Red (Black #2) (6 page)

“No! Do you know who I am?”

Her head drops, she wipes the corner of one eye and looks back up to me again. “I do. I know you better than anyone else.”

“How?”

She takes a step to the bed and sits down on it, crossing her legs and pats the front of her skirt down before she looks back up to me. “I know you both on friendly terms, as well as physical.”

“We fucked?”

She flinches at my choice of word. “Yes.”

“I’m sure I’ve fucked a lot of women, Red.”

“Red?” she asks, ignoring my remark about fucking other women.

“Yes. I don’t know your name, so I’ve been calling you Red.”

“Why Red?”

I shake my head, this is not answering anything I need. “You seem to wear it a lot, your foundation is called Red.”

“It is.” She smiles.

“How long have we known each other?”

She looks back down to her skirt and brushes it straight, even though it hasn’t moved. “Since we were sixteen.”

I take a step back. That’s a long time to know someone, and that’s a lot of memory to forget. “Sixteen…” is all I can mutter. Just then my phone vibrates, and I don’t even look or think when I answer it. Red’s eyes are on me as she watches. “Yeah,” is all I can manage to say, staring at her, trying to think of just the slightest thing that would remind me… anything. Those words distract me so much that I don’t think twice as I answer the phone.

“Baby, I miss you so much. Come home,” Savannah’s voice whines into my ear. I pull the phone away wanting to punch myself for being stupid enough to answer it in the first place.

“Savannah, when I’m ready.”

“But baby, I crave you so much. No one can touch me or fuck me like you.”

“Not now,” I reply and hang up on her. Red hasn’t stopped looking at me, her eyes wide.

“Do you…” her voice is shaky, “…have a girlfriend? Or wife?” She stands now, not being able to sit any longer.

“Yes.”

Her head shakes. “Yes to what?” Her hands throw themselves up and fall back to her side. “Wife?”

“No.” Her hand flies to her heart like she’s relieved. “I need to go,” I finally say. Knowing I’ll have to deal with Savannah when I get back, it’s the last thing I want to do.

“Leave?” she questions. I nod my head to her. “We need to talk, you can’t leave. I need to know that it’s you, and not just my imagination.”

“Imagination?” I question her.

“Yes, that it’s not my imagination trying to repair my heart.”

“Give me your phone.” I hold my hand out and she gives me a questioning look then reaches into her skirt pocket and pulls it out handing it to me. Her locked screen has a photo of three kids on it. I look longer than necessary before I unlock then add my phone number.

“It's under Trace,” I tell her handing her, her phone back.

“Trace?” she questions.

“Yes, my name.”

“This can’t be real, it just can’t.” She steps closer and touches my face. I don’t move and let her hand touch me. “It’s got to be you, but it can’t…” Her hand drops and she shakes her head. “I can contact you through this number?” she asks after a moment of silence.

“Yes.”

“Anytime?” she asks again.

“Yes, anytime.”

Her head nods in a slow nod. “Can I ask you what your first memory was?”

“Memory?” I question her.

“Yes, I need to know what you remember.”

“I don’t have any memory apart from the last five years. When I woke up, I didn’t know anything or anyone… even myself. I remember seeing a lot of black.”

Her breath sucks in, it’s fast and sharp. “Thank you,” she says and starts to leave, she stops when she’s next to me and leans up placing a soft kiss on my cheek. “I’ve missed you,” she says then she’s gone.

Sometimes I have undeniable pain. Pain that’s so deep I think I’m damaged, actually, I know I’m damaged. I see women everywhere, and if one has long blonde hair, I feel the need to follow her. Something I don’t understand either. What is it with blonde women that haunts me so? Is it her—Red? Is she the reason that for five long years when I see a blonde, or ice blue eyes, something inside me stops?

The blonde at the bar turns her head toward me and I instantly shake the thoughts, she’s nothing like Red. And neither is the blue-eyed beauty walking to me right now. She jumps on me, wrapping her legs around my waist. Her hands cup my face, her lips land on mine. They start to move, but I do nothing, just continue to stand there. She pulls back realizing this and drops her legs, staring at me.

“What’s wrong with you?” she asks, her first words since I arrived back. I shake my head and pull my bag up over my shoulder walking past her. She catches up and follows me up the stairs to my room. “Talk to me, Trace.”

“Is that even my name, Savannah?”

She stops dead, and her blue eyes go wide. I don’t know why I loved them so much, when I look closer, they aren’t the blue that haunts me. “Why... why would you say that?” She manages to speak, a confused look crossing her face. Like she has no idea what I’m talking about, but her earlier reactions gave her away.

I start to think, to really think and begin putting together the lies. I now believe that she fills my head with lie after lie. That’s only good for her and benefits her.

