He wanted out of here so bad. He wished he had another plate of food to throw, helping him vent some of his frustrations. Fisting his hands at his sides, he gritted his teeth and jerked his good leg as if he could shake his bed enough to shimmy himself free. But the sudden movement only brought pain. He nearly howled aloud from the white-hot waves that sluiced through him.
Concentrating on working his lungs until the needlepoints of agony abated, he blinked away his spotty vision when something filled his doorway. Long past the point of expecting visitors, he glanced over and blinked some more. But it didn’t matter how sharply he tried to bring her into focus, a girl remained standing in his doorway. A real, live redheaded girl.
She couldn’t be a nurse; she wasn’t wearing scrubs. And she wasn’t a volunteer either; she didn’t have on one of those stupid red and white striped prison aprons.
Jonah gawked openly.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked, startled to hear the deep baritone coming from his throat. It killed him that he didn’t even recognize his own voice.
“I—” She was a tiny thing, with wide blue eyes that made his gut clench with something he couldn’t distinguish. Looking scared out of her mind, she finally rushed out the words, “I’m your girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” A jolt ricocheted through him, and he gnashed his teeth from the resulting flood of pain. But even as he winced, his heartbeat clanged in his chest with hope.
Finally. Someone had come for him. He wasn’t alone after all. But the bitter resentment that had been clinging to him for the past week roared its ugly head.
Narrowing his eyes, he shook his head. “No. No, I don’t know you.”
“I—I know.” Her eyes watered as she blinked repeatedly. “They told me you had amnesia. That’s so…awful.”
She had a unique look. Huge bubbling red curls sprouted out around her head, bouncing as if excited.
Wait. Excited hair?
He frowned. His mind must be wigging out on him again.
When she stepped hesitantly into the room, another jolt of adrenaline skipped along his veins. He might not remember her, but the idea of her coming close gave him a strange kind of high. Was someone really here to see him? Was she honestly his girlfriend?
It didn’t seem possible. He didn’t want to hope it was true.
He remembered pretty much nothing, but a gut instinct told him curvy, short redheads with wild hair weren’t his type. Not that she didn’t appeal to him. She totally did. An inherent need rose within him, wanting her to move close enough that he could touch her and find out if her skin was as soft as it looked. But still…this just felt…off. Deep in his being, he sensed this pretty, ethereal creature simply couldn’t belong to him.
Which was too bad. Her blue eyes were so full of concern, like she really did care.
“Are…are you okay?” Reaching out, her fingers went for his hair. “I’ve been so worried.”
He hated how much he wanted her to touch him and soothe his scattered fears, so he shied his face away, unable to trust it…to trust anything.
She immediately flinched back and sent him an apologetic cringe, tucking her hands together against her chest. “Sorry. I forgot. You don’t…know me.”
Squinting, he studied her hard. Why couldn’t he recognize her? Why couldn’t he recognize anything?
“What’s your name?” Maybe a name would spark something inside him.
“Oh, right. Of course, you don’t—sorry. Tess. I’m Tess. Well, Contessa Anabelle Simpson, actually. But everyone just calls me Tess.”
When she gave a nervous laugh and fluttered her hand in the air around her like the beating of hummingbird wings, Jonah found himself focusing on her slim fingers. How many times had he touched those fingers? How many times had they touched him?
Could she really be his?
“What do I call you?” He had to know.
Her laughter died, and she went suddenly sober. “Tess,” she whispered as her slim little hand crept up to rest at the base of her throat. “You call me Tess.”
He shook his head. “I don’t…I don’t remember. I’m sorry, but I can’t—”
“Hey, no. It’s okay. It’s fine.” Those active fingers he was quickly becoming obsessed with now reached out to clutch his good arm, bare skin to bare skin. The contact pierced him deeper than he was comfortable with. His muscles flinched in surprise. “Don’t worry about any of that right now. Your memory will come back when it’s ready. Just concentrate on getting yourself better, okay? That’s what’s most important right now.”
