I smile. “Pfft, good luck with that. I don’t exactly enjoy showing people my work.”
“You sell ‘em?”
“Heck no,” I say, wide-eyed. “I’m not quite up to that standard yet.”
“Somehow, I think you’re underplaying yourself, Lucy.” Landon joins me on the seat and puts his arm around the backrest behind me.
We talk some more. Despite his lack of memory, Landon still has that charm and engagement in conversation that makes you feel like every word you say is important. Ninety-percent of the conversation is about me and art and painting and hiking. Usually, that would terrify me to have so much attention on me but not with him. With him, speaking about myself feels cathartic and significant.
I look up at the clock to see it’s now three o’clock in the morning.
“You wanna sleep?” Landon asks me softly. I shake my head. “Good.” His mouth parts to say something more but he backs off.
“What?”
“It’s…it’s nothin’.”
“Go on, say it.”
He purses his lips and lifts his eyes to mine. “Forgive me for how fuckin’ weird this sounds but can I just say I feel better when I talk to you.” His sincerity intimidates me. I lighten the mood with a soft punch of his arm and a playful ‘shut up’.
“I’m serious.”
He smiles again and the conversation continues, this time moving over other topics Landon seems to have no problem remembering… Harleys, Portland, and ‘Would you rather…?’ type questions.
It’s here in the dim amber glow of the tavern, laughing at Landon’s jokes, getting lost in his eyes, and feeling his breath near me that I find myself torn in two, utterly conflicted. I almost have him back…
And I don’t know how I’ll ever let him go again.
Chapter 5
“Wakey, wakey, gorgeous.” I nudge Lucy, who’s asleep on my thigh. She groans a while then wakes to look up at me.
“Wakey, woken,” she tells me with a sleepy smile. “The alarm has spoken.”
Her innocence is endearing.
I chuckle. “Wow. Someone get this girl a spot at slam poetry night.” For that, I receive a whack into my ribs from a sleepily disgruntled Lucy. She’s made me genuinely smile for the first time in who knows how long. I appreciate her for it.
She sits up slowly and rubs her face. I won’t lie that I’m a little taken aback by how calm she seems to waking up where she has. Doesn’t last long though. The reality of the situation hits her and she quickly stands up to back away from me.
“Shit,” she says to the far wall then turns her head back to me. “Landon?”
“Unless you’ve got a new name for me today, then yeah.” My memory’s still cloudy and I’m pissed about it after three hours of uncomfortable rest. With a sigh, Lucy heads toward the bar to pour herself a glass of a water.
She watches me a moment then cocks her head. “How’s your, uh, your head today?”
I have this persistent migraine I know ain’t a good sign but I have no choice but to endure it for now. Lucy can’t find out about it. “Better.”
“And your memory?”
I think of last week to what I go up to. Blank. I try to think of my parents’ names. Again, nothing. Where I went to high school…Where I work…Hell, even my favorite movie. It’s all white noise. “Fuckin’ wrecked, Lucy, if you’ll excuse my French.” I hope to God this Mia girl’s out there looking for me ‘cos ain’t a chance in Hell I can find my way home in this state.
“This really isn’t safe for you to put off seeing a specialist. We need to get you checked out. What if there’s permanent damage?”
“There won’t be.” I drag my teeth along my lower lip. I know I’m wrong. Fuck knows how brains and brain damage work but I can’t bring myself to go. There’s an intuition I can’t ignore, a goddamned good reason for me not wanting to see cops or hospitals trapped in my fucked-up head, and I’m gonna listen to it.
“How would you know?”
“Lucy.” I pound my fist against the table. She shrinks back a little. “Sorry. I’m tired. Just, please, not again with this shit, especially this early. No fuckin’ hospitals. That’s it.”
“But I promised Billie.”
“Well, Billie doesn’t seem to give a fuck about me and my well-being anyhow.”
“She’s just overprotective of me.”
“As she should be. Besides, she won’t have to worry long. I’m headed outta here today.”
