Mac
A few nurses busy themselves in a flurry around my hospital bed. Anxiety picks at my nerves. I tuck my feet in close and curl around my clasped hands. I’m burrowed into Rex’s side; the only thing keeping me together is the strength of his arms wrapped tightly around me.
Why am I here? Disoriented, I want to close my eyes and pray this away, wake up in Rex’s bed, wrapped in his embrace.
A nurse reaches for my arm.
I jerk away. “Don’t let them tie me down.” My throat is raw, and I can barely hear myself over the commotion in the room.
But Rex hears me. His arms convulse around my shoulders, and he tucks me tighter into his side.
“Listen to me closely.” He speaks into my temple, allowing me to feel his words against my skin. “I won’t let anyone do a damn thing you’re not one-hundred-percent comfortable with.” He nuzzles my hair. “Nod if you understand me.”
I nod and squeeze in tight to bury my face in his chest.
He’s right. I can tell by the layout of the room I’m at a hospital meant to care for people, not the kind that locks people up, binds them with restraints, and drugs them all in the name of their best interests.
“They need to take out your IV.” He pulls my arm away from my body for the nurse but keeps his grasp firmly around my bicep, reminding me that he’s here and in control.
I’m shaking so badly that even my insides feel as if they’re quivering. My gaze darts around the room, leery of every uniform. Getting the hell out of the dark was all I wanted, but waking up in a hospital makes me long for the safety of my concrete prison.
Rex leans in and presses his lips to my head. “Talk to me, baby.”
A young nurse fumbles at my arm. Her eyes slide to mine, and she smiles like she knows me. I blink and bury my face back into Rex’s chest as she removes tape and slides the tube from my vein.
The sterile smell of antiseptic and the muted green walls make my body ache with the urge to run. If they pull out a syringe or a tie down . . . I can’t. I have to get out of here.
The nurse replaces the IV with a cotton ball and a strip of tape. “Georgia can—”
“That’s not my name.” My cheeks heat at my reflexive reaction. But it’s true.
Georgia’s dead. I’m Mac.
A tendril of red hair falls into my eyes. Slowly, I pull at the bright locks and loop them around my finger. Visions of my fight with Rex flash before my eyes. I suck in a breath and a whimper pushes up my throat.
I left Vegas. Mac’s dead.
The bar, Hatchet, the Motorcycle Club. Oh my God, the drugs. My breath picks up its pace to match my racing heart. Hatch left. I was so sick and . . .
I died. Annie died on Hatch’s bed.
The nurse swings her gaze to Rex, questioning, then looks back at me. “Honey, do you remember your name? Can you tell us who you are?”
“I’m not that girl.” Georgia, Mac, Annie, none of them. “I’m not.” I shake my head, earning another sympathetic look from the nurse.
If I’m not them, who am I?
Rex clears his throat. “Would it be all right if we have a minute alone?”
The nurse’s eyes snap to Rex, wide with surprise.
“All the people in here are making her uncomfortable. She’s been through a lot, and I need to make sure she’s okay.”
They stare at him, hands frozen mid-task. One of them, a tall brunette with kind eyes, steps up to the monitor at my bedside. “Her vitals look good. We can come back later and run some tests.” She nods to the others, and they all file out of the room.
At the sound of the door shutting behind them, my lungs release their death grip and I take a full breath. “I want to go ho—um . . .” I don’t have a home.
His hand, warm and comforting, cups my jaw. I gaze up into his soft blue eyes, so clear I notice right away the old shadows that used to be there are gone.
“Fuck, baby. I’ve missed your eyes.” He kisses the tip of my nose, further relaxing my tense muscles. “I’m going to take you home. As soon as they give you the okay, we’re out of here.”
Home. Back to Vegas.
I shake my head. “But you kicked me out. I remember, Rex. You said you’d forget me. You called me . . .” Liar. Manipulator. Selfish. The pain of his words thunder in my ears. “Why are you here?”
He looks me in the eyes. “Simple. I was wrong.”
“But—”
“You tried to explain, but I was so wrapped up in the memories.” He sighs long and heavy. “I didn’t handle it the way I should have and I’m so, so sorry.”
“How did you know I was here? Did you talk to Hatch?” A sick swell of hope rises in my chest at the prospect that Hatch is okay, that he sought out Rex for me.