Lox's POV...

"We are all the pieces of what we remember. We hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss"
~ Cassandra Clare

Losing my memory has robbed me of myself.

Without knowing my past, I'll never truly know who I am or how I became to be the person I am now. I'll never understand the people I currently have in my life, how we came to be, why we remain connected. Why they hurt for me and why they protect me. Who am I to them?

My past sounds unbearable yet I somehow survived it and I have people that love and care about me. They have their memories of me, but I feel lost without my memories of them. Maybe they do understand why I'm doing this and they're just worried for me. I'm worried for me too now that I've seen what my past has done to the people around me. Either way, I still need to know.

Cohen assists me down his front steps and into the car. I'm not sure how I'm feeling. Nervous yes. Mostly sad and a little angry. So much more new information, I'm having a hard time processing all that happened to Liam and I, and I'm about to learn a whole lot more walking into my own house.

"Your m...mom's a...afraid to touch m...me." It's more a statement.

"We were all afraid to touch you, even a nudge , or friendly tap. You avoided contact like the plague. You'd have panic attacks and automatically assume anyone around you would hurt you. I hated seeing you go through that. What Jack did to you really messed with you. He'd hit you out of nowhere and for no reason, and I'm so sorry I didn't do anything about it sooner. You never let us help you. I didn't know how or what to do. I just took you and Liam to my house and you slept here most nights."

Shit. I was messed up back then. I still am now but at least I don't panic when people touch me. I may not remember what happened to me, but somewhere inside me, I'll always remember the feeling of it. Those feelings come out when I least expect them and with unknown reasons...all connected to my past. What if I walk into my home and remember everything Jack did? I don't need to add panic attacks to my list of health issues.

"You're better now Lox. What ever memories return when we go into that house, know that he's gone for good and you're safe from him."

"Th...thanks. I'll try t...to th...think about that."

"You know, it was the happiest day of my life when you decided to get closer to Greya. I mean we all hung out all the time but you always kept her at arms length and barely talked to her. I understand why you did it, but I was so happy you gave yourself a chance and let her into your life. She showed you what love could feel like. You needed her love and acceptance."

I feel bad that I practically ignored her for all those years. To think I made her happy when I'd briefly joke around with her. I feel like an idiot. She suffered so much loss at such a young age and she carried on with life the best she could. Meanwhile , I hadn't a clue. I must've thought I was protecting her from my abusive life. I think maybe I was only protecting myself.

I have glimpses of her with me. Bits and pieces that flood my mind. She always knew what I needed and when I needed it.

"Greya's p...protective of m...me." I admit to myself out loud.

"To really know Greya means you're lucky enough to get her whole heart. She's protective of everyone she loves, especially you. She's also scared to death of losing the people she's given her heart to. When we thought you'd died, I thought she did too."

"I w...wish none of y...you had to g...go through th...that."

"We all wish things happened differently. There's nothing we can do about it now except move forward knowing you're back in our lives and we all have each other."

Before I can change my mind, we arrive at my old house. I don't recognize the outside. At this point I shouldn't wish to recognize any of it. We've all suffered enough. Maybe that's what everyone's been trying to tell me.

"You ready?"

"N...no."

"We can go inside and walk around, if it's too much we can leave. You just say the word."

Once we enter the house, Cohen hangs back and observes me as I hobble around the first floor.

Everything smells and looks clean. No evidence of a shooting.

Cohen follows me into the massive living room. There are two couches and a recliner against the wall.

"I r...remember having a p...party or s...something. This r...room. We played a g...game and I s...sat in that ch...chair. I w...was upset w...with Greya. W...why?"

He chuckles at the memory.

"We did have a party. Greya was dared to go skinny dipping with you and you looked like you wanted to kill the person who dared her and then you stood up and went upstairs. If you ask me, I think you were protective of Greya too."

I'm sure I was. Who wouldn't be.

"I d...don't think I'll b...be able t...to make it up s...stairs," I look down at my leg. No way my body can handle a whole flight.

"Get on my back," he stands in front of me and crotches down.

He holds my crutch while I hold onto him. I laugh thinking of Greya again.

"Greya's h...had to p...piggy back me once or twice."

"Shit! Really?" He laughs with me.

"I th...thought I'd crush h...her or she'd d...drop me but she c...carried me on her b...back like it w...was nothing."

"Don't let her petite frame fool you, that girl is one tough chick."

"She s...sure is."

We get to the top of the stairs and as soon as I slide off his back, my mind tricks me when I lose my balance and fall down the stairs. Cohen's figure standing at the top, his face a blur.

"Whoa, are you okay?" Cohen's gripping both my upper arms while I stand in front of him. I didn't really fall. What the heck was that?

