Ends Here

  “I’d bet my Harley it was, and you know how much I love her,” he retorted, only looking at Damien, who was glaring at us like we just handed him a golden fucking ticket.

  “So... what do you know ‘bout my father?” I cocked my head to the side. “Am I askin’ the right question, now?”

  “Leave us,” Damien ordered in a harsh tone to his men.

  They did as they were told. Bossman nodded over to me before he walked past us, followed by the suit. Damien didn’t falter, standing up from his chair, walking over to the makeshift bar in the corner of the room. Pouring three glasses of bourbon, setting them down in front of us. He sat sideways at the edge of the table, taking a long swig from his glass before slamming it down on the table when he was done.

  Bringing his fingers up to his mouth like he was contemplating what to say next. “Have you ever wondered why your Prez and Martinez are friends?” he questioned, emphasizing the word are.

  I jerked back, stunned by his response.

  “Hmm... I know you hate the motherfucker, but I’ve come to miss him. Things were a lot more entertaining when he was alive. Especially between your old man and him.”

  “The fuck?”

  “You said you wanted to know what I knew about your father. Not what I had on him. There’s your fucking answer. Now get the fuck out.”

  “You ain’t given me shit.”

  “I’ve given you plenty. I’m a prosecuting attorney for fuck sake. Can’t put words in your mouth. Won’t hold up in fucking court,” he taunted, grinning.

  “It’s up to you to find what I need and then we’ll both get what we want. Entendido?”

  I stood and walked over to the door, having enough of his goddamn bullshit.

  “Oh, and, Creed?”

  I spun to face him.

  “Don’t you ever disrespect me, again. Next time I’ll blow your fucking balls off.”

  And with that, I left. Knowing he could tell me what I needed to know, but he wanted to fuck with me, maybe have me prove myself worthy to him. Who the hell knew... He was just another fucked up son of a bitch.

  When we got back to the truck, my cell phone pinged with a text. I never expected to read the words that I did on the screen.

  “It’s Mia. She’s gone missing, again. We can’t find her or your brother. Neither one of them answered their phones. Please tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this.” — Ma

  My heart fucking dropped, and for some reason, I dialed the first number that came to mind.

  Leo.

  Fully aware that Martinez...

  Was alive.

  Six months had come and gone since I was found, and still no sign of my memory. Although I started having more intense flashes sparks of emotion when it came to certain things. It mostly happened when I was around Noah. Like he would do or say something, and I swear whatever it was had happened before. Almost like déjà vu. Dr. Garcia said there was a good chance that I had or I was developing romantic feelings toward him. The emotions he sparked within me could seem familiar, even though they were new.

  But I swear it was so much more than that.

  I began having dreams about being gunned down about a month ago, stumbling around in a daze before falling down an endless black hole, landing in strong arms. Then it would warp into losing my baby. Each one hazier than the last, making it hard to put the pieces of the memory puzzle back together. Decipher what I was actually seeing in my dreams, versus what I was feeling in the nightmare. It was all-consuming, almost unbearable some nights. I’d wake up in pure panic and sweat, sitting up in my bed, panting. Remembering what my mind wanted me to forget. Then I’d lie back in bed and hug my pillow, pressing it tight against my body. Immediately feeling comfort as if I was embracing an actual person.

  Which didn’t make any sense.

  Sometimes it felt like I was going crazy, my mind battling within itself. It was hard to feel so much and not remember why it was there to begin with. How overpowering it was to experience such deep sentiments and not know if they were old or new. Real or imaginary.

  I was extremely grateful that one thing had returned to normal though. I was allowed to go back to school to finish my junior year with my classmates. Even though there were only a few months left till summer vacation. I remember walking down the hall my first day back, terrified of the looks and whispers I was sure I’d receive, but it was the opposite. I was welcomed back with open arms. I even ran into my friend, Jill, who surprisingly I kind of remembered. We talked for a while over lunch, agreeing to get together for a mall date since prom season was approaching fast.

  I was nervous to approach my parents’ about ditching the homeschooling, but with the help of my therapist, it was a little easier. I caught up with everything I had missed while I was gone and was actually ahead in most of my classes. I guess I had my mom to thank for that since she had been home schooling me since I found out I was pregnant, saying it was easier on everyone that way.

  My parents’ were reluctant at first, afraid it would be a setback in my recovery. Not realizing I had yet to really take any steps forward. I was beyond relieved when they finally agreed, nonetheless.

  Noah and I celebrated that night at the beach.

  “I hated school. Dropped out when I was fifteen,” he shared, looking out at the ocean.

  “Well... it’s never too late to try again. A lot can change in five years.”

  “Mia, it ain’t normal that you want to go back to school, pretty girl,” he chuckled, trying to reach for me.

  I pulled away. “You just gave me a backhanded compliment. You don’t get to cuddle.”

  “Cuddlin’? That what we doin’?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. What do you think we’re doing?”

  He grinned. “Somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to do with you for as long as I can remember.”

  “Which is?”

  “Be wit’ you.”

  “You are with me.”

  “Am I?”

  “We’re together right now.”

  “We’ve been together almost every day.”

