Heart of Steel

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I awoke in what seemed the dead of night, as the only thing I could see was a man asleep in the chair across the room, dully illuminated by a soft layer of moonlight that shone through the room's solitary window. It was James. Seeing his face jolted my memory back to the flashback I had just seen and the reason that I was panting with my heart racing and a cold sweat covering my skin, causing my gown and sheets to stick to me. My mother's Funeral. What a horrible day to remember. If my dream had been an accurate playback of the event, then I hadn't even gone to her Burial. I couldn't blame myself, as even watching it in my dream was terrible enough to wake me from a deep sleep, but I still wondered if I had ever gone back to see her grave. Steelman had told James yesterday (or at least what I remembered to be yesterday, as I wasn't quite sure how long I had been out) that I didn't remember anything that had happened over the last 2 and a half years. Pairing that information with what James told me about when she passed, I could only assume that meant that I was somewhere in the middle of 20 and 21 in age, and that my mom had been gone for almost that long.

The pain in my chest was still just as bad, but now it had seemed to radiate throughout the rest of my body as well, causing me to feel as though I had fallen off a cliff or been hit by a semi-truck. I didn't want to think about the scene I had witnessed, nor what James had told me. But the reality was that I would never see my beautiful, damn near perfect mother again. I'd never hear her vibrant, sing-song voice, never see those piercingly green eyes, never get to feel her soft hands caressing my hair like they always used to when we hugged. I broke out into audible sobs, not bothering to keep the volume down, as James was still fast asleep. My heart was completely broken, and I was unimaginably angry with my father for sending one of his employees to do his dirty work for him. He should have been the one to tell me about my mom! Come to think of it though, that sounded exactly like the man I remembered. My dad and I had never really gotten along, from what I could recall. Even if I hadn't remembered that, though, I would have guessed it from the fact that I referred to him as Kendrick in my mind when I was remembering the funeral. He was power hungry, even before he became a Senator, and money was his most favorite thing on Earth. He fully believed that it was my mom's job to raise me, teach me, and even love me. He thought he had his part covered by merely providing for us financially. What a douche, I thought savagely.

"Kasey?" I heard James mutter sleepily, pulling me back to the present moment and causing me to jump a little in surprise.

"Hi James." I replied.

"How are you feeling?" He said after stretching his arms and torso and trying but failing to suppress a huge yawn.

"Heartbroken." I said, tears filling my eyes once more. They had begun to slightly subside when I had been thinking of how much I dislike my father.

James stood up and walked quickly to my side, kneeling on one knee and grabbing my left hand in his.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He said quietly. I could hear the concern in his voice. This brought me back to how I had felt about him after Mom's funeral; like he was the closest thing I had ever had to a real father. I couldn't help myself. I lifted my right hand and reached over to the front of James' shirt, shocked that I could move this much and this quickly, then grabbed it and pulled him gently into a hug. James stiffened in shock, then moved his left hand to the back of my head to stroke my hair comfortingly, just as my mom used to do. This caused more tears, but James didn't seem to mind. He straightened up and sat down on the bed beside me, waiting patiently for me to calm down, much like he had done when we were standing on the side of the road after I had ditched the Funeral Home. When I caught my breath, I pulled back and looked into his kind face.

"I remembered the funeral. I left before it even started and walked down the highway barefoot. You came and picked me up in the limo and asked me-"

"If you wanted to go home." he finished, a sad look of comprehension on his face as he nodded.

"Thank you." I said, which must have taken him by surprise as he pulled his head back a few inches, eyes widening, a look of slight confusion on his face.

"For what?" he asked.

"Being there for me. During the funeral, and now."

James stared at me in deep thought for quite a few seconds. I wasn't sure what was going through his mind, but I figured I might as well elaborate all the same.

"I understand that it's your job to protect me as best you can, but you don't have to care. You don't have to support me emotionally, as you obviously have and still are. You could be just as callused as Steelman, but you aren't. And I really appreciate that. You mean a lot to me, James."

The last 2 sentences were hard for me to get out as my emotions were getting the best of me once again. James must have felt the same, because his eyes began to fill with tears too.

"I'm glad you feel that way. But Steel isn't as callused as you think, Kasey. He just... doesn't like to mix work with personal feelings. He likes to keep things professional. It's easier for him that way."

