***LONDON’S POV***
I do not know how long I had been passed out but when I flick my eyes open, I hear a few nurses talking to the doctor.
“Please, can I get some water?” I manage to ask.
The people in the room all look surprised before a red-haired nurse walks up to the side of the bed, holding out a bottle of water for me to drink. Good thing there was a straw on it.
“Slowly. You still haven’t recovered all of your strengths,” she says, a polite smile tainting her kids.
I nod, hating how my head hurts at that small encounter.
“Where am I?” I ask after the nurse steps back away from me.
“Do you remember anything from your accident?” The doctor’s voice calls out.
My brain had a small fog in it, it made it have to think, but looking at myself, I looked beaten up.
“Not really,” I force my brain to think.
From the blurred vision I had, I knew my eyes were half closed. I hated it, but still, what could I do?
“Hmm! You need to rest, your brain needs time to relax,” he says nicely.
I just stare at him, wondering what next.
He arranged the side of my head, making sure the IV running into my hand was going in hell. I close my eyes, trying to digest all these things happening around me.
“She is awake? let me see her,” I hear a very familiar voice calling out outside.
“You will need to be as gentle as possible, she might be having problems remarking your faces or names, but give it probably a short while,” the doctor says to someone outside.
My eyes are still shut, but I feel someone’s presence the moment they step into the room.
“London?” the familiar voice calls out to me.
My entire being wants to put a face to that voice, the desire to claim whoever has it is stronger than me feigning to be asleep right now.
Flashing my eyes open, I see him, the most handsome man I have ever met, and then, like a dream, all of the memories start rushing into my head.
It starts with me being with Mason, and our parents loving us. The night we got a call that they died, me moved out to go to school in New York.
I see my time with Oliver flash between my eyes, and then, how I begged for help, knowing that if Mason doesn’t help me run away from my abusive ex, he is going to kill me.
I was never going to tell Mason the real reason why I asked for that amount, I was too much of a coward to open up to my brother about my abusive ex beating me.
Then, images of how I opened my eyes the first time and saw Zane Vincenzo at the hospital. How he had claimed me with that kiss.
He had told me I was his but I thought he was bluffing.
I just didn’t know how intense he was.
The time we spent together, Zane has always been firmed with me, but I don’t think he has caused any lasting damage.
The marriage, the honeymoon. All these memories flash into my mind. And one man does too.
Michael Logan. At the thought of him, I know what happened, he is the reason why I am here today.
He had asked me to come with him so that he could show me my husband’s secret.
Fuck! Zane is a criminal, but he wouldn’t leave me in a car with no brakes. Damn it, Zane would have saved me and ended up in this place.
The shape of my arm turned to an ugly end and the car being suspended upside down.
All those bad memories rush to my mind, cringing wasn’t enough, a full body sob rocks through my body.
Opening my mouth to the softest of cries, it soon develops into a full body shiver as I cry out.
“Zane?” the first word finally left my mouth, grateful that it was his name.
“Shit! It is me. You remember me?” Zane’s face lits up as he falls down on his knees beside my bed, crying into the crook of my neck.
I whimper in pain, but I need him closer to me, I need that respite more than anything.
“Come on now!” he blows out softly.
“I have my memories, Zane. But my whole body hurts,” I cry out.
Zane pushes away from me and mutters weakly,
“I am sorry baby, but I am never leaving you again. In fact, I will find a way to our a tracker in you,” he says, nodding to himself as if he has just done me a favor.
A wave of dizziness hits me and I close my eyes. I don’t know how but I find myself sleeping again.
**
***ZANE’S POV***
The moment I discover that London has zoned out on me, I place a kiss on her wrapped head, leaving the room.
The doctor has asked to see me, so, I make my way to his office. I make a stop first at the reception hall.
Three days. That is how long it has taken me to see London and yet, she looked still roughed up by the accident.
I hate that she has to go through this pain, but she has to know that I wasn’t kidding when I said I would have a tracker chip put in her. I bet one would be in her before she leaves this hospital.
Entering the waiting hall, everybody stands, staring at me expectantly.
“I saw her, I guess all it took was for her to see me for the memories to come back,” I tell him.
“Oh, thank God!” Casey says.
The ladies have been crying nonstop, and the men wouldn’t let them come here unless they had their emotions in check. I guess that had worked because as exhausted as they looked, they had stopped shedding tears.
“Can we see her?” Rio asks.
“No. She passed out when I was trying to have a conversation with her. That is bad enough still. I was heading to the doctor’s office before I said I should check out on you guys first to keep you all updated,” I explain.