"I th...thought I tumbled d...down the s...stairs just n...now while y...you were watching m...me, but it wasn't y...you."

"Okay, maybe this isn't a good idea, maybe we can come back tomorrow after you've rested?"

"N...no it was a f...flashback. I'm f...fine I want t...to get th...this over with."

"You did trip down the stairs and sprained your ankle. You spent a few days on crutches and missed a soccer game."

I shrug because I don't remember all of that.

He keeps his hand on my weak arm while we enter what looks like a music room. A beautiful black piano sits in the middle. Shelves of music books take up an entire wall.

I walk over to the piano and lift the cover. My fingers glide across the smooth white keys. I notice a picture of my mom playing the piano with a small boy and flashbacks of my mother come crashing through. I'm the little boy in the photo and my mother taught me how to play the piano. We were happy.

Another memory of Greya sitting on the bench next to me while I played for her.

"I know you can play the piano like Beethoven, but you never wanted to play in front of us." He shrugs.

I've only played for Greya. I feel normal... like playing is something extraordinary that I'm able to do. Playing for her makes her happy and I'm happy knowing I can make her feel that way.

We both walk into my bedroom next. Nothing about it jogs a memory at first. I rummage through my drawers and closet and find a box filled with pictures. Pictures of me playing soccer, my teammates, Cohen and Declan. Pictures of my mom with Liam and I when we were small. I pause holding a family picture of the four of us. His face I hardly recognize, which is odd considering he's most of the reason my life is so screwed up. The feelings are there though. Fear and hate course through my body. My bad leg is shaking, my hand is shaking while I stare at the picture.

" This i...is J...jack?"

Cohen cautiously nods. He's probably waiting for me to freak out and have a panic attack when all the memories of Jack wash over me like a tidal wave. I was expecting that too, but nothing hits me until I sit back onto my bed and a burning pain in my lower abdomen ceases me.

I wince in pain and lift my shirt, brushing my fingers over the scar I have and squeeze my eyes shut.

Touching it brings back a memory of Jack stabbing me with a  hot fire poker.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and I flinch so hard, I almost fall off the bed.

I frantically look around the room and only see Cohen. His mouth is moving but I don't hear him at first.

His hands are off of me and he backs away. "Lox, Lox, what happened? I finally hear him and don't respond.

I touch the scar again, realizing it's all healed and isn't painful at all. I don't like this, I shouldn't be here.

"Did you just have a flashback of him?" Cohen hesitantly asks me.

I nod and focus on my breathing.

"Remember what I said. He's not here, he never will be again."

"I w...want to l...leave."

I'm not going to tell Cohen I had many flashbacks at once. All as disturbing as everyone's been telling me. Everyone's right, I don't need to remember that part of my life. All that matters is that I survived everything that monster did to me.

If it's worth feeling bad about, it's worth forgetting.

Jack is a ghost from my past and the things he did will always haunt me, but that's all he is. A ghost of a monster I used to know. He's no longer real and I can't let the past attack the present. Accepting my past is one thing, but allowing it to control me is another.

"I'm s...sorry I f...flinched like th...that."

I really am sorry. I don't want that fear to effect me like that. Sounds like everyone I know is used to that behavior from me, but I'm not. I don't want to be that person.

"No need to apologize Lox. I worried it would happen if you remembered something. Just tell me what you need from me, so I can help you."

"I n...need some sl...sleep." Which isn't a lie. My brain's in overdrive and I'm likely to have a seizure if I don't get out of this house.

"Okay. Are you good to get on my back again?" He's asking because of the way I acted when he put his hand in my shoulder.

"Y...yes. Th...thank you for d...doing this." Still is weird having my friend carry me down the stairs.

I take the box of pictures with me. Maybe Liam and I can go through them another time. I should've went into Liam's room to see if he'd want anything but Cohens having a hard time gripping onto me while I'm having muscle spasms.

As we drive back to his house I think about the few good things I was able to remember. I brief moment with my mom when I was young. I remember Liam or Alec rather playing video games in his room. One time with Greya at the piano, and a glimpse of the party I once had. No other details ring a bell. Only short visions. I still haven't gotten my memory back.

"I know you wanted a different outcome, but I'm happy you can recall some of the good times instead of only the bad. I'm sorry if you didn't find what you were looking for."

I shrug. Maybe I did find it. Images of Cohen's mom offering her home to me, of Liam and I hanging out, my mom teaching me to read and play music. People did care about me. I didn't exactly find what I intended to. Maybe I had high expectations of fully recovering my memory.

There's so much more I don't know. What I'm sure of without having full memory is that the Collins always treated me like I was part of their family. I know Cohen's always had my back. And I know that I'm missing Greya right now and looking forward to going back tomorrow.