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I blink and look at Doc, whose eyes show pain. "Brother…."
I shake my head. "I-I can't…I, fuck…." I run my hand through my hair, wincing, before I rasp, "I don't know how to deal with this. In my last memory, I was living it up, and now, suddenly, I'm in a long-term relationship, which is something I refused to do after the Kallie shit, with someone I spent two years trying to win over. What the fuck did I do that was so bad?"
Doc sighs. "It's not something that would warrant two years' worth of pain for the both of you. She took something the wrong way and decided not to speak to you about it."
I swallow. "I…fuck, I don't want to seem like an asshole, but I think I should stay in my room at the club for a little while until I can get my head around this."
Snake winces but nods. "What about April?"
I flinch. "I-I…fuck, I don't know."
Doc sighs. "Take it a day at a time. Liv will understand."
I nod before leaning my head back, my mind spinning.
Kallie and Cherrie went crazy.
Hairy is a traitor, and I'm guessing dead.
I'm in a relationship, yet she's not my old lady despite living in my home.
A little girl calls me daddy.
Fuck, my head hurts.
A few days later, I've been discharged from the hospital, and I'm sitting in my room at the club on my bed, staring at the pictures I have on my bedside table. The woman, Liv, is grinning at the camera, sitting between my legs, my arms wrapped around her as the little girl, April, has her arms around my shoulders, her head leaning on my shoulder, and she’s laughing.
I look fucking happy.
I swallow hard as I look at the other photo. It's me and Liv. My arm is extended, so I'm clearly the one who took the picture. She's lying on my bare chest, a sheet covering us both as we grin at the camera. Nothing but love shines in my eyes for the woman.
I sigh as I look down at the name tattooed on my chest and the one on my ribs I noticed yesterday. Apparently, Liv was bathing me while I was in a coma.
Olivia.
April.
They must have meant everything to me to place them on my skin permanently, yet I still can't remember them.
I squeeze my eyes shut, dropping my head into my hands when a knock sounds at the door.
I rasp, "Come in."
I don't look up when the door opens and then closes again; I don't have to. My body automatically knows who it is, yet my mind screams at me to tell her to leave. For two days, she's given me space and listened to Doc. I'm not ready for this, knowing I'll probably hurt her. She doesn't speak for a while or come closer to me, and I look up. She's leaning against the door, wearing leggings and my black shirt. Her ginger hair is in a messy bun, her face free of make-up, her freckles on show.
I swallow hard. Fuck me, she's gorgeous.
Liv…fuck, I don't like calling her that, or even thinking it, knowing everyone else does. Livvy…yeah, Livvy.
She gives me a slight smile, her bruising still on her face, making me grit my teeth, anger that I don't understand shooting through me.
She murmurs, "I can leave if you're uncomfortable…."
My heart pounds, not knowing what I want before I shake my head, and then nod to her top, hoping to distract my thoughts.
I ask, "My shirt?"
She shrugs. "I've had this shirt for nearly three years; you're not having it back."
