“You had no way of knowing, Trent,” she consoled. “You thought your wife was dead.”
Massaging my brow, I glanced at Zayne. “Was there any help from the cops? Any idea who was responsible?”
“The detective handling the case tried to help. Her fingerprints didn’t come up on the system and we couldn’t post her picture anywhere. Given the circumstances surrounding her discovery and her injuries, we were advised to proceed with caution. So, we waited.”
I kept thinking I was stuck in some goddamn nightmare and any minute now, Krisha would walk through the door to comfort me back into the realm I knew. “Will her memory return?”
Tia took her seat again and folded her hands in her lap. “When he first discovered her memory loss, the doctor said it would take anything from a few days to a few years to return. Or never,” she whispered the last part.
“Never,” I repeated, dumbstruck. “Fuck, I need to go see her, tell her I’m back.” I headed for the door.
“No.” Tia sprang up. “You can’t.”
I pivoted and grasped her arms to prevent her from crashing into me. “Why not?”
Zayne moved to her side. “She’s been through an ordeal, Trent. It took her a long time to accept her memory might not return. You can’t just tell her—”
Stiffening, I pierced him with an angry glower. “I won’t do anything to upset her if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“We know that. But this might be too much too quickly for her to handle,” Tia consoled, her eyes imploring me to understand while Zayne’s dripped a colossal warning.
If they were waiting for me to say something, they were shit out of luck. I had no idea what to say. I just discovered the woman I loved might never remember me. What did one say to that? Worse. How the fuck do I act like a stranger around her. How do I refrain from crushing her to me the next time I saw her? A string of curse words slipped out as I sidestepped them and walked over to the drink’s cabinet. “Do you mind?” I glanced over my shoulder.
“Help yourself. Lord knows we can all do with a drink,” he muttered.
Tia shook her head. “Not for me, thanks. I need to leave, Zayne.”
As she walked out after saying goodbye, I handed him a glass before downing mine. The stiff drink did nothing to alleviate my tense muscles. Moving to the large window that overlooked the floor below, I glanced around, taking in the scene of what appeared to be a refined gentleman’s club. Earlier, I’d come in the back door as per Tia’s instructions and had no idea what I walked into. At a glance, it looked like any other bar, but a deeper inspection indicated otherwise. Dark furnishing and soft lighting created an air of mystery and probably a subtle nuance to hide identities. A long bar served by shirtless men, occupied one wall while the rest of the space was cordoned into trendy seating areas. Considering the number of men in expensive suits scattered around either talking or drinking, it was a hugely popular place. Although scantily clad women danced on small podiums, clinging to poles, thrusting either their tits or ass out to gain favor, something told me it wasn’t the usual strip club.
“It’s a voyeur lounge. You can either watch or fuck while watching. You get the pleasure of both worlds. What you’re seeing is just the entertainment area. The performance rooms are another floor down.”
I turned at Zayne’s explanation. “Didn’t figure you for the voyeur type.”
“To each his own?” His bottom lip curled slightly into something that resembled a smile, the first normal reaction I’d seen since meeting him.
“And I’m guessing with a name like Incognito, people pay a heck of a lot to keep their identities a secret?”
“We all have secrets, Trent, some more so than others.” Something flashed in his eyes that had me curious about the man behind the club. Who was he? Was Rika aware of her husband’s occupation? “Entrance is strictly by membership but feel free to come by any time.”
“Thanks.” Oddly, the digression in conversation settled my frustrated thoughts a little. It gave me a chance to regroup. I cupped the back of my neck trying to massage the stiffness. “Yesterday, you mentioned Rika’s your wife?”
“She is,” Zayne replied, his non-committal tone had me wondering if it was a love marriage or one of convenience.
I could’ve just asked but I figured the man would be abrupt in his sharing of information. Unsure how to approach that divulgence, I took a moment to consider my options. Not that I had many. “Then why did you invite me here, knowing who I am?” I asked at length.
“She needs to know her past. I promised her I’d do anything to help.”
“Even if it means breaking your heart. Giving her up?” My surprise filtered through my words unsure I’d be that gracious.
“Putting the cart before the horse, aren’t you?” He watched me over the rim of his glass then lowered it. “If that’s what it takes to give her the happiness she deserves.”
“Are you saying she’s not happy at the moment?”
“No. But she needs to know she has a family.”
“And you’d give her up for that?” While I was grateful for his help, I found it strange a man would just give up his wife without a fight.
He took a moment to respond, sipping his drink as if contemplating my words. “Don’t mistake my chivalry for insensitivity, Trent. She’s a woman I’ll go out of my way to make happy. I’ll give her whatever she wants, whatever she asks, to make her whole again. You have my consent for whatever it takes.”
