“Grace,” John, the bartender, said, as I walked through the swinging door of the Rodeo Roadhouse. It was the closest, and only, place to get a decent burger near the clubhouse, and I needed a break from the cabin. “Hi, John!” “Where’s Ryder today?” “He had some business to attend to with the club today in Portland. Just me today.” I nodded to Susie, his waitress, when she walked out of the kitchen. Susie and John had become familiar faces after Ryder had brought me here the fi...rst time. I had been trying so hard to remember something, anything, about where I had come from, who I was, and Ryder had brought me here for our first public outing after I woke up from my very long slumber. The things I had finally remembered still haunted me, and I’d be lying if I said I was completely glad I remembered. Sometimes there are things in the past you just wish you could wash away.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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