“Sorry, I’ve got zilch.” Panic swirled, and I slapped it down. Not today.
“Shit, Allegra, I don’t know what to do,” he exclaimed, running his hands through his hair.
“Neither do I,” I replied, somewhat amused. Yesterday had been full of alarm, fear, and shock. This morning, I was more resigned. The doctors initially believed I had post-traumatic amnesia. But as it was coming up to nearly twenty-four hours,and I remembered absolutely nothing, they were growing more concerned.
Today, I’d opted to take a different approach. Make fun of this and don’t let the fear beat me. Unsure if I was acting normally, I decided to be upbeat. Guess I got to pick my moods. Dr Rose had discussed with a brain specialist whether there was possible retrograde amnesia. The neurologist claimed it was too early to diagnose, but there were worrying signs present.
“Seriously, who gets a chance at a fresh start?” I teased.
“That’s not funny. Do you even remember the twins?” Thatch demanded, and I paused.
“Huh?”
“Shit, nobody told you? Allegra, you have a boy and a girl, fraternal twins; they’re seventeen months old, Allegra. Wade and Darcy,” Thatch exclaimed in frustration.
“Children,” I whispered. Finally, my joking faded, and I realised how serious this was.
“Do I have a husband? Were they with me in the accident?”
“No. You were driving home from here. You’d just had a run-in with your ex and were highly distressed. Allegra, you were on a joint call with me and some cousins when a deer ran out into the road. You stopped and missed hitting it, but the car behind didn’t and smashed straight into you. The impact forced you through the barrier, down a slope, and into a tree. The airbag deployed, but you hit the side of your head badly.”
“I don’t remember.”
“It’s okay,” Thatch instantly soothed.
“No, it’s not! I have babies, and I don’t even know their names!”
A nurse rushed into my room. “What’s going on? Miss Spalding needs to be kept calm.”
“I have children?” I asked, and her face softened.
“You don’t recall them,” she murmured.
With that, I began crying, and not prettily. Gulping sobs heaved from me, and I wiped my nose. Thatch tried to calm me down, but it was impossible. This wasn’t amusing after all. What type of mother forgets her own kids? Lost, scared, and definitely lonely, I didn’t fight when the doctor sedated me.
Shotgun
Shotgun stood outside the clubhouse, waiting for Chance. He no longer felt comfortable entering. Which was bullshit; this was his home. Chance exited, rubbing his neck.
“Follow me,” he ordered.
“Gonna tell me what this is about. I’ve got shit to do,” Shotgun retorted.
“Fuckin’ walk, asshole,” Chance snapped.
“What do you want?” Shotgun said as they walked towards the houses.
“I remember how it was under Zeus. The constant fear that I’d wake up and one of you would be gone. Recall how it felt living every day not knowing if you were gonna get a bullet or sent down for one of his cronies’ crimes. We lived life on a knife’s edge but never lost sight of the endgame.”
“I know,” Shotgun replied.
“So, after having endured that, why the fuck would we betray you, brother? We went to hell and back together. You wanna screw a man, who gives a shit? Not us, not Hellfire. We don’t judge like that, and actions speak louder than words. You’ve supported every brother and old lady in this club. Think we’d turn our back on you?”
“That prospect’s face has never faded. I keep imagining the fear he’d have suffered and the agony. His club turned against him,” Shotgun admitted.
“Not us. We weren’t there. That’s why Zeus did it. And we got revenge for him,” Chance said.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t stop the idea that could have been me.”
