Chapter Eight.
Allegra
The journey home was a nightmare. It was taking hours, and I couldn’t sit still.
We hadn’t heard anything else since we boarded the plane and were unsure whether that was good or bad.
Damon had reported that Nana had also fallen down the stairs and broken her hip when it happened.
Which naturally meant she was in a great deal of pain and distress.
“Nana will be fine,” Aubrey said, placing a hand over mine as I tapped my fingers on the arm of the chair.
We’d scheduled a private flight home, not wanting to drag the twins on a commercial plane.
Our tempers and nerves were already frayed; having that pair loose on a minimum fifteen-hour journey wasn’t a good idea.
None of us, apart from the kids, slept properly, just grabbing catnaps, and we were on edge when the plane finally landed.
Stafford and Damon were waiting in arrivals, and I was relieved to see them.
“Any news?”
“Nana’s resting. The hospital is only letting Gramps in right now, so I’ll take you home, and you can all rest for tomorrow.”
I was so tired. I couldn’t tell anyone when the last time I’d slept was. Stafford drove us to my grandparents’ house because it would have been cramped at my old place. He took over settling the kids as I face-planted into the bed and gave in to sleep. Nana would be fine; she had to be.
Shotgun
“Shotgun, I’ve had an alert of Allegra Spalding’s passport,” Leila said, and Shotgun paused. He’d been heading into a diner and stepped aside to take the call.
“Where?”
“RC Regional Airport. Shotgun, Allegra has returned to the country.”
“Any sign of the baby?” he asked hopefully.
“None. I can’t get a lock down on the name, let alone sex. I’ll keep trying, but I’ve sent Makia to watch and see if Allegra turns up at the old address.”
“Allegra’s back for a reason, Leila. Check her relatives. Allegra has successfully hidden from us for two years. Why is she visible now?”
“Good point. I’ll start digging around them,” Leila replied and hung up.
Shotgun stared at the pavement as he tried to figure out why Allegra would surface now. It had to concern her family. Didn’t matter; she was back in South Dakota, which meant she had their child with her. And that’s what mattered.
Allegra
I was still bone-tired, but far happier after visiting Nana. Nana’s stroke hadn’t been as bad as we feared, although the broken hip was a worry. Doctors were planning to release her in a few days, which was wonderful.
Now that I was assured Nana was safe, I was planning to return to the yacht.
Each day I spent here risked the chance of Shotgun, Rain, or someone from Hellfire crossing my path.
That wasn’t an acceptable risk. Nana had already told me to head back out, but I was delaying until she got released.
As soon as Nana was home, I would leave.
Tiredly, I walked across the parking lot heading to the vehicle that Gramps had lent me when my worst fear was realised. A tall, muscled figure stepped between me and it, and I stared wordlessly at Shotgun.
“Nothing to say?” he demanded.
“Nope. Get out of my way.”
“That’s it?” Shotgun shouted, sounding furious.
“What do you want me to say? Oh, hey, you look great. Nice seeing you. Let’s do this again. Never.”
Shotgun looked surprised. “You’re pissed at me?”
“Give Sherlock a medal.”
“You fuckin’ left South Dakota, fled the damn country with my child, and you’re angry?” Shotgun spat incredulously.
“What kid?” I demanded, and he paled. I realised how my words could be taken, but refused to retreat. “You said there was no pregnancy. Remember calling me a liar, declaring I wasn’t pregnant and was being manipulative. What fuckin’ baby, as it was just my imagination!” I shouted.
Shotgun stepped aside and seemed to realise how angry I actually was.
“You come here, to the hospital Nana’s in, talking about a kid you stated didn’t exist? Fuck you, asshole,” I ranted. A crowd was gathering, and Shotgun hated that.
“Calm down, Allegra,” he muttered, glancing around.
“Still care more about them than me, don’t you?” I began to laugh bitterly. “Holy shit. I don’t believe this.”
“Lower your voice.”
“Why?” I shrieked. “You don’t want people to know how a hero of the Rapid City War fucked over his girlfriend?”
Shit, Shotgun had pressed the button, and I was unable to stop.
My desire, in that moment, was to harm Shotgun as much as he had hurt me.
I needed Shotgun to bleed as I’d bled. Pain bubbled in my throat, and I wanted to scream and scream to release it, but I couldn’t.
Not in public, but I could make Shotgun pay like I’d paid ever since he chose Hellfire and strangers over me.
People were filming us, and I honestly didn’t care.
“Allegra,” he growled out.
“What, Shotgun?” I continued at a shriek. “What? Is it best if your adoring fans don’t realise how I begged you not to go? How I pleaded for you to put our unborn baby first? Don’t want them hearing how you claimed I was lying and a manipulative bitch? What, Shotgun, what?”
