Heartstrings

  ~ CHAPTER TEN ~

  Over the last few days, Hadley kept true to her word. To embark on a journey that would help me recover my memories as well as the use of my hand. It began with setting a routine I had to follow daily. We did physical therapy over coffee, cognitive therapy after lunch, and the evenings were saved for personal time.

  I’d intended to use the latter to play guitar, but it hadn’t worked out thus far. It never failed to get caught up in a conversation with Hadley, and each evening I knew a little more about her, like how she lived in Cincinnati before Brighton hired her.

  While she didn’t revisit the topic of her scars or how she got them, I sensed sadness in her. I think it’s what drew me to her the most. Something had happened to her¸ something that changed more than her body. It changed her heart.

  Losing the use of my last three fingers did the same to me. The scars that remained would fade in time, much like hers, but I’d always have them. And though she and I may have acquired them differently, scars were scars. They were physical signs of trauma and emotional reminders of heartache.

  A sharp searing pain spread over my hand. It ripped away my thoughts as I gritted my teeth. “Ouch.”

  “Sorry.” Hadley’s hand stilled. She lowered my arm to the table and observed me. “No pain no gain, hun.”

  I nodded. It’s all I could do. The burning hadn’t subsided and my words caught in my throat. I used my good hand to lift my cup and sip its rich, creamy contents. Despite the pain, I looked forward to our morning meetings. In fact, I referred to them as coffee therapy. These sessions became the best part of my daily routine, but they always ended too soon, and with Hadley asking the same question.

  “Are you ready to try the piano?”

  I declined with a swift shake of my head. Hadley frowned. She did every morning when I gave her the same response.

  Talk about a routine…

  “Don’t be so stubborn about this, Jo. You need to go back to the things you love. Doing so is more therapeutic than anything I can do. I’ve witnessed several patients regain their memory just by doing their normal routine and hobbies.”

  “But I don’t remember my routine or any hobbies. Music was my life. That’s all I know.”

  “You’re trying too hard. In life, the harder you hold on to something, the further it slips away. You’re so focused on remembering your past that you won’t allow your mind to heal. It keeps pushing those memories onto a level your conscious can’t reach.”

  I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Deep down I knew she was right, but it didn’t prevent my frustration. If I opened my mouth, nothing but negative replies would ensue. I didn’t want to feel like this. Angry. Afraid. Hopeless…

  Hadley patted the top of my hand before standing. “Listen, I know this is hard, and whether you realize it or not, you’re making progress. I was able to extend your fingers more than I have all week.”

  “Great,” I grumbled. “Too bad my mind is refusing to cooperate.”

  She opened her mouth to reply but shook her head instead. “I think we’ll try something different this afternoon.”

  “Like what?” I looked toward my cup, hoping I didn’t sound too snappy.

  “For starters, we’re going to eat out. Then we’re going to visit a few places around town and see if it triggers any memories.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “I agree. So, I’m going to head to the shower and get myself ready. We’ll leave around eleven-thirty, okay?”

  I nodded again before Hadley left the room. I was dressed for the day, but I’d use the free time to play my guitar. Maybe if I immersed myself in a song, my mind would summon Adam. I hadn’t given in to the urge to play since Hadley began my therapy. I missed it as much as I missed my brief visits from him.

  Once I heard the bathroom door close and lock, I stood from the chair and proceeded to the living room. I craved the feeling of rosewood and steel, but as I rounded the corner of the living room, a knock resonated from the door.

  I froze in place. After a few weeks with no visitors, I savored the thought of someone coming to see me. Perhaps I had friends after all. Yet part of me worried. What if it was someone who would mess up the progress I’d made? Hadley said I needed organic memories, not influenced ones. If this was a friend, and they didn’t know about my condition, it could set me back.

  I contemplated knocking on the bathroom door and alerting Hadley that someone had shown up. Before I made the first step in her direction, I had another thought. If I was wrong and a friend had come, would she allow them to see me or insist they leave?

