Buried Memories

by Carol J. Post

  Louie’s eyes dipped to the barrel of the gun, which seemed to have developed a mind of its own. It waved up and down and side to side.

  The edges of his mouth curled up in a wicked grin. “See? You can’t do it. Give me the gun, Nicki, and everything will be all right. I won’t hurt you.”

  It was the same promise he’d made that night after killing her mother. Unlock the door and everything would be all right. She didn’t believe it then, and she didn’t believe it now.

  She gripped the gun more tightly.

  “One more step, and I’ll shoot.” The strength in her tone surprised her.

  Louie’s brows shot up, and for several moments he stood motionless. Then he laughed, an evil, menacing sound. “No, you won’t.”

  She rested her finger on the trigger, poised and waiting. Louie had said she wasn’t a killer. She wasn’t. But she wasn’t a victim, either. Not anymore.

  Louie took a step. A deafening pow reverberated through the air, and the gun kicked, throwing her arms upward. A scream shot up her throat, and her hands opened. The weapon fell into the water with a splash.

  Louie stood about ten feet in front of her, mouth agape, hands clutching his stomach. Blood seeped between his fingers. He dropped to his knees, then fell forward, face in the water.

  Nicki gasped and took a step toward him. If she didn’t do something, he was going to drown.

  And the world would be a better place.

  No, she couldn’t do it. Pulling the trigger in self-defense was one thing. Letting him drown when she was standing ten feet away was another. She closed the distance between them.

  Movement in her peripheral vision drew her attention. Four figures were running toward the shoreline—two officers in uniform and Hunter and Amber in plain clothes.

  Another siren split the silence, increased in volume, then stopped. When she reached Louie, she grasped his shoulders and lifted his face out of the water. The next moment, his hand came up and clamped around her throat. Panic shot through her, and she struggled to take in a breath through her constricted windpipe. When she tried to pry his fingers from her neck, he squeezed harder. Her head pounded and her ears began to ring. Blackness encroached from all sides.

  Suddenly Louie’s hand relaxed, and he fell forward. Her knees buckled as Hunter reached her.

  He looped an arm around her waist. “Whoa, steady. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Her voice was little more than a croak. “Wade needs help. He’s been shot.”

  “They’re already attending to him.”

  She looked toward the shore, where two paramedics knelt on either side of him. She breathed a sigh of relief. Lord, please let him be all right.

  “And Tyler’s hurt.”

  As if in response, a moan came from the dock. She waded over and climbed onto the wooden structure. Tyler still lay on his back with his eyes closed. His lower lip was swollen and split open, and caked blood had dried in several places on his face.

  She put a hand on his chest. “Tyler?”

  He moaned again, and one eye fluttered open. The other was too badly swollen.

  “It’s over. Louie is—” What, injured? Dead? Someone had dragged him from the water and laid him on the beach. Two more paramedics had arrived and were working on him.

  Conflicting emotions tumbled through her. If Louie survived, she’d live with the knowledge that someone out there wanted her dead. If he died, it would be at her hand. Neither was a good option.

  Tyler’s good eye closed. “Louie is what?”

  On the shore, one of the paramedics shook his head and they both rose. In that moment, all she felt was relief.

  She took Tyler’s hand and squeezed it. “He’ll never be a threat to anyone again.”

  THIRTEEN

  Tyler clawed his way to consciousness, the sounds of explosions still ringing in his ears. It was only a nightmare. He was no longer in Afghanistan. But where was he?

  Near his head, something emitted rhythmic beeps. Like medical equipment in a hospital. That was it. He’d been injured and they’d flown him to Landstuhl, Germany.

  There was more, but remembering required too much effort. He tried to open his eyes. They refused to cooperate. He was drifting, floating.

  The telltale whistle of a mortar round blazed a path through his mind, jarring him back to semiconsciousness.

  Burns. He’d been burned. His right shoulder and the upper part of his back. He remembered now. There would be weeks of skin grafts. The doctor had already warned him.

  The doctor at Brooke Army Medical Center. He wasn’t in Germany. He was back stateside, Fort Sam Houston, Texas.

  The grafts were going to be painful. Burns were always painful. He’d deal with it.

  But the pain he’d prepared himself for wasn’t there. At least, it wasn’t in his shoulder and back. Instead, he had the granddaddy of all headaches. And he felt as if he’d tried to dive face-first through a slab of concrete. What was going on?

  He tried again to open his eyes. This time he was successful. With one eye, anyway. The other was glued shut. His mouth didn’t feel right, either. His jaw was stiff, his lips dry. When he ran his tongue over them, the lower one seemed huge.

  He rolled his head to the side. Someone sat in the corner, curled up in the chair, sleeping. A woman. Her head rested on the arm of the chair, and her knees were drawn up to her chest. Bright auburn hair had fallen over her face, hiding most of it from view.

  Nicki.