Lucy stalls on her way back to me, her hands holding two glasses of water. “You can’t leave.”
“Huh?”
“Y—Your bike’s wrecked.”
My hands comb through my hair. That, too, had slipped my mind. How the fuck am I meant to fix her in this podunk town, let alone afford it? And where is my wallet?
My head shakes. “Fuck it. I’ll walk if I have to, hitch a ride somewheres. I’ll quit wafting my bad air through your sweet town.”
“Stay at my place,” she answers quickly. “Remember, I have that sofa bed. It’s not the best but it’s out of the way, beneath some redwoods and nowhere that anyone’ll find you. No visitors besides Billie.”
I can’t handle this girl’s innocence. I stand to meet her and put the glasses on the table with my non-slinged hand. I cradle her face as I stare at her intently, needing her to believe me on this. “Quit being so trusting, darlin’.”
“But I do trust you.”
It’s no use getting through to her. “Why the fuck would you trust me?”
“Because you haven’t given me any reason to think otherwise.”
“I might be a little out of my skull right now, but I’m from a patched MC. I don’t trust myself.”
I lay out my cut on the table, running my rough, dirtied fingers over the wrinkled, well-worn leather. There’s an embroidered logo of a dragon, the only patch that remains attached to the piece. Above it is an arc of a darker patch of leather where something has been torn off. There’s other rips in the leather that suggest a knife has been at it.
“You see this?” I ask, running my fingers over the missing patches. “Either someone hates me being a part of this club or I fucking do… I’m bad news, darlin’.”
She takes a minute to cast her gaze down along the black and grey ink on my arms— Skulls, people’s names, and grim reapers, all of which seem foreign to me. Then there’s the other tattoo of which I can still translate. “When you got ‘In death do I rise’ in Spanish across your fuckin’ chest, I’m figuring I ain’t the best company to keep for a girl like you.”
“A girl like me?” Lucy shoulders by me and switches the lights on. “Who do you think I am?”
She ties her long hair back into a ponytail. Her eyes are sleepy and her left-over makeup is smudged around her eyes and still I’m so attracted to this
chick. She’s fucking gorgeous in every way I like but I can’t pin down exactly why.
“Lucy, I mean no offence.”
“No, tell me who you think I am?”
“I mean, you seem a little naïve, a little small town, girl-next-door type. The kind of girl I think I dated when I was a kid,” I said, my head aching with little flashes of memory too swiftly fading to hang onto. “You’re the kind whose daddy would kick me out of the house soon as I picked you up for prom and, to be honest, someone who really needs to learn a lesson or two about staying fucking safe.”
I half expect a laugh in return but instead she tells me, “Fuck you.”
“Woah, there she is. Think that’s the first time I ever heard a bad word fall from those sweet lips.”
“You have no idea who I am.”
“Alright, prove me wrong.”
She scowls, probably stopping herself from mentioning a time she shoplifted some gum from a convenience store back when she was sixteen to prove how tough she is.
“I buried someone,” she squeaks, glancing up at me and watching my response.
“Oh, uh-huh.” I laugh along with her attempt at a joke but she doesn’t follow suit. I’ve offended her.
“Forget it.”
“Aw, don’t be like that. Tell me what’s the worse thing you’ve done.”
“Landon, how about you quit being a prick to me? All I’ve done is help you.”
“I’m just making conversation, darlin’.”
“Well, darlin’, I’d appreciate it if you’d fucking stop. You don’t wanna go to the hospital? Fine, I won’t take you. But you damn well better come up with a plan on what we’re gonna do with you before Billie gets here and tears us both a new one.”
“Oh, so you’re afraid of her and not me?”
“There you go again.”
“Fine!” I snap. “I’ll leave.” At that, she rolls her eyes, huffs and folds her arms. “What? I’ll leave. That’s what you want, right?”
“No, that isn’t what I want. I want you here since you can’t remember where the heck you’re even from. That jacket… Somebody might be looking for you.”