Forgive and Forget(8)

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Joe said, his hands up at his sides to show he didn’t intend to pull anything funny. He hadn’t exactly thought about what he’d do once the guy woke up. Smart, Joe. Very smart.

It wasn’t like he was a weakling. He was six feet tall, after all, and though not overly muscular, still strong enough. Of course, the man above him was big and solid, at least twenty to thirty pounds heavier than Joe, with an added three to four inches in height. From the feel of hard thigh muscles pressed firmly against Joe’s ribs, the broadness of his chest, the strength in his arms, and a look that said “try it and I’ll throw you across the room without breaking a sweat,” Joe realized he might have bitten off a little more than he could chew. His best option would be to reason with the man. If all else failed, well, then, he would simply have to punch the guy and hope for the best.

“My friends and I found you in the garden downstairs, just outside my shop. Remember? You went unconscious, so I was trying to wake you up. You might have a concussion.” Joe hoped his smile didn’t look as shaky as it felt.

The man moved his free hand to the back of his head and winced. Well, at least he knew Joe hadn’t been lying about that.

“I’m Joe. And you are…?”

“I….” The man’s dark brows drew together. He seemed to genuinely struggle with a reply. For a moment Joe thought maybe the guy was trying to bide himself some time to come up with some bull story, but when he turned his gaze back to Joe, Joe was stunned to see the panic there. “I—oh God, I don’t know.”

Just when he thought things couldn’t get any stranger.

The man jumped to his feet and backed up as he frantically looked around the room. “Where the hell am I? Why can’t I remember anything?” Spotting the window, he rushed over to it and squinted out into the dark streets. “What city is this?”

Joe gradually stood, not wanting to make any sudden movements. “You’re in my apartment, above my shop in Manhattan. New York City.” He felt a pang in his chest as the guy went frightfully still.

“New York? Am I supposed to be in New York? I can’t remember anything before… before now.” He closed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth. It was obvious he was racking his brain for whatever information might be in there. Joe wished there was something he could do, but it was out of his hands. It wasn’t as if he could offer any help. He’d never seen the man before tonight.

“Let’s take things slow,” Joe said reassuringly. “You were out for a good while, and I’m guessing the nasty bump on your head has something to do with why you’re having trouble remembering. I’m sure it’ll come back to you. You just have to take it easy.” He motioned to the couch. “Come on. Sit down. You’re safe here.”

The man eyed him warily. “I’m fine standing.”

“Okay. My name is Joe Applin. I own the pie and coffee shop downstairs. I brought you up here because you needed help and you refused to go to a hospital.”

Something seemed to have occurred to the guy because he marched over to Joe, his menacing growl giving Joe a start. “Did you call the cops?”

Joe took a step back. “What? No. You said no cops.” Was it possible the guy couldn’t remember? Joe didn’t have a clue about this sort of thing other than what he saw in Hollywood. Amnesia? Really? This whole situation was like something out of one of Bea’s Lifetime movies. Joe couldn’t help his skepticism. “Listen, why don’t you rest for a bit? Don’t overdo it. My friend’s a nurse, but she’s at work at the moment. Are you feeling sick at all or dizzy?” The guy shook his head and Joe breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, then. Well, she said I need to keep you up for a while, and if you go to sleep, you need to be observed. We’ll see what she has to say when she gets here and take it from there, okay?”

“Why would you help me?” The man took a step closer. Joe instinctively did the same before taking a step in the opposite direction. The guy sure had an imposing way about him, one that had Joe ready to bolt. It would be wise not to underestimate his guest. Lack of memory didn’t mean the man was incapable of who knew what. Maybe he wasn’t thinking this through enough.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“You expect me to believe you brought me up here out of the goodness of your heart?” Something dangerous flashed in the man’s silver eyes. Before Joe had a chance to figure out what it was, the guy threw a hand out and grabbed Joe’s arm. He jerked Joe hard against him. “Maybe you brought me up here for something else.” His eyes dropped to Joe’s lips before moving back up. “I don’t have any money. Were you hoping I’d repay you some other way?”

The realization of what the guy was saying boiled Joe’s blood, and he shoved the stranger away from him. Of all the nerve! “Are you kidding me? I drag your heavy ass up here, welcome you into my home, and you accuse me of trying to take advantage of you?”

The man narrowed his eyes again, his head cocked to one side as he studied Joe. “Why else would you help me? What’s your motive?”

“Motive? Who are you? Columbo? How about to help a fellow human being? I know it’s hard for you to trust anyone right now, so I’m going to ignore your insult, but you’re lucky I’m the one who found you because I’m probably the only one dumb enough to listen to you when you said no cops. I sell pies. I’m not an evil mastermind.” He motioned around him to his small but cozy apartment. “This isn’t exactly Meteora.”