  “I know,” I giggled. “You’re a stage five clinger.”

  He laughed, big and throaty. Lunging for me, grabbing a hold of my waist before I could get away. He didn’t hesitate, picking me up off the sand as if I weighed nothing. Throwing me over his shoulder, holding onto the back of my knees to lock me in place.

  “Hey! This isn’t fair! You’re bigger than me!” I shouted, pressing my hands on his back to look up and see where we were going.

  He was walking toward the water.

  “No! It’s nighttime! I could get eaten by sharks!” I squealed, trying to break loose. I instantly started tickling under his arms, making him fall to his knees, laying me down in the sand.

  My breathing hitched when I realized he was now hovering above me. His face only a few inches away from mine. There was something about the moment that seemed so familiar to me, stirring all sort of emotions all over again.

  “I wanna kiss you,” he whispered out of nowhere.

  “So, kiss me.”

  His eyes narrowed in on my face, going from my lips back up to my eyes. “Not gonna kiss you until I know for sure you’re mine.” With that, he stood, leaving me wanting, needing to feel his lips on mine.

  The next day he surprised me with his enrollment papers to get his GED. Saying I made him want to be a better man. I think he just wanted brownie points with me, to be honest. Either way, I was proud of him.

  It had been over a month since I’d gone back to school, and things were going great. My classmates treated me the same, knowing my current condition as well as the school and teachers. Most of them I remembered, but some I didn’t have any idea who they were. It was easy to fall into a normal routine again, not feeling like I was struggling one bit. Even smiling more often than not. If anything for the first time since I got back, it felt natural. I recalled being a good student in the past, so that was probably
why it was simple to fall back into my schoolwork and classes. It was definitely the breath of fresh air I needed.

  Noah and I spent every second we could with each other. Learning something new about one another with each passing day. What made him happy, what made him smile, what made him laugh his ass off. It was interesting to peel back the different layers that made Noah who he was.

  A man I think I was completely falling for.

  The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to be around him. He made me feel safe, secure, wanted. No longer the lonely girl trapped in the purgatory of her mind. He brought light back into my life, stifling the darkness. At least when he was with me. His presence alone comforted me more than anyone else’s, but I often wondered if that would be the case if someone else were here, too.

  I hadn’t received any more texts from Creed after the first one three months ago. Chalking it up to the fact that I never replied. I didn’t know what was the right or wrong thing to say, so I left it alone. I kept it saved on my phone, pulling it up whenever I was feeling lonely. Typing out a message, only to delete it right away. I couldn’t even tell you how many times my finger hovered over the send button. Thoughts of him never drifted from my mind, especially when I was with Noah.

  My therapist said it was probably from the two of them being so similar to one another. My brain was picking up on things that reminded me of Creed. Plus, my mind knew they were brothers, and that could play a huge factor on its own. I prayed every night Creed was safe. Looking up at the stars, laying on the lounger on my balcony. Writing in the notebook Dr. Garcia gave me to keep track of my feelings. Half the time I didn’t even realize I was doing it, and that alone felt so unexpectedly familiar to me. As if it wasn’t the first time I had done so.

  “Whatcha thinkin’ about over there?” Noah asked, glancing at me while he drove my Jeep.

  “Where are we going?” I replied, blowing off his question.

  “It’s a surprise, pretty girl.”

  He loved to surprise me with all sorts of stuff anytime he could, which happened too often. Bringing me flowers every few weeks, replacing the others that had died, became part of his routine. Attaching little cards that had simple swoon-worthy sentiments on them like, ‘Hey good lookin’,’ or ‘These reminded me of you. Hope they remind you of me.’ Always signed, ‘Have a great day, beautiful,’ — A messy heart, Noah. Stirring all sorts of emotions out of me.

  “Awe! Come on, give me a hint!”

  “Alright... you’re gonna need to close your eyes when I tell you to.”

  I unexpectedly jerked back.

  “What?” He grinned. “You don’t think I’m kidnappin’ you, do you?”

  “Can’t kidnap what’s already yours,” I murmured, too low for him to hear.

  “Wha—”

  I shook it off, shyly smiling. “I can’t wait.”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah... I just spaced out for a second.”

  “You remember somethin’?”

  “No. I don’t think so. I swear... my head is just... I don’t even know. It doesn’t matter. I’m just excited for my surprise, so hurry up already,” I laughed, trying to play it off that I was fine, when I wasn’t.

  “Mia, you know if you ever wanna ask me anythin’ about the past. I’ll always be honest with you.”

  “Noah...” I looked over at him, taking a deep breath. “What if I don’t want to know? Like what if I don’t want to remember?” I had never told anyone this besides Dr. Garcia.

  He smiled, reaching for my hand. Bringing it over to his mouth to softly kiss it. “Then I’d be the luckiest fuckin’ bastard in the world.”

  I smiled, not wanting to know what he meant by that statement. Again, I was too afraid to hear the answer. He held my hand the rest of the way, sitting pretty on his thigh. Rubbing his fingers back and forth on the palm of my hand. Sending delightful shivers through my body. Noah was always touching me in one way or another. At times it was subtle, like placing his arm on the back of my chair, rubbing my shoulder with his thumb. Or when we were having a casual conversation, he would play with the ends of my hair. Listening to every word that came out of my mouth with an intense regard.