  By the time a second knock rumbled from the door, I decided I’d take my chances. A few quick strides across the living room and I was holding the knob in my hand. I looked out the window but only saw a hooded figure. I was too anxious to discover who it was to worry anymore.

  Once the door swung open, the hooded figure spun around and a man entered my view. In a way, he reminded me of Adam, but without the striking eyes. Not that his weren’t swoon worthy. They were a darker shade than Adam’s icy ones, but just as soulful.

  His lips crooked. “Hi, Jo.”

  He knew my name…but it didn’t mean I could trust him. “Do I know you?”

  His forehead creased as he tilted his head to the side. “You don’t remember me?”

  “Should I?”

  My answer seemed to offend him. His shoulder slumped and the grin on his lips faded. “Is Brighton around?”

  Great. He knew Brighton. While he didn’t appear to be one of his old ‘crew’, it didn’t mean he wasn’t some dangerous person, or worse, the reason I’d lost my memories.

  I drew the door closer. “Are you friends with my brother?”

  “Yeah. Your, uh, your brother and I go way back.” His reluctance had me pulling the door tighter. It didn’t go unnoticed. “Relax, Jo. I’d never hurt you.”

  It sounded like the famous last words of a serial killer before they stabbed you, yet something said he wasn’t as bad as I feared. In fact, he felt familiar.

  “Who are you? What do you want with my brother?” I clung to the door. A silent prayer rolled through my mind, a prayer that involved him triggering something from my past. If he knew my name, he had to be someone I’d met before.

  “It’s me, Jo. Pax. Paxton Carr. I don’t want anything in particular. Just wanted to check on you.”

  The more he talked, the more I sensed he was connected to the memories I’d lost. I couldn’t explain why, but it sort of made sense. He resembled Adam enough that my warped brain could be substituting my imaginary guy for this man.

  “Are you a musician?”

  His laughter sounded amazing. I did my best not to get lost in it and lose my focus. “Your brain remembers a lot more than you realize, girl. And yes, I’m a musician.”

  So he knew I was having trouble with my memory. I didn’t care either way. His lips stretched wide and curled up. He had a beautiful smile. He was beautiful, period. I couldn’t get over how much he resembled Adam. Even his toned body and tattoos resembled my hallucinated man.

  It wasn’t just my face heating this time. Every part of me did. I didn’t understand my attraction to Pax, but then, my subconscious had hidden things from me. Was I in a relationship with him?

  “You seem to know a lot about me, Pax. Are you and I, you know, like…” My tongue twisted tighter the harder I explained, but when he smiled again, I knew it didn’t matter. He knew what I was trying to say.

  He readied a response just as a voice boomed from behind him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  As Pax turned toward the sound, I spotted who’d spoken. Not that I needed to see him with my eyes. I’d know my brother’s voice anywhere. Damn it. Where had he come from? I swear, at this point, I was sure he was sitting on the estate, watching my every move.

  “Brighton, what the hell is your problem?”

  Pax retreated from the threshold when Brighton stepped between us. “List
en, I can go—”

  “Yeah, why don’t you do that?” Brighton’s guttural tone made me grit my teeth.

  “Brighton, stop it.”

  He backed closer to me and crossed his arms at his chest. “He doesn’t need to be here, Jo.”

  For an instant, I feared that my original thought was true—that Pax had been responsible for whatever happened to me. Yet the way my gut churned was enough to prove the thought wrong. I trusted my instincts. Pax wouldn’t hurt me. The short amount of time we’d spent together was all I needed to convince myself to stand up to Brighton.

  I moved around my brother. The instant I was out of his reach, I turned around and walked backwards. Brighton followed. I didn’t stop. I collided with Pax a moment later, but he braced the porch railing and wrapped his arm around my waist.

  Our closeness was enough to halt my brother’s advancement, but it didn’t stop me from glaring at him. “If he goes, then I go. Or maybe you’re the one who needs to go. This is my home.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Brighton scoffed.