When I awoke, it was her face I saw first, her face that was sitting by my bed. I remember it all as clear as day. Mainly because I could only remember so much, so much being the last five years, and I wanted the rest back. I want it all back.

“Baby…” were her first words. She sat there, holding my hand. I flinched and pulled my hand away from her. Why was this stranger touching me and calling me by THAT name? She stood above me, her eyes now in clear sight. She was beautiful, sexy even. I could see myself fucking a piece of ass like that, but it was the eyes that drew me to her.

“Savannah… that’s my name, Trace. Do you remember?” Her words made no sense, I didn’t understand them. Who the fuck was she talking about? I went to move and flinched hard from the pain that shot through me, my hand wanted to move to my back… my back was severely injured.

“What happened?” I asked her, clearly having no idea why I felt like death. And couldn’t remember one single thing, no matter how hard I tried.

“You had a job, it went bad…” She stopped talking and looked behind her. I attempted to follow her line of sight and saw nothing there. “You were shot,” she said looking at me again.

“Why can’t I remember anything? Or who you are?”

She didn’t miss a beat as she replied like she knew this was coming. “I am your girlfriend. We’ve been together for years, you don’t recognize me?”

“No,” was the only answer I could give her.

Her hand reached out and touched the side of my face, tenderly. “You will, baby, it’ll all be okay.” Her name was called. She placed her red lips to my cheek, kissed me softly and walked out the door, leaving me wondering who the hell she was.

“Stay somewhere else tonight,” I say coming from my memory of her. Her face scrunches up, her bottom lip pouts. I ignore it and walk straight past her to my room. When I open the door, Grover is sitting on my bed, watching me as I enter.

“Pres?” I question, throwing my bag to the ground standing in the doorway. His eyes shift to my bag then up to me.

“You’ve been gone a while, Trace.” His eyes are hard as he stares at me, then he drops them slightly to throw a photo onto the floor which lands at my feet. I look down and see that it’s a picture of me with Red—she’s at my door, at the hotel.

“You following me?” My body is relaxed, my voice isn’t raised. I am anything but relaxed, but I’m ready for what he wants.

“You ignored Savannah’s calls. Ignoring us?”

My head shakes. Trouble, that’s all that girl is. How come I never saw it so clearly before.

“Savannah? Seriously? How about this…” I grab the photo, picking it up from the floor and pocketing it. He watches my moves and I know instantly that it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have done that. “You get your girl to warm someone else’s bed, because she sure as shit is
not
going to be in mine anymore.”

He stands abruptly, taking two steps closer to me. “Careful Trace, that blonde might have you thinking differently. Just remember who’s been here for the last five years. And you best be remembering we’re good at what we do, and what we’re capable of.

“Is that a threat?”

“Blood in… blood out, brother. You won’t leave without blood being shed, and it may not be yours.” His tight lip smile makes him think he has the upper hand. Little does he know he doesn’t scare me, I would happily kill all of them and not blink twice.

“You’re leaving again?” Kane eyes my bag on the floor, the one I haven’t unpacked since Grover left my room. I’ve been in here all day, trying to think, trying to remember anything. It’s like a black hole I can’t crack, no matter how hard I try.

“Why?” He stands at the door and doesn’t move much, he’s probably the only one I can stand to talk to, even if he wants Savannah. Hell, he can have her.

“I heard you kicked her out. Pres has ordered we keep an eye on you. You must’ve done something to piss everyone off.” He cracks his knuckles standing there. I wonder if I can get the truth from him. I know for a fact, I could torture it out of him. They all seem to be strong men, though, but I’m sure I could break each and every one of them. “Will you be honest with me?” His eyebrows pull together, but he nods yes. “How long have you known me?”

He starts to fidget, looking everywhere but at me then looks at the door for an escape.

“Kane.”

“I’ve known you forever, brother.” It’s a lie, I can hear it.

“Honest Kane, last chance.”

“Five years,” he says just barely. If I weren’t watching him, watching his lips, I wouldn’t have heard him. I know that.

“Fuck!” I swear.

“What was my name, Kane? Was it even Trace?”

His head shakes. “You can’t tell them you know, or that I told you.”

“Name?”

“Black… they called you, Black. You’re what everyone wanted, and Grover hit the jackpot.”

“Savannah?” I ask, he knows what I’m saying.

“You never knew her before, she was told to play the girlfriend. Though, she didn’t complain once she saw you.”

“Fucking bitch.”

“She does love you, even if it was to use you at first… she does.”

“Kane, just stop! I know you love her, grow the fuck up and tell her.”

His head drops in shame. I can’t stand many people, but I can stand him in small doses.