“Well, I’m guessing you let her go? There’s been no sign of her since. I said I found you on the side of the highway, so the island is secure. No cops crawling it.” He sighed. “So what do you remember? Because fuck, Rafe, I don’t have a clue what happened out there.”

I studied this tattooed stranger through squinted eyes, still having no idea who he was or what he was talking about, yet he acted as if he knew me. “Um, I remember seeing Nikki the other night.” Hell, that girl could fuck a guy raw. My dick twitched as I remembered how she’d ridden me.

“How bad did you bump your head? Nikki showed up a few mornings ago. Close call too.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I knew the risks when I signed on for this, but I gotta say it—these past few days have been a bitch.”

“What?” Was he purposefully speaking in riddles? I’d fucked Nikki the night Zach and I had gone head-to-head. I was still on a high from winning that title, knowing my dream of fighting in the UFC was a real possibility now. As for the rest of what this guy at my bedside said, it made about as much sense as his presence.

I glanced around the room and tried to figure out what I was missing. Plain white walls, standard hospital machinery, and that fucking beeping that increased the throbbing in my head. Most notably, someone was absent. “Where’s my dad?” I wasn’t surprised my brother hadn’t shown up. He was always too busy to differentiate his asshole from his mouth, and he’d never approved of my career anyway, but Dad would be the first one here.

The guy narrowed his eyes. “Something’s not right…” He jumped to his feet and hit the call button.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting help, ‘cause you’re not acting like yourself.”

“Dude,” I said, “How would you know? I don’t even know who the hell you are. No offense.”

He collapsed back into the chair, eyes wide, and his panic penetrated my tough veneer. His reaction scared me, and I didn’t know why.

“That is not funny,” he said. “Cut the crap.”

I shook my head. “Seriously, who are you?”

He pushed his hands through his hair. Three times now, he’d done that. Must be a nervous tick. “This isn’t happening.” His gaze bored into me. “Who’s the President?”

“Of the UFC?”

“No! Of the fucking United States.”

I furrowed my brows. “Bush, why?”

“Shit,” he said, then dropped his head into his hands. A few seconds later, he looked up, his face taut with stress. “What year is it?”

“2006. What the hell is going on?”

“You’ve lost eight years of your life, man. That’s what’s going on.”

~RAMPANT: BOOK TWO~

RAMPANT: BOOK TWO

1. Back To Me - Alex