  “Neither is he.” Mentioning Pax caused him to squeeze me tighter. It convinced me even more that we had some type of relationship. “Why don’t you tell me what your problem is, Brighton. It’s obvious that Pax and I know each other. What would be wrong with him being here?”

  Brighton resumed his steps, but he didn’t walk toward us. His gait was slow as he swept across the porch to the railing not far from where we stood. He gripped the rail. His jaw dented when he ground his teeth. Then he cast his attention on me.

  “I don’t trust the two of you together because you want answers, and he’s crazy enough to give them to you. I’m not risking him messing with your head, Jo.”

  He didn’t trust me? He was the one with the sketchy past.

  I fisted my hand at the thought of his arrogance. “Pax won’t say anything to screw with my head, Brighton. Having him around might trigger a memory. Every thought I regain is important to me. Why can’t you understand that?”

  “I do, but…” His face softened. He took a deep breath and turned his head toward the driveway. “Look, I’d love to be able to fill in the missing pieces of your memory, but I can’t. I won’t risk you losing your memories forever. But you are right, Jo.” His eyes shifted past me to Pax. “You do know him. We both do, but it’s not necessarily a good thing.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way, Brighton, because at this point in time, I trust him more than I do you.”

  I shouldn’t have said what I did. If I lived to be an old woman, nothing would make me forget this moment or the hurt on my brother’s face. The way his cheek twitched, the downturn of his lips, the flare of his nostrils, they all hinted to the pain my words caused.

  Some siblings never got along. Some do but grow apart. Yet a twin bond was supposed to be indestructible. My words proved to be the ammunition needed to blow that theory apart.

  “Fine,” Brighton growled. “Pax can hang, but only under one condition.”

  I didn’t want to argue with him, especially after hurting his feelings. At least he was being somewhat cooperative. Still, I needed to know what his stipulations were. I feared they would be unreasonable.

  “What’s the condition?” Pax asked the question before I could, but I was glad to know he wanted to stay.

  Brighton didn’t acknowledge him. He kept glaring at me and answered, “He can come around but only under supervision. If I’m not here, Hadley will suffice. You’re not to be alone with him.”

  He made me feel like a teenager being reprimanded by their parent. He wasn’t my father, and I wanted to tell him to go to hell but I didn’t. Any time I spent arguing with him was wasted. Besides, I didn’t want to lose my memories. After Hadley’s explanation, I understood how important it was to remember things on my own.

  Didn’t mean I liked it.

  As reluctant as I was to allow my brother to boss my life, I would agree to his terms. I glanced back at Pax, who offered me a warm smile, then I refaced my brother.

  “It’s a deal.”

  I fought back the urge to slap the smugness from Brighton’s face. He won this battle, but my anger with him raged onward in a war he would eventually lose. There would only be one victor when this was over.

  Me…

  ~ CHAPTER ELEVEN ~

  I didn’t miss the way Brighton glared at Paxton as he walked past him and entered the house. Part of me expected him to pitch a fit, but he didn’t say a word. He stood near the mailbox, shifting his focus to something in the distance.

  Hesitating in the doorway, I looked in the same direction. Nothing unusual came into view, much like I suspected. Brighton was stewing over the fact that I’d finally stood up to him. Ignoring me was easier. When I passed by him on my way inside, our shoulders touched, but even then he refused to acknowledge me.

  Fine. He could pout as much as he wanted, but he had no right. I’m the one who agreed to his terms, not the other way around. Despite not remembering details about Paxton, I couldn’t go against my instincts. I trusted him regardless of whether Brighton wanted him here or not. I still didn’t understand the hostility between them, but I was convinced I’d find out soon enough.

  Once we entered the house, the distant sound of running water faded. Hadley had finished her shower. It wouldn’t be long before she finished prepping for the day—and what a day it was turning out to be. The second Paxton Carr showed up on my doorstep, I remembered something I’d lost.

  Hope.

