Chapter Twenty-Eight

Brenden widened his eyes, fighting the darkness attempting to pull him under again. After rubbing his eyes, he adjusted to the light, then looked around the room. All were strangers, except Linc and Josh. Obviously the white coat was a doctor and the women in scrubs were nurses.

And then there was her. The woman with glowing skin and enchanting brown eyes, who had held his face seconds ago. She was more beautiful than any woman he had ever imagined, but why was she crying? Why did she look at him with sadness, and yet her lips held the trace of a smile?

Who was she?

He jogged his mind, attempting to recall her face. Surely he would remember a woman who touched him with such tender affection. A woman who gazed into his eyes and pierced the window to his soul—but he didn’t, couldn’t remember her.

Consciousness faded in and out. Voices muffled, faces blurred, and he couldn’t tell whether he was dreaming or not until the beautiful woman spoke.

“It’s okay.” She squeezed his hand. “The doctors said you would be a little foggy when you first woke up.” Calm spread within him. Her voice, it was definitely that of the angel who had led him away from the darkness and into the light.

Time after time when darkness began encroaching all around him, that voice would come and rescue him. Death couldn’t have him because she had said to fight, to be strong, and to come back. And now, he didn’t know who she was.

“Uh, Paige, if I may.” The doctor stepped forward. “Hello, soldier, I’m Dr. Young. Can you tell me your name?”

Brenden leaned back into the bed. He took a deep breath and lifted his arm, examining the IV. His gaze traveled down his body before he pulled at the thin hospital gown. “Brenden Charles Jasper, aka Jas.”

“Good, good.” The doctor pulled a light from his pocket and began examining Brenden’s eyes. “Do you know where you are, Brenden?”

“A hospital. Given where I was, Landstuhl.”

“Correct.” The doctor pressed his lips. He scanned Brenden’s face before taking out a notepad. “And where were you?”

“Yemen.”

The doctor scribbled on his pad, then looked back up. “Your rank and unit?”

“Lieutenant colonel. Unit is classified.”

“Classified? I’m afraid—”

“Our unit is classified, doctor.” Linc nodded at Brenden. “He can’t, nor will he answer your question.”

“Understood.” The doctor’s face tightened. “Now, Brenden, can you tell me what you last remember?”

Random flashes sprang to life. One minute he was parachuting into Afghanistan in the dead of night. The next he was in the Arabian Peninsula, emerging from combat so intimate he was soaked in blood that wasn’t his. Gradually the fog cleared and he settled into his consciousness.

Or so he thought. The sight of his parents, along with Amanda, racing past a glass window before pushing the door to his room open, confused him. He had to be dreaming again, or in dire straits for Robert Jasper to allow his mother so close to the life he led as a Black 2131 operative. Therefore, something was wrong, very wrong.

With alarm bells blaring to life, Brenden wiggled his toes, turned his neck, touched his face, and then looked over his body once more. Mobility was present in all limbs. There was nothing distressing unless those present were counting the bandage over his left brow and the gauze wrapping his head. So what was going on?

“He’s awake! Thank God,” his mother cried, running into the room with his father and Amanda following. “I prayed you’d come back to us.” She pushed the doctor out of the way and wrapped her arms around Brenden, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Glad to have you back, son.” Robert circled his long arms around his son and wife. “You gave us all a scare.”

“I’m good, old man.” He stretched his arms, yawning. “Just tired.”

“Bren,” Amanda said softly, making her way between his parents until she stood beside him.

Brenden nodded with a faint smile before she hugged him hard. He opened his eyes, finally feeling not so confused. But then his line of sight went back to the woman the doctor had called Paige.

He became frustrated and confused all over again meeting the woman’s piercing brown eyes and sad face. Her chest rose and fell with a stutter before she grimaced and turned away. For a second, he wished he knew why.

“Not sure what any of us would’ve done if we lost you,” Amanda confessed.

“I’m not going anywhere. Stop being a wuss.” His lopsided smile faded. He paused, scanning the faces of everyone in the room. “I need someone to tell me what’s going on.”

The doctor eased back in front of everyone. “In due time, Brenden. First, I need you to answer my question. What is the last thing you remember? I need you to be as specific as possible.”

