Chapter 7 Mellie
MELLIE
Idon’t know how long I slept, but when I wake up, I’m alone in my hospital room.
Almost instantly, an image of the man—no, he said his name is Heath…
and apparently, he’s my fiancé—who was in my room earlier pops into my head.
My stomach knots at the thought of him, but I don’t try to analyze the feeling.
The urge to pee registers, and I try to sit up, but dizziness washes over me. Falling back against the uncomfortable mattress, I close my eyes in an effort to stop the room from spinning. It takes a few moments, and I release a breath when equilibrium returns.
Awareness prickles along my skin, and a shiver races up my spine. “I swear, someone is watching me.”
“Rockwell.” My eyes fly open, and I see Heath standing next to my bed. “That’s a good one.”
“What?”
“You quoted a Rockwell song,” he says with a shrug. “I’m thinking music might just be the key to unlocking your memories.”
“Maybe.”
Heath rocks back on his heels as he shoves his hands in his pockets and begins to pace the length of the room.
I take a minute to let my gaze roam over him, from his head to his booted feet and back again.
It’s easy to see why I was attracted to him.
He’s good-looking in a way that should be illegal, and the tattoos peeking out from the sleeves of his shirt just add to his appeal.
“Keep looking at me like that, and I’m likely to forget that you have no clue who the fuck I am,” he says, a teasing growl in his tone.
His words ignite a fire that burns me from the inside out. Lowering my eyes, I focus my attention on my hands as questions swirl around in my brain.
My fucking broken brain.
“What’s my full name?” I blurt.
Heath stops pacing to stare at me. His mouth opens and closes several times before he finally responds. “Mellie Elizabeth Kensington.”
I nod absently. “And I was born on March twenty-second?”
“Yep,” he says. “You’re twenty-four.”
I silently repeat the information, hoping like hell I don’t forget it. “We were engaged?”
“We are engaged,” he snarls, and when my eyes widen, he takes a deep breath and audibly releases it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just…”
“I made you mad,” I say simply.
“What? No.” He rushes to my side and reaches for my hand, but he must think I’ll pull away because he grips the blanket instead. “I’m not mad at you, Mellie. Promise.”
“Then what is it?”
He frowns, and his eyes bleed sadness. “Normally, you’d be the one I turn to in a situation that I have no fucking clue how to handle. I’m, uh, not sure what to do here, and I can’t turn to you.”
“I’m—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” he growls. “You never, ever, have to apologize to me for something that is out of your control.”
“Okay.”
Heath opens his mouth to speak, but his cell rings, and he pulls it from a pocket in his cut.
“Yeah,” he says after putting the phone to his ear. “In Mellie’s room, why?” I can only hear his side of the conversation, but when his expression darkens, I know he’s not getting good news. “What? I, um… Yeah, I’ll be right there. Can you come sit with Mel?”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” I gripe, but my protest goes unacknowledged.
“Thanks, brother.”
Heath disconnects the call as he walks to the door. “I’m so damn sorry, Mel, but I have to go. Zombie’ll be here soon.”
With that, he disappears into the hall, and I’m left wondering who the fuck Zombie is. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, I don’t have to wait long to find out.
“Hey, Mellie,” a man says as he enters the room.
Glancing at him, I’m shocked to realize I recognize him. “I know you.”
His eyes widen. “You do?”
“Well, you look familiar. I didn’t recognize the name Zombie when Heath said it, but…” I shrug.
“Goddamn, he’s gonna be so fucking jealous,” Zombie says, a grin on his face, as he walks to the side of the bed and sits in one of the two chairs.
“Why?”
“Aw, sweet cheeks, Lyric is the man you’re marrying, but you don’t know him from Adam. I’m the man who feels about you like I would a sister, and you sorta know me. It’s gonna make him green. And I, for one, can’t wait to rub it in his face.”
“Isn’t that kinda mean? He said you two were brothers.”
“Not by blood.” He waves a hand dismissively. “And yeah, it’s probably a little mean, but it’s what we do. He’ll get over it.”
I’m not sure he will get over it, but what the hell do I know?
“If you say so.”