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Walt
Tuckerthoughtitwas best to take a road trip to Glenn Royal to see if anything there will trigger fresh memories. I’m surprised to see the weird nerd from yesterday waiting with luggage. Everest looks even jumpier than the last time I saw her. I didn’t think there was a higher level of fear, yet the tiny woman with the big eyes shows me I’m wrong. Then again, what do I really know lately?
I know how to fight. That came back like muscle memory. I feel like its something I would do often. Tucker had me sparring with his men over the years to keep my skills sharp and see if it helps with my memory, but I used to think I was somehow fighting myself. It was a weird feeling until I remembered I have a brother. I don’t know if my mind is playing tricks on me or if I’m a twin, but every time I try to picture Whit, I just imagine another version of me with less hair.
“What is she doing here?” I ask Tucker as I take in her small stature.
She looks ready for a road trip with her jeans, t-shirt, and tennis shoes. Cute and neat. Expensive brands but nothing attention-grabbing. She has curves, though. My perusal somehow sends her to the other side of the car as if she needed to put a ton of metal between us.
“Staring isn’t nice. Tucker should’ve told you.”
I’m not sure if she’s shrinking or crouching down to fall completely out of my sight. Strange cookie. Still, it’s odd that a woman would shy away from my attention. I don’t know how I know, but I feel that isn’t the norm for me.
“She was attacked. She’s under my surveillance until we can figure out who’s trying to kill her. It’s good that she can go somewhere and lie low.”
I nod. For some reason, it bothers me more than I should that it gave the little flight risk another reason to fear her own shadow.
We climb inside the SUV and she buckles herself in the backseat.
“Do you need a booster seat?” I tease her. I can’t help it. She amuses me.
She glares at me, then snaps her head in the opposite direction once she realizes we’re caught in a stare down.
Maybe I’m using her as a distraction from what’s happening. This trip can either be life-altering or another frustrating dead-end, like the last four years. My leg bounces again. Tucker has told me to be patient with my brain because frustration is not going to help the process. It’s just I feel like some pod person who hatched one day. I don’t know which day. Four missed birthdays. Four years of missed memories with my son; I know I was loved, but I don’t know by who. I hurt for them the way I hurt for myself. I zone out for at least an hour before I remember the bad feeling I had last night.
“Tucker. Last night. I was watching the news, and they did an update about some woman - Anika Cambridge. I wrote her name down-getting a guilty conviction for trying to have her husband killed. Was she famous? When they flashed her picture, I got antsy and turned off the television.”
“She sounds more infamous than famous. I’ll have my men look into it. How did that make you feel?”
“It felt like it was natural for me to hate her. I felt a little scared, yet angry. I wanted to hit something.”
“And after you turned off the television?”
“The feeling eased, and I relaxed.”
He glances at me for a second. “Interesting.”
Tucker pauses to accept a call from his wife and her husband. Yes, that’s exactly what they are. Then he makes a call to Günter, his right-hand man.
Shifting gears, I opt to focus on what I know. A quick internet search tells me that Glenn Royal is a small California town near a lake. According to the specs online, it’s not an easy place to live without money. Was I rich?
Tucker is off the phone, and the music provides background noise. I think the cupcake in the backseat is trying not to sing, but that question jumps around my brain.
“Tucker, what are the odds of me being rich?”
Tucker keeps his eyes straight, focusing on the road as he drives. “Well, since we found you in designer clothes, I’d say high.”
“Sweet.”
While I’m still struggling to remember things, I have a feeling I was an upbeat guy. Fun. I hope I wasn’t an impossible asshole, sucking the life out of the people who knew me. Finally, my heart rate increases, and I sit forward in the seat once I see the sign from my memory.
“That’s it. Welcome to Glenn Royal. I feel like I saw it a lot! Like I visited here often.”
“My family lives in a nearby town,” Everest says like an afterthought.
I ignore that since it doesn’t help me, but a house catches my attention. “Stop here, please.”
I stare at the house. I feel like I lived there or visited it often, but deep down I didn’t consider it home. A black girl with braids runs to her Toyota like she’s late. Something about her is familiar. Like maybe I knew her when she was younger and her hair would be puffy and all over her head.