  I trailed over his face, begging my mind to cooperate and recall my memories. If I was wrong about him like Brighton insinuated, I needed to know. And if he was someone special like I suspected, well, I needed to know that as much as I needed my next breath.

  He made a slow rotation in the center of the room and studied everything in view. Every so often, he’d hesitate on certain spots then resume his inspection. It wasn’t until the fourth time he did this that I realized he was stopping when he came to a picture. I didn’t think much of it. Then he scoffed and shook his head.

  “Is something wrong?”

  We exchanged brief glares before he gazed toward the floor. “It’s nothing.”

  “If it were nothing, then you’d tell me. What are you hiding?”

  Shrugging, he raked his boot over the carpet. “I’m not hiding anything from you, Jo. It’s just that this place isn’t the way I remember it.”

  “See,” Brighton complained. “You two are already conspiring together.”

  “Excuse me?” I peered over my shoulder. “What are you afraid he’s going to reveal, Brighton?”

  “Things you need to remember on your own.”

  God, I was sick of this… It’s like he wanted me to shut myself in my room and never come out. Why couldn’t he be more like Hadley and at least allow me to be around things that might trigger my memories?

  I refaced Paxton, but aimed my question at Brighton. “Are these memories I’m missing so bad that you don’t want me to regain them?”

  The sound of his steps warned me of his approach. I didn’t flinch, even when he reached the spot where we stood behind the couch. “How many times do I have to tell you that I want you to remember? We’ve rehashed this conversation so much, it’s driving me insane!”

  “Welcome to my world!” Our shouting match made Paxton wince. I wanted to apologize, yet I stared at my brother. “Can’t you see what this is doing to me? If you want to help me as much as you claim then quit being such an ass. Let me reconnect with someone who knows me.”

  Brighton turned his back to me once more. He shook his head and crept back to the door. Damn him.

  “What in the world is going on?” Hadley’s voice drifted through the room. I turned in time to see her walking down the hall, pulling her damp hair into a ponytail. She glanced Paxton’s way, though I doubted she acknowledged him. She was too busy frowning at Brighton and me.

  “Which one of you wants to fill me in?”

 
“You didn’t miss much.” I gritted my teeth and looked at Brighton. He remained by the door, facing the driveway. Perhaps he was testing me to see how far he could push me before I snapped and left. I’d considered leaving several times in the last ten minutes.

  “The way you and Brighton were yelling, I’d say I’ve missed a whole hell of a lot.” Hadley’s gaze drifted behind me, to Paxton. Her lips pursed as though she were about to ask who he was, but I beat her to it.

  “Hadley, this is Paxton Carr. He’s someone who knows me, though I don’t remember him yet.”

  “I see.” She refocused on me. “So what’s the problem?”

  “My point exactly. Brighton’s the one with the problem. He’s afraid Pax is going to say something to mess with my memories.”

  She observed Brighton again, but aimed her question toward me. “And how do you feel about him being here?”

  I glanced at Paxton. He backed up to the couch and leaned against it. He didn’t acknowledge Hadley or Brighton. Every ounce of his attention was on me. His lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but he didn’t.

  I did.

  “I may not remember him, but everything in me says I’d want him here if I remembered him. I’m glad he’s here.”

  “It’s only because she doesn’t remember him.”

  I turned to gripe at my brother, but Hadley moved in his direction. “That’s enough, Brighton. You’re worried about Mr. Carr saying something, yet you bring up stuff like this. Don’t.”

  For the first time since Hadley arrived, I felt like she was on my side. I knew if I got to know her better, we’d end up being friends. Now Paxton was here. Even if we weren’t a couple, he was someone in my life, someone who cared. I had friends.

  It was silly how something as simple as companionship could make me happy. But it did, because it meant I had a chance at recovery. Once I regained my memories, I’d have my life back.

  How could Brighton stand in the way of me achieving this? How could anyone?

  My brother’s silence garnered my attention. Hadley was almost to the door when I saw him rifling through the mailbox. “Why are you going through my mail?”