"This really isn't safe for you to put off seeing a specialist. We need to get you checked out. What if there's permanent damage?"

"There won't be." I drag my teeth along my lower lip. I know I'm wrong. f.u.c.k knows how brains and brain damage work but I can't bring myself to go. There's an intuition I can't ignore, a G.o.dd.a.m.ned good reason for me not wanting to see cops or hospitals trapped in my f.u.c.ked-up head, and I'm gonna listen to it.

"How would you know?"

"Lucy." I pound my fist against the table. She shrinks back a little. "Sorry. I'm tired. Just, please, not again with this s.h.i.t, especially this early. No f.u.c.kin' hospitals. That's it."

"But I promised Billie."

"Well, Billie doesn't seem to give a f.u.c.k about me and my well-being anyhow."

"She's just overprotective of me."

"As she should be. Besides, she won't have to worry long. I'm headed outta here today."

Lucy stalls on her way back to me, her hands holding two gla.s.ses of water. "You can't leave."

"Huh?"

"Y-Your bike's wrecked."

My hands comb through my hair. That, too, had slipped my mind. How the f.u.c.k am I meant to fix her in this podunk town, let alone afford it? And where is my wallet?

My head shakes. "f.u.c.k it. I'll walk if I have to, hitch a ride somewheres. I'll quit wafting my bad air through your sweet town."

"Stay at my place," she answers quickly. "Remember, I have that sofa bed. It's not the best but it's out of the way, beneath some redwoods and nowhere that anyone'll find you. No visitors besides Billie."

I can't handle this girl's innocence. I stand to meet her and put the gla.s.ses on the table with my non-slinged hand. I cradle her face as I stare at her intently, needing her to believe me on this. "Quit being so trusting, darlin'."

"But I do trust you."

It's no use getting through to her. "Why the f.u.c.k would you trust me?"

"Because you haven't given me any reason to think otherwise."

"I might be a little out of my skull right now, but I'm from a patched MC. I don't trust myself."

I lay out my cut on the table, running my rough, dirtied fingers over the wrinkled, well-worn leather. There's an embroidered logo of a dragon, the only patch that remains attached to the piece. Above it is an arc of a darker patch of leather where something has been torn off. There's other rips in the leather that suggest a knife has been at it.

"You see this?" I ask, running my fingers over the missing patches. "Either someone hates me being a part of this club or I f.u.c.king do... I'm bad news, darlin'."

She takes a minute to cast her gaze down along the black and grey ink on my arms- Skulls, people's names, and grim reapers, all of which seem foreign to me. Then there's the other tattoo of which I can still translate. "When you got 'In death do I rise' in Spanish across your f.u.c.kin' chest, I'm figuring I ain't the best company to keep for a girl like you."

"A girl like me?" Lucy shoulders by me and switches the lights on. "Who do you think I am?"

She ties her long hair back into a ponytail. Her eyes are sleepy and her left-over makeup is smudged around her eyes and still I'm so attracted to this chick. She's f.u.c.king gorgeous in every way I like but I can't pin down exactly why.

"Lucy, I mean no offense."

"No, tell me who you think I am?"

"I mean, you seem a little nave, a little small town, girl-next-door type. The kind of girl I think I dated when I was a kid," I said, my head aching with little flashes of memory too swiftly fading to hang onto. "You're the kind whose daddy would kick me out of the house soon as I picked you up for prom and, to be honest, someone who really needs to learn a lesson or two about staying f.u.c.king safe."

I half expect a laugh in return but instead she tells me, "f.u.c.k you."

"Woah, there she is. Think that's the first time I ever heard a bad word fall from those sweet lips."

"You have no idea who I am."

"Alright, prove me wrong."

She scowls, probably stopping herself from mentioning a time she shoplifted some gum from a convenience store back when she was sixteen to prove how tough she is.

"I buried someone," she squeaks, glancing up at me and watching my response.

"Oh, uh-huh." I laugh along with her attempt at a joke but she doesn't follow suit. I've offended her.

"Forget it."

"Aw, don't be like that. Tell me what's the worse thing you've done."

