(un)forgettable

3 High Living

Luc

Fuck, no.

No, no, no. no.

I'm definitely not in my shitty room. I'm not in Ton's condo or Mark's family home. There's a bright LED light on the ceiling, a hospital smell, and a white plastic curtain hiding the rest of the room from me. And I'm lying on a narrow bed, more suitable for a quick medical examination than for actual sleeping. My left arm and shoulder are bandaged so tight I can barely move them. I was probably given some really good painkillers because I feel kind of numb and a bit dizzy. My jacket's gone, but thank god, I'm in my shirt and trousers, and my sneakers are on the floor by the bed, neatly put side by side, and... are they cleaned? What the fuck.

I vaguely remember last night's events – the big bang and how I was lying by the road thinking I'd die there. I remember pain in my shoulder and sitting in a car with Fort, though, maybe that was a dream. I'll deal with my memories later when I'm safe, free, and home.

I'm not tied up, which is good, and my phone is lying on the tray beside the bed – also good. I grab it and get off the bed.

But shit.

Fort's head pops out from behind the curtain like he's been listening and waiting for this moment the whole time.

"You are up!" he says with this kind little smile of his. Annoyingly handsome with perfectly styled hair, in his perfectly ironed white shirt. "Don't freak out," he says, pulling the curtain to the side.

It's a lab. I'm in a fucking laboratory! And I'm definitely freaking out now.

This is what my nightmares are made of – waking up in a lab with tubes coming out of my body and a masked man with a knife leaning over me. The worst part is that I never wake up until I'm cut into pieces and packed into bags. Recently, though, in my worst nightmare, Fort is lying next to me in bed, and no matter how sweet and amazing the beginning of the dream is, the end is always the same – Fort is dead, staring up at me with glassy, motionless eyes.

I swallow, clutch my phone with both hands, and scan the room for the nearest exit.

"You know kidnapping is a crime, right?" My voice is hoarse like I haven't used it in a while.

"Hear me out first, okay? Then, you are free to go." Fort gives me a slow nod with raised eyebrows, eyes big, pleading. "You can leave now, but I will pester you until we have the talk." He's looking at me like an overgrown puppy.

The guy is ruthless. My heart can't take it, I can't keep saying no to Fort. I'm not strong enough. How dare he look so gorgeous and be so devious? My voice of wisdom lost this battle. My brain can just retire now, no one is listening to it anyway, a useless piece of meat.

Fuck, those painkillers are awesome.

I sit on the bed, hands across my chest, a defiant look on my face.

"Talk," I demand, deliberately not looking at Fort.

"Yesterday, I found you unconscious, with a gunshot wound. I knew I couldn't take you to a hospital. Right?" I nod, tightly. "So I took you here. Trust me, it's safe here. We are at the university. This is my aunt's lab. She's... um," he pauses and runs his hand through his perfect hair. "Your ability..." Of course, this is about the Forgettizer. I can't stop the involuntary – but absolutely necessary – eye roll. Fort's not interested in me, he's after my ability. "It's just... Well..." Fort struggles with words. "Okay." He takes a deep breath and continues, "The thing is, my aunt is a neuroscientist. She's great. She knows brains and memory. And she can help you with your... thing." He throws me a hesitant look. "To learn about it and control it, maybe." And then he hastily adds, "If you want to, of course. It's your choice. It's just an option, an offer."