“Bro, what the hell happened to you? You look like you seen a fuckin’ ghost or somethin’.”

“I… don’t know?” I take a deep swallow of the beer in front of me but the man snatches it from me. How the fuck does he know about Lucy?

“It’s eleven o’clock in the morning. Chill out, brother.”

Man, a drink would help me right now. My brain’s buzzing, running over all these moments with my Lucy, wondering if she knows me, or if I knew her, or if this whole thing was just some fucked up coincidence.

From beside us, more bodies appear— faces that feel like family…Or something close to family…

“The fuck is wrong with you? And what happened to your cut?” says one of them.

Garrett. I recall his name easily. He approaches me looking relieved and I stand from the booth to hug him. I recognize him. I know him. I remember him. Thank fucking God I remember someone!

I get a punch on my bicep and want to laugh. Garrett, my blood brother who I’d give my life for is shaking me excitedly. I have to try keep my cool for now in case I’m wrong about the whole story here.

“The fuck is wrong with me? The fuck’s wrong with you?” I smile to show I’m only messing around. Everything feels like a dream where it’s almost real life but some bits are off about it. There’s some blanks I can’t fill in.

“I was fuckin’ worried sick, bro. Thought the worst but Mac wouldn’t let us trail you.”

“Garrett,” I say.

“Yeah, ya fuck. It’s fuckin’ Garrett. Who the fuck you think I am?”

“Leave him alone, G. Landon’s rockin’ a mean hangover or something.”

I take my palm and squeeze Garrett’s neck. My brother’s are back; My MC brothers. Garrett is with me. I’m safer than I was. I have someone on my side.

“Where’s Mac?” I recall some more memories. Maybe the context of the bar and my brothers is sparking some things. I remember I had something to do with him or for him.

“Aw, hell no,” Garrett says. “Ain’t no goddamn way in hell you’re chatting to Prez like this. We gotta get you sobered up before the apology you owe him.”

“Apology?” That seemed a more plausible scenario than I had in mind. Why did I think this would be easy? I’d thought before about how maybe I’d run, that’s why I was on the bike. Shit. “Is Prez pissed?”

“What’s with you? You know Mac don’t forgive that quick. You’ll be lucky if you get out of this with a fucking beating. Why the hell did you tear your patches off?”

“I don’t know…” I stumble over my words, trying to back away and running into another lump of human muscle. I turn and look up at his huge frame.

“Haven’t seen you this blackout since that fight with Mia. Someone knock you over the head or somethin’?” I notice a badge on this guy’s cut. Rev. It’s Rev. And suddenly I know I know him too. “Your brain’s mush, bro.”

“Can’t stop, won’t stop.” I mumble and shrug at him.

“Yeah, we know that,” Garrett says. “Get that ass on the couch. I’ll get the girls to cook you up some chow. You get some sleep and we’ll figure this out later.”

I sit down on the sofa, forced to recline by Garrett’s strength. “I’m good man,” I protest but he’ll have none of it.

“I know how stubborn you are. Now lay the fuck down before I put you to sleep.”

“Garrett,” I say. “We gotta talk about something serious. I need help.”

“I know you got shit to talk about. But Prez said if we see you back in town to have him speak to you first. You know I can’t be brought into more shit. If Prez thinks I’m hiding something from him about you, you know how he gets. I got the kid. I need Mac on my good side. You understand.”

I don’t fight him longer than that. I fucked up. I’ve got a punishment to face that might not be pretty. I forget about Lucy for a minute to save me the pain of thinking about our future. The sofa’s comfortable. I figure I could take a rest on it a few hours, be up ready to handle whatever Mac’s got in store then make it back to the motel before sunset.

Someone clears their throat.

I open my eyes into the room. Everything’s dark now but I can make out the outline in the doorway. Standing six-foot-six, bald, rough and weather worn…It’s Mac, who’s leaned up against the door frame. He switches on the bright, fluorescent lights and I squint hard adjusting to them.

“Up,” he tells me and gestures his head for me to follow him into the clubhouse behind the bar.

He doesn’t say another word until we’re sat at the table where church — the club’s official meetings — is held. He wipes his nose on his bandana and narrows his eyes to me.

“Talk.” His deep voice, the result of decades smoking two packs a day, croaks at me.

“I gotta start by letting you know I ain’t thinkin’ straight right now.”

“I don’t want your goddamn excuses, boy. You can’t handle your piss. That ain’t my worry.”

“I haven’t had a drink, Mac. No disrespect but I crashed my bike, hit my head. Spent the last couple days trying to figure out who the fuck I am… But being here, some things seem to be clearing up.”

“I couldn’t give two holy shits about how you feel now. What I needa know is why you abandoned this club in the first place. Why you walked away from your brothers, from me. I gave you fucking everything!” His fist beats the table and he stands up, pacing behind my chair. “You made a promise to me. You said you could handle this, that you wanted her, that you wanted this for the club and our families.”

He squeezes my face. I rage inside but don’t fight back. “Mac, Prez… I get you’re upset. I get it….But I’m missing some memories. I fell off my bike. I don’t know what you’re talking about right now.”

His knuckles crack and his hands land on my shoulders. “Seems convenient you’d lose your head at a time like this.”