"Landon, how about you quit being a p.r.i.c.k to me? All I've done is help you."

"I'm just making conversation, darlin'."

"Well, darlin', I'd appreciate it if you'd f.u.c.king stop. You don't wanna go to the hospital? Fine, I won't take you. But you d.a.m.n well better come up with a plan on what we're gonna do with you before Billie gets here and tears us both a new one."

"Oh, so you're afraid of her and not me?"

"There you go again."

"Fine!" I snap. "I'll leave." At that, she rolls her eyes, huffs and folds her arms. "What? I'll leave. That's what you want, right?"

"No, that isn't what I want. I want you here since you can't remember where the heck you're even from. That jacket... Somebody might be looking for you."

I've upset her. Her voice is quivering in her frustration with me and I want to calm her down but she keeps zig-zagging around the room, pretending to tidy the place.

"I'll grab a motel."

"With what money?"

I look at the cash register on the bar without even thinking. Lucy must see me because she walks back to me and knocks a fist on the table in front of me. "Don't even think about it!"

"What? I didn't say anything."

"You're a thief. Is that who you are?"

"Woah, jeez. I f.u.c.kin' glanced over there. Get outta here with that bulls.h.i.t."

"No."

"I ain't gonna steal from you."

"What's your name?" Lucy says, ignoring what I said. "Your full name, Landon. What is it?"

"Really? We're doing this again? I. Don't. Know."

"Try. We're gonna play a game. I ask you questions and you answer them as quickly as you can. Got it? So, what's your full name, Landon?"

"I don't-"

"Landon, what's your name?"

"Ask a different f.u.c.king question," I say.

Her expression suggests she's not impressed. "Where were you born?"

"Portland."

"What color is your hair?"

"Dark blonde."

"Faster. How old are you?"

"Twenty six."

"Wrong. How old are you?"

"Wait, wait, wait one sec-"

"-How old are you, Landon?" she interjects forcefully.

"Twenty eight?"

"How old are you, Landon?"

"f.u.c.k, I don't know?"

"G.o.ddammit." Lucy slaps her palm to the table. "What's your girlfriend's name?"

"Mia."

"Where is she from?"

"Ohio."

"Ohio?"

"I guess? I'm answering fast. I don't-"

"What's your favorite color?"

"Forest green." I smile. She seethes.

"What'd you wanna be when you grew up?"

"Uh..."

"Faster!"

"I don't know."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine." That one comes out easier, automatically almost.

"What's your club's name?"

"Devil's Dragons," my mouth answers before my mind has even had a chance to think. Lucy pauses her interrogation. She raises an eyebrow to me and bites her lip. "You remember your club?"

I stand up to take a second.

"Landon, is that the club's name?"

"Yeah, guess your aggressive methods work," I say. "Lets take a break though because you're giving me a f.u.c.king migraine."

I collect my leather jacket, checking the pockets again for my wallet. I've got to get out of here. I look at the Devil's Dragons emblem on my cut again and flip it over. There are some patches missing on the front of it too. Bits of my memory were clicking together. This was bad f.u.c.king news... There's only a few ways out of a club. You either die, retire, or you go out in bad standings. You don't lose your patch unless you're out bad.

"What's wrong?" Lucy asks, noticing my hesitation.

"Nothing sweetheart, just trying to remember," I reply, my hand sweeping across something solid beneath the leather. I flip the jacket open and reach into the pocket, pulling out a small matchbook.

Big Sal's, Jethrow, Northern California, it reads, with a small image of a naked woman.

"What's that?"

"Matches from some bar. Y'ever heard of Jethrow?"

"Jethrow? You remember Jethrow?"

As soon as she says the words, an image appears in my mind; A slow fog of recognition rolling into my conscience. There's a road with a few mom and pop stores, and the inside of a bar but there's a lingering feeling that this memory is wrong. I feel uneasy.

"Landon?"

"I'm gonna need a minute," I reply, closing my eyes and rubbing my temples. The pounding ache is killing me.

Lucy inspects her watch then collects her belongings. "Billie's gonna be here soon. We should go back to my place. Relax on the way."