Page 3 of Fractured Memories

I don’t flinch, even as a throb pulses at the base of my skull when I try to remember once again what happened to me before I woke up here. Given the way he’s assessing me and what I heard them discussing outside the tent, something concerning enough happened to me. Something that would require retrieving a doctor, which feels monumental in some distant memory. Like it isn’t so easy to find access to one.

Needing more information, I push a little more with my next question. “Why is that?”

Damian scrubs his jaw as he looks away, and I don’t like that. It seems like he is debating how much to tell me, which only puts me on edge before he even speaks.

“Because I was told you suffered a brain injury.” The words come out almost reluctantly. “That we needed to be aware that you might have pain or headaches, among other things.”

I blink up at him, still feeling no connection to him. A brain injury? What was I doing that would have caused that?

He quirks one brow as he waits for my response, but I don’t give him one. I won’t be giving this stranger ammunition against me.

He shifts his weight off his right leg, crossing his arms across his broad chest without breaking our staring contest. “You aren’t going to make this easy on me, are you?”

No. No, I am not.

I don’t say that, though. Instead, I ask in a neutral tone, “Make what easy?”

His head tips back and he mutters something that sounds like, “Why did it have to be me?” I blink up at him as he regains his composure—that deep frown firmly in place—and he more barks than asks, “Are you having any symptoms?”

“Are you a doctor?”

Even in the dim light, I can see a muscle feather in his jaw. “I’m trying to help you,” he grits out.

I don’t quite believe him. But I can’t keep doing this all night—assuming it is night—and at some point, I’m going to need to rest. Which means I need to determine if I’m safe here or start fighting my way to somewhere that is.

“How about this?” I push up to my feet so that I don’t have to stare so far up at him. “You tell me what I want to know, and then I’ll tell you what you want to. Deal?”

Damian’s eyes narrow. “What do you want to know?”

“Your detailed account of how I ended up in this bed.” It’s more than I want to admit, but if I woke up with no recollection of making it here on my own, it probably doesn’t surprise him that I have no memory of it.

Hopefully, it’s enough to give me something to go on.

He’s very good at remaining expressionless as he mutters, “Deal.”

I flash him a not-so-sweet smile. “Not so hard. You go first.”

For someone who was so careful to choose his words up until now, I’m surprised at how quickly he strings together his explanation. “There was an attack at the cages, where you got hurt. I managed to get you and bring you back here.”

The cages. Something about those words scratches at the back of my mind.

But for some reason, my mouth has gone dry as I ask, “And where is here?”

He raises a brow like I should already know the answer. “The camp.” My heart kicks up, my body already pulsing with fear as he clarifies, “The rebel camp.”

CHAPTER 2

EDEN

Isit cross-legged behind the tent, staring up at the mountains that loom over the city. We’re right at the foothills of them, giving us gorgeous views—despite the toxic air that is found in this valley. I haven’t stopped coughing since I woke up, and that seems to be a common problem in the camp.

The sun is setting, and I think I like this time of day. I’m not sure what it is, but my heart feels a little lighter when I see its descent. My body feels this urge for something that I can’t place.

In the few days it’s been since I woke up, the pain in my head has subsided. There’s still a soreness that the doctor said would linger, but I’m otherwise fine.

Except for the fact that I can’t remember a damn thing.

Damian hasn’t been the most forthcoming with information. He’s more concerned about my health, making sure I drink water and eat. The way he watches me with his assessing eyes is a little unnerving at times, but he’s always careful to keep distance between us. I think we both prefer it that way.