They nod their heads in understanding and they return to their seats. Russell doesn’t, he walks me out of the reception hall before he starts talking.
“We are all here for you, Zane,” he says.
Wrinkles flash at the corners of his eyes and he squeezes my arms before we continue walking.
“Thank you. I would stand by any of you if this wasn’t me,” I tell him.
“I know, Zane. We stand by one another as Vincenzos. Now, go talk to the doctor. We are still searching for that fucker that hurt your wife,” he mouths out his encouragement.
Leaving him, I take the elevator car, waiting for it to lead me to the doctor’s office.
I knock once, and when his replies come through the door, I just my way in.
“Mr. Vincenzo,” he says, a tight smile pulling his face as he stands up.
“Oh, please, call me Zane,” he says.
“Dr. Martin,” he mutters friendly.
I take the seat in front of him and start munching on the cookies he has from the jar.
The doctor rolls his eyes at that, and I smile. I can’t help good old cookies from the doctor’s office.
“I have your wife’s file and as you know, the only reason you are seeing it is because of the fact that you are listed as the patient’s husband,” he says.
I nod my head, taking another bite.
“The police say no one was found in the car London was driving, but again, she was found on the passenger side of the vehicle,” I demanded.
“Yes, of course,” he replies in acceptance.
He hands me the Manila file and I dig into it. A series of pictures are inside, London is there in the car at the scene of the accident. The pictures of her at the hospital, bloody and her clothes tattered are also there.
“Wow!” I mutter out.
I pick out the medical report and scroll through it. When I read through a line I stop, my head whipping up to face the doctor.
Drugs in the patient’s blood.
Dr. Martin must have realized what had caused the stir because he spoke up.
“I ran several blood tests which came out positive. Pregnancy test and the drug test in her bloodstream,” he says.
“London doesn’t do drugs,” I say more to myself than to the doctor.
“Well, the test results don’t lie,” Dr. Martins says plainly.
I knew there was more to this than I even wanted to know.
“And the baby?” I ask, holding my breath.
The doctor looks at me, and he nods small.
“He is fine. We did our best to save the little baby. If he was a few weeks below twenty, it would have been difficult to save his life,” he says.
My eyes widen at the mention of a boy.
“A boy?” I inquire in shock.
Dr. Martins smiles warmly at me.
“Yes. A boy,” he replies curtly.
“Does the police know about the drug part?” I ask.
“No, but we need to relay information to them about the cause of the accident. If there was a missing person… It seems so by evidence, or if it was purely an attack. Then, the police need to start working on finding who the criminal is,” he says.
“My men will see you about this issue, I don’t want any of the drugs part added to her medical report,” I explain.
Dr. Martins knows the way we deal around here. Probably been in the business for so long now.
“Noted,” he replies.
Standing, I shake his hand firmly, knowing I meant the words that were said.
“And I noticed it is hard for London to keep up with me, she keeps passing out on me,” I explain.
“She has a concussion. She needs to be monitored closely though,” he let out.
“Alright. That wouldn’t be a problem. She seems to have her memories brought back when she saw me earlier,” I tell him proud of that little secret being exposed.
The doctor’s eyes bulge before he regains his composure.
“Good. We still have to keep her with us. Her arm isn’t broken, so, there is no need for a cast, but she will have to rest a lot to heal properly,” Dr. Martin let out.
“She is stubborn,” I huff out the words aggressively.
Dr. Martin chuckles but doesn’t judge me.
“You are the husband, Zane. Women treasure dominant men. Make her rest for the sake of the baby. You need to make sure that she doesn’t overstress herself,” he warns.
“I promise you to do my best about it,” I promise him.
Walking out of the doctor’s office, I make my way to the reception hall.
“Russell, Rio, Alex, come with me please,” I say.
They follow me to the parking lot, where we can discuss without being heard.
“What is it, Zane?” Alexandro asks, his eyes on me.
“Where did the accident take place again?” I ask frowning at them.
“Around the east side of town,” Rio responds.
“What’s up with it?” Russell asks frowning.
“We were wondering what she would be doing there, well, I just found out the reason. The warehouses are so close to the part, and it is the only reason why Michael will take London to that kind of a place,” I explain.
“You don’t make sense, Zane,” Rio says.
I look at them trying to explain my situation to them.
“The doctor found a drug in London’s bloodstream. It means one thing, that Michael took London to the warehouse. The bastard,” I screech out.
“You think he did that?” Alex asks.
“I know he did that,” I say with all certainty.