  The fogginess cleared in an instant, and memories of the past days’ events flooded his mind. He reached for the control to raise the top part of his bed. The gentle hum joined the other sounds of the room.

  Nicki sat up, sweeping her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. Her eyes widened. They held relief tinged with concern. A slow smile climbed up her cheeks.

  “You’re awake.” She swung both feet to the floor and stood to approach him. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been used as a punching bag.”

  “I think you have.” The smile faded and she took his hand. “You saved my life. If you hadn’t tackled Louie when you did, he’d have shot me.”

  “When I saw him take aim, I almost had a heart attack. All I could think about was that I was going to lose you.” And for the first time in twelve years, he’d prayed. No bargains or promises this time. Just heartfelt pleas for protection for Nicki and strength and success for himself. And God had answered.

  He pressed his free hand to the side of his head and winced. “How’s Wade?”

  “The bullet lodged in his right lung. He was in surgery a couple of hours, but he’s going to be all right.”

  She lowered her head. “I feel terrible. We should never have involved him. All I wanted to do was borrow his phone. Instead, I ended up getting him shot.”

  “It wasn’t your fault. All the blame is with Louie.” He shifted position and winced again. His head and face weren’t the only places that hurt. He was probably going to be finding muscles he didn’t know he had for the next three weeks.

  “Speaking of Louie, what happened to him?”

  “Dead.”

  He raised his brows. “How did that happen? The last thing I remember is having my head slammed into the dock and everything going black. I think there might have been another punch in there, too.”

  “There was.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “After you were knocked out, I grabbed the gun. I warned him, but he came after me anyway.”

  Pride swelled inside him, but he didn’t congratulate her. Too often, victory didn’t feel so good. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded a little too quickly.

  “Having killed someone isn’t an easy thing to live with. Trust me, I know.” It was likely
to haunt her for years to come. “If you ever need to talk about it, you know where to find me.”

  “Thanks.”

  He closed his eyes. “My head feels like it’s stuffed full of cotton. I think my brain is firing on only two cylinders.”

  “You have a concussion and lots of bruises, but fortunately, nothing’s broken.”

  “You couldn’t prove it by me.” He shifted to get more comfortable, then gave up. “It looks like Andy might be finishing the renovations on his own. We were only a few days from having it complete.”

  She nodded. Sadness seemed to emanate from her. “What are your plans once you’ve mended?”

  He searched her face. Did she want him to stay? He couldn’t tell. Her eyes were shielded, fixed on their joined hands.

  No, she’d already answered all his silent questions at the park. Whatever she felt for him, and he was sure it had deepened over the past few weeks, she wasn’t willing to sacrifice their friendship to explore it.

  And if that was all she wanted, that was what he’d take. But it would have to be long-distance. Being with her every day, hearing her sparkling laughter as she played with Callie, seeing her crooked half smile when she teased him, all her little quirks—it would be pure torture. And he’d had enough of that in his life.

  “I guess I’ll be heading out again.” He pivoted his head to stare at the darkened TV screen on the opposite wall. Please say you want me to stay.

  But she was silent, except for the small sigh that escaped her mouth. Was it disappointment?

  No, it was likely relief. She probably didn’t want to deal with his problems. And he couldn’t blame her. The nightmares and flashbacks, never knowing when he might get violent or lose it in public—no one deserved to be saddled with all that.

  She gave him a slow nod, the movement drawing his gaze back to her face.

  “Where will you go?”

  “I’m thinking about Montana this time.” At least, as of two seconds ago. Until that moment, he’d avoided all thoughts of leaving her. He gave her a half-hearted smile. “Big Sky Country.”

  “Montana is awfully cold.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll leave again before the snow sets in.”

  Before answering, she swallowed hard. “This time we need to do a better job of staying in touch.”

  “I agree. I’m not sure what happened last time.”

  One side of her mouth lifted. “I think you dropped the ball.”

  “I think it was you.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t either of us. That final letter might be trapped in some crevice in the back corner of the Atlanta post office, covered in dust.”

  He smiled, then let it fade. “No excuses this time.”

  She nodded. “Not with texting.”

  “And Facebook. We need to be friends.” He squeezed her hand. “I don’t want to lose you again, Nicki.”

  She nodded again, but this time the motion was jerky. “I’m going to let you get some rest.” She pulled her hand from his grasp. “I promised I’d try to come in to work this afternoon.”

  He watched her walk from the room, then lay his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes.

  Leaving was the right thing to do. It just wasn’t easy. But often the right thing wasn’t.

  Footsteps sounded outside his door, and he opened his eyes in time to see Andy walk into the room.

  “It’s good to see you awake. How do you feel?”

  Tyler stifled a moan. “Ask me in a few days.”

  “Pretty bad, huh? You don’t look so hot, either.”

  He started to lift a brow, then stopped. Even that small motion hurt.

  Andy moved the chair closer to the hospital bed and sank into it. “I met Nicki getting off the elevator. What did you say to her?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t give me that. She was crying. What did you do?”