“Before that can happen, I need Paige, Joan, and the nurses escorted from the room.” Gone was the concerned father. Robert Jasper had morphed back into the persona Brenden knew all too well as General Jasper, Secretary of Defense.

“Yes sir,” Josh said as he moved to Paige’s side and grabbed her by the arm.

“Manda, execute an NDA.”

“NDA?” Paige balked, pulling away from Josh.

“Non-disclosure agreement,” the general replied, never relinquishing his stern face.

“I know what it is. But Brenden just woke up from a coma. Must he always be at the mercy of Black—”

“A coma?” Brenden whispered, reaching for the gauze wrapping his head.

“Get her outta here, now,” Robert turned red as he ordered Josh to escort Paige out.

“Robert, no! She’s right. Brenden’s our son! He needs rest.” Tears streamed down Joan’s face as she snatched Paige from Josh and exited the room.

Robert stood facing the door for longer than a few heartbeats. He dragged a hand through his blond mane. Conflicted, upset, irritated… Brenden knew it was one of the three because it was how he responded to shit that had a no-win situation. Like father, like son.

“Manda, you ready?” Robert did an about-face and took a step toward the doctor.

“Yes, General Jasper.”

“Good. Effective immediately, Dr. Young, you plus one doctor of my choosing are responsible for the care of my son, Brenden Jasper, and his comrade, Roderick Campbell. No other doctor will treat them, talk to them—”

“Who is she?” Brenden leaned forward until he could see past his father and the doctor into the glass observation window.

Brenden pulled his gaze from the window and looked to his father. The expressionless general had melted back into the concerned dad, but he said nothing. Brenden then turned to Linc and Josh. Never had he seen the men he called his brothers look at him with pity. For the first time in their presence, he felt weak.

“Brenden,” Dr. Young started as he looked to the window and then back at Brenden. “The woman next to your mother, you really can’t recall who she is?”

“Doctor, stop beating around the bush. Our team has been through enough,” Linc snapped. “Fuck, Jas, she’s your wife.”

Wife? Brenden sat up. His eyes traveled over every inch of the woman next to his mother. He swallowed hard, then rested back into the pillow while staring down at his left hand. There was no ring. However, he bore the infamous ring-finger tan line, the mark of a married man.

When did he get married? Why couldn’t he remember? He closed his eyes, balling his fists.

“Not possible. Since when does this life allow attachments, complications? I never wanted to be married. Fuck, I can’t. A wife with all the shit we do and see? She’s fucking beautiful, but I can’t remember who she is to me or what I am to her.”

“Brenden, what is the last thing you remember before blacking out?” Dr. Young took a step closer to the bed.

“I already told you. Yemen. I pulled Daniel from the black site right before it blew.”

“Daniel, is he a member of your team?” The doctor scribbled on his pad.

“Yes.” Brenden tensed. He witnessed the silent exchange pass between his father and his comrades. He’d been around these men long enough to know there were words best left unspoken. “What am I missing?” He glared at Josh and Linc before his father.

“Jas, Daniel died two years ago.” Josh sat on the edge of the bed. “Our last mission was in Mosul, and it was compromised. Rod’s still in critical condition and if it hadn’t been for you, shit, we’d all be dead.” He looked to the observation window. “And you may not remember her, but you love her. Paige means everything to you.”

“Brenden.” The doctor stepped forward, still writing on his pad. “You really can’t recall Paige as your wife?”

“No. No, sir, I can’t.”

The doctor moved closer and began asking simple questions. Date of birth, names of family, team members, college facts, and then nitty-gritty details of his childhood. Brenden remembered when he learned to ride a bicycle, the girl he took to prom, and his first car. Every biographical question was answered correctly and with full comprehension, until the doctor mentioned Elizabeth’s death.

Brenden had no recollection of his sister’s death or becoming Katie’s guardian. The simple truths confirmed the doctor’s preliminary CT and MRI scans revealing memory loss as a result of the head trauma. More tests along with a psych evaluation had to be performed to determine any and all abnormalities.

While the doctor rambled on, Brenden turned his attention back to the observation window. There was a woman standing on the other side who meant something to him. He couldn’t remember her kiss, touch, favorite color, or when he had said, “I love you.”

Truth was, he didn’t want to remember.