Chapter 6
Six
Kelly
My mind is a puzzle with a missing center piece.
The light in the hospital room is soft when I wake again, pale morning sun filtering through the blinds. It should feel comforting, warm, gentle.
It doesn’t. Everything inside me feels… wrong. Muted. Shifted half an inch to the left. Like the world knows something I don’t.
The beeping beside my bed is steady — too steady — compared to the thundering panic in my chest. I blink slowly, trying to orient myself. It takes effort, like lifting my eyelids is a job they aren’t qualified for.
Car. Truck. Pain. Dark. Fear.
The memory comes in a wave that makes my stomach heave.
I push the heel of my hand into my forehead. The pressure does nothing to ease the pounding behind my eyes.
“Hey. Easy.” The voice is deep. Gravelly. Familiar in a way that shouldn’t be possible.
I turn my head too fast and a spike of pain shoots up my spine. But I ignore it, because he is there.
Standing near the door, arms crossed over his chest like he’s been guarding the room all night.
Ledger.
The name feels heavy on my tongue, like it should mean everything, and instead it means nothing. He looks tired. More than tired. Haunted.
His dark shirt is stretched across his shoulders, his cut hanging open like he threw it on without thinking. His jaw shadowed like he didn’t bother shaving.
But it’s his eyes that hit me the hardest.
Stormy. Fierce. And fixed on me like he’s terrified to look away.
My throat goes dry. “You’re still here.”
He doesn’t smile, doesn’t shift his weight, doesn’t soften. But something in his expression a flicker of warmth or relief appears for just a second.
“Yeah, sunshine,” he mutters quietly. “I’m here.”
Sunshine. Again.
The nickname rolls through me like a warm breeze over cold skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps. My stomach flips, nausea and something else something unfamiliar but undeniably good mingling together.
“You should rest,” he adds, voice low and rough. “Doctors said you had a long night.”
“You didn’t have to stay.”
His jaw clenches. “I wasn’t leavin’.”
I swallow hard. “Even when I didn’t remember you?”
His eyes darken. “Especially then.”
A thickness forms in my chest. Confusion. Gratitude. Fear. Something like longing, though I don’t understand where it comes from. I don’t know this man. But my body reacts to him like it does.
A knock interrupts the moment, and a woman with a clipboard steps inside — pretty, blonde hair pulled into a neat ponytail, blue scrubs crisp.
“Morning, Kelly. I’m Dr. Salazar, the neurologist on call.”
She gives Ledger a quick glance assessing and cautious before turning her attention to me.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like my head’s filled with concrete.” I admit. “It’s heavy.”
She smiles sympathetically. “That’s expected. You took a significant blow to the left side of your head. The good news is that your scans look clean. No bleeding. No swelling. Your memory loss appears to be what we call selective retrograde amnesia.”
Ledger stiffens, but stays silent.
I swallow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning the memories closest to the event, sometimes emotionally charged ones as well, are temporarily inaccessible. They often return with time, rest, and reduced stress.”
Emotionally charged?
My eyes flick to Ledger. He looks away.
Oh. Oh. My chest tightens. “So I’ll remember everything in time?” I ask.
“Most likely,” she shares gently. “Amnesia caused by trauma is rarely permanent. Your brain is protecting itself. Once it feels safe again, those memories may return gradually in fragments or all at once.”
All at once sounds terrifying. Fractured pieces sounds worse.
“And until then?” I whisper.
“Until then be patient with yourself. Don’t force it. Let your instincts guide you.”
Instincts.
My gaze drifts back to Ledger. There’s a tug behind my ribs sharp, insistent like my instincts are already screaming, You know him. You trusted him once. You cared about him.
“Do I,” I hesitate, cheeks warming. “Do I have a husband?”
The doctor waits for Ledger to answer.
He doesn’t. His eyes stay locked on the floor.
“Kelly,” Dr. Salazar states gently, “relationships, responsibilities, and daily life may take a little while to come back into clarity.” She looks over my file. “Your emergency contact entered by EMS was a woman named Ally and it’s noted she’s your employer.”
I remember Ally, sort of. I know we are friends and I remember helping her open her business. But when that occurred I can’t recall. Heat creeps up my chest. I don’t know why I’m embarrassed. Maybe because I expected something. A boyfriend. A partner. Someone who would obviously rush here.
