Page 47 of Hostile Saint

While they discussed scenarios, I did what Lacey was doing; blocking out those trying to talk to me. I was more interested in studying how long the patients were allowed to be outside before being guided back in. I suspected Lace’s turn was coming up next. As soon as I had the chance to go talk to her, I had to take it. I just needed the doc to walk away.

I jolted when Dagger backhand-tapped the side of my shoulder. He said, “Oh, sorry, I was just wondering why Lacey keeps pulling at her neck and shoulder?”

Resting my chin back to my knees again, my throat tightened. “She’s not. She thinks she is playing with her hair. It’s a nervous thing she did.”

“Jesus. H. Christ.”

I nodded, fighting tears. That action was telling. “Yeah. It seems she believes she still has those long locks.” As my mind played out the memory of Damien hacking away at her hair, my eyes slammed shut.

When I opened my eyes, I noticed the orderly talking to someone through the now open door. Here we go. I slowly slid a foot under my butt, hoping the smart bikers didn’t read my mind or body language. Fortunately, they didn’t, so I secretly curled my toes up so I could nonchalantly sit on the ball of my foot as I watched the orderly walk to the doc at Lacey’s table. Please call him away. Please call him away. My stomach tightened with anticipation as my body prepared for action.

After listening to the orderly, the doctor said something to Lace, then got up from the table.

Please let her stay. Please let her stay. Adrenaline slammed through me.

The doc said something, Lace nodded, and then he headed for the door, following the orderly.

No eyes on her, I took off with no warning. My body sprinted like an Olympian.

“Shit!”

Darting across that perfect grass, I heard three bodies hitting the ground as if each of them had dived to recapture me. Sorry, boys.

Their frustrated cursing had me hoping they wouldn’t be too angry when I returned to them, but I had to do it. I had to get close to her. There was simply no way of not seeing her up close. I needed my air. I needed her in my lungs…

Noticing me, Lacey’s eyes found mine.

As she stared, my heart called out to her; Lace… But then those hazel eyes started to show fear. Oh no. No, no, no… There was not one ounce of recognition toward me.

My feet almost stumbled as the bitter truth punched my heart.

Pretty Girl doesn’t know her Tate anymore.

A part of me wanted to turn and run in the opposite direction to avoid seeing the painful reality, but I didn’t. The growing man in me, and the little boy who once loved Lucey, both refused to give up. I had found this beautiful soul twice in my life. My heart told me three’s a charm. So, I kept facing the possibly hopeless challenge and picked up speed.

We had taken a vow.

One I would never surrender.

Even if she was no longer my Lacey.

Whoever she was now—or would turn out to be—damaged or not—she was still mine, and I wasn’t letting go.

Ever.

Evermore…

To not alarm her, I smiled as I got closer. She had always loved my dimples. I hoped she still would.

Once to the fence, which I was careful not to touch, I quickly squatted. Hiding next to a bush, I repeated our first words that I had said long ago… “I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are.”

I waited. I prayed…

Finally being near her again, my eyes soaked in all of her beauty as if seeing her magical aura for the very first time. She may not have had her usual glow, due to stress and loss of memory, but she was still entrancing and remarkable. Even her not knowing who she was, her natural essence shined. Everything about her mirrored her endless kindness. Soft ivory skin. Dainty nose. I could practically smell her sweetness as delicate blond eyebrows bunched. But this time her eyes softened, releasing fear. I believe a part of her, subconsciously, recognized me, even as she asked, “Who are you?”

Hope was all I needed. So, in our first conversation in weeks, I would continue to repeat more words from our past. “Willing to find out?”

Lace’s precious hand rested on her chest. I had missed her touch so much I was willing to be zapped by the fence just to feel it, but didn’t dare spook her or alert anyone to me being there. I couldn’t have anyone knowing of the young man who would be back, every day, for as long as it took, to make her love me again.