Another crack of thunder blasted overhead, reminding him of what had brought her to his door.
Finally, he figured she’d sated her appetite enough to risk speaking. “You been out there long?”
Kara paused. “I guess so.” She ran her spoon around the edge of the bowl. “I’ve been trying to remember how I got here.”
“That’s a good start,” Liam prompted. “And?”
“I remember going along the road, walking.” She looked up at him. “What’s the name of this place?”
“Everett’s Ridge. We’re about three hours’ drive from Denver, up in the mountains.” He studied her face, looking for any signs of recognition. “You don’t have any car keys—do you remember driving in?”
She pursed her lips, frowning. “No. I don’t recall being in a car.”
“There’s two Greyhound buses a day from the city, one early in the morning and one in the evening.”
“Guess I came in on one of those, then.” She shrugged as she drained the last of the soup. “I feel like I’ve been traveling forever.”
“Where’s your luggage?”
Kara frowned.
“Where’s your luggage?” Liam said for a second time. “A purse, a backpack? I’ve heard of traveling light, but no phone? Nothing?”
“I don’t have any of that. I think.” She leaned back in the chair. “No wallet, either. Maybe I hitchhiked my way into town, got mugged along the way—they took everything, left me alone.” She shook her head. “Can’t think of a lot of alternatives.”
The thought of a group of thugs manhandling Kara had him stifling a growl, banishing the image from his mind’s eye.
No, that wasn’t likely to have happened—no one touched Kara unless she wanted them to. He’d seen what she did to anyone getting up in her personal space without permission.
He glanced at the windows, the rain pelting against the glass. There wasn’t a lot of traffic coming into Everett’s Ridge, not at this time of year. A random group of people running around and mugging visitors would be unusual, to say the least—and the police chief wouldn’t stand for it.
He still had more questions than answers.
“Do you remember your last name?” Liam asked.
Inside he flinched. They hadn’t gotten that far last time.
“Kara.” Her forehead furrowed. “I’m sorry, that’s all.”
“Did you take any pills? Do you recall being at a bar, leaving your drink alone for a second? Someone offering you a cigarette, a candy?” He got up and collected the plates as she settled on the couch. “Do you remember anything else before arriving at my front door?”
The urge to sit her in a chair and do a professional interrogation was overwhelming, her confused replies not enough to quiet the voice screaming at the back of his mind.
Danger.
But the honesty in her voice held him back—that, and the time they’d shared together. If she’d been sent to kill him, she was doing a good job of hiding her emotions.
He wasn’t sure if anyone could be that good.
She rubbed the back of her neck, eyebrows drawing together in a frown. “No. It’s all a blur.”
There was another possibility—one easily checked out. He’d done a quick once-over when he’d put her in the bathtub but could have missed something in his rush to secure the apartment and guard against intruders. Now he could take his time. If she consented.
“Hmm.” He crossed over to her, lifting his hands. “May I?”
Kara jerked back, eyes wide.
Liam showed his palms in what he hoped she’d see as a calming gesture. “Just want to check your head for any bumps or bruises. You might have a concussion. Are you sore anywhere? Do you have a headache?”
Her forehead furrowed. “No.”
“Just relax. If I hit a sore spot, sing out.” He moved in. “Did you notice any problem when you washed your hair? Clotted spots, blood in the water?”
“No, and no.” The impatience in her voice helped to settle his nerves. She might be confused, but she was still very aware of her surroundings and in full control of her faculties.
Liam cupped her face in his hands, staring into the deep blue eyes. His heart skipped a beat as he studied her soft, open gaze. “Pupils clear, matching. That’s good.” He ran his fingers around to the back of her head, gently probing. “No bumps or open wounds—no apparent signs of injury.”
“I could have told you that,” she whispered.
His hands tangled in the soft blonde hair, and he caught a whiff of the generic shampoo he used—but somehow, it’d turned into a flowery, almost hypnotic scent on her skin.
Liam was tempted to grip the back of her neck and take her mouth, devour her as he had over a year ago. It was a concentrated effort to step back.
“How does the rest of you feel? Any aches and pains, any…” His mouth went dry as he searched for the words. “Maybe you shouldn’t have showered.”
There were different types of trauma than getting smacked in the head.
Her eyes widened as she looked at him, making the mental jump. “No. No,” she said again, the steel in her voice coming through. “I’d know something like that. I’m fine.”
“Right then. Tomorrow, after breakfast, we’ll go see Marie.”
“Tomorrow morning?” Her gaze darted around the apartment, reminding him of a wild bird trapped in a cage.
He pointed at the front door. “Have to wait until the storm stops and the sun comes up.”
“Who’s Marie?” Kara drew back, out of his grasp.
“The police chief. She’ll run your fingerprints, see if you’re in the system. That way we can find out who you are and where you came from.” He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to say anything more.
He gave in to his curiosity, their shared need for information. “But I can tell you something right now.” He weighed the data, deciding how much to say. “We met a year ago at a hotel bar, out near Las Vegas. Do you remember it?”
