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Graveyard sighs and shakes his head slowly. “It’s strange.” He looks from me to Seer and back to me. “She’s totally fine.”
“That’s not right,” Seer says in disbelief. “That woman doesn’t look fine to me,”
“I don’t understand it, either,” Graveyards says, sounding as confused as I feel.
This isn’t good…Graveyard is never confused. “What the fuck, Graveyard?” I snarl. “What do you mean you’re confused? You’re the doctor, for fuck’s sake!”
“I ran all the basic tests, and I can’t seem to find anything wrong with her,” Graveyard says. “That’s why I said earlier that something is strange. Did you say she doesn’t remember certain things?”
“Yeah…,” I reply with an uncertain shrug. “She denies our first meeting. She says she didn’t set Bones up, but Bones swore he saw her at the club. She doesn’t seem to remember being at the hospital either, even though it’s where I abducted her from. I…I thought she was feigning ignorance….”
“I don’t think so,” Graveyard says, inclining his head thoughtfully. “I guess the pain was induced because she was trying too hard to pull at the memories. She has no history of sickness, so I’m pleasantly surprised.”
“So, she remembers her life by day but isn’t aware of her nightlife?” Seer murmurs, almost to himself. “Something is very wrong…I can’t seem to place a finger on what, though.”
“When will she wake up?” I ask Graveyard.
“I can’t say,” he replies with a shrug, and I have to hold myself back from submitting to the consuming rage in my chest and overturning his desk in a fit.
“In the meantime, I’d recommend you try not to force her memories,” Graveyard continues solemnly. “At least, not until we’re sure of what we’re dealing with.”
* * *
Ilean forward eagerly as I watch her eyes flutter open. I don’t realize that I’m holding my breath until it escapes my lips in a loud whoosh the moment her magical hazel eyes meet mine. She seems disoriented for a few seconds, but then awareness slowly slips into her eyes, immediately followed by a distinct fright that surprisingly pierces my heart.
“Get away from me,” she says in a scratchy voice and starts to cough.
I quickly pick up the plastic cup of water from the table by her bed and hold the straw up to her mouth. She quickly wraps her lips around the straw and takes long greedy drags.
I’m a total jerk for thinking about how sexy her lips look wrapped around a straw.
“Now, get the fuck away from me,” she says after drinking to her contentment. “I don’t want you anywhere near me.” I notice, to my satisfaction, that her voice sounds much better than it did seconds ago.
I put the plastic cup on the table and then turn to her with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.”
She scoffs loudly. “You’re sorry?” She snorts humorlessly and briefly closes her eyes as if talking costs her energy she doesn’t have. “What for? Are you sorry for stalking me? Or is it from abducting me and bringing me to an unknown house to be locked up like a prisoner? Oh, is it for throwing ridiculous accusations at me or for treating me less than dirt? Oh, I bet it’s for disrupting my life and keeping me from the job that pays my sick sister’s fucking hospital bills! What exactly are you sorry for, mister? I would love to know.”
“I…,” I trail off speechlessly. I honestly don’t have an idea how to react or what even to say. “I’m…I’m sorry,” I repeat lamely.
“If you’re sorry, let me go,” she says softly, and her beautiful hazel eyes water up. “Please?”
I tear my eyes away from her sorrowful depths that tug at a tender part of my heart that I never knew existed until this very moment.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I say with a sigh, hardening my heart against the imploration in her eyes.
“Of course,” Abby says with a dry chuckle. “What was I expecting? Can I at least have some more water, please?”
I quickly hold the cup of water to her mouth again and patiently wait for her to pull back when she’s had enough.
“Thank you,” she murmurs. She sighs heavily and turns her face away from me. “Can I ask what happened to me?”
I swallow guiltily and lower my eyes in shame. “You…um…you blacked out while I was asking you questions.”
“Liar,” she scoffs, sneering at me. “You weren’t asking questions. You were forcing a disgusting memory on me. It was all your fault.”
It’s your fault my son died!
You killed him, you Devil!
