Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I don’t know about this, Rayne,” Mary told her best friend as they sat down in the corner booth in Truck’s favorite steakhouse. It wasn’t a chain restaurant, rather a locally owned business that Rayne had told her Ghost and Hollywood were taking Truck to for lunch.
“You said you were down with Operation Make Truck Remember,” Rayne informed her.
“I am. But…what if he sees me and falls to the ground with blood leaking out of his ears or something?” Mary asked semi-hysterically.
“That’s not how amnesia works,” Rayne told her.
Mary knew that, but she was so nervous about seeing Truck for the first time. It had been two days since he’d returned home, and other than the updates she’d gotten from Rayne and the other women, she had no idea how he was doing.
All of the other women were doing everything they could to pass on information about Truck.
The notifications on Mary’s phone were out of control.
She’d gotten more texts in the last two days than she’d ever gotten in her life.
The women all grilled their men when they came home, then reported back to Mary every single thing that Truck had said or done.
She knew all about how he’d loved the movie Deadpool, apparently especially the sex scenes.
He’d gone to the gym to work out with the guys, and was irritated because the doctor had said he needed to take it easy and Fletch kept telling him to chill out.
Casey had told her that Beatle had told her that Truck’s head was still bothering him, alternating between stabbing pains and a ringing sensation.
Mary both loved and hated the updates, wanting to see for herself that he was all right, but they were killing her. She was scared to death of what might happen when Truck saw her, but her desire to see him in the flesh overrode her fears.
“Breathe, Mare,” Rayne said softly when they’d gotten settled in the booth.
“What if seeing me hurts him?” Mary asked.
“Then we’ll call the doctor and deal with it.”
That wasn’t the kind of hurt that Mary meant, but she didn’t contradict Rayne.
Her best friend reached across the table and grabbed Mary’s hand. “It’s gonna suck if he doesn’t recognize you,” Rayne warned.
“I know.”
“No, seriously. I know you. You’re gonna pretend that it doesn’t matter.
That it’s not a big deal. But it is. I saw him yesterday in the grocery store, and he looked right through me.
The man carried me, bleeding and scared out of my mind, out of that building in Egypt, and I didn’t see one spark of recognition when he walked past me.
It sucked for me, and that’s why I know this is going to be doubly painful for you. ”
“Jeez, why don’t you get some lemon juice and rub it in my open wounds?” Mary quipped.
Rayne squeezed her hand tighter. “All I’m saying is that it’s okay to break down. I’m not going to judge you. This is a no-judging zone.” Rayne whirled her free hand in a small circle, indicating the booth they were sitting in.
Mary gritted her teeth. “I know. You think it already doesn’t hurt, Raynie?
Sleeping by myself in my bed that seems way too empty?
Waking up and turning over, expecting to see him there next to me?
Not one second goes by that I don’t regret the way I’ve treated him, that I didn’t get the chance to say thank you or try to tell him that I care. ”
“You mean you’re sleeping?” Rayne retorted.
Mary shook her head at her best friend in exasperation.
Rayne knew her too well. Either that or the dark circles under her eyes told their own story.
She wasn’t sleeping. Not very much. She’d been having the worst dreams. Some involved Truck lying on the ground and bleeding out, others starred her mama saying over and over that men were no good and that love didn’t exist. Still others were nothing but weird noises and spooky shapes that had her sitting up in a panic, thinking someone had broken into her apartment.
But she didn’t tell Rayne any of that. She simply nodded her head and tried to look sincere when she said, “Of course I am.”
“You’re such a bad liar,” Rayne told her.
“So what’s the plan?” Mary asked, trying to head off another lecture.
“You walk by their table a couple times.”
“That’s it?”
“Well, yeah,” Rayne said. “I mean, it’s not like you can drop yourself in his lap and announce that you’re his wife and you want him to take you home to bed.”
“Tempting,” Mary quipped under her breath.
Rayne smiled. “I heard that.”
“I know. Should I stop and talk to them? Maybe I can pretend to know Ghost or something and talk to him.”
“Hmmm, not a bad idea, but I’m thinking this first time you just walk by. Let’s ease into this. See what his reaction is.”
Mary knew that was probably best, but it was going to be so hard to not do something stupid—like get down on her knees and beg him to remember her.
