Page 11 of Devil in Disguise

“What the hell happened?” Ace shouted, demanding answers as I stood near the back of the room, unable to comprehend that Danny couldn’t remember anything. Was this some transient thing? Would his memory come back? Was it permanent? How much didn’t he remember? Just me or everything?

“Ace, if you don’t shut the hell up, I will put my fist in your face!” Reaper roared, rounding on Danny’s irate brother.

“Unless you’re family, everyone out!” Dr. Robinette yelled.

“I’m staying,” Montana growled, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Just try and make me leave, Doc,” Reaper threatened.

Both clubs left the room, leaving only Danny’s three brothers, the two club presidents, and me, who still hadn’t uttered a word since Danny woke up.

Tension hung thick in the air, every breath heavy with unspoken fears and unresolved anger. Danny’s eyes darted around the room, a mix of confusion and frustration etched on his face. His hands clenched the edges of the hospital bed, as if holding on for dear life to the fragments of memory that still remained.

“Tell me the last thing you remember, Danny,” Dr. Robinette urged gently, stepping closer to the bed. “Anything at all.”

Danny’s brow furrowed deeply. “Where is Mom?” he asked slowly, his voice trembling as he looked at Ace. “I want Mom.”

“Oh shit,” Reaper cursed, punching the wall as he stormed from the room. Montana quickly followed. His brothers exchanged worried glances but said nothing.

This was bad.

Like really fucking bad.

Danny’s mom died almost five years ago. It was a significant turning point in Danny’s life that set him on the path that led to his accident.

Ace took a deep breath, his face paling as he struggled to find the words. “Danny, Mom’s not here,” he began, his voice tight with emotion. “She passed away a few years ago.”

Danny’s face contorted in disbelief, and his grip on the bed tightened. “No, that’s not right. We had dinner last night. Where am I, Ace? When did you get home?”

Dr. Robinette exchanged a concerned glance with Danny’s brothers before addressing Danny again. “Sometimes after a trauma, our minds can mix up memories, Danny. It’s part of the healing process, but I promise, we’re all here for you.”

Danny’s brothers stepped closer, and each of them placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent show of support. The room fell into a heavy silence, punctuated only by the beeping of medical equipment and the distant murmur of hospital staff.

Leaving Danny with his brothers, Dr. Robinette motioned for me to follow.

I did so immediately.

Out in the hall, Reaper rushed over. “What the fuck, Doc?”

“I won’t know for sure until I run more tests, but Danny is clearly suffering from some kind of amnesia. Until I can get a clearer picture of what and who he remembers, I can’t say for sure if it’s a temporary thing or something permanent.”

“Jesus fuck,” Montana groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re fucking screwed! I knew it!”

“Doc,” Reaper carefully said after taking a deep breath. “I don’t give a flying fuck what you have to do, but you fucking find a way for that kid to remember. Everyone’s life depends on what’s in that kid’s head.”

“Reaper,” Dr. Robinette sighed. “It’s not like I can wave a fucking magic wand and restore his memories. His brain has suffered a major trauma. It’s going to take time.”

“Time we don’t have, Mere,” Montana snarked.

“Then make the fucking time,” the angry doctor shouted. “Because that young man has woken up to a world he knows nothing about, and I’ll be damned if either of you dump your bullshit on him.”

Montana’s eyes darkened with a mix of fury and desperation. “We don’t have the luxury of time, Mere. We’ve got enemies closing in and Danny’s the key to everything.”

Dr. Robinette met his gaze with equal intensity. “I understand the urgency, Montana. I’m in the line of fire too, but pushing him too hard could do more harm than good. We need to approach this cautiously.”

Reaper paced back and forth, his agitation palpable. “So, what do we do in the meantime? Just shove our thumbs up our ass and hope his memory comes back?”

“Not exactly,” the doctor replied. “We need to create a supportive and familiar environment for him. Surround him with people and objects he might recognize. It might help trigger his memories.”

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