Chapter 7
We search the apartment from top to bottom and come up empty. Just when I’m about to spiral, Dash takes my face in his hands.
“Take a deep breath for me, babe. We know London was a chef. There was nothing she couldn’t do in the kitchen. But we also know she was writing a recipe book. Does that mean anything to you from London’s point of view…or Lennon’s?” he asks.
Then it clicks. The desk I kept gravitating toward before.
There’s a nook beside the kitchen. It’s actually part of the kitchen.
I rush over to it as fast as my cane allows and sit in the chair.
I feel around and then open a drawer to my right as if I know exactly what I’m doing and what I’m looking for.
The bracelet shines up at me from on top of a notebook.
It says exactly what my memory told me it did.
“Good. You found it. What do they mean again?” he asks as I embrace this small victory.
I hold them side by side. “They mean we were with each other in spirit doing the things we loved so we could remind each other of what we would say in moments of doubt or need. One is for protection for obvious reasons; the other was about being brave enough to chase dreams.”
“And what does the mirror, mirror part mean?” he asks.
I close my eyes and smile. “Mirror, mirror is because we’re twins. Just a play on words because we are…we were the perfect reflection of the other.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say. Y’all had a very special bond, which I knew, but seeing something like this is just…wow.”
“I need to read the accident report, Dash. Can you take me to see the car?” I ask turning to face him.
Before he can answer, a knock sounds on the door.
“Expecting someone?” he asks with a raised brow.
“No, I don’t think so.”
Dash opens the door and Hendrix strides in.
“What’s going on here?” he asks as his gaze pings between us.
Dash just crosses his arms but stays silent, so Hendrix focuses on me.
“London?” he tries again.
“Nothing. I’m just searching for answers and trying to remember.”
Hendrix shoots Dash a glare before walking to where I sit. He crouches down in front of me.
“I don’t think you should be pushing yourself like this. It could—”
I cut him off. “It could cause more pain…to someone in this room. Or to everyone in this room. No matter what I remember, someone gets hurt. Including me.”
He stands and his hands hang loose by his sides in defeat.
I stand too. “I know what you said happened. I know I’m supposed to be London. But something doesn’t feel right. And I won’t stop searching for answers until I find them. I need to explore whatever path my heart leads me to follow. Do you understand?”
“Yes. But don’t let him sway you.”
I glance back at Dash staring at us, and before he can argue, I come to his defense.
“He’s not doing anything of the sort. He’s been nothing but supportive.
He has his doubts about who I am, yes, but he’s not trying to put ideas in my head.
He’s letting me feel what I feel. And I’m sorry, but from where I stand, he’s the only one trying to help me find the truth even if it will rip him apart in the end.
Everyone else seems to refuse to accept the possibility that I could be… ”
“Lennon.”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Don’t you want to know for sure?” I ask as I pin him under my stare.
He swallows. “I’ll admit there are some things that seem different, but you suffered a TBI. Even without the amnesia, it can alter your personality.”
“I hear you. And I’m not saying I believe you’re wrong. But I need to know for sure who I am before I can move on…with or without either of you.”
“So what? You’re going to spend all your time with him until you remember?” he asks pointing to Dash.
“No. I need to spend time with you too. With my parents and anyone else in my life who might be able to help.”
“Promise me you won’t be physical with him,” he whispers.
“Like I promised him I wouldn’t be with you? And then we kissed.”
I can tell he’s clenching his teeth because I can see his jaw muscles moving.
“I’m not promising to stay away from either of you until this is settled. Probably not even then. Do you understand?” I ask the question to them both.
“Understood,” Dash answer first.
“Hendrix?”
“I got it,” he finally says reluctantly.
It’s my turn to comfort him. I cup his face in my hand as his blue eyes focus on me.
“This won’t last forever. Please be patient.”
He turns my palm and kisses it before walking past me to stand in front of Dash. They stare at each other, not saying a word. Then, Hendrix leaves.
“Do you really think now it’s possible?” Dash asks when we’re alone again.
“What?”
“That you might be Lennon.”
I turn and glance at the bracelets on the desk.
“Maybe.”
“You kissed last night, huh,” he asks but it comes out as a statement.
I face Dash again who has moved so close I can feel the heat from his body.
“Yes,” I admit.
I can see the pain on his face. His lips are turned down.
He takes a step back. “What do you want to do next?”
“Why is it you thought Lennon was behind the wheel instead of London? I remember you saying something about the way I drove. How would you know that if you weren’t there?”
“I have a friend on the police force. I saw footage from traffic cameras,” he admits.
“Well, then I want to see it too. And the car. I need to know what the police have,” I tell him.
“Yeah, sure. If you think you can handle it.”
He starts to step back even further but I grab his hand.
“Kiss me, Dash.”
“What?” he asks in surprise as his eyes widen, and his brows shoot up.
“I want to see how kissing you feels.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he says.
“Why? Wouldn’t you be able to tell Lennon’s kiss from London’s?” I ask.
“I’d like to think so, under normal circumstances, but this is anything but normal. My heart could make me feel something not true because of how desperate I am for you to be Lennon. That’s not fair to either of us.”
“I understand. But I don’t think I care. I’m sorry, I know it’s selfish. But I need to see for myself. I need to try to trust my heart to know what’s true.”
He closes his eyes, and I think he’s going to deny me, but instead, he pulls me flush against him and leans toward my face. His hands leave my waist to gently frame my cheeks as he stares into my eyes. I’m mesmerized by this man. I feel it before his lips graze mine.
His lips lightly touch mine before actually kissing them. There’s a spark, like he’s about to light me on fire and burn me with every touch of his skin against mine. I throw my right hand around his neck, pulling him closer. His tongue flicks against the seam of my lips, begging for entry.
Once I open for him, his kiss is all that exists. He ravages my mouth and I’m at his mercy.
I pull back to search his eyes again. “Dash,” I practically moan.
“Lennon,” he breathes out the name.
“Don’t stop.”
He picks me up gently and takes me over to the couch. “Can you straddle me, or will it hurt too much,” he asks.
“There’s only one way to find out.”
He sits down and then helps me sit on his lap, taking great care to not hurt my hip.
I stare at him for a moment when I start to feel the sting of pain on my left side.
He must notice because he helps me stand before trading places with me on the couch.
He lets me lie beneath him and he covers my body with his, but he’s careful not to put much weight on me.
“Is this okay?’ he asks.
I nod and pull his face back to mine. He continues kissing my lips and eventually trails kisses down my neck. It drives me wild, and I want him right now.
My hand trails down between us until I feel the hard evidence of his desire. He stops kissing me and leans his forehead against mine.
“We should stop, babe.”
“Why? I want you and you clearly want me.”
“That’s true, but it’s not fair to confuse your heart by using your body to feel something. Besides, you probably aren’t cleared for sex right now with being in physical therapy. Your pelvis was crushed.”
He kisses my nose when I pout.
“I know you’re right. But you bet your life I’ll ask at my next appointment,” I tell him.
He chuckles.
“Well, besides that, I know I wouldn’t want you making love to me if I was in Hendrix’s shoes. Not until we know for sure…”
I groan in frustration. “You’re right.” I pause for a few seconds.
“Will you tell me what you felt?” I ask.
He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “I think you know what my heart says. But it’s not just about my heart. Did you feel anything?”
I take his hand and press it over the organ in question. “I feel my heart racing out of my chest trying to connect with yours.”