Sage: A Second-Chance MMA Romance Novella (A Cocky Cage Fighter Legacy Book 2) by Lane Hart (top 10 novels .TXT) 📕

dad is probably ready to kill Sage!” I say, completely frozen in place. “It was a miracle he didn’t the first time he dumped me.” There are more heavy knocks, but I just shake my head and get to my feet. “Will you get it? Tell him I’m in the shower and I don’t feel like company, that I’ll call later.”

“I’ll try,” Miriah says with a sigh as she gets to her feet and starts to the door while I run to my bedroom, shutting the door and locking it behind me. I know I can’t hide from my father, from the world forever, but for now, I just don’t want to talk about Sage. I wish I wasn’t even thinking about him. But it’s impossible to stop.

Chapter Fifteen

Sage

“So, you’re confident that all of your memories have returned?” Dr. Henley asks after shining the blinding light in my eyes. “Dr. Granberg in Fairfax noted that you were unable to recall previous years or the details of what lead to your hospitalization.”

“Yes, I remember everything except for the actual fight,” I answer, feeling odd having my parents and brother with me in the doctor’s office since I’m nearly twenty-seven.

“More or less than half an hour of the night?” he asks.

“I remember my brother was late to help me warm up, then he showed up and I went out to the arena. That’s it, so about, what, fifteen minutes?” I ask my parents since they would know.

“That’s right,” my Dad agrees. “No more than fifteen minutes from the introduction and the illegal knee hit in the second round.”

“Then that’s to be expected, and nothing to be overly concerned about. Otherwise, do you feel like yourself again, Sage?” he asks, putting the light away to remove a pen from his coat pocket to jot down notes.

“Mostly, yes,” I respond.

“Mostly?” Mom prods and the doctor asks me to elaborate on what I mean by that.

“I remember everything, the previous years and months, but the last few days are still sort of hazy, like they were almost a dream, or that I was someone else entirely,” I admit as I recall the things I said to Eden about missing her, loving her and wanting to give up fighting. I can’t believe I told her all of that. “I just felt…different.”

“He acted different too,” Tal chimes in to say.

“How do you mean?” Dr. Henley asks.

Looking at me, he says, “Sage was eating junk food he doesn’t normally touch, and he was…desperate for attention from his ex-girlfriend.” That’s one way of saying I couldn’t keep my hands off of Eden without giving our parents too much information.

“That’s not unusual,” the doctor says.

“It’s not?” Tal asks him.

“No, it’s quite common to experience uncharacteristic feelings and behaviors even with post-traumatic brain amnesia. Some patients may be more docile while others are more violent and aggressive. The injury to the brain can make people even more disinhibited than usual.”

“Disinhibited?” Mom asks.

“A lack of restraint with one’s wants and needs, disregarding social norms and becoming more impulsive,” the doctor explains to her, which only makes me question myself even more.

No twin intuition needed now. I can tell by the angered look on Tal’s face that he’s thinking the exact same thing as I am.

Was it my fucked-up brain making me think I wanted to marry Eden, or was that really how I felt? Jesus, what if I only slept with her because she was there and I was horny and uninhibited. I feel like such a jackass. Tal was right. He should’ve told her to leave and not stay with me while I was out of my mind.

Dad quickly takes my mind off of Eden when he asks, “So, what does this mean for Sage’s future in the cage?”

“I wouldn’t sign off on allowing him to take another fight for at least six months,” the doctor says, and I’m instantly relieved to hear that.

“And training?” I ask, because I need a distraction from the bizarre thoughts in my head.

“I think it would be safe for you to engage in individual activities such as running and weightlifting, but I don’t want you taking any shots to the head until we do a few more scans to ensure the swelling in your brain has gone down.”

“Understood,” I agree since I’m not all that eager to get back in the cage just yet.

“I’ll want to see you back in two weeks for another scan and to check in to see how you’re doing. Until then, take care,” Dr. Henley states before he says goodbye and leaves the room.

“So that’s good news,” Mom says, always the worrier yet oddly optimistic. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Guess I’ll go to Havoc,” I say since I want to get back into my normal routine to feel more like myself again and not the needy asshole I was to Eden.

“Just be careful,” she says. “Keep an eye on him,” she tells our dad.

“You know I will,” he says when he kisses her forehead sweetly and they start out of the room. I jump down from the exam table, and then Tal and I follow them out.

“Are you really just going to go back to the gym and act like nothing happened with Eden?” Tal barks at me.

“You heard the doctor. I need time to figure out if it was the post-traumatic amnesia talking or if it was really me,” I tell him.

Shaking his head, he says, “You’re getting a second chance to have everything you could ever want, and you’re going to blow it again.”

He doesn’t say anything else to me before we get to the parking lot and he rides off on his bike.

Dad and I drop Mom off at home so she can get to her painting, and then we’re off to the gym.

“I can drive myself, you know,” I tell my father.

“Better safe than sorry,” he says. “Let’s try to limit your injuries as best we can.”

“What if