Chapter 16
Brittany
“I’m so sorry, Tinkerbell.” He chokes as a tear falls from his cheek, and I press down on my stomach as my sobs pull from me with shock, sorrow, and relief, so much relief, before a sharp shooting pain hits me behind my eyes, and I squeeze my eyes tightly as I gasp.
“You are aware Shadow saw this little fella this morning, right? And uh, who vomited on you?” the extremely good-looking man standing behind the couch holding my rescue says as I grip the fire poker, my heart pounding in my chest…Wait… I stop for a moment, allowing his words to wash over me.
He said, 'Shadow,’ as in my dad.
I look over him before noticing the Rebels cut, the roaring lion clear as day, and I wince.
Crap.
The brother laughs, which goes right through me, and I slowly lower the poker before dropping it on the floor.
I reluctantly admit, “Tinkerbell vomited on me, an eight-year-old collie, I was just coming home to change.”
“Tinkerbell…” I choke before I feel warm, rough hands cupping my cheeks, and I open my eyes, but flinch at the light before locking eyes with Asher, who kneels before me, concern etching his features.
“A memory?” he asks with hope, and I rasp, “I threatened you with a fire poker.”
“Yeah, Tinkerbell, you did,” he confirms with a relieved smile, and I say, “A dog named Tinkerbell vomited on me.”
“Yes,” he confirms again, his thumb gently moving along my jaw, centering me, helping the ache disappear, and I choke, “That’s why you call me it…”
“Yes, baby, it’s why I call you that,” he confirms, and my tears fall hard and fast.
“Shadow…” I say, breathing deeply.
“He’s your adopted father,” he confirms, and more tears fall as I grip Asher’s wrists.
Nothing else is coming back to me, nothing. I don’t remember anything else about Shadow, my father, I don’t remember my mama or-or…
“The kitten?” I ask as I lock eyes with Asher’s, which are full of pain and regret.
“Angel, she’s at my home safe,” he confirms, and I nod, but I don’t let go of his wrists.
His touch is keeping me together, keeping me from falling apart.
He’s my daughter's father, oh god, every time I looked in his eyes I saw hers, I just knew it, I-I… My tattoo comes to mind, and I choke, “Doc…”
Another tear falls down his face as he admits, “Me, Tinkerbell, I’m Doc, it’s my road name.”
“But why-why did I-I get your road name?” I stutter, and his jaw ticks.
“Because I’m an idiot,” he confesses as his grip tightens on me, his thumb still moving, “I never gave you my birth name, I refused because I knew I couldn’t claim you even though I wanted nothing more.”
“Then why did you yesterday?” I ask with a cry, “Is it because you didn’t want me to remember?”
“No,” he instantly denies, “it’s because I was finally righting a wrong, Brit, I was giving you something I should have a very long time ago.”
“Brit?” I question, and he wipes away another fallen tear.
“Your name, Brittany Wayne,” he says, and I nod before admitting, “I prefer Bell, but I guess that came from Tinkerbell.”
He smiles slightly and replies, “Yeah, baby, it did, just like Bailey came from your biological father's middle name, Harry Bailey Wayne. He died when you were two during a shift, he was a police officer.”
Another sob leaves me, and Asher places his forehead against mine, not letting go of my cheeks.
“Why can’t I remember everything?” I cry, “Why do I only remember that one bit?”
“Your body is still healing, Tinkerbell,” he whispers, “It’s why when we walked into Sweet Treats, I wouldn’t allow the brothers to say anything to you, I didn’t want you to go into shock.”
My eyes go to his jaw and he smirks, “Shadow, the man with brown hair and hazel eyes who you saw, he’s your dad.
He hit me after he was told everything, after learning I broke part of my promise and the man who called you Brit, he’s your brother by marriage baby, you grew up together and you love him dearly. ”
Another sob release causing him to take me in his arms, holding me tightly.
Family, I have a family.
“How are you feeling, Tinkerbell?” Asher asks an hour later, and I blink, my mind not able to catch up with everything.
We’re sitting on the bank, looking at the pond, his arm firmly over my shoulders as my head lies on his shoulders.
Nothing else has come back, only that one memory of meeting him for the first time.
His phone has buzzed a few times, but he’s ignored it, keeping his sole focus on me even though I haven’t spoken.
“Confused,” I admit quietly, and his arm tightens before I feel his lips touch my head, instantly settling me.
