Page 38 of Rescuing Mary

Succumbing to the pain, Truck lay back once more, this time clutching the pillow to his chest. He buried his nose in the material and eventually fell asleep with the comforting scent surrounding him.

Chapter Seven

“I don’t know about this, Rayne,” Mary told her best friend as they sat down in the corner booth in Truck’s favorite steakhouse. It wasn’t a chain restaurant, rather a locally owned business that Rayne had told her Ghost and Hollywood were taking Truck to for lunch.

“You said you were down with Operation Make Truck Remember,” Rayne informed her.

“I am. But…what if he sees me and falls to the ground with blood leaking out of his ears or something?” Mary asked semi-hysterically.

“That’s not how amnesia works,” Rayne told her.

Mary knew that, but she was so nervous about seeing Truck for the first time. It had been two days since he’d returned home, and other than the updates she’d gotten from Rayne and the other women, she had no idea how he was doing.

All of the other women were doing everything they could to pass on information about Truck. The notifications on Mary’s phone were out of control. She’d gotten more texts in the last two days than she’d ever gotten in her life. The women all grilled their men when they came home, then reported back to Mary every single thing that Truck had said or done.

She knew all about how he’d loved the movie Deadpool, apparently especially the sex scenes. He’d gone to the gym to work out with the guys, and was irritated because the doctor had said he needed to take it easy and Fletch kept telling him to chill out. Casey had told her that Beatle had told her that Truck’s head was still bothering him, alternating between stabbing pains and a ringing sensation.

Mary both loved and hated the updates, wanting to see for herself that he was all right, but they were killing her. She was scared to death of what might happen when Truck saw her, but her desire to see him in the flesh overrode her fears.

“Breathe, Mare,” Rayne said softly when they’d gotten settled in the booth.

“What if seeing me hurts him?” Mary asked.

“Then we’ll call the doctor and deal with it.”

That wasn’t the kind of hurt that Mary meant, but she didn’t contradict Rayne.

Her best friend reached across the table and grabbed Mary’s hand. “It’s gonna suck if he doesn’t recognize you,” Rayne warned.

“I know.”

“No, seriously. I know you. You’re gonna pretend that it doesn’t matter. That it’s not a big deal. But it is. I saw him yesterday in the grocery store, and he looked right through me. The man carried me, bleeding and scared out of my mind, out of that building in Egypt, and I didn’t see one spark of recognition when he walked past me. It sucked for me, and that’s why I know this is going to be doubly painful for you.”

“Jeez, why don’t you get some lemon juice and rub it in my open wounds?” Mary quipped.

Rayne squeezed her hand tighter. “All I’m saying is that it’s okay to break down. I’m not going to judge you. This is a no-judging zone.” Rayne whirled her free hand in a small circle, indicating the booth they were sitting in.

Mary gritted her teeth. “I know. You think it already doesn’t hurt, Raynie? Sleeping by myself in my bed that seems way too empty? Waking up and turning over, expecting to see him there next to me? Not one second goes by that I don’t regret the way I’ve treated him, that I didn’t get the chance to say thank you or try to tell him that I care.”

“You mean you’re sleeping?” Rayne retorted.

Mary shook her head at her best friend in exasperation. Rayne knew her too well. Either that or the dark circles under her eyes told their own story. She wasn’t sleeping. Not very much. She’d been having the worst dreams. Some involved Truck lying on the ground and bleeding out, others starred her mama saying over and over that men were no good and that love didn’t exist. Still others were nothing but weird noises and spooky shapes that had her sitting up in a panic, thinking someone had broken into her apartment.

But she didn’t tell Rayne any of that. She simply nodded her head and tried to look sincere when she said, “Of course I am.”

“You’re such a bad liar,” Rayne told her.

“So what’s the plan?” Mary asked, trying to head off another lecture.

“You walk by their table a couple times.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, yeah,” Rayne said. “I mean, it’s not like you can drop yourself in his lap and announce that you’re his wife and you want him to take you home to bed.”

“Tempting,” Mary quipped under her breath.

Rayne smiled. “I heard that.”