I take another bite of dinner, glancing at my plate, avoiding his heated stare. What the hell does he remember? It can’t be a coincidence, his roughness with my remark. “Yeah, just a name I heard that seems to fit you.” I don’t elaborate where Iheardthis name.
His jaw is tight, and he reaches for his water glass, taking a small sip. “You think I’m a bad boy?”
I gesture at his arm. “The tattoos are a dead giveaway. Do you remember the significance of any of them?” I want to ask about the star tattoo on his chest, the same one I’ve seen.
“Do I remember why I have ink on my arms? No,” he says. “Just like I can’t recall my name. But I’m certain that Bearded Bad Boy isn’t it.” He takes several more bites of food, but I get the distinct impression that it’s to show me that he’s done speaking, at least about his name.
Why get into such a frenzy over the nickname? Is it him, and he remembers something shady or sinister from his past?
He finishes eating before I’m done and begins clearing the dishes and putting the uneaten and leftover meals into the fridge. It’s like he’s telling me it’s time for me to finish up and leave without saying a word.
After eating, I clear my dishes and rinse the remaining dishware in the sink before loading the dishwasher. “I should go.” It doesn’t seem like he wants me hanging around, and I’ve insulted him, whether intending to or not.
His jaw remains tense as he walks me toward the door. “Thank you for all that you’ve done. But it isn’t necessary.”
“I’d say having a roof over your head is necessary. The weather forecast is calling for rain tonight. You’re welcome.”
He exhales a breathy sigh and opens the door. “I do appreciate all that you’ve done for me—”
There’s a silence that follows. Has he forgotten my name, or is it something else? I opt to remind him of my name. He’s been in a coma. I wouldn’t fault him for forgetting who I am. “It’s Sadie,” I say.
“I know. I’d never forget you,” he whispers. The roughness dissipates like smoke wafting away and out of an open window.
“Of course not, just yourself,” I say, and smile, attempting to make a joke. It’s not a great one, and he doesn’t laugh.
Probably because it’s true and painful. “Where did you come up with yourfunnickname for me?” He holds the door open, and I stand inside the entryway, waiting to leave. I should bail before I confess the stupidest and most ridiculous reasoning for the little name that I bestowed on him.
“It’s ridiculous,” I say, stalling. Why does he have to bring it up?
“You didn’t just derive it from thin air.”
Does he know? Could he be remembering the past? I doubt that if he does, he’ll remember any semblance of me. And that’s far-reaching for me to think thatBearded Bad Boyin the VR world ishim.
“My niece has a video game she likes to play with other people. One of those gamers isBearded Bad Boy,” I say. “You just… the name seemed fitting.”
His eyes crinkle with the hint of a smile. “Is that so?”
I point toward the door that remains open. “I should go,” I say. He’s made it clear that he’s asking me to leave, escorting me out the door. Besides, he’s a stranger. How much do I know about him? He could be a murderer, and I might be his next target. Getting shot in the forest and being left for dead might be a warning.
“I’ll see you around, Sadie.”
The way he says my name makes my stomach flutter like I’m in middle school all over again. Except, this time, I’m helping a man I know nothing about. If I told anyone, they’d warn me to steer clear. He’s dangerous or, at the very least, involved with men who want him dead.
* * *
“Sadie!” I waltz into work two days later, and my boss, Connor, gestures for me to join him in his office.
Inwardly, I grimace. My stomach flops, and I’m filled with dread. I drag my feet as I shuffle into his office.
“Close the door,” he says.
“Is something wrong, sir?” I ask.
“Care to explain why a guest is staying in one of the rooms marked in our system as unavailable?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I keep my hands at my sides and do my best not to fidget or appear guilty. What I did wasn’t that bad. There are worse crimes to commit. I helped a guy out. We had an empty room at the hotel.
“You checked a guest into a room that needed repairs. This morning, I had one of our maintenance team inspect the room since you failed to comment on what made the room unavailable. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a guest was occupying that room.”