Page 55 of Pyscho
I listen and take a few sips before my door bangs open and I wince at the sound before locking eyes with Blade’s dark blue ones, which tear up.
“You’re awake?” his voice cracks, and I retort, “And you look like shit,” and he does.
His beard has grown, and lines have formed underneath his eyes.
“Who died?” I ask, completely stunned that Viper looks just as bad.
“You nearly did,” Blade mutters, shocking me and he shakes his head and runs his hands through his shoulder-length hair and admits, “Brother, you’ve been in a coma for four months.”
What the fuck?
Shock runs through me, and I croak, “F-four months?” just as people run into my room and I look up in time to see Venom, Mama and Dad along with some doctors.
“Oh, thank god,” Mama cries as Dad quickly takes her in his arms while Venom links his fingers behind his head, his eyes tearing as he takes me in, while a doctor in his mid-forties and graying black hair rushes over.
“Mr. Garcia, welcome back,” he says, and I frown.
“Where’s Ivy?” I ask in confusion as to why she’s not here.
Fuck is she in New York?
I can feel the panic rising in me, the machines beeping a little quicker, and Blade opens his mouth, but the doctor cuts him off and asks, “Before we answer your questions, Mr. Garcia, I need you to answer ours first, okay? But I need you to try and remain calm.”
He looks at me intently, and I clear my throat but nod and reply, “Alright…” cautiously.
If Ivy moved to New York before I can get her to fall in love with me, then remaining calm isn’t going to happen because she was supposed to leave knowing she loved me then return within days.
“Okay, what is your full name?” he asks, and I state, “Jax Hudson Garcia, but my brothers call me Psycho.”
He nods, “Very good.” Then he points around the room and asks, “And these people... do you recognize them all?”
I nod again and mutter “Yeah,” my nerves picking up over where my best friend is.
Alright so she’s more than that to me but it’s not like I could tell her how I feel with my dad fucking clubwhores behind Mama’s back and her wanting to try living her life outside of said fucking club.
“Okay,” the doctor says as he writes on the clipboard then asks, “tell me what your last memory is Mr. Garcia,” and I frown still confused as fuck but he quickly adds, “You had quite a nasty knock to the head so just appease me please.”
I tilt my head as the nurse checks my monitor and pulse and admit, “Ivy and I at the diner eating burgers…”
“When was the last time he took Ivy to the diner?” Mama asks Dad with concern, and he mutters, “A long fucking time ago…”
Shit.
“And how old are you?” the doctor asks, but I freeze, noticing the president patch on Blade’s chest—a patch he shouldn’t be getting until next year.
Fuck.
“I’m twenty-three,” I admit, and Mama chokes back a sob while the doctor sighs, “It appears you have short-term memory loss, Mr. Garcia,” and I look his way and question, “What does that mean?”
He gives me a slight smile and explains, “It means you have fixation amnesia and your life over the past five years is temporarily forgotten. Now it will return within time but how much time no one can explain,” he looks at the other doctors that came in with him and states, “I want a head CT to confirm the diagnosis as soon as possible,” before he looks at me, “I’m sure you have questions but I believe your family explaining what happened will be better than me but what I can explain is that your wound has healed nicely and you have no permanent damage.”
Wound as in…
I swallow hard, already knowing I most likely got hurt within the club, but I nod as another woman rushes in, whom I don’t recognize, and I frown.
She gasps, “He’s really awake?” and Blade looks her way as her chocolate brown eyes tear up while she runs her fingers through her caramel hair.
“Come here, princess,” Blade orders gently and the woman walks over to him before he wraps his arms around her, and I notice the old lady cut, her eyes solely focused on me.