“I swear to Christ, Mac, when I get it back I’ll take whatever punishment you got but thing is I don’t know what happened. I want to give you answers but I’ve got none. Hell, I can’t even remember my own address.”

His thick, ringed fingers squeeze my shoulders. I flinch.

“What do you remember?”

“Garrett, when I saw his face. I remember Mia… Or at least, I remember her fucking name. It’s on this ring…”

Mac groans. Some part of me remembers that sound… The sound someone heard right before a beatdown.

“I remember where I’ve been the last few days. I remember the accident. This girl, Lucy, she’s been taking care o’ me. She’s here with me. She can back up the story.”

“Lucy?” he spins me around to look at him. Almost comically, he asks, “Lucy Palermo? You did all this for Lucy fucking Palermo?”

“No… Her name is… Rivers. Lucy Rivers. She’s just the girl who found me the night I wrecked. Put my shoulder back in its fucking socket. She’s from down in Baddock National Park. Who the fuck is Lucy Palermo?”

“Kid…” I give him a blank look. “You don’t remember a Lucy Palermo in your life?” I shake my head. “Then you need a fucking hospital.”

“Mac, look, I don’t know why but I can’t go to a hospital. What if I get arrested?”

“You lose your goddamn balls in that accident? Get up. We’re taking you to get some help. Don’t you think for one second this is me letting you off the hook. Best believe one of the boys will be at your side twenty-four-seven watching what you’re up to. If I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll cut your motherfucking dick off. We’ll finish this conversation later. Got it?”

“Got it.”

We move through the clubhouse and bar where someone catches my elbow. “Landon,” she says. “Thought you were going for good.”

“…Mia.”

She looks at me with a smile.

“You back to apologize?” she says.

I did something to her too?

This woman looks nothing like Lucy. Mia is Italian, sexy, tough-looking with full lips, full hips and full tits. She’s got long curly black hair and fuck-me green eyes…. And they don’t do a goddamned thing for me. She moves in close, and all I want to do is run.

“You want Mami to cook you dinner tonight?” she whispers in my ear.

“Landon. Get out here. We’re taking you to the emergency room.”

I’m pulled away from Mia who I shrug an answer at.

“What the fuck?” she says with her hands presented and a face like a smacked ass. Her friends comfort her since I’m overwhelmed from being manhandled out of the place to apologize.

Garrett and Rev take me to the emergency unit and have me stashed me into the back of the MC’s cage like some stowaway. They have their music blasting loudly in the cab. I try yell over it through the black divider that separates me from them.

“Talk to me! The fuck is this?”

“I told you, brother, we can’t,” Garrett says.

I slap the cage hard. “I have questions!”

“Yeah, so do we, bro, but let’s save it a few days.”

“Who is Lucy?”

“Don’t give me that that shit, Landon.”

“Mac said I knew someone named Lucy Palermo.”

Rev turns the music up to an unbearable level then makes a sharp corner. I’m thrown at the side of the van as it hurtles onto the freeway. I give up for now and take a knee in the back beside a handlebar.

It isn’t long before a flashlight is shining directly in my eye against my will. The doctor checks my vitals and asks a few questions. Then a specialist comes in to quiz me on my memory. It’s tedious. I don’t need it. More and more, I’m willing to live with the amnesia if it means that I can keep from dealing with whatever club bullshit I managed to get myself into… You can’t hate someone who doesn’t remember what they did wrong. Best you can do is judge them on how they live their life from here on out. But I’m starting to think my life isn’t quite as ideal as I might want it to be. I made mistakes. I have to face the consequences.

“So, what’s the prognosis, Doc?” Garrett asks.

“It’s slightly abnormal post-trauma amnesia. It may take a few months until he’s really recouped but it shouldn’t be anything permanent. He’s recognized you both already and any facts about himself should come back in a few days. It’s just lucky he was wearing his helmet. Mr. Ellers, you really should’ve come to us right after the accident. Next time it happens, you might not be so lucky.”

“Lucky? Ha.” I cough a laugh at her.

“Right. Well, listen, there’s no magic drug to cure this except Father Time. I’ve got a prescription for some pain meds for you and something to aid memory function. Follow the dosage instructions, keep away from situations that might cause further head trauma, like drinking, motorcycle accidents and fighting, and do the best you can to keep stress levels down. It can exacerbate memory problems.”

“Best keep your distance from Mia then, hey bro?” Garrett says with a hearty chuckle.

“Why?” I ask.

“G, not now,” Rev cuts in. “What’d the doc just fuckin’ say?”

“So, I’m free to go?”

“It’s up to you, Mr. Ellers. You’re welcome to stay in a shared room and we’ll check in on you periodically to see if your condition deteriorates. However, since it’s been days since the accident anyway, your cheapest option would be head home and get some rest then report back if you get any unusual headaches or you feel anything out of the ordinary. Your condition isn’t bad but you’re fragile. Be very cautious.”

“Landon doesn’t know cautious, ma’am, but we’ll keep him in line for you. He’s going back to the clubhouse and we’re not going to let him go anywhere…”

“I need to talk to Lucy before we go back,” I protest.

“Don’t worry about Lucy. Mac is taking care of that little problem.”