Free Web NovelChapter 67: Could he have been in love with Lyvana?
"W-what? What happened, John?" El sounded scared.
"I don’t know what you did, but they have your alias!" John snapped. "’George Thompson’ is splashed all over the monitors in there. They are scrubbing the reroute right now. If she breaks that loop, they’ll have your GPS coordinates in minutes. You’re burning us both, you idiot!"
"No... no, that’s bad. That’s really bad," El stammered.
"You think?"
"What do I do? John, what should I do?"
"Listen to me, because you never fucking listen. Right now, you take that phone and you smash it to pieces. I mean a hammer, El. Then shut down the reroute and get the hell out of that apartment. Don’t take your car. Don’t take anything that pings."
"Where do I go?"
"Go to Aunt Elsie’s and stay there. Don’t breathe, don’t call me, and don’t even look at a screen until I tell you it’s clear. You got that?"
John hung up before El could respond, then leaned his forehead against the cool concrete wall of the stairwell, trying to catch his breath.
He had just bought his brother some time, but he knew Pamela was fast. He had to get back inside and find a way to sabotage the trace before the green light hit his brother’s front door... and his own door eventually.
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Julian gasped as he pulled himself out of the dream. For a moment, he stayed perfectly still, trying to hold onto the memory.
He had been holding a woman. The feeling of her skin was so real, and the way he had kissed her felt like the most natural thing in the world. But no matter how hard he tried to focus, her face remained a blur.
He sat up, his heart racing. He was at the penthouse at the obsidian. His head didn’t ache as much as it did a week ago, but the emptiness in his mind felt heavier than ever.
He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a cold glass of water. As he drank, a soft weight brushed against his ankles. He looked down to see his cat purring loudly and weaving between his feet.
"Hungry?" he murmured.
He reached into the fridge and poured a small saucer of milk, placing it on the floor. He watched her drink for a moment, feeling a strange sense of comfort in the simple routine.
He walked back to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. He ran a hand through his hair, gripping the strands as he stared at the wall.
The dream felt more like a memory. Who was she? And why did the thought of her make his chest ache more than his injuries did?
He stared into the darkness of the room.
Lyvana.
"Could Ethan be right?" he whispered to the empty room.
He sighed then leaned back against the headboard, his brow furrowing in frustration. He was a man who lived by logic, a man who controlled every variable in his life. But this... this gap in his mind, was a variable he couldn’t solve.
Was he really in love with this girl, like Ethan said? In the dream, the woman had felt like home. When he held her, the cold emptiness in his chest had vanished.
But thinking back on the photo Ethan showed him, the girl looked completely... not his type.
"Lyvana," he said again, louder this time.
He waited for a spark, a flash of memory, or a sudden burst of emotion.
Nothing.
Just a thick, grey fog in his mind. The same fog he had run into the very first time he opened his eyes after the crash.
It had been a week ago, with the smell of disinfectant. When he first awoke, it took a few seconds for his vision to clear. He found himself in a hospital bed, surrounded by the steady, annoying beep-beep-beep of a heart monitor.
"You are awake, son."
He turned his head slowly. The movement sent a sharp spike of pain through his skull. Sitting by the bed was Eleanor, her face was pale and her eyes red from lack of sleep.
"Mother..." he croaked, his throat feeling like it was filled with sand. "What happened?"
He tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness crashed over him, forcing him back against the pillows. His head felt heavy, throbbing with a dull, ache that seemed to pulse behind his eyes.
"Don’t try to move, Julian," Eleanor said, reaching out to press a cool hand against his forehead. "Let me get the doctor, okay? You were in a bad accident."
She stood up and hurried to the door.
Julian lay there in the silence, staring at the white ceiling. He searched his mind for what happened, but there was nothing.
A few minutes later, the heavy door swung open and a middle-aged doctor in a crisp white coat stepped in, followed by a nurse carrying a tablet. freeweɓnovel.cøm
He looked at Julian with a professional, yet cautious, smile.
"Good to see you’re back with us, Mr. Grant," the doctor said, checking the monitors. "I’m Dr. Moretti. How are you feeling? Any blurred vision or nausea?"
"My head... it feels like I was in an earthquake," Julian managed to say. "And I don’t remember how I got here."
The doctor nodded slowly, exchanging a brief look with Eleanor before turning back to Julian. He shone a small light into his eyes, checking his pupil response.
"That’s to be expected. You were involved in a high-speed collision. Your head took a devastating hit."
The doctor pulled up a scan on the tablet, showing a cross-section of a brain with a distinct area of darkened tissue.
"You have a significant concussion and some cerebral edema. That’s swelling of the brain," the doctor explained. "The pressure is affecting your hippocampus and parts of the temporal lobe. Based on our initial tests, you are experiencing Post-Traumatic Amnesia."
He tried to sit up, but his vision blurred from the pain.
"Amnesia?" he asked. "You mean I’ve forgotten things?"