She sent him a tremulous smile, and his obsession grew to encompass her full red lips as well as her pretty hands.
“Which reminds me,” she rattled on, letting go of him so she could dig into the huge purse draped over her shoulder. When she lifted out a paper sack with the logo of a familiar pink and purple bell on it, she sent him a huge grin. “They said you weren’t eating, so I brought your favorite.”
His favorite? That didn’t seem right. Yet as she set the bag on the tray by his bed and opened it to pull out some wrapped tacos, his mouth watered.
“Two chalupas, a beef burrito, three crunchy tacos, and a caramel apple empanada.”
Gaze shifting from between her and the food, he asked, “That’s what I usually get?”
She busied herself by pulling out each item. “Mm-hmm.” It hurt that she wouldn’t look him in the eye, like she couldn’t stand to see him so broken. Just how bad did he look? “So…which one would you like to start with?”
Overwhelmed by the choices, he eyed the food in her arms and damn near panicked. Shit. He didn’t know where to start. He wouldn’t even know his own name right now if someone hadn’t told him what it was. How the hell was he supposed to know which kind of burrito to eat first?
“I don’t—” He choked on a hoarse sob that had been trapped in his throat. Humiliated for letting his anxiety show, he balled his hand into a fist while oxygen sawed through his lungs at a crazy speed.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry.” Eyes going wide, Tess let all the burritos and tacos tumble from her arms and onto his food tray so she could reach for him again. “Don’t worry. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” As if realizing she’d touched him again, she quickly pulled her fingers back, leaving him bereft. “Here.” She snatched up a plain taco and began to unwrap it. “Crunchy tacos are always a safe place to begin a meal.” Once she had half of it uncovered for him to eat, she gave him an encouraging smile and gingerly brought it to his hand.
His fingers reflectively clamped around the bottom portion and he grew transfixed by how different his hands were from hers. His fingers were huge and beefy with rough leathery skin full of calluses.
What had made them so tough? Was he a factory worker? A carpenter? A farmer? He had no clue. They’d told him he was a college student, but these didn’t look like a student’s hands.
“Do you want me to lift the back of your bed some more so you can sit up, or is this a comfortable enough angle for you?” Tess flicked open a folded napkin as one might snap open a clean sheet to spread over a bed. After it floated down onto his chest, she tucked a corner into the neck of his hospital gown.
Jonah stared. For the life of him, he couldn’t imagine dating a girl who mothered him. He didn’t feel like the pampered type.
When she caught him gawking, she paused. “Are you okay? What’s wrong? Jonah?”
He shook his head. Jesus. No wonder why he couldn’t picture himself with her. His own freaking name sounded foreign to him. Why wouldn’t everything else?
“I just don’t understand,” he choked out. “This doesn’t add up.”
Alarm filled her eyes. “What…what do you mean?”
“They said I’ve been here two weeks.”
She crinkled her nose as if confused. “They said? Don’t you know how long you’ve been here?”
He shook his head. “I’ve only been awake from the coma for a few day
s.”
“You were…” Tess’s eyes widened as she pressed her hand to her heart. “Good God, no one mentioned a coma. Oh…” She turned away slightly. “You’ve been through…more than I originally thought.”
Watching her closely, he took in the fine tremor of her fingers as she brushed at her cheeks. She really did care about him, didn’t she? Which only made him more curious.
“Why did it take you so long to come?” The words he’d been waiting days to lash out at someone rumbled from his chest in more of a sob than the harsh demand he intended it to be. He clenched his teeth to keep his chin from wobbling.
Her big, scared blue eyes blinked. “What?”
He didn’t care for her pathetic attempt at stalling. It only made him think there was something big she was hiding from him. But it did help him regain some of the anger he wanted to keep.
“If I’ve been here for two weeks, and you’re my girlfriend,” he growled, snarling each word, “then why the hell did it take you so long to check on me? Why has it taken so long for anyone to check on me?”