“We…” She narrowed her gaze. “Why didn’t you say something before?”
He resisted the urge to step back, out of range. “Just wanted to see how much you recalled without being prompted.”
She pressed her lips into a tight line. Her fingers uncurled, the tension easing out of her shoulders as he watched. “Oh.”
“Let’s kick it back a bit.” He crossed his arms. “Try to remember where you were born?”
Her stare moved past him, up to the ceiling. “I came from…” Kara frowned. “I don’t remember.” There was no fear in her voice, just a trace of anger underlying the concern. “Not even where I was born? What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing as far as I can see. We’ll visit Marie tomorrow—she’ll help us figure it out,” Liam said softly. “But for tonight, you’re staying here.” He pointed down the hall. “My bedroom’s down there. I’ll take the couch.”
“But…” Her eyes darted to the window by the front door, the icy rain pummeling the glass. He saw her squint, mentally weighing her options.
He shook his head. “No buts about it. You’re in no condition to go anywhere else tonight.” Liam extended a hand again. “Work with me here—I’m only trying to help.”
“I appreciate it.” She grasped it and got to her feet. “I’m just…” She scrubbed her eyes. “I’m just out of sorts.”
“Totally understandable, given the situation. Take it easy, try to get some sleep if you can. If you feel sick or get a bad headache, let me know. The rest can wait until morning when we’re both more awake and aware.” He led her down to the bedroom, fighting back the urge to interrogate her further.
It wasn’t until he’d settled her down and closed the door that the major question returned, banging around the inside of his mind like a steel-drum band gone haywire.
The question wasn’t who she was, although that was a mystery he’d gladly crack.
How had she found him? A year and hundreds of miles away, after he’d worked
hard to cover his tracks…
How?
He felt Jack begin to slip away, the persona drying up and falling off to leave Liam behind.
Liam Wolfson. A man he’d thought long dead.
Liam retreated to the living room and checked the front door lock one last time. He settled in the chair, pistol in his lap and facing the entrance.
Chapter Two
Kara woke up to the smell of bacon, and her stomach let out a demanding rumble.
She threw off the blankets, shivering as the cool air rushed over her naked body. The T-shirt and shorts lay at the end of the bed—she hadn’t been comfortable wearing them while she slept, shucking the clothing not long after lying down.
Another growl had her sitting up, pressing one hand to her belly in an attempt to quiet it. Sunlight streamed in through a crack in the blanket covering the lone window.
Her mind reran the events of the last few hours, replaying them at top speed.
Stumbling through the rain. The apartment door.
Liam.
“Liam.” The shout came out before she realized it. Kara slapped her hands over her mouth, mortified at her lack of control.
The door flew open, slamming against the back wall.
He ran in, holding a fork in one hand and a pistol in the other. Both weapons swiveled as he scanned the room, searching for any intruder. There was a coldness in his brown eyes, the way he held himself. Muscles tensed under his black T-shirt, his reaction bringing a thought up to the surface.
An animal. A predator.
A killer.
The thought didn’t frighten her. If she’d spent some time with him—and she was sure of that—he hadn’t scared her away before. There was no reason to leave now.
And where would you go? her inner voice asked. You came here for a reason, came to find him—right to his doorstep. You’ll figure it out in time.
She watched Liam clear the room with a calm, collected efficiency. Kara didn’t know what he did for a living, but it wasn’t sitting behind a desk, flipping papers.
A second later, satisfied there was no danger, he looked at her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She rubbed her eyes.
“You called my name.” His tone was accusatory.
“I know. I’m sorry.” Her cheeks burned.
He relaxed and stood up straight, waving the fork in the air. “Don’t get me wrong—I’ve got nothing against women yelling my name.” Liam chuckled as he tucked the pistol in the small of his back. “Usually I’m the reason.”
Kara’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment at causing such a scene.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I woke up and all I could think of was your name.”
“Don’t apologize. If it helps bring your memory back, I’ll come racing into a hundred bedrooms.” The fork pointed to the small stack of clothing in the corner. “Your clothing’s all there. Shoes are in the bathtub. Jacket’s by the front door. No casualties.”
He eyed her, dragging his gaze over her naked body. He raised an eyebrow in approval.
“You haven’t changed.” The mixture of laughter and desire in his words verified they had been a couple. “But it’s a lot colder here than in Vegas. Might want to keep that in mind for the future.”
She reached down and drew the sheet up with one hand, staring right back at him.
“Don’t be too long—breakfast’ll get cold.” Liam smiled and walked out of the room.
She waited until the door closed again before dropping the sheet.
“Liam,” Kara said quietly.
She’d been sent to find him. She knew that much; she felt it in her bones.
But after that…
There was too much fog in her mind, too many scattered thoughts spinning around. One thing was certain, the two of them had an intimate history—the way he’d looked at her proved that. Those memory flashes were true.
