CHAPTER 4: STRANGE FLESH

 “Beep... beep... beep.”

What was that noise? It was an insistent, high-pitched whine. I needed to make it stop.

My head throbbed, and my eyelids felt impossibly heavy, like held down by stone or by the sheer finality of death.

Wait, how was I still conscious? 

 The beeping got louder, or maybe I was just more aware of it, and a weird smell prickled my sinuses…. an unpleasant chemical smell. It was the smell of a hospital, the scent of antiseptic erasing the stench of blood and sickness.

I forced my eyes open, and they strained against the blinding, sterile white of the room. I tried to move, but my limbs felt sluggish, like they were submerged in thick honey.

I looked around to see that I was in a hospital, and a large, unfamiliar head was resting on the bed beside my leg, and from the rhythmic rise and fall of the man's back, he was asleep.

Where was I?

Then the memories slammed into me: the massacre, my father’s gambling debts, the sight of Maria dying to protect me, and Kanan’s cold, dark eyes above the gun barrel. The sound of the shot before everything went dark.

How could I have survived point blank gunshots to the chest and head?

Panic immediately seized me. This had to be a trap. Maybe Kanan had kept me alive, not to save me, but to torture me.

The thought sent a visceral tremor through me. The heart monitor started beeping rapidly, the pitch rising sharply as my terror spiked.

The sleeping man launched upright, instantly awake. He was tall and powerfully built with wide shoulders stretching the fabric of his black t-shirt.

He looked like a mob enforcer with the tattoos all over his body and his face…. a man who looked ready for a fight even when startled out of sleep.

He looked around frantically, then his blue eyes fixed on me, wide with shock, then relief.

“Si!” he yelled, leaning over and hugged me to his chest hard.

“Wait!” I managed to gasp, pushing weakly against his wide chest. “Who are you?”

He pulled back, smiling widely with tears in his eyes. “It’s me, Jax. It’s okay. You’re safe.” He gripped my shoulder. “Don't move a muscle, I’m going to get the doctor.”

Then he ran out the door without waiting for an answer.

Si? Why did he call me Si?

Jax. Si. Those names meant absolutely nothing to me. Was this a setup by Kanan? Was this man one of his men, a jailer pretending to be a protector?

The desperation to escape clawed up my throat. I needed to get away from here, figure out what kind of hell I woke up in.

But before I find the strength to move my limbs, the stranger returned with the doctor and nurse.

 “It’s a miracle!” The doctor exclaimed,  rushing to the monitor and stopped the beeping. “We were already scheduling to pull the plug on you this week.”

“A plug?” I whispered, feeling sick.

The doctor gently took my wrist, checking my pulse. “You’ve been in a very deep coma, and we were just about to throw the towel in when your brain activities ceased.”

“H…. how long have I been here?”

“You’ve been with us almost 10 months, ma’am.”

My heart dropped. That was enough time for Kanan to cement his power, and for my family’s graves to be forgotten.

My hand scrambled over my flat abdomen, my eyes holding the doctor’s gaze. 'My baby,' I gasped, my voice thin and frantic. “Where is my baby?”

“What baby, Sienna?” Jax asked, looking completely perplexed and scared. “You were alone when we found you.” He turned to the doctor. “What is wrong with her? Is there any damage to her brain?”

He shone a small flashlight into my eyes. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Elena Cruz Maddox,” I said, the name feeling distant, like a stranger's.

Everyone in the room froze, looking at themselves with concern.

“You’re Sienna.” The doctor said in a low, calm voice. Like he was talking to a child.

“No, I’m Elena, and I was pregnant! He killed my child!” I screamed, tears of rage and pain burning my eyes as I struggled to stand.

“You need to calm down, or we will have to sedate you.” The doctor quickly held my shoulders, holding me down. “I assure you, we didn’t find any record of pregnancy.”

I reached up to remove his hands from my shoulders and froze.  staring at it.

I stared at the hand on his arm. It wasn't my hand.

It was too defined, too strong, and there was an intricate web of black ink that disappeared under the cuff of the hospital gown. My fingernails were chipped, like they had never undergone a manicure, which I never happened.

I held it out in front of me, following the black ink twist from the wrist to the shoulder.

It wasn’t my hand. It was too defined,  finger nails chipped, and covered in tattoos. I extended it in front of me, watching an intricate web of black ink running from my wrist up to my shoulder.

"What is this?" I demanded, the fear turning to pure, disbelieving horror. "I don't have tattoos!"

The doctor leaned in, gestured to the nurse, and she started filling a syringe. “Sienna, you’re very distressed. We need to sedate you.” 

“Don't touch me,” I warned, and before I knew what happened, I’d grabbed his wrist and twisted it.

I stared down at my hand in disbelief, shocked by the speed and lethality of my actions.

 The doctor yelped in pain, and I quickly released him.

How the hell had I done that so easily?

The doctor hesitated, looking at me warily.

I froze when I caught my reflection in his glasses. I didn’t have dark hair.

“Mirror,” I ordered, my voice high and threatening. I sounded borderline insane.

“Sienna, we need to focus on your vitals….” Jax started.

The doctor started coming towards me again, but Jax held him back, cutting him off. 

His voice was low and firm. "I won’t do that if I were you," he warned him, shaking his head. "She can seriously injure you before any of us can intervene. You saw what she just did, Doctor. She's clearly not in a stable state of mind, but she is still Sienna." 

The doctor moved back, eyeing me warily like I was some wild animal.

“I said, give me a mirror!”

He turned to the nurse. “Give her the mirror, please.”

The nurse quickly handed me a small, metal compact.

I lifted it, holding my breath. I stared at the face looking back: high cheekbones, dark, intense eyes, a sharp jawline, and a small scar near the temple.

A face that looked ready to kill.

It was not Elena Cruz Maddox.

Jax smiled, a genuine, relieved, but still slightly wary. His expression looked out of place in this cold room. “Welcome back, Sienna.”

Then the doctor stabbed me with the syringe.

Who the hell is Sienna? I thought as my vision darkened, the sedative was already taking effect. Whose body am I in?