The rain fell hard, hammering against windows and creating a constant roar in the night. The streets were soaked as the heavy downpour didn't seem to care about who it affected. It was chaotic, the kind of storm that had no intention of stopping.
Amelia stood in the middle of the street, drenched from head to toe. The rain didn't bother her—it was almost like she didn't even notice it.
"Why me?" Her voice was hoarse, like someone on the verge of breaking.
"Why does it always have to be me?" she cried aloud, her voice rising. The only reply she got was the deafening crack of lightning.
She dropped to her knees, crying out in frustration as tears streamed down her face. The rain masked them, but the anguish in her eyes was unmistakable. Her face was bruised and swollen, as if she'd been through a fight. She shook her head violently, trying to rid herself of the storm within her.
"I can't do this anymore," she whispered, standing up shakily. Her gaze drifted to the distance where headlights approached.
---
Meanwhile, inside a nearby bar, the night was anything but calm.
"Alright, guys, I'm out," said Liam, a tall, athletic man with broad shoulders and an air of confidence. His smooth skin practically glowed under the dim lights, and his sharp jawline turned heads. His piercing green eyes scanned the room, and the disappointment in his friends' faces was evident.
"Come on, Liam, it's still early! Stay for one more drink!" a guy called from the corner, raising his glass.
"Nah, I've got to head out," Liam replied, shaking his head with a smirk.
"Just one more won't hurt," another guy chimed in, grinning.
"I'm already tipsy, and I have to drive. I'm not risking it," Liam said firmly.
The group groaned in unison. A man covered in tattoos, who had been quietly observing from the bar, stood and approached Liam. A cigarette dangled from his lips as he exhaled a cloud of smoke.
"You're Liam Scott, right?" the tattooed man asked, his tone taunting.
Liam coughed, waving the smoke away. "Yeah. And you are?"
"Giovani," the man said, his lips curling into a smirk. "What's the matter? Can't handle a little smoke, golden boy?"
Liam's expression hardened. "Get out of my face," he said coldly.
Giovani stepped closer, his grin widening. Before things could escalate, another man, Elliot, intervened.
"Giovani, what's your problem?" Elliot said, grabbing his arm. "Leave him alone."
"I'm just saying hi," Giovani sneered. He turned back to Liam. "Make sure to take a slut home tonight. You've got the face for it."
Liam froze, his fists clenching. "What did you just say?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"You heard me," Giovani said, his grin defiant. "Or are you too much of a saint for that?"
Without warning, Liam's fist connected with Giovani's jaw, sending him stumbling backward. The room went silent. Giovani's friends rushed to his side as he groaned in pain.
"I'm done here," Liam said to Elliot, brushing past the crowd. "Don't call me for drinks again."
As Liam walked away, Giovani shouted after him, "This isn't over, Scott!"
Liam didn't turn back. "It's over when I say it is," he called, slamming the door behind him.
---
The storm outside was relentless. Liam drove down the slick road, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Giovani's taunts replayed in his head.
"Idiot," Liam muttered. "People like him don't know when to quit."
Suddenly, a figure appeared in his headlights. His heart stopped. He slammed on the brakes, but the car skidded on the wet road. The woman's body hit the windshield with a sickening thud.
"Oh my God!" Liam gasped, jumping out of the car. He knelt beside her, his hands trembling as he checked for a pulse. Blood stained the pavement, mixing with the rain.
"Hang on," Liam whispered, scooping her up and rushing her into his car. He sped toward the nearest hospital, his heart pounding in his chest.
---
At the hospital, Liam burst through the doors, shouting for help. Nurses and doctors rushed to him as he carried the unconscious woman inside.
"What happened?" a nurse asked, her eyes wide.
"She was in the street. I couldn't stop in time," Liam said, his voice shaking. "Please, do something!"
The staff moved quickly, taking the woman from his arms and wheeling her away. Liam stood there, drenched and shaking, watching as they disappeared down the corridor.
A doctor approached him. "We'll do everything we can. Are you a relative?"
"No," Liam replied, running a hand through his wet hair. "Just… take care of her."
Hours passed. Liam paced the waiting room, his nerves on edge. Finally, the doctor returned.
"She's stable," the doctor said, but his tone was serious. "However, the impact caused some memory loss. She's suffering from amnesia."
Liam frowned. "Amnesia? Will it… will it come back?"
"It's hard to say," the doctor admitted. "She needs rest and a stress-free environment. You can see her now, but be gentle. She's still disoriented."
Liam nodded, his stomach twisting with unease. He walked to room 208 and paused outside the door. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside.
The woman was sitting up in bed, her face pale but calm. She looked at him, her eyes filled with confusion.
"Are you okay?" Liam asked softly.
She tilted her head, studying him. A faint smile appeared on her lips. "I'm fine… Andrew," she said weakly.
Liam's heart sank. "Andrew?" he repeated.
Who the hell is Andrew?