  Annoyance surged through him. He didn’t need his big brother meddling in his affairs.

  “I told her we were almost done with the renovations, and once I got out of here I’d be leaving.” He glared at Andy. “Nothing that’s any concern of yours.”

  Andy shook his head. “When are you going to stop running? You’ve found a good woman who’s crazy about you, and you’re ready to throw it all away. For what?”

  “I’m not throwing anything away. We’re friends. That’s all. And wherever I go, we’ll still be friends.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  “Thanks, bro. I love you, too.”

  Andy heaved a sigh. “Maybe you and Nicki are just friends. But you’re not satisfied with that. I recognized it almost from your first day here.”

  “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

  “What about what Nicki wants? Aren’t her wishes important enough for you to get your act together and settle down?”

  Tyler crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, if you came here to beat me up, you can go back home.”

  “Okay, I’ll drop it for now. But this isn’t over.”

  Yeah, it was over, whether Andy wanted it to be or not. Before Tyler could say as much, a nurse entered the room.

  “I see you decided to join the land of the living. How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve been run over by a truck.”

  She checked his vitals, made a few notes on the clipboard she carried, then added something to his IV.

  “There. That should have you feeling better soon.”

  He closed his eyes and let the medicine do its work. Already the edge of his pain seemed a little duller.

  He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Nicki had so much to overcome—the memories of her mother’s murder, the fact that her own sister tried to kill her, the terror of being pursued by Louie, his death at her hands. Whatever she needed, he’d always be there for her. As a friend. Asking to be anything more wouldn’t be fair to Nicki.

  She’d had her share of users and losers. But someday, someone would come along who would value her uniqueness. Who would be awed by her beauty, both inside and out. Who would appreciate her toughness but be sensitive to her vulnerability.

  Who would love her the way he did.

  The pain that pierced his heart almost took his breath away. He clenched one fist and put it over his chest.

  The monitor beeped and the IV dripped fluids into his veins, but the pain refused to abate.

  Unfortunately, this was the type for which the doctors had no cure.

  * * *

  Nicki jammed the spade into the dirt and grasped a weed with her left hand. After a couple of gentle tugs, the roots slid free of the ground holding them, and she tossed the plant onto the growing pile next to her.

  They were Joan and Andy’s weeds, not hers. Her own flower beds were in pretty bad shape, between neglect and too much foot traffic over recent weeks.

  She cast a glance in that direction. The carport side of her house was still a burned-out shell, but renovations would be starting soon. She’d settled on a contractor, and the insurance company had approved his quote. Once all the work was done, she’d tackle beautifying the yard.

  But today, she was focused on repaying Joan and Andy for some of their kindness. And avoiding Tyler.

  He was inside packing, getting ready to head for parts unknown. She had no choice in letting him go, but she didn’t have to watch him make the preparations.

  She focused her attention on the task in front of her and attacked the weeds with renewed vigor. The doctor had discharged Tyler yesterday. She’d visited him several times over the past few days. There’d been no talk of future plans for either of them. He’d kept his conversation casual and so had she. But an undercurrent of tension had run between them.

  What happened to
the easy camaraderie they’d shared all those years ago? It almost felt as if they were strangers. Or former friends with too many hurts between them to move past.

  At some point over the prior weeks, their friendship had morphed into something else. And now she was kicking herself. She’d done it again. Four months out of one failed relationship and she was running headlong toward another dead end. But unlike several of her exes, Tyler wasn’t a user or a loser. He was just afraid to commit. Of course, she’d had more than her fair share of those, too.

  She moved over a couple of feet, then sat back on her heels, ready to tackle the next section. Letting herself feel anything deeper for Tyler than friendship had been stupid. But what she felt wasn’t one-sided. The kiss at Fanning Springs had proved it.

  And she’d stopped it. She’d been too afraid to explore this new spark between them, scared that if it didn’t work out, their relationship would be ruined.

  But the damage was already done. They’d crossed that line from friend to something else, then tried to step back over it again. What they were left with was neither.

  Now Tyler was leaving.

  The front door opened, then shut, and she stopped her work long enough to watch him load his bags into the passenger side of his pickup. He circled back around to the driver’s side, then stopped to face her.

  “I guess that’s it. We’ll stay in touch, right?” His tone was hesitant.

  “Sure.” She pushed herself to her feet, spade still in her hand. Should she go hug him? Not unless he initiated it. After all, he was the one leaving, not her.

  He shifted his weight to the other foot but made no move to open the door. He seemed troubled. Lost. And her heart broke.

  She wasn’t the only one with fears. Tyler, who’d faced down the enemy, boldly served his country and survived three tours of duty, never knowing whether each minute would be his last, had fears, too. And when everything got to be too much, he pulled up roots and ran.

  The first time he’d left her, he hadn’t had a choice. Now he did. When faced with the thought of settling down and letting someone close enough to share his traumas, he was choosing the easy way out.