Defenceless against the agony, I couldn’t stop it spilling out. Two years ago, Shotgun and Rain had ripped me in half, and I still hadn’t healed. Hot tears spilt, and I choked on a sob.
“Don’t want anyone to know how you put Hellfire before your woman and the mother of your child?
That’s what you’re worried about, Shotgun?
What about how you dismissed my fears and worries and claimed I was lying about being pregnant to keep you home?
Guess that doesn’t matter because it doesn’t affect your public image.
Fuck you. You threw me away, so you aren’t allowed to come back and give me shit.
Christ, you’re worse than my parents ever were.
At least I knew where I stood with them, and they didn’t lie and try to gaslight me. ”
Angry beyond belief, I shoved past and unlocked the car, dashing tears from my eyes. I need the last word.
“I loved you. Took a huge chance on you. I’d have given you everything, and you shit on me because my opinion and feelings didn’t count. Well, now you don’t matter. Stay the fuck away.”
“Allegra, I’ll contact lawyers. If there’s a kid, I’ve got rights. Selfishly keeping them from me isn’t right or fair. My lawyer will be in touch,” he spat back.
I stared. “If there were a child, you’d abandon it like me.”
“You can’t believe that!” Shotgun yelled.
“Why not? You’ve proved Hellfire, and strangers come before your family. Nothing I just said made the slightest difference. God, you’re a total cunt.”
On that note, I climbed into the car and sped off. Fuck Shotgun, fuck everyone. I’d be booking the earliest flight out.
◆◆◆
The first sound I became aware of was beeps.
Steady, short ones, a monitor of some kind.
My head felt heavy and woolly, and I raised a hand and found a bandage on it.
Did that mean I’d had an accident? The next thing was the chilled air, not cold but not warm.
There was murmuring nearby, as if people didn’t wish to disturb me.
Wincing, I forced my eyes open and blinked into the dim light. Even that hurt.
Um, interesting, I was in a hospital room; I recognised that much. A woman in a white coat and an older man dressed in jeans and a button-down stood at the end of my bed talking.
“Hey,” I croaked and tried licking my lips. God, my mouth was so dry.
“Honey, you’re awake!” the guy cried, moving towards me.
I flinched away. Who was he?
The lady reached out and stopped him.
“Hi there. I’m Doctor Rose. How are you feeling?”
“Confused, dizzy, muzzy-headed. Did something happen?”
“You were in a car accident. You had a serious head injury and were placed in a medically induced coma for two days.”
“Don’t remember.”
“That’s not unusual. Don’t force the memory,” Dr Rose said. The guy handed me a glass of water, and I sipped carefully.
“Are you another doctor?” I asked. He didn’t look like one and wasn’t wearing a coat. Shocked, he reared back.
“It’s me, Gramps,” he exclaimed.
“Who?”
Dr Rose looked concerned. “What’s your name?”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Where my name should have been was a blank space.
“No!” I cried as panic built. I racked my brains further. There was nothing: no name, address, age, or any sense of who I was.
“Allegra!” the man called as darkness encroached.
I happily fled back into it.
◆◆◆
“So, you’re my brother?” I asked a day later.
Thatcher looked pained. “Yes. Don’t you remember anything? None of us?” Thatch sounded incredulous.
“Sorry, I’ve got zilch.” Panic swirled, and I slapped it down. Not today.
“Shit, Allegra, I don’t know what to do,” he exclaimed, running his hands through his hair.
“Neither do I,” I replied, somewhat amused.
Yesterday had been full of alarm, fear, and shock.
This morning, I was more resigned. The doctors initially believed I had post-traumatic amnesia.
But as it was coming up to nearly twenty-four hours, and I remembered absolutely nothing, they were growing more concerned.
Today, I’d opted to take a different approach.
Make fun of this and don’t let the fear beat me.
Unsure if I was acting normally, I decided to be upbeat.
Guess I got to pick my moods. Dr Rose had discussed with a brain specialist whether there was possible retrograde amnesia.
The neurologist claimed it was too early to diagnose, but there were worrying signs present.
“Seriously, who gets a chance at a fresh start?” I teased.
“That’s not funny. Do you even remember the twins?” Thatch demanded, and I paused.
“Huh?”
“Shit, nobody told you? Allegra, you have a boy and a girl, fraternal twins; they’re seventeen months old, Allegra. Wade and Darcy,” Thatch exclaimed in frustration.
“Children,” I whispered. Finally, my joking faded, and I realised how serious this was.
“Do I have a husband? Were they with me in the accident?”