Chapter 2
“So you really don’t remember nothin’?” the woman asks. She’s short and stocky with brown hair, gray roots grown out about an inch, and skin like leather. I’m told she’s my mother, but she watches me like I’m a poisonous snake about to strike.
I wince from a stab to my shoulder as I try to adjust myself to a sitting position in my lumpy hospital bed. “You, um, look familiar,” I lie. “But I have no memories. My mind is just… empty.”
The doctor jots something down on her clipboard.
“She has all of her cognitive functions and remembers basic physics. She knows that there are twelve months in a year and that the earth is round. It’s the personal relationships she can’t remember.
It’s called retrograde amnesia. It’s quite common with brain injuries. ”
“So her brain don’t work no more? How’s she gonna hold a job or drive?”
The doctor looks at my mother, stunned. “Are you sure you’re equipped to handle Roxy’s recovery? She needs regular supervision, and you might need to make ADA adjustments to your home. It requires care and patience.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Oh, she’ll be fine. Roxy’s always been tough as nails. Adaptable that one is.”
It’s strange hearing them talk about me while I’m in the room. My own name sounds foreign. But this woman’s crass behavior seems like something I’ve experienced before. I can’t put it into words. It’s just an instinct. I don’t like her. My guess is I never have.
“When can I leave here?” I ask.
“We’ll be discharging you later today,” the doctor replies with a tight smile that looks more like pity than kindness.
I breathe a sigh of relief. I’ve been cooped up here for weeks.
With its green walls and yellow lighting, this place gives me the creeps.
I glance around the room and can’t help but feel like something crucial is missing.
I vaguely remember a voice talking to the doctor when I was in and out of sleep.
“There was a guy in here earlier… Who is he to me?”
My mother arches an eyebrow at the doctor. A warning. “Just some asshole you were living in sin with. He’s the one who did this to you, Rox. He ruined your life.”
“So he’s my boyfriend? I should talk to him first.” I’m confused as to why he’s not still here. Were we happy? In love? Why can’t I remember him?
The doctor frowns. “He’s too unstable for you to be around, Miss Luna. Punk Wilder has a history of violence and substance abuse. Your mother thought it best if he stayed away.”
The sound of his name in her mouth rubs me the wrong way. I don’t know why. Chills snake up the backs of my arms. “I feel so… empty,” I murmur.
“You’re probably hungry. A girl can’t survive on kale and whatever else you bougie new age girls eat out here.” She snickers.
It’s the doctor’s turn to roll her eyes, her grip around the clipboard tightening. “The empty feeling you are experiencing is most likely due to losing your identity. In time, with rest and therapy, I believe it will come back. But there are no guarantees. I’m sorry.”
So that’s it. I’m the empty, broken girl without a past. “I need to see him. If we had a life together, I can’t just leave town without speaking to him.”
“That’s not possible.” The doctor glares at my mom.
Gloria Luna shrugs her hunched shoulders. “I filed a restraining order against him so he can’t get within a hundred feet of you.”
I have the sudden urge to punch this woman. “What the fuck for? Did he hurt me on purpose? The police said it was an accident.”
As my mother fidgets with the zipper of her purse, I notice nicotine stains on her fingers.
“No, it’s still under investigation. You gotta be safe more than sorry, Rox.
If your stepdaddy were here, he’d say the same thing.
Don’t want you ending up dead like him. But thank god for that life insurance policy.
I got us a nice little house in the valley. No more trailer parks.”
My stomach knots. There’s something not right about any of this. “I’m a grown woman. You… you told me I’m twenty-five, right? How can you file a restraining order on my behalf?”
“Because you were in a coma, and I’m your goddamn mama.
This nice doctor lady has put you in my legal care.
I can do whatever the hell I want to keep you safe.
And until your memory comes back, you will live under my roof and obey my rules.
I got the court papers right here in my purse if you don’t believe me. ”
Fuck. This is a fucking nightmare.
I tune out the rest of their conversation and pretend to drift off to sleep until they both finally leave.
As soon as the door shuts behind them, tears stream down my face.
I can’t get a grip on my emotions. It’s bad enough that I don’t remember anything about my own life, but now I’m basically going to be a prisoner in a strange woman’s home.
She may be my mother, but I can tell she doesn’t like me much. That empty feeling returns. I hug my arms to my chest. What if Punk Wilder truly loves me? My breath hitches when something buzzes next to me.
Holy fuck, I have a phone. They didn’t take it from me.
Maybe I’ll find some answers in here. I click on the screen to reveal a bunch of new text messages from an unknown number.
The only messages in the whole damn phone.
Which means the others were deleted while I was unconscious. Probably by Mommy Dearest.
I gasp and cover my mouth when I read them. Fuck.
You blocked me? What the fuck, Roxy? I thought we agreed we weren’t going to play that game again. You’re my girl. You should trust me.
This is my new number. And I will get another one if you block me again.
My hands shake as I scroll down. Is he insane? Didn’t anyone tell him I have amnesia?
You know I’m the only one who can make you better. I love you so fucking much. I can’t live without you.
Bile inches up my throat. Each message is more unhinged than the last.
