Chapter Three
Alice
E verything hurt. My mind, body, and most of all, my spirit. I feel scared, lost, and confused as I sit within these hospital room walls. The machines next to my bed beep with life, yet I feel dead inside.
I awoke a short time ago having no recollection of anything, not even who I am or how I ended up this way. Anytime I try to retreat into my mind, to grasp some kind of memory, I’m met with a pounding behind my eyes and the echo of a sinister voice.
Time’s up, Alice.
Shivers of fear travel across every inch of my bruised flesh. It’s the only reason I believe my name is Alice. Anything beyond that is terrifyingly blank.
As much as I wish I knew how I ended up here—ended up like this—I’m almost grateful that I can’t. I’m not sure I want to know what was done to cause me this much pain.
The nursing staff hasn’t been able to tell me much either, but they said someone would be in to talk to me soon.
I appreciate how attentive they have all been, especially Linda. She has a kind smile and even more gentle touch. Something I’m incredibly grateful for considering the pain I’m in.
A light knock pulls my attention to the door. My head turns to find the doctor who has been overseeing my care ever since I woke up.
“Hello again, Alice. I have some people here who would like to speak with you. Are you up for it?”
I gently nod, then regret it when pain radiates through my head.
The doctor enters the room with three men following, all of them lining up at the foot of my bed. One of them is a uniformed officer, the other an older gentlemen with salt and pepper hair, weathered dark skin, and kind eyes. He offers me a small smile and a nod in greeting.
When my gaze pulls to the last man, my heart stops beating altogether. Our gazes lock and hold. With dark hair and even darker eyes, I’m held captive by a memory I can’t quite grasp, but I swear I’ve seen him before.
His tall stature and broad frame somehow fill the space of the entire room. Despite the commanding presence he exudes, there is something I find calming about him. Something…comforting.
“Miss Alice, I’m Craig Clemson, the sheriff here in Winchester.”
I manage to pry my gaze from the mysterious man and bring my attention to the sheriff.
“I would like to ask you a few questions if you’re up for it?”
“Sure.” My voice comes out rough and weak.
“Doctor Carver filled me in on your injuries and informed me that you have no memory. Is that correct?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
“But you remember that your name is Alice?”
“I-I think so.”
“So you’re not completely sure about that?”
“No.”
His expression remains impassive as he jots down notes on his pad of paper. I find my gaze drifting back to the younger man, his concerned eyes still trained on me.
“Who are you?” I finally ask, my curiosity forcing the words out.
The three men share a look before the sheriff asks a question of his own. “Do you recognize him?”
“A little,” I answer honestly.
“My name is Braxten.” His deep, smooth voice wraps around my conflicted heart, inciting a small measure of warmth. “My father and I are the ones who found you.”
“Found me?” I repeat, unsure what that means.
He nods.
“Where?”
“On the outskirts of our property.”
The reality that I was just lying on the side of the road like a piece of trash adds to the agony and confusion tearing through me. At least his familiarity makes sense now.
“Do you know who I am?” I ask, my vulnerability bleeding into the question.
Regret flashes in his dark eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”
Swallowing painfully, I look around at the other men in the room. “Does anyone know who I am?”
Their solemn expressions give me the answer before the sheriff even speaks. “No, but we plan to find out.”
My eyes fall closed, a single tear burning down the side of my wounded cheek as defeat settles over me.
“I know this must be difficult for you, Miss Alice,” the sheriff says, making the understatement of the century. “But I promise we will get to the bottom of this. Is there anything you can tell me? Any recollection of events, words, or even a voice? Something that I could start with.”
Time’s up, Alice.
Icy terror floods my veins, the voice eliciting a pounding behind my eyes. I squeeze them shut and lift a shaking hand to my temple. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“That’s enough for now, Craig.”
My eyes spring open at the hard voice, colliding with the only person in the room who seems to anchor me from the fear.
Braxten’s strong gaze never wavers from mine as he speaks again. “Give me a minute alone with her.” He doesn’t ask, he demands it. The same way his presence commands this room.
The sheriff hesitates for only a second before closing his pad of paper and slipping it into his pocket. “I’ll be back to check on you later. If you have any questions or remember anything, let Dr. Carver know and I’ll come back right away.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He dips his head. “Rest assured, we will get to the bottom of this.”
All of the other men head out of the room, leaving me alone with the person who saved my life. Braxten moves toward me, his long, confident strides eating up the distance between us before he takes the chair next to my bed.
In a sudden move, he takes my small, beat-up hand into his large one. It catches me off guard, making me flinch.
His eyes lift to mine for two beats of a second before he carefully untangles my IV cord that’s wrapped around my arm. “Better?”
I nod, feeling bad for my reaction.
“Listen, I know you’re going through a lot right now, but I need to ask you something.”
“Okay,” I answer slowly, unsure of where this is going.
“When I first found you, you told me that I had to run. That someone was coming for me.”
I frown, baffled by the information. “I said that to you?”
His gaze wanders my face. “You don’t remember that either?”
“No, but in all fairness, I don’t know much of anything right now. I don’t even know who I am.” Emotion bleeds into every word that escapes my mouth.
“Maybe not right now, but you will.”
I wish I felt as confident as him, but at the moment all I feel is completely lost and helpless.
“I’m going to find out who did this to you, Alice, and when I do, they will fucking pay for what they have done.”
It’s more than a threat. It’s a promise.
The rage hardening his features should terrify me, but for some reason it doesn’t. If anything, it makes me feel safe because as of right now, this stranger is all I have in this unknown world I’ve woken up in.
With no memory or identity—I have no one.