“One day at a time, Am.” His lips brushed over my skin as he murmured, then pulled back.
Lifting my eyes, I watched him stay close, lean down, and tug the sweatshirt closer around me. “Hang on to this for me, ‘kay?”
I nodded.
Our stares bounced between each other. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “We’re going to figure this out. Someday you’ll remember.”
I couldn’t help but feel there was something specific he wanted me to recall.
“I’ll bring you dinner tonight.” Eddie promised, pulling away from the bed.
“Wait,” I called out.
He returned instantly.
Delving my hand beneath the pillow, I fished around until I found the two pills I’d pretended to swallow earlier. “Throw these away for me?” I asked, dumping them into his hand.
He laughed when he saw them. “Refusing medication? You bad, bad girl.”
I smirked. “I don’t want anything that’s going to make it harder to remember.”
“These aren’t pain meds, are they?” he asked, frowning at the tablets.
“No. I swear.”
Eddie tucked them into his pocket and smiled. “I’ll see you tonight.”
The second he was gone, I pushed my arms through his sweatshirt and took a deep breath. It smelled like him.
How easily I could grow attached to him.
The thought was a beautiful one but one I couldn’t allow to take root within me. In a world where I knew nothing, could trust no one, and might very well be the target of a faceless murderer, growing attached was the most foolish thing I could do.
But oh, if I were able to trust anyone… that someone would be him.
I was a punctual guy. Not today, though. Today, I was late for work. It was the first day in what had to be at least ten years that Loch Gen didn’t open at precisely nine a.m. Not that I could claim perfection for those last ten years. I wasn’t quite old enough for that.
A lot of those years and the honor of always opening on time went to my father, the owner of the general store. Loch Gen was the family business. Before my father, my grandfather had run the place and his father before him. Even though Dad was still the official owner, over the past few years, I’d been doing more and more. I knew all the work, and he was basically grooming me to take over completely.
He was ready to retire, and most days, I thought I was ready to own my own store. Hell, most days, it already felt I owned it.
After parking in the gravel lot down the street, I walked quickly toward the store that sat at the prime location at the end of the block. The front of the building faced the street, so no matter where you stood in the “business district,” this building was in sight.
Business district = all the shops everyone in town used.
As I approached, a tingly feeling climbed up the back of my neck. My gaze sharpened, bouncing around on various points of interest, looking for anything that might be out of order. Everything seemed fine, until I got close enough to see the door was ajar. Not all the way either, just slightly, as if someone thought they latched it behind them but didn’t.
Alarm bells sounded in my head. My fingers flew to the front pocket of my jeans, diving inside to make sure I still had the key. It jangled when I yanked it free, further fueling my panic.
What the fuck?
A noise from inside pushed me forward, a heavy thud. Without hesitation, I plunged onward, hitting open the door so it swung in all the way.
“Who’s in here?” I demanded in a half growl, half yell.
There was another muffled sound toward the back. Caution shot along my nerve endings, but I wasn’t about to walk away.
Silently, I crept back toward the sound, which was coming from the large stockroom. They were probably trying to rob the place, doing it right under my nose. As I sulked along, I drew my cell out of my back pocket and called up the number for the local police station. They would have someone here in under five minutes.
The stockroom door was open all the way. Light spilled out across the floor, and whoever was in there made no attempt at being stealthy. Sucking in a breath, my heart pounding violently, I charged into the back.
“Drop the shit, scumbag!” I roared.
A deep yell and a flurry of movement drew me around to the side. “Edward!” a familiar voice exclaimed. “What on earth…?”
All the breath whooshed out of me. “Dad! What are you doing here? I thought you were robbing the place.”
“This is my store, you know.” He glowered, not realizing I’d nearly clobbered him.
“Yes, I’m well aware, Dad. But you don’t come here very often,” I replied, holding on to my patience by a thin thread.
“Well, when I get the call my store isn’t opening on time, I come. I do have a key.”
“I’m only a few minutes late,” I grumbled. I should have known someone in town would have called him up and tattled on me.
“It’s nine thirty, son,” he said stiffly.
Fuck. Was it really?
“Sorry, Dad. It won’t happen again.” Actually, it might. If Amnesia needed me, then this store would sit closed until she was okay. I didn’t bother announcing that, though. It probably wouldn’t go over well, and I was already in a foul mood.
I wanted to be at the hospital with her. I wanted to make sure she was okay. It worried me no one believed someone had been in her room. What if they came back? I wasn’t confident she could protect herself. She was frail, just recovering from something terrible.
“I was getting worried. Thought I was going to have to call your mother and tell her you didn’t show up to work,” Dad remarked, turning back to the box he was hefting.
“Didn’t the person who called also tell you where I was?” I muttered.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.” He observed, stacking the box and then reaching for another one.
I laughed, a humorless sound. Of course he already knew where I was. Town gossips for the win.
“You here because you’re mad I opened late or because you and Mom don’t approve of me seeing Amnesia?”
“I opened at nine on the dot. So technically, your record is still spotless.”
“I appreciate that,” I said, and I did. I liked this store. It was important to the town, and it was a place I’d spent a lot of time. As odd as it sounded, I’d put a lot of work into this place, but it had put a lot of work into me. In many ways, Loch Gen was the reason I was still sane.
Dad glanced inside the box he’d just moved and frowned. “This isn’t the napkins. Where the hell are the napkins?”
Stifling a smile, I replied, “I reorganized everything back here. Paper goods are over there now, more accessible because they need restocked faster.” I gestured, then walked over to show him. Then I went on about a few other changes I’d made.
He gazed around as if he were just noticing all the modifications. “Looks good,” he said, gruff. “Very streamlined.”
I didn’t show it, but his praise meant something to me. “What do you need napkins for?” I asked, going to the box and pulling out some packages.