I own you whether you remember or not. And I deserve a fucking phone call.
Sweat beads down my back as my heart monitor ticks up, recognizing the increase in my pulse. I’m too scared to reply back, but I’m even more worried about what will happen if I don’t. Will he come for me?
I will not let you break your promise to me, pretty girl. I’ll kill you before I ever let you go.
My stomach drops. I gag on my own saliva as I try to breathe through the panic. Fuck. Maybe Mama’s right. If he’s as dangerous as she says, leaving town might be the best thing for me. At least until I get my memory back.
But when I rub my thumb over the screen, a little tingle flickers in my core. “Punk,” I murmur softly. His name rolls off my tongue like I’ve said it a thousand times before. But his words are threatening. Unstable. There’s no way I can go anywhere near him.
When I wake up again, there’s a tall, slender blonde girl hovering over me. I blink a few times to clear the sleep from my eyes. “Um… Hi.”
“Oh, Roxy,” she cries. “Is it true? You don’t remember anything?” With big blue eyes and thick, glossy lips, this girl is gorgeous.
I push myself up to a sitting position and take a big sip from the glass of water I find on the tray beside my bed. “Sorry. I have no idea who you are.”
Her face falls. “I’m Juniper. Your best friend, bitch. How the fuck did this happen?”
My head is pounding, and her shrill voice isn’t helping. “I was thrown from a motorcycle. They say I’m lucky to be alive. But I don’t really feel lucky right now.”
Juniper clasps her mouth. “Oh shit. Where’s Punk? Was he driving? Is he okay?”
The familiar way she says his name irks me. “You mean the psycho who almost got me killed? My mama had him thrown out. He’s not allowed to come within a hundred feet of me. But he keeps blowing up my phone with bizarre messages.”
She slumps down in the chair next to me. “Your mom is here? Roxy… you can’t stand her. She let… fuck. I-I should let you rest.”
A trickle of fear twists in my gut. “What were you going to say? What did she do?”
Juniper folds her hands in her lap and looks away. “Nothing. She just wasn’t there for you when you needed her.”
I sigh. “Well, maybe she wants to make up for it now. I’m going to stay with her for a while. At least until I get better.”
A strangled sob erupts from the girl’s throat. “No! You can’t go back to Crimson Valley. That’s not what you would want. Trust me. I’m your best friend. Please don’t leave with her. Just talk to Punk.”
I ball my fists. There’s a fury inside me I can’t place. A rage that’s simmering below this blank slate in my mind. “It’s already been decided. Besides, she has a court order. I have no choice. We are leaving tonight.”
She sniffles through a reluctant nod. “We had so many plans this winter. Halloween, Christmas… Look, Punk has money, Roxy. Like a lot of it. Maybe he can get you a lawyer to get you out of this. Please. He loves you so much. We all do.”
It’s a weird feeling to have a stranger look at you with expectation. She has all these memories and feelings about me, and I’m just indifferent. “So he’s not unhinged? Tell me. What were we like together?”
Her lip twitches. “Um. Well, I mean, he is obsessed with you. Sometimes I thought it was too much. But you were just as wild about him.”
My stomach knots. Great. Our love was toxic. Consuming. I can’t picture his face, but it hurts to breathe every time I hear his name.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry but he’s a stranger to me right now. And his texts are next-level cray-cray… Which is why I need you to do me a favor.”
She jerks forward and grabs my wrist. “Anything.”
I swallow hard as another sharp pain twists its way into the base of my neck.
“Can you bring me some of my things? I don’t need much.
Just some clothes and a few essentials… I don’t want to deal with Punk.
” All I have in this room is the hospital gown I’m wearing.
They had to cut my clothes off me when they brought me in.
Juniper wipes the tears from her cheeks and forces a smile. “Of course, Roxy. I can do that for you.”
I squeeze her hand back in an attempt to comfort her, but it just makes her tears fall again. “Thanks, Juniper. I will try to get better soon.”
She laughs through another sob as she stands up and straightens her mini skirt. “Well, fuck, Roxy. I thought I was the dramatic one. You had to go and one-up me with amnesia. I’ll um… I’ll be back before you leave, okay?”
I nod and smile. “That means a lot. Thank you.”
As I watch her leave, a warmth fills me.
She’s lovely. I wish I could remember us as friends.
Her energy is intoxicating. I’m guessing we had fun together.
I pinch my eyes shut and search my mind.
It’s like a dream that I can almost touch.
Fragments and impressions that sit right below the surface but are still too far to reach.
But I won’t give up. I have to remember who I was.
There’s a pit in my stomach, an anxious feeling that something is way off.
There’s something wrong about all of this.
I can’t explain it. My mind and body are at odds with each other, so I’m going to have to rely on my instincts to fill in the blanks until I can get my memories back.
I glance at the texts from Punk again. That’s the only feeling I don’t trust. Because even though his words freak me out, my body’s adrenaline response isn’t fear.
It’s masochism. Like wanting to stick my hand in the flame even though I know it’s going to burn me.
I’m drawn to it as much as I am repulsed by it.
What the hell did I get myself into?