Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“Two days,” he replies, simply.
He walks to my bedside. His presence seems to swallow up the room. Any other time, that would worry me.
But not now.
Now, I’m too confused. I’m way too fearful that I’ve been out for two days and can’t remember anything. Right now, the only thing that is even vaguely familiar is this man, so I don’t want him to leave.
“Miss Miller, you’re awake.”
My head jerks around, my gaze settling on a man coming through the door. He’s in scrubs and a white lab coat. He’s definitely a doctor. I try not to feel terror at his presence, but I can’t help it. The closer he comes, the more I panic.
It’s clear he knows me. It’s even clearer that he’s talking to me and that he’s calling me by name.
Miss Miller.
I have no idea who Miss Miller is. It’s then I realize that I have no idea who I am. It hits me that everything is blank in my mind. I don’t know who I am, where I’m at, or how I got here.
I let out a new sound. A sound filled with pain and grief as I search my brain for anything and come up completely empty. Immediately the man at my side reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing it.
“Are you okay, Grace?” he asks, and he’s clearly concerned about me. I grab hold of that because it feels like he cares.
“Is my name Grace?” I ask, making him frown.
“You don’t know your name?” the doctor asks, but I don’t respond. I basically ignore his question. I can’t deal with him. My focus must remain on the one person I have a small connection with. He’s the only thing that seems even a little familiar. He’s a lifeline because right now, I feel like I’m drowning.
“Grace,” the man prompts gently. “Do you not know your name?”
“No,” I confess, my entire body trembling. “I don’t remember anything.” Tears begin to fall as the fear takes over and I cry because I don’t know who I am.
“Fuck,” he hisses and takes me carefully and oh so gently into his arms. It’s weird, but I feel safer like this, so I hold on willingly.
“Are you saying you have no memory whatsoever, Miss Miller?”
The doctor asks that question and I pull back to answer, but as I do, I keep my focus on the man holding me. I don’t break eye contact with him.
“No,” I confess. “I don’t remember anything.”
“It’s okay, honey. It’s going to be okay,” the man assures me. “We will figure this out.” I desperately want to believe him.
“We will?” I prompt.
“Definitely,” he says much like he did before. That one word is full of confidence—as if he doesn’t doubt it at all.
I have like a million questions. But, there’s one I desperately need the answer to right now.
“Who are you?” I ask him, needing the answer.
I watch as his beautiful face slowly becomes tortured. My simple question has hurt him desperately. I can see it and I instantly feel regret, but at the same time, I need to know.
“He doesn’t look familiar, Miss Miller?”
“A little,” I hedge, answering the doctor. I watch as surprise replaces a little of the hurt that marred the other man’s features. I find myself needing to know his name. I don’t stop to ask myself why. Nothing is making sense. It hasn’t since I woke up.
“Good,” the doctor praises. “That’s really good.”
“It is?” Finally, I turn, trying to grasp the hope that the doctor is offering.
“It definitely is.”
“But I don’t understand. Why is that good? I don’t know who he is. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know anything.”
“I know it can be terrifying, Miss Miller. Please understand, it’s not completely uncommon with head injuries like the one that you sustained. Still, the fact that your fiancé seems familiar is encouraging.”
“Fiancé?” I gasp.
The man—my fiancé—is staring at me the entire time and anguish covers his features. Clearly, I mean something to him, but he’s still a stranger to me.
A complete stranger…
8
#7
(STARK)
“Is Oracle around?” I ask as I step into the main area of the compound. Sean is stretched out in a recliner and Leo and Ettie are curled up on the couch. They’re watching those stupid Twilight movies again that Ettie loves. I don’t know what kind of movies my Grace likes yet, but I’m praying it’s not that drivel. Leo will watch anything as long as it means getting Ettie curled up next to him and his hand on her ass. I’m not sure why Sean puts himself through the torture.
“He muttered something about things getting more interesting and needing to be prepared and took off downstairs,” Sean says while yawning.
“What’s that mean?” Ettie asks.
“You ask that as if Oracle ever makes sense, Sunshine,” Leo says leaning down to kiss the top of her forehead.