I furrowed my brow in confusion, wondering why he was coming to Steelman's defense. Maybe they had just been partners for a while and he had grown fond of him. Either way, the man seemed unnecessarily harsh to me. Something stirred in my memory upon thinking of him that I wanted to ask James, but it was going to require a confession first.

"I heard you two talking yesterday." I said simply.

"Oh?" said James, seeming mildly interested, clearly still lost in thought about something else.

"Yep."

"And what did you hear?" he asked, deciding to meet my eyes this time.

"Steelman said that the Senator sent him specifically for a reason. I don't quite understand that." I said.

I could practically see the wall of secrecy slamming back down between us as James considered the statement carefully.

"Unfortunately I'm not at liberty to explain that to you." he said slowly.

"I was afraid you'd say that." I said, defeated.

"Oh, well. I guess I just need to start accepting that Kendrick calls all the shots and right now he doesn't want me to know much of anything."

James seemed taken aback when I mentioned Kendrick's name, but he gave me a small smile and patted my head gently.

"You'll know what you need to, soon." he said vaguely.

I wasn't giving up on the search for answers, but I thought it might work to my advantage if James thought I was for now.

Over the next few weeks, I endured countless hours of physical therapy, counseling and visits from Dr. Mooney, Dr. Chad, several nurses, and three of my dad's bodyguards. James came the most, but I also met a different guard named Sam that was pretty close to me in age. He was 23 and very talkative. We got along very well. We happened to like a lot of the same music, books and shows, and talking about them helped me to remember a lot of details from my past. I still couldn't seem to recall anything past my prom night, save the flashback dream of my mother's Funeral, though. Dr. Wimble, my therapist, said that the trauma of her death probably had a lot to do with me not remembering past that point. However, Dr. Wimble had high hopes that we could break through the barrier with some cognitive memory exercises over the next few months. Steelman remained quiet most of the time and barely ever cracked a smile. I got to the point where I considered it a challenge to try and get him to engage in such human activity as laughing and small talk. On the last day of my long stay in the hospital, he had been sent to collect my things and bring me back to Kendrick's house.

"So, did you draw the short straw?" I asked musingly as I stood up slowly, using my walking stick for support.

"Hmm?" he asked in confusion.

"Didn't think you'd willingly volunteer to be the one to escort me home." I said with a small grin.

He chuckled and shook his head slightly. Success! I thought triumphantly.

"You're getting your humor back, I see." he said, smiling at me.

"And you actually have some." I retorted.

He snorted and rolled his eyes as he picked up the navy blue duffel bag with my clothes and toiletries in it. I was so happy to be in real clothes again. It felt glorious.

"What's your first name?" I asked randomly, causing him to stop searching the room around us for any items we may have missed while packing and look at me.

"Shane" he said simply.

Shane... I liked that so much better. I decided that's what I would call him from now on.

"How come?" he asked.

I shrugged.

"I just don't like calling people by their last names."

"You could call me Steel... everyone else does." he said.

I shook my head, scrunching my nose up in a look of dislike.

"That makes you sound like some sort of robot."

Shane burst out laughing, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. I stared at him quizzically, thinking this was a bit of an overreaction. When he stopped laughing, he cleared his throat and gave his head another small shake.

"Sorry, you just reminded me of… an old friend. That person didn't like calling me Steel either." he said, apparently not willing to elaborate any further.

"I just need to go pick up your discharge papers." he said as he walked towards the door.

"Be right back."

I nodded and turned around to check the room one last time. Suddenly, I remembered the ring that had been on my finger the day after I had woken up. Now that I thought about it, I hadn't seen it since that day. The last time I remembered seeing it was before I woke up and heard Shane and James talking. I hadn't seen Nikki since that day either, and when I had asked about her, the other nurses simply said she hadn't been assigned to my floor. Had she taken it? Surely not, or why would she have even given it back to me in the first place? I furrowed my brow, opening the drawers of the bedside table to check there. Nothing. Uh oh... I thought. How strange was it that I hadn't even given that thing another minute's thought, or remembered any details about it? When I first saw it, I was sure that it had been given to me by someone else, like a boyfriend... But weeks later, no one had mentioned the ring or the fact that I had been in a relationship. It must have taken place within the time period that I still couldn't remember. But, if it did come from someone, why hadn't they come to see me? The only answers I had gotten out of anyone concerning the accident so far were that it was a car accident, and I was the only person in the car at the time. By now it was clear to me that Kendrick's minions were going to obey his orders to keep me in the dark, so it was going to be up to me to investigate what was going on... and I planned to do just that.