I mentioned about Nathan locking up Nancy and Nicky. I just wanted to pile it up on my piece of shit father. I know it’s wrong but to be fair, the guy does look like he can do it.
I’m not sure if the charges of abuse can stick, but trafficking? We’ll just have to wait and see. In the meantime, I need to come up with a plan B if things go south. With my luck, it’s bound to happen.
I can see the detectives standing in the hallway right outside my hospital room, occasionally peering in as they talk to my team of doctors. All of them said the same thing. Retrograde amnesia.
Someone needs to call the Academy.
“Hey, honey,” Nicky says tentatively, as she walks back into the room. I suck in a breath. Back into character I go.
“Hey,” I mumble.
One of the downsides about my acting dumb is I did my job too well and now Nicky is back to walking on eggshells with me all over again when I want to talk to her so bad.
“How are you feeling, baby girl?” she mutters, her voice shaky. There are still tears in her eyes. I haven’t seen this much water works from her in all my life.
“Were they asking you more questions?”
She nods.
“About him?”
“Uh yes,” she sniffles. “But don’t worry about that.”
Here we go again. Keeping secrets from me with the whole, ‘trying to protect me’ bull.
“Are you all right?” I whisper. She’s trembling from head to toe as she looks at me. Her hand is raised as if she wants to reach for me, but she stops herself, then looks into my eyes.
“May I?” she whispers, tears glinting in her eyes as she looks at me.
My throat tightens as my heart pounds in my chest.
I heard what the doctors were saying when they were asking me vague-like questions.
If I felt any other aches in my body.
If I remember what might have happened to me.
If I had an idea of how my body came to be like this…
They were asking without really asking, but the anxiety that bloomed in my chest was worse than their inquisition because even with all this faking, I have blocked memories, hours that were unaccounted for when I was drugged.
I woke up shivering and bleeding in that freezer with a blank mind, I remember that, so now I wonder, what happened before that? Kristine couldn’t answer me.
I nod and she quickly grabs my hand and settles on the bed beside me.
“The doctors just told me that everything seems to be working as it should, well, I mean…”
My ‘amnesia.’
“I know what you mean,” I whisper.
“Yes, so that means you can leave this place and we could go home.”
Home.
Where is home exactly. To the house Courtney owns? What happened to her, anyway? But that doesn’t matter, I can’t leave here without seeing Julian.
“That’s good,” I mutter sadly.
I can feel her stare and I know she wants to say something. She’s been trying to talk about Nancy, thinking I’m struggling with the news of her death, but I think I’m starting to really accept that Nancy is gone. However, I do have one question.
“Is it true?” I mutter, trying to swallow the ball in my throat.
“What is, sweetie?”
“What you said before,” I whisper. “That Nathan killed my… I mean, Nancy?”
I feel her tense up beside me. Then she looks up at the open door, then back at me. In the blink of an eye, she gets up and quickly goes to close the door after looking out at the hallway as if to check if someone is coming.
“What are you doing?” I whisper, my heart kicking into cruise all over again.
She shushes me by placing a hand on her lips, then she grabs her bag and starts digging around for something. She fishes out her phone, then the next thing I know, she starts playing a static-like sound, maybe it’s white noise.
“Lie down, baby and pretend you’re falling asleep,” she whispers.