Her eyes watered as her mouth opened. “Jonah,” she rasped, his name cracking on her lips as they pleaded with him to understand.
He shook his head, more confused than ever. “Just tell me.”
“I…I…I’m so sorry.” She covered her mouth for a moment as if needing to collect herself before she dropped the big explanation bomb. “Everything’s just been…crazy. Ever since—” Breaking off suddenly, she bit her lip. “What all do you know about…what happened to you?”
He swallowed drily. “Not much. The nurses told me there had been a mass school shooting at the university I attend. And I was one of the victims. After being shot three times, I hit my head on the corner of a table when I fell, which I guess put me in the coma. When I woke up, I had no idea who or where I was.”
“Th-Three times?” Tess went ashen as she cradled her belly. “You were shot three times? Oh God. I had no idea. You’re so lucky to be alive.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. He felt real lucky. When a thought struck him, he sucked in a breath. “Were you…were you hurt too?” Maybe that was why she hadn’t been able to get to him sooner. Maybe she’d been hospitalized and—
But she shook her head, her face full of guilt. “I…I…no. I was in my dorm room when it happened. I watched it all on TV. They had this one aerial shot from a helicopter they kept showing over and over again. We could see a figure lying on the ground in the middle of the street. It never moved. I think I cried all day for that one person, hoping whoever it was had survived.” Her eyes flashed to him. “I prayed it wasn’t you. And I…I called, but you never answered your phone.”
Turning away slightly, she lifted a hand to tuck a stray red curl behind her ear. “They sequestered us to our dorm rooms and wouldn’t let us out. I kept waiting for you to call back. But you never did. I was sure—” When her words broke off, he could see the torment in her entire being. Shaking her head, she looked back at him and whispered the last part. “I was too scared to check the fatality list. I couldn’t…I just couldn’t. I’m so sorry. I was scared.”
His throat worked. She still looked scared. Before he knew it, his anger slipped. The urge to ease her fears overcame him until he had to clench his hand into a fist and glance away. But as he took in his broken body covered by a thin white hospital sheet, the view reminded him why they were both here.
Brows wrinkling into a slight frown, he choked out, “How many died?”
She swallowed. “Eleven.”
Jonah’s body went cold. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes. “I hadn’t been able to…I hadn’t asked anyone that yet.”
“Twenty-one people who were wounded survived, though,” came her optimistic answer. “My friend’s boyfriend, Logan, was one of them. He caught a bullet in the chest when he stepped in front of her and saved her life.”
Opening his eyes, Jonah looked up. “Logan?” He shook his head. “I don’t…Do I know him too?”
“I—” She began to answer but stopped abruptly. “Of course. Of course you know Logan. Sure.”
He nodded, even though the name Logan didn’t resonate with him in the least.
“Who did die?” he asked. “Anyone I know?”
When her gaze darted away, grief filled him. Oh, God. Who had died? He hated that he couldn’t remember the names of anyone truly important enough to ask about. He hated that she was keeping things from him. He hated this entire confusing, fucked up situation.
“You know, why don’t you just focus on getting yourself better right now? We can worry about what happened in the shooting later when you’re healthy and you get your memory back. The nurse I talked to was worried about you. She said you hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch today, so you really need to eat. Okay?”
Jonah shook his head and glanced away. “I’m not hungry.”
“But—”
“No, God damn it,” he roared, winding back his arm. “I don’t want food.” After he launched the taco across the room, it splattered against opened door, adding to the mess already plastered to the surface. “I want to know what the hell is going on. Why are you the only person who’s come to visit me? Where is my family? My friends? I have family and friends, don’t I? What aren’t you telling me?”
“I…I’m sorry.” Trembling visibly, Tess scurried to pick up the meal she’d brought him and stuffed everything back into its takeout bag. “I don’t know why I did this. I shouldn’t have come here like this. This was a big mistake.”