Rayne flagged down their waitress and ordered them both iced teas and they got a plate of cheese fries to munch on.
Mary knew the fries were more for Rayne’s sake than hers. She couldn’t eat a thing, and she had a feeling Rayne knew it, but she appreciated her friend trying to make things seem as normal as possible.
Ten minutes later, the door to the restaurant opened and Ghost, Hollywood, and Truck walked in.
Mary sucked in a breath. Truck stood head and shoulders above his friends.
His mouth was pulled down in its usual scowl because of the scar on his face.
He was wearing a black T-shirt and his biceps strained against the material.
Mary immediately noticed the way his brow was furrowed, as if he fought against a headache.
“Oh, shit,” Mary whispered. “I can’t do this.
” Seeing him in person, standing tall and looking exactly like he had when she’d last seen him, was painful.
He was just as handsome in her eyes, looked exactly like the Truck who’d promised that they were going to move their relationship to the next level.
His eyes took in the restaurant, and Mary held her breath as his gaze met hers for a split second before moving on.
Without thought, one of her hands came up to press on her chest over her heart. The blankness in his gaze was a blow. Rayne had warned her it would be, but nothing could’ve prepared Mary for the lack of recognition she saw in his eyes.
The entire time she’d known him, Truck had looked at her with intense emotion, even the very first time she’d met him.
Caring, worry, amusement, love, tenderness…
the list went on and on. But him dismissing her as if he had no idea who she was almost broke her.
Of course, he had no idea who she was. It wasn’t as if he was purposely hurting her.
At that moment, Mary knew she had two choices. The first option was to set Truck free. If she let him go, it would destroy her. She would probably turn back into the cynical woman she’d been before he’d decided she was worth the effort.
Or she could fight for what she wanted.
It was an easy decision.
She wanted Truck.
She might not ever be able to verbally say the words, but she could show him every day how much he meant to her and how much she loved him.
She could be there for him. She could support him.
She could be a woman he would be proud to have at his side.
She’d show him every night how much she loved him with her body.
He’d understand. Of course he would, he was Truck.
She wouldn’t give up on him. He hadn’t given up on her when the odds were way more stacked against her with something far more serious than memory loss.
Truck wasn’t dead. By some miracle, she wasn’t either.
She was going to fight for him. She might not succeed, he might not want anything to do with her, but she’d be as pathetic as the damsels in distress she loved to make fun of in movies if she didn’t at least try.
Mary followed the trio with her eyes as they were seated. She couldn’t tear her gaze from Truck, even though she knew if he caught her, he’d think she was a creeper.
“Are you okay?” Rayne asked from across the booth.
Reluctantly, Mary looked over at her best friend. “Yes.”
Rayne blinked and then narrowed her eyes. “You are, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. That sucked, there’s no doubt. But you know what?”
“What?”
“I almost died. Twice. I had my body filled with so many poisons and crap, I would’ve glowed if someone held a black light up to my body.
I dry heaved so much it felt as if I’d done a thousand sit-ups in a row.
I puked all over myself, the floor, Truck, and my bed.
I went five days without eating anything and only drinking enough to survive.
But I beat that fucking cancer. Twice. Amnesia?
Pbfft.” Mary made a scoffing noise then continued.
“Amnesia’s got nothing on me. It’s like someone pulling out a cute little derringer when I’ve got a Desert Eagle. ”
“I don’t know what that means,” Rayne said with a confused look on her face.
“It means, amnesia is not going to beat me. No fucking way. I’m gonna fight it as hard as I fought my cancer…well, okay, there was a point when I didn’t really fight it all that hard, but Truck did for me. So I’m going to return the favor.”
“Um…that’s all well and good, and I’m thrilled you’re not curled up in a ball on the other side of this booth, but I don’t know how you can fight this. It’s not as if you can inject him with drugs and fix it.”
“No, you’re right, I can’t. But I can fight for what I want. And I want Truck.”
Rayne didn’t react for a second, then a huge grin broke out on her face, and she squealed and leaped out of her seat and plunked herself down next to Mary and hugged her as tight as she could. “God, I’m so glad to hear that.”
Mary hugged Rayne back and chuckled.
“I was so afraid you’d give up. That you’d decide you couldn’t handle this. That you’d think love wasn’t worth it.”