Instead, I woke up to him. A man who wasn’t listed anywhere. A man my brain erased.
The doctor continues gently, “We’d like to keep you one more night for observation.”
“One?” Ledger snaps. “That’s it?”
Dr. Salazar straightens slightly. “We will adjust if necessary. But her vitals are stable, and as long as she’s not alone at home, she should recover comfortably.”
“She won’t be alone,” Ledger replies instantly.
My breath catches.
The doctor nods slowly. “Good. She’ll need someone to help with day-to-day tasks for a couple of days driving, light chores, checking in overnight for any disorientation or trouble waking. And she should avoid stressful environments.”
Ledger’s gaze hardens. “Stress is exactly why she won’t be alone.”
The doctor gives him a cautious, assessing look before turning back to me. “I’ll check on you again this afternoon.”
When she leaves, the silence stretches thick between us.
“You don’t need to,” I start but he doesn’t let me finish.
He cuts me off. “I’m not leavin’ you alone.”
I blink. “Ledger, I don’t even know you.”
His jaw tightens like the words physically hurt. “No, you don’t remember me,” he replies. “But I know you. And I know how to take care of you.”
The room feels too small. Too warm. Too charged.
“Why do you say that? Were we close?” I ask, voice barely a whisper. “Were we,” I pause feeling absolutely stupid, “together?”
His eyes flick to mine, and something raw flashes there.
For a second just one I see heartbreak. “No,” he states firmly, voice low.
The word lands like a stone in my stomach. No? Then why does it hurt?
“But we weren’t strangers either,” he adds softly. “Not even close.”
I look away, the ache inside me growing. I close my eyes willing the memories to return with no luck. A nurse comes in with breakfast and pain meds, and Ledger steps aside while she checks my vitals. My hands shake as I reach for the plastic cup of water.
He notices. He moves closer without thinking, reaching out like he’s done it a thousand times before but stops his hand inches from mine.
“Can I help?” he asks.
Something warm settles under my breast directly in my chest. “Yes,” I whisper.
His fingers skim mine lightly as he steadies the cup. The contact is brief, but my pulse trips anyway. His touch feels familiar. Unreasonably comforting. Dangerously gentle.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He nods once, jaw tight, as if holding himself back takes actual effort.
The nurse finishes and leaves. Ledger stays by the window, staring out at the parking lot like he’s waiting for an enemy to show up. Tension rolls off him in waves. He hasn’t said it out loud, but I can feel it. He thinks what happened to me wasn’t random.
I watch him silently, the way his fingers clench around the sill, the way his chest rises and falls with restrained fury, the way he checks the hallway every couple minutes like he expects danger.
“Ledger?” I say softly.
He turns immediately, like he’s been listening for my voice the entire time.
“I keep trying,” I mutter, voice trembling. “To remember. I keep thinking maybe if I try hard enough, you’ll just come back to me.”
He swallows hard. “You don’t have to try,” he murmurs. “Your head’s been through enough.”
“But I want to,” I whisper. The muscles in his jaw jump. His eyes soften only for me, I can somehow tell and he steps closer.
“Kelly…” The way he says my name sends heat through my stomach.
“What were we?” I ask, breath shaking. “If not together, then what?”
He lets out a slow breath, sits in the chair beside my bed, and leans forward, forearms braced on his thighs.
“You are someone” He stops, lips pressing into a line. “Important.”
Important.
The word settles into my bones. “And I messed things up,” he adds. “Before all this.”
My pulse flips. “We saw each other regularly?”
His expression goes taut, but he nods. “Yeah. At the bakery.”
Bakery. Flour. Ally’s laugh. Bright lights.
A flicker of something sparks in the back of my mind, then slips away like smoke between fingers.
“What happened?” I whisper.
He looks away. “We ended things.”
The ache in my chest intensifies. As confusion still lingers. “Things? You said that we weren’t together?”
He huffs a broken laugh. “Yeah. Somehow I still managed to screw it up.”
My throat thickens. “Why?”
His eyes meet mine again and this time, there’s no shield. “Because I didn’t think I deserved what you were offering,” he candidly shares. “And by the time I realized how wrong I was, I was too damn late.”
