Page 5

Chapter Four

" W hat the hell, Avery. Calm down, you’re not making any goddamn sense."

Her sobs crackle through the speaker, so sharp I yank the phone away from my ear.

"They said he has some memory loss," she finally chokes out. "They said it’s not uncommon, that he might get it back slowly but…" She trails off, strangled by another broken cry.

"But he doesn’t remember you?" I ask, softer this time. The fight’s bled out of her voice and, damn it, something about it digs under my skin. "Avery, he’s alive. That’s what matters right now. He'll remember eventually."

"You weren’t there," she snaps, voice splintering. "You don’t understand, Sebastian. You didn’t see how he looked at me. I don’t know how much time he’s lost and that scares me."

The line goes dead and I lower the phone. A strange feeling stirs in my chest and for a second I think maybe I should go find her and see if she's okay. But that would be crazy because I'm the last person she needs.

"He’s awake." My voice is distant, thinking about what Avery said. Callan can’t remember and that isn’t just inconvenient for her, but dangerous too.

Aidric looks up from the edge of his bed. "'Bout damn time. I had no doubt our boy would come back. What the hell was she screaming about?"

"She’s spiraling," I say, slipping my phone in my pocket. "Apparently he doesn’t remember her and she’s wrecked over it." I sigh. "Can’t say I blame her."

Aidric straightens his spine. "Memory loss?"

I nod. "Standard trauma shit. He’ll get it back eventually."

"This isn’t good, Seb. We're gonna need eyes on him at all times."

My brows pinch. "Why?"

"If he starts to remember shit from that night, what do you think is going to happen? He could panic, or worse, he could start talking, thinking it's correlated to his accident."

"Oh, shit," I breathe, getting to my feet.

"And if the wrong person hears him…"

He doesn’t finish. He doesn’t need to.

"Fuck." I run a hand down my face. "Klein was already sniffing around the hospital yesterday. It's only a matter of time before he questions Callan about the accident. If he slips up and says the wrong thing—If he remembers Evan before he remembers the cleanup…"

"He could crack," Aidric says flatly. "And if he does, it won’t just be him on the line, it’s all of us. Every Lord tied to that night, even Avery."

"I mean, let’s be real. It’s not our fault," I say. "It's not like we pushed Evan off that cliff."

"No," Aidric agrees. "But we covered up a crime. The cops don’t care that we didn’t push him. But they will care if they know we left him there to die."

"We all know that asshole detective doesn’t give a shit about what happened to Evan, he just wants to catch us holding the shovel so he can pin something on the Ice Lords."

Aidric rubs his eyes, getting to his feet as he stretches his arms above his head. "We need to get to the hospital. See what we're working with."

There’s a heavy silence before I mutter, "Practice?"

"I’ll text Coach. He owes me."

"And Avery?" My voice is soft for some reason, as if it’s taboo to ask about her. But after how much she's been involved in our lives lately, the secrets she knows bits and pieces of, I feel like we need to have eyes on her too.

"Let her have her little meltdown. We just need to make sure she doesn’t crack under the pressure of all of this. The last thing we need is either of them talking."

I tilt my head. "She’s in deeper than she realizes."

"She hardly knows the surface of the secrets we hold and that alone could cost her, her life," he says. "And if whoever’s fucking with her is using her to get to us, it won’t be her paying the price, it’ll be us."

"Then we get ahead of it." I square my shoulders. "We find out who’s behind this and remind them who the fuck they’re dealing with. No one touches our house, and no one touches her."

Aidric smirks. "Careful. You're starting to sound possessive."

I shake my head. "She keeps pushing back at us and next time I’ll do more than shove my cock down her throat to shut her up. I’ll fuck some sense into her. Hard. That’s not possession, Aidric, it’s ownership. We own her."

Aidric barks a laugh. "She could probably use a good fuck after how hysterical she sounded. Maybe you’ll find her reset button."

I can’t help but chuckle as we make our way to the car. "She’s got a dark side hiding in there," I mutter. "I think she just needs someone to drag it out."

We leave the house in a hurry, knowing time is of the essence.

It’s a ten-minute drive to the hospital, but the second we step into Callan’s room, I know we’re not getting him alone. His family is taking up the space. There's Brogan, the twins—Rome and Wilder—his dad, even his youngest sister, Lake, along with his stepmother.

But it’s Callan sitting up that catches me. He's got a grape popsicle in his hand and a lazy half-smile stretched across his bruised mouth. I can't remember ever seeing him so relaxed and carefree.

For a second, I wonder if he’ll even recognize us, but when he lifts his popsicle like he’s toasting us, I know.

The breath of relief I have over that is intense.

Missing a few months of memory usually comes back within a week or so after an accident, but when people lose entire years, that doesn’t always return.

"What’s up, boys?" he calls, voice rough but bright.

"How ya feeling?" I ask, hanging back as his family circles him. His stepmother runs a hand through his hair that looks freshly washed, the blood staining it from earlier gone as she combs it back away from his face.

