Upcoming of Dawn

• chapter four •

Leo's POV
Six Years Earlier

Pain. That's all I feel as I gain consciousness. Red hot searing pain.

Pain that feels like hell.

I groan, rolling onto my side only to clench my jaw against the onslaught of more pain. It feels like I got ran over by a semi truck.

When I blink my eyes open, the room around me is dark but at least I can see what it is. It's a full bedroom and a door off to the right that must lead to a bathroom.

What the fuck happened to me?

I can't remember.

I place a hand against my throbbing head, closing my eyes tightly before opening them up again and attempting to sit up straight.

I get there but not without a shit ton of pain and cursing.

I look around, unable to remember anything about where I am, how I got here, or what the fuck is going on.

Why can't I remember anything?

I mean—I remember my goddamn name but that's pretty much all.

The door to my room opens and a bulky guy with a shit eating smirk walks in.

"Leo Asel! I'm so glad your awake, buddy, you fucking aced your mission," he says, clapping me on the back and making me hiss out in pain.

He takes his hand away. "Shit man, didn't know you were still going to be in so much pain."

"What the fuck happened?" I ask, trying to keep my tone even. But I don't even know who this is.

Whoever the guys is, rubs a hand across his chin and says, "Max, your friend of eight years dickhead. We were at a meeting with the polish when we got raided and you took a hard hit to the head. What's the problem? Forgetting you almost died?"

He seems to be comfortable joking with me only it isn't a goddamn joke.

I don't remember anything.

So yes, I did forget that I almost died.

I say nothing, letting the silence take over the room as he stares at me and I give him a deadpan look. Something crosses over his face before his eyes widen.

"Shit," he curses, pacing the room. "You really did lose your memory."

I roll my eyes. "No shit."

He scoffs. "Well—what the hell do I do now? You can't exactly jump back into everything."

I shake my head. "I don't even know what everything entails."

He runs a hand over his face as if this is the worst predicament we could find ourselves in. And then he starts nodding his head as if he just had a conversation with himself and decided what to do.

"What is it?" I ask, trying to stretch my limbs as I sit down.

"We can start from scratch," he says, taking a seat on the bed. "Teach you everything about the business again."

I'm nodding too. I'm not sure what I was before or who I was or what I even did but if I can have someone help show me the ropes that'll be useful. Especially if he claims to be my friend for eight years.

Friends are useful in these situations.

Only—-is he really my friend?

Or is this some messed up horror murder movie type of thing?

I wouldn't put it past anyone.

I clear my throat. "That sounds good. But maybe that's something for later, yeah? I could use a shower."