  Making me miss his touch when we weren’t together. Especially at night, when I felt there should be a presence, but didn’t understand why.

  I went over to his house a few times, spending hours hanging out with him and his mom. Laughing our asses off at all the stories she told me about Noah when he was a little boy. I never asked him when his mom finally got sober. Not wanting to dig up past memories, just like he didn’t want to uncover mine. She didn’t seem like the woman he threw back in Creed’s face at all. She seemed so loving, caring, a woman with a big heart. Still bringing me the same sense of comfort she had so many months ago. Almost like a second mom.

  We had a bond like I had known her forever. Plus, she made the best apple pie. She’d usually sit at the dining room table drinking her coffee, while Noah and I sat on the couch flipping through channels on the TV. He would snuggle me close and rub the back of my neck, right at the hairline. Making me relax into his side. I would often catch the look on his mom’s face out the corner of my eye as if she was torn between her sons. Needing to say something to me, but it never came out.

  “Close ‘em eyes,” Noah ordered, pulling me away from my thoughts.

  “This isn’t like a sexual thing, right? Because I don’t know how I feel about that,” I sarcastically stated, wiggling my eyebrows. Trying to stifle a laugh.

  “If it were sexual, you’d be wearin’ a blindfold and possibly some handcuffs. Now, close ‘em eyes.”

  I chuckled and did as I was told, impatiently waiting for what was to come. A few minutes later he parked my Jeep.

  “Can I open them now?”

  “No. I’ll be back. Won’t take long. Do not open your eyes.”

  I sat there fidgeting with the seam of my dress, anticipating his returned. Trying to ignore the fluttering feeling that was suddenly consuming my belly. A familiar, yet unfamiliar sensation Noah had inflicted more and more these days. The passenger door to the Jeep flew open, I yelped from the sudden intrusion but instantly calmed when I felt his touch.

  “Relax, pretty girl. It’s just me,” he whispered near my ear, once again stirring my emotions. He grabbed my hand, turning me in the seat to face him. Letting me go and stepping away. “You can open them now.”

  I did. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed, looking at the pink surfboard in his grasp. The words, “Pretty Girl” written in white lettering across it.

  “I had this custom made for you. It should be perfect for your size and weight.”

  “Noah... when I told you that my board didn’t fit me anymore, I wasn’t saying for you to buy me one. That’s a Channel Islands surfboard, it must have cost you a small fortune.”

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head over that. You’re worth every penny and then some,” he replied, smiling. “You said you remembered how to surf, but ya haven’t been hittin’ the waves cuz you didn’t have a board that fits. So, I got one for you. I wanna watch you kick ass out there in the water.” He nodded to the ocean. “Drove us all the way over to Ocean Island Beach, the forecast predicted the best waves here today.”

  “Wow. I don’t know what to say, but thank you so much. It’s beautiful.” Without any thought, I jumped out of my Jeep and wrapped my arms around his neck, squeezing him tight.

  “You’re fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured in my ear before I pulled away.

  I smiled, looking around the beach. “I don’t have a bathing suit. I guess we could find a shop around here.”

  “Took care of that, too.” He opened the back door of my Jeep, pulling out a gray bag that had towels, sunscreen, and a new pink bikini for me.

  Instantly bringing back those reoccurring feelings by seeing the bag and its contents.

  “I see a running theme here. You like the color pink, Noah?” I teased, smirki
ng at him. Holding up the bathing suit.

  “You love pink. It’s your favorite color.”

  “Oh...”

  “Will you wear it for me? So I can see a big part of your world.”

  I nodded, feeling as though this had happened before. All of it seemed so familiar. The ocean, the surfboard, and the pink bikini all hit me at once. I shook off the plaguing thoughts, not wanting to ruin the moment. It was such an amazingly sweet gesture that he put a lot of thought into. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin it.

  I changed in the restroom at the beach, noticing immediately that the bikini left very little to the imagination. I was grateful it at least covered my faint C-section scar. The only reminder I had of my pregnancy. Other than that, I didn’t look or feel like I was ever pregnant. Noah and I hadn’t spoken about our baby girl since we laid her to rest six months ago. Neither one of us had breached the subject, not even one time. I think we were both scared to bring it up, afraid it would make it too real. Both of us pretending it never happened were easier.

  A piece of each of our hearts was buried with her that day. But she was not forgotten, I had the daily reminder every time I looked at myself in the mirror. One day my mom had noticed me looking at the scar while I was laying out by the pool. Rubbing my fingers against the taut skin. Before she could question me about it, I simply asked her if she could find me a cream that would help take the scar away.

  Hoping if it was out of sight, it would be out of my mind, too. I turned my face away from her as soon as the question left my lips, not wanting to see the look on her face. She made an appointment for me at a cosmetology center a few days later. After a few sessions of laser treatments, it’s barely noticeable anymore. You couldn’t see it unless you knew it was there.