There’s serious tension between them.
I don’t get it.
Did Cash tell him to keep me under lock and key? I wonder if he’s afraid I’ll wander off or collapse where nobody can get to me or something. But the way he talks…it’s like I’m not in any danger, and all I need to do is sit and twiddle my thumbs until the light bulb flicks back on in my head.
But I hate thinking this angry thing between friends is due to me.
“It wasn’t his fault,” I say, straightening my shoulders.
Cash looks at me. So does Flint, who clears his throat.
Whoa.
I feel like a balloon that everybody in the room wants to squeeze the air out of.
Still. I can’t have either of them thinking badly about Flint taking me out or fighting over this.
“He was just trying to make me feel better, Doctor. I got dizzy this morning when I woke up, remembering my maiden name. It’s Gerard.”
I’m not sure what’s worse. This tension, or that name. I force myself not to shiver as another wave of icy darkness washes over me.
“Gerard? Interesting,” Cash says coldly, adjusting his collar. The man looks like he’s very interested, actually, but doesn’t want to show it. “You remembered without any prodding?”
“She did,” Flint snaps.
Hello, weirdness. I open my mouth, but the guys are too fast.
“What else do you recall, Valerie?” Cash’s eyes soften as he looks my way again. “Anything else about your family?”
“Nothing much.” I bite my lip, that weird dream with my brother on the tip of my tongue. But somehow, I get the feeling it’ll only make things worse if I drag it out in the open. “That’s not Flint’s fault either.”
“No, certainly not. I didn’t mean to imply…never mind.” Cash nods briskly, checks the instruments inside his bag one more time, then picks it up. “Good news is you checked out healthy, otherwise. The butterfly stitches are coming mildly loose, but you can just let them fall off on their own. I doubt you’ll even have a scar there when all’s said and done.”
“Great,” I say.
“I’ll be back later this week to check on you again. I think you’re doing well enough to decrease the frequency of these weekly visits,” Cash says, lifting his eyebrows.
I smile and turn. Flint keeps glaring. I’m not surprised when he follows Cash out the door.
Oh, boy.
Watching from a distance, the air sticks in my lungs, wondering what this is really all about.
I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I’m certain they’re arguing. I consider walking closer so I can make out their conversation, but I really don’t want to hear them bickering over me.
I don’t like confrontations, yelling, bad vibes. I feel like I’ve already seen too much of that ugliness.
Something brushes my foot. Savanny stretches next to me, he’s been near ever since we sat down to search for amnesia tips.
I shift so I can reach him across the sofa, running a hand over his silky fur, admiring his spots. It’s familiar, petting him like this. I kinda like it. Even in this crazy, mixed-up mind, there’s still the cat.
Flint remains outside talking to Cash for a while. I can see them through the window every time I look up.
It’s exasperating, knowing I’m the cause of this…whatever it is.
So I lean back and close my eyes, stroking Savanny’s back, trying to focus on the soft, rhythm of his purr. Yep, this is too familiar.
Sitting alone, irritated, frustrated. Quietly venting in gentle scritch-scratch motions across this beast’s back.
“We’ve been here before, haven’t we?” I talk to him softly.
Savanny looks up, slurring his purr into a low grunting sound as he sniffs my fingers. It’s like he’s agreeing.
He’s always been my confidant. My friend, a big furry rock whenever I need grounding.
I don’t know how I’m sure, but I am.
The tag he’d been wearing, the gold pendant, flashes in my mind. I see it hanging in front of me, swinging, catching the sunlight, nearly blinding.
It hurts.
Flashbacks aren’t supposed to be freaking literal.
I’m not even sure what Flint did with Savanny’s collar, but I don’t want to see it again.
“Val?”
My eyes snap open at the booming cadence of Flint’s voice.
The nausea dissipates, leaving guilt in its wake. “I’m sorry.”
He frowns. “For what?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know. That’s as bad as lying, and I know you’d never do that to me.” I let my hand fall to the sofa. “You and Cash were arguing over me.”
“You’re right, we had words.” He sits down next to me, this roughness in his expression.
“Why, though? What’s wrong?” I lay a hand on his shoulder, turning to granite under my fingers.
“Just wanted him to take you to the damn hospital, but he insists there’s nothing they can do for you there. That and…fuck, I don’t know. I wish I could get you checked out by somebody who isn’t such a raging smart-ass sometimes.”