I stare at him, heart pounding. There’s a pain behind his eyes that feels too deep, too personal for him to be lying.
“You’re scaring me less than you should,” I admit. “Because somehow I feel like this should be terrifying to me and it’s not. Your words give me an odd comfort, Ledger.”
One corner of his mouth twitches not a smile, but the ghost of one. “Good. Means your instincts still work.”
He stands and steps closer again, hands at his sides like he’s forcing himself not to reach for me.
“They may have taken your memories,” he says in a low voice that sends shivers down my spine, “but they didn’t touch your instincts. Or mine.”
My pulse skitters.
“Ledger…”
“You’re safe,” he reminds again, firmer this time. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
A knock interrupts us, and Ally bursts into the room, eyes wild, hair a mess, still wearing her bakery apron. “Oh my God, Kelly!” She lunges forward and hugs me so hard I see stars.
Ledger stiffens, stepping aside but not far hovering like a silent guard.
Ally pulls back, wiping tears. “I was terrified. You didn’t come home, and then the hospital called.”
“I’m okay,” I whisper, though I’m not sure it’s true.
Ally’s gaze flicks to Ledger, narrowing. “You. Sit. And don’t make her panic more than she already is.”
Ledger raises his brows. “I’m not—”
“You exist,” Ally snaps. “That’s panicky enough.”
Despite everything, a small laugh escapes me. Ledger mutters something under his breath that sounds like sweet baby Jesus, she’s so bossy, and sits.
Ally talks fast rambling about the bakery, about calling my family, about someone covering my shift and Ledger quietly watches every person who enters the hallway like he’s memorizing faces.
After several minutes, Ally leans close to me. “Good news. The doctor said you can go home tomorrow morning.”
Before I can respond, Ledger cuts in. “She’s not going home alone.”
Ally straightens. “Obviously not. She’s staying with me.”
Ledger’s expression is unreadable. “No.”
“No?” Ally echoes, eyebrows shooting up.
“She’s stayin’ under King protection,” Ledger states calmly. “Closer to the clubhouse. Where we can keep eyes on her until we sort out who did this.”
Ally sputters. “She’s not a prisoner, and Chux will keep her safe if she’s with me. That’s King protection.”
“She might be a target,” Ledger snaps.
Silence freezes the room.
Ally’s face drains of color. Ledger’s jaw hardens. I grip the blanket, breath quickening. “A target?” I whisper.
Riot meets my gaze. “Yeah, sunshine. Someone hit your car on purpose.”
A tremor races through me.
Ally gasps. “Who would do that?”
“I’m gonna find out,” Ledger says, voice low and lethal. “But until then? She doesn’t leave my sight.”
My heart flutters painfully.
“Your sight?” Ally demands. “She barely remembers you!”
Ledger doesn’t flinch. “Doesn’t matter. I remember her.”
The words hit me with a strange, warm force.
I swallow shakily. “Ally, it’s okay.”
“It is not okay!” She challenges.
“It is,” I repeat quietly. “He makes me feel safe. The doctor said the memories will come back.”
Ledger goes completely still. Ally looks between us, her expression shifting from outrage to confusion to something softer. Finally, she sighs. “Fine. But if she gets more confused because of you, I’m smacking you with a rolling pin.”
Ledger almost smirks. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Ally groans and leaves to talk to the doctor. When the door closes, Ledger turns to me. “You good?”
“No,” I say honestly. “But I think I trust you.”
His chest rises and falls in one deep breath like I just handed him something fragile and dangerous. “Then we’ll start there,” he murmurs.
Not with memories. Not with a past I can’t reach. But with trust. Something small and warm unfurls inside me.
“I’m scared.”
His eyes soften. “Me too.”
The honesty in his voice steals my breath.
He steps closer slow, careful and rests his hand on the metal rail beside my head, not touching me but close enough that heat radiates between us.
“We’ll get through this,” he states like it’s a fact. “Together.”
My pulse stutters.
I don’t know why his presence calms me.
I don’t know why his voice grounds me.
I don’t know why he feels like gravity.
All I know is this, I don’t want him to leave.
And the scariest part?
Somewhere deep inside the fog of my mind, past the amnesia, past the fear, something in me whispers that he never would.