He shrugs, that smile never leaving his face. "Like I got hit by a truck, then blown the fuck up. Other than that, pretty damn good."

I snort. "At least your sense of humor survived."

"Gotta laugh through the bullshit," Callan says with a chuckle. "My memory’s fuzzy, but it’ll come back."

"That’s a shame," Aidric says. "How far back we talking?"

I elbow him hard enough that he stumbles. Now’s not the time to dig. The last thing we need is to trigger repressed memories that make him confused in front of his family. It'll cause too many questions.

Callan frowns, thinking. "Feels like pre-season. Month, month and a half maybe. I remember getting to campus and the party where we…" He pauses then throws a wink our way, clearly referring to the night we triple teamed two puck bunnies. "Anyway, everything after that is gone."

My stomach sinks.

That’s everything—everything with Evan, everything with Avery. We sure as fuck can't have him remembering shit at the wrong time.

Aidric and I exchange a look. We don’t even need words to know this is bad, like really fucking bad.

At least our boy is benched for the season. He’s safer here, surrounded by people who think he’s still the same golden boy. Seeing the team or the guys could trigger memory flashes and we need to keep that contained as much as possible.

At least remembers what being an Ice Lord is, even if he might not recall some of the depraved shit that came after.

Speak of the devil, the door swings open and Avery steps inside, her smile strained at best. The second she sees us, it collapses altogether.

Brogan moves fast, slipping an arm around her waist. "Hey, babe," she says low, herding Avery back toward the hall. "Let’s talk outside."

Aidric jerks his chin at me and I follow them, curiosity sharpening my every step.

"What’s up?" Avery asks, wide-eyed, glancing back at the door. Just before it shuts, I can see Callan’s face pinched with confusion and anger. Shit, he really doesn’t remember their little make-up sex sessions.

Brogan hesitates before grabbing Avery’s hands.

"We think...we think it’s best if you don’t visit for a while.

Callan’s confused, Ave. Waking up to you alone in his hospital room…

he didn’t understand why you were there.

It sort of freaked him out. He won’t let any of us talk about you and gets angry anytime we bring up your name. "

Avery recoils, her hands falling from Brogan’s as I approach. A single tear cuts a path down her cheek. And damn if there isn’t a twisted part of me that wants to lick it off her skin. I bet she tastes like pain and defiance. Like something forbidden.

"I get it," she says thickly. "Makes sense. Doesn’t make it hurt less, though."

Brogan pulls her into a hug. "He’ll remember. And when he does, you two can pick up where you left off."

Avery tries to swallow, and I can see this getting worse if Brogan continues talking. "I really do care about him, Brogan. More than I ever wanted to."

For some reason, that punches harder than I expected. For fuck’s sake. They had, what, one date and a fuck and now it’s some kind of epic love story.

"For the love of God," I mutter, reaching Avery’s side as I roll my eyes.

"Kick rocks, Sebastian," Brogan fires back.

"Better yet," Avery sneers. "Eat shit."

God, I fucking love her mouth. Does she have any idea how much I want to fuck it every time she talks back to me like this?

"I’ll gladly do both," I drawl. "Once I figure out what the hell’s going on here."

"Go away," Avery snaps. "We’re having a private conversation. Not everything revolves around you and your selfish bullshit."

I step closer, lowering my voice to a deadly calm. "Selfish? You’re the one trying to force something with a guy who doesn’t even remember a time where he didn’t despise the ground you walked on. Sounds like you're the one who needs to leave."

The look of raw, brutal pain on her face does something unexpected to me and I don’t like it. I hate that I recognize it, hate that it feels too familiar, like a wound I thought scarred over years ago getting sliced back open right before my eyes.

I turn my head away before I do something stupid like apologize, or worse, grab her face and kiss her until she forgets how sad she is.

"Just ignore him," Brogan says, hugging Avery tighter. "I think Callan just needs a little space. You’re doing the right thing."

Avery wipes her cheeks and straightens, spine stiffening. "Okay," she whispers. "I’ll give him space. Besides..." She spins toward me, a wicked glint in her eye. "I have other things to take care of."

Yeah, I know exactly what she means. The box, the notes, the bloody warning no one can explain.

Brogan promises to grab pizza and hang out at their dorm later, and Avery agrees. Then she walks away with her head bowed like she’s carrying the weight of the world.

I don’t think, I just move.

"Tell Aidric I’ll catch up later," I toss over my shoulder at Brogan.

She narrows her eyes. "Stay away from her, Sebastian."

I flash my teeth at her in a grin and saunter off because there’s no fucking way I’m staying away.

Not now. Not when she’s walking like she has a plan. If Avery thinks she is going to run off and do something reckless without me, then she's sorely mistaken. If my little lamb wants to run into fire, you best believe her wolf is going to be at her back, hunting her the entire time.

What’s that saying again? Oh right. When the lamb walks into the fire, it's because its flames are safer than the wolf.