“Why?” he demanded, the panic rising in his chest as she fumbled in her haste to collect her things. She wasn’t just going to leave him, was she? “Are we no longer together? Did I cheat on you? What’s going on?” When she didn’t answer, he latched his hand around her forearm and exploded, “Tess!”
She jumped and lifted her eyes.
He immediately wanted to apologize for scaring her, but God, he needed answers. He needed something.
“You can’t…you can’t just leave me like this.” To his mortification, his voice wavered, magnifying his fears enough for her to see and dissect every weak particle of his existence. “You’re the only link I have to…to anything.”
Her shoulders rose and fell sharply. More tears trembled at the edge of her eyelashes. Closing them, she opened her mouth. But before she could speak, a nurse barged into the room.
“What is all this yelling and commotion about in here?” Her lips pinched together as she eyed the door. “Mr. Abbott, did you throw more food? Just who do you expect to clean this mess up?”
“I will,” Tess said quickly. “I was about to get right to that.”
Leaving Jonah’s side, she hurried to the door to pick up the shattered dinner tray and stack the pieces. As the mollified nurse sent him one last lethal scowl before turning on her heel and storming from the room, he frowned at his girlfriend. She was a definite people pleaser, wasn’t she?
“You shouldn’t do that,” he grumbled. “A nurse or one of those volunteer people will get to it eventually.”
She paused before sending him an unreadable glance. Then she shrugged and went back to work. “I don’t mind.”
Once again, Jonah wanted to apologize for yelling at her. But his overwhelming emotions had been boiling inside him since the moment he’d woken in the hospital bed. Not knowing anyone—himself included—and no one claiming to know him was taking its toll. The fear had built hour after hour.
Since Tess Simpson had walked through the door with the closest thing he had to answers, he couldn’t stop the bitter taste of frustration when she only left him with more questions.
He stewed in his regret until he realized she’d finished scrubbing his mess. Then he only felt guiltier because she’d been the one to clean up after his temper tantrum.
“Thank you.” He spoke quietly and humbly, not quite able to look at her. A ball of shame formed in his throat; it took him two tries to swallow it down.
“I
t’s no problem.”
She forgave too easily, which worried him. Was she the type to let a person walk all over her? Jonah hoped to God he had never walked all over her.
“But I’d really like it if you ate.” When he glanced at her, she fluttered her lashes and sent him a begging smile. “Please. For me?”
He nodded, ready to do anything to get back into her good graces. He must’ve been crazy about her before the accident. No matter how frustrated he was or how many questions he felt the need to strangle from her, the desire to keep her happy seemed ingrained in him.
Jonah was starving, but he didn’t have an appetite. That didn’t make a lot of sense, he knew. The pangs in his stomach were cursing him to fill it already, except nothing sounded enticing enough to keep down.
Since Tess had brought him Tex-Mex, though, he reached out and slowly slipped the still-warm bag onto his lap. Her eyes lit with hope as he pulled out the first thing his fingers found and unwrapped it.
As soon as his teeth sank into the crisp breading of the chalupa, he closed his eyes and moaned, his craving for food thankfully roaring to life. “God, this is good.” He took another bite, filling his cheek.
Tess let out a large breath, her eyes sparkling with relief as she grinned. “Better yet?”
She must know him well if she knew eating helped calm his moodiness. He muffled out his answer and took another bite. “Mmph. Much.”
Smiling, she sank slowly into the chair beside his bed and watched him quietly as he polished off one taco after another, not even letting his broken arm slow him down. He stared back, still stunned someone was here, visiting him.
“Do you need a drink?” she asked, lifting the cup of ice water from his bedside tray as he began to eat the empanada.
Since she was already handing it over, he accepted with a nod and sucked heartily from the straw. He didn’t want to admit it, but the nurses who’d been badgering him all day to eat had been right. Eating freaking helped.
Or maybe it was the redhead with the too-kind blue eyes who truly helped.