Frustration bubbled up inside her. How could she not remember a man like that? How…
Kara sighed and pressed her palms to her eyes. Her stomach growled again, not satisfied with the memory of last night’s meal. She climbed out of bed and reached for the clothing.
Answers would have to wait until after breakfast.
First, she had to deal with the man she’d forced herself on.
Liam finished setting out breakfast. Bacon and scrambled eggs were a safe choice.
He wasn’t sure there was much else that could be.
Seeing her naked, even for only a few seconds, had rekindled the flame of desire he’d worked so hard to suppress since last night. His charge down the hallway had been real, his fear she was under attack overriding everything else.
The spark in her eyes when he’d burst in…a mixture of rage, embarrassment, and confusion. She really didn’t remember much about their time together.
There’d been no movement outside his front door all night, the parking lot remaining empty other than the few cars he identified as belonging to the other residents.
If someone had followed her to the apartment building and thrown her at him as a distraction, they were taking way too long to follow up with a direct attack.
He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.
Kara came out of his bedroom, fully dressed. She’d pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, flipped over one shoulder.
“Thank you,” she said.
“No problem. Come and eat.”
They ate in silence, Kara’s appetite still as hearty as it had been earlier.
“Before we head out”—Liam stood up—“I’m known as Jack Hammerson here. If you don’t mind, please call me Jack when we go to Marie.”
“Why?”
“Liam’s my middle name. I don’t use it here. Easier not to confuse anyone.” The lie flowed freely, and he hated himself for it. But he couldn’t risk the truth.
“Are you sure we need to go?”
“Yes. Maybe someone found your purse, or other identification, and turned it in. Maybe you’re listed as missing from wherever you started. She’ll have access to a lot more resources than we’ll get here in my apartment.”
She continued to eat, but he could see the tension in her shoulders signaling her inner turmoil.
“Kara. We need to find out who you are.” He lowered his voice, trying to sound as supportive as he could. “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’s worried about you, looking for you. This can’t be solved by staying in all day, curled up on my couch.”
“I guess so.” Kara finished eating and got up from the table. “Let me get my jacket, and we’ll go.”
Liam tried to tamp down the sense of foreboding setting the hairs on the back of his neck on end.
She was trouble.
Kara looked around as Liam locked the front door. “The neon sign over there says this is a hotel.”
“Technically it still is. It was modified years ago into apartments. Landlord wanted more financial security, so he started long-term rentals. He keeps a few empty units for travelers who need a room during the tourist season.” Liam turned and gestured at the parking lot in front of them.
Every bone in his body said to dump her at the first opportunity and run, climb into his truck and get out of town as fast as he could. Her presence could only mean one thing—trouble, for him and those around him. He’d grown fond of this town and the people here. They didn’t deserve what her appearance might mean.
But he wouldn’t leave her alone.
Because he had so much red in his register he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to rub it all out, take it into the black.
Leaving an amnesiac woman behind to an unknown fate wasn’t an option.
The pistol dug into the small of his back, the added weight pressing down on him, body and soul. It was comfortable, old habits coming back with ease. He wasn’t too happy about that—he would have preferred to leave it in the shoebox under his bed. The gun was illegal, and the last thing he needed was to have any issues with la
w enforcement—he got on well enough with Marie. But something told him his different worlds were about to collide, and he didn’t need to be caught unarmed.
He led her past his black pickup truck and through the lot, zigging and zagging around the potholes filled with water on their way to the street.
“It’s a short walk to the station,” he said by way of explanation. “Rather save the gas if I can.”
She nodded, leaning into him as a cold wind swept across them. “Strange weather. Lots of dark clouds, but no rain.”
“All noise and no business.” Liam let out a low laugh. “I don’t mind the thunder, but lightning, that bothers me.”
“Me, too.”
As they made their way up onto the sidewalk, she sensed the tension in the air, the apprehension coming off him in waves. He didn’t want her there but wasn’t about to walk away from her, their previous liaison obliging him to help her out. But there was something else, a sense of…danger? Anticipation? It wasn’t fear, she knew that.
Liam wasn’t afraid of anything.
Kara shook her head, earning a curious look from Liam as they continued on toward the small police station, a lit blue neon sign announcing its presence.
She didn’t know what that thought meant or where it came from. It was like all the rest of her thoughts, drifting through a fog until it congealed into something coherent.
“Come on.” He offered his hand as he started up the steps. Kara grasped it, feeling the strength in the callused, well-worn fingers.
He took hold of one of the thick brass handles and opened the door for her, waving her on.
The small building was laid out simply, with a main counter greeting visitors at the entrance, providing a barrier to the rest of the floor. A holding cell lay down one hall and a handful of offices down another, with four open desks in sight, all covered with stacks of paperwork in varying heights. A nearby bulletin board held various notices—some wanted posters from the FBI, but mostly flyers advertising safety programs with bright cartoon images and cheery slogans.
A small buzzer went off, announcing their presence.
Warrior Nights Page 2