“That’s expected, baby,” he murmurs as his phone buzzes again, and he sighs as he gets it out and checks the ID. “Fucking, Thunder,” he mutters before pressing the green and putting his phone on loud.
“About fucking time,” the man snaps without saying hello, “I thought maybe my sister killed you and buried your fucking body. Or did you not speak to her yet and you didn’t know how to tell me?”
My lips twitch as I grip Asher's tee tightly.
It is so weird. I feel like this is normal, like this is how it is supposed to be, like he’s my safe place. It’s scary because, according to his own words, he tore that away for his club without explaining it to me.
I don’t remember any of it, and I guess, being basically an outsider looking in, I can see where he’s coming from, but if I had my memories, would I still see it that way?
Would I have heard him out?
Would I still have been too hurt?
Would he have come after me, or would he have still married the other woman for his club if I hadn’t gone missing?
“She knows, Thunder, I’m letting her process,” Asher replies to my brother and I swallow hard.
“Oh,” Thunder replies, “Can I, uh, when I can um, I um see her?”
I chew my bottom lip as I look up at Asher and our eyes lock. I don’t know what he sees, but he replies, “Not yet, she isn’t ready,” and my eyes tear up again.
He understands me.
Thunder sighs, “Alright, look, just tell her I miss her.”
He hangs up, and I murmur, “You know me well, huh?”
“Yeah, Tinkerbell, just like I know if you hadn’t lost your memories, we wouldn’t be sitting like this right now, you wouldn’t have given me the time of day.”
Well, that confirms some of my thoughts.
“I love you, Brittany, I love you so fucking much which is why I won’t lie to you,” he whispers, “I still would have gone through with the wedding had you not gone missing. Fuck, the day Dirty said he found you, I was at the church trying to psych myself up to stand at the altar.”
I don’t know this man, not mentally. My memories are basically nonexistent, and yet…
“My heart just broke at that confession, and I can’t understand why,” I choke, and his arm tightens.
“Because subconsciously, you know I’m yours and you are mine, but you have to remember, a ten-year-old and a six-year-old were being targeted, my club was being targeted,” he rasps, and I ask, “Was I targeted?”
“Yes,” he answers instantly, “and I have a feeling I know who. Dirty is trying to confirm it.”
“Your bride didn’t want me around, even after you said yes?” I question quietly, my palms sweating as he answers truthfully, “yes,” again.
“This is all too much,” I sob, and Asher quickly moves, bringing his arm underneath my legs before picking me up and placing me on his lap sideways, holding me close as I cry, my confusion too much to handle.
“I know it’s a lot, I know I hurt you, that I broke your heart, my own as well, and I know you can’t remember it all.
You can’t understand the connection you feel with me and I know I chose the club, your dad, over you, over us, but I am so fucking sorry, Tinkerbell.
I’m so sorry for not being the man you deserved.
I’m sorry you got targeted because of me and lost your memories.
I’m sorry you’ve gone months being in the dark over your life, still in the dark over it and that you don’t know whether to shout at me and run or hold me close.
But I need you to hold onto something for me, subconsciously you were trying to get back to me, our daughters middle name, the name you gave yourself, your shirt…
You were trying to get back to me,” he chokes, pressing his lips to my head.
I look down at the white shirt, and it hits me - it’s his.
More tears fall, and I confess, “I don’t know what to do, how to feel, everything is confusing me, my emotions, my actions…”
“I know, baby, I know,” he murmurs.
“What do I do, Asher?” I ask, my head too scrambled to make a decision on the next step, on him, the other brothers, a family I didn’t know I had, a family I don’t remember. Heck, my own name sounds foreign.
“You come home, Tinkerbell,” he whispers and I suck in a breath, “You come home, you see if you get any of your memory back,” he takes a deep breath and finishes, “You see if you can forgive me and my stupidity, to see if you can love me again and let me prove to you for the rest of our lives that you will always come first. Before the club, before everything, you and our daughter.”
Can I do that? Can I go back with him?
What if I don’t like it?
What if I get my memories back, and the pain he said he put me in becomes too much, even if I understand them as someone looking in?
What if this place is the only place I want to be, too scared to go back?
What if the woman he was supposed to marry goes after those kids, all because he chose me?
What if I don’t like the person I was?
“Please, Tinkerbell,” he soothes, “come home with me, please…”