Meeting the Gangleader

Chapter 21

*Brittanys P.O.V*

I hear my hospital door open and close but don't open my eyes to see who it is.

It's probably just another nurse coming to check on me.

Or it could be Karly.

I slept for about an hour after Karly left, and I woke up when a nurse came in to check on me.

Ever since then I've been trying to figure my life out.

Thinking about all of the thing I might not ever know.

All of the childhood memories I might not get back.

The connections I had with people I might not get back.

I know my name is Brittany, and I know that I'm 18.

But that's basically all I remember, except a few memories here and there with people I don't remember.

What I find weird is that none of my friends have came to visit.

My parents haven't visited either.

Do I have friends?

Are my parents still alive?

"Brittany," I hear a voice whisper hoarsely.

They have a deep voice, and it's obviously a guys voice.

They sound like they've been crying recently.

Could their tears be for me?

His voice is hot.

It makes me want to open my eyes, but I want to see what he says.

"I can't believe this happened to you... This is all my fault." The guys voice cracks as he talks, and I feel him lightly grab my hand, sparks exploding from the contact.

How can it be his fault? Was he driving the car?

"I shouldn't have gotten involved with you in the first place. You were just so beautiful, and had an amazing personality. I just couldn't stay away... I just... Brittany... I-I think... I think I love you." He mumbles.

He thinks he loves me?

My eyes snap open in surprise, meeting gorgeous green ones.

I gasp in surprise, and suddenly butterflies rush to my stomach.

He has brown hair, that is sticking up in all directions, and it looks like he either runs his hands through it a lot, or he just rolled out of bed.

But it works for him.

He's dressed nicely, with black ripped skinny jeans, a red tank top, and a black and red flannel on top.

To put it bluntly, he's hot.

He seems so familiar.

Why can't I remember him?

He quickly pulls his hand away from mine, and stands.

"I-I'm sorry. I know you don't remember me... Uhm... I thought you were asleep." He mumbles not making eye contact.

My heart aches in my chest, and I just wish I could remember him.

He seems like he was important to me.

I clear my throat and sit up, struggling a bit.

He looks like he's about to help me but stops himself.

"Sit," I say quietly, and point to the chair next to me.