Daniel laughed.
“Not this time.” I assured and reached down, grabbing the handle of the blade and turning it.
He screamed until the sound diminished into a wet gurgle, then ultimately faded away.
Red and blue lights filled the darkness, bouncing off the side of the house. The loud sirens cut off, leaving behind nothing but the sound of Sadie crying, the wind, and the waves.
I glared down at Daniel. His eyes stared back, but they no longer saw. Water crashed over him, filling his mouth, seeping into his nose and pulling at his hair. His shirt was stained pink now, and his body only moved in the direction the water pushed him.
“Eddie!” Amnesia yelled, her voice carrying on the wind.
I spun around, glancing up to where she limped off the porch, staring down where I stood. An officer tried to take her arm, but she pushed him off, stumbling a bit, and continued toward me.
I left Daniel where he lay and sprinted toward her, stopping only when she was within touching distance. I was afraid to pull her against me. Her shirt was saturated in blood.
“We gotta get you to the ER,” I said, concerned.
“Is he…?” Her eyes began to stray over my shoulder.
I went forward, wrapped my arms around her shoulders, and carefully pulled her in. “Don’t look,” I ordered, shielding her with my body.
“Is he dead?”
“Yes, he’s dead.”
“Eddie!” One of the officers jogged over. “What the hell happened here?”
“There’s a dead body on the shore. He’s the one who kidnapped Am and Sadie… He tried to take them again tonight.”
The man immediately sent a few officers down toward the shore.
“We need a medic.” I went on, pulling back so the officer could see the wound in Am’s side.
“Go get that looked at. We’ll talk after the scene is secure.”
I didn’t have to be told twice. On our way to the ambulance, Amnesia stumbled. I picked her up.
“What about you?” She winced. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay as long as you are.”
“You killed him,” she murmured.
“I’d kill him again if I could.”
The EMTs motioned me to put her down on a gurney, so I did. Her eyes began to stray back to the shore, and I stepped in front of her once again.
“Sadie’s crying,” Am whispered. “She’s crying over his body.”
“I know,” I said, grim.
She reached out for my hand, and I gave it readily. Her shirt was cut away, baring the nasty knife wound on her side.
“Definitely going to need stitches,” the medic announced.
“Go to her,” she told me, squeezing my hand. “Go to Sadie.”
“I want to stay with you,” I murmured, feeling guilty but unable to deny the way I felt. I almost lost her tonight. It was too close.
“I’m right here.” She promised. “We have a few minutes before we need to leave for the hospital, right?” she asked the EMT.
“Yeah,” he answered. “We’ll need to get the other victim in the back, too.”
“Go to her,” Amnesia urged. “She’ll come if you ask her to.”
I knew she would, but somehow, that made me hesitate more. It seemed wrong, almost like I was no better than Daniel and the widow. Using her. Twisting her feelings against her. I didn’t want to be like them.
I wanted to help her, but I also didn’t want to give her any false hope there was a chance for anything more than friendship.
“She’s so confused right now.” I agonized, trying to discern what to do.
A woman stepped around the side of the ambulance. She was dressed slightly haphazardly, as if she’d been in a hurry.
“Dr. Kline!” Amnesia said, surprised.
“I’ve been on standby since Sadie went missing. They called, said she was here?”
I nodded, but Amnesia answered, “Yes, she’s very upset. He died.”
“She stabbed Amnesia. She has no idea what she’s doing,” I added.
“I see.” Dr. Kline frowned.
“Will you be able to help her?” Amnesia asked, worried despite the wound in her side.
“Yes. I’ve already made arrangements for Sadie to get the best care possible at a facility in Portland. She’s going to be in good hands.”
“She’s going now?” I asked, feeling this was all so sudden.
“It’s what’s best for her. So she can’t hurt anyone else or herself.”
I knew it was best, but it still sucked. “I’ll get her,” I offered.
The EMT ripped open a large wipe and pressed it against Amnesia’s side. Her breath hissed between her teeth, her eyes closed.
“It’s okay,” I told her, squeezing her hand, wishing I could take the pain.
Dr. Kline stepped forward, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Stay here with Amnesia. I’ll get Sadie.”
I pulled back, looking into her eyes.
“It’s for the best,” she said gently. “At least right now.”
I hesitated, wanting to resist. It seemed I was somehow turning my back on Sadie.
Dr. Kline seemed to know the direction of my thoughts. “Do it for her. It will make it less confusing later. I’ll be sure to call when she’s more stable, more in touch with reality.”
“Will she ever be?” I worried.
“I think so.” The doctor smiled. “Take care of Amnesia,” she said, gesturing to Am.
“Thank you, Dr. Kline,” she called out.
Dr. Kline gave her a small wave. “See you at our next session.”
When she was gone, Amnesia glanced at me. The EMT covered her wound and announced we were heading the hospital alone. Sadie would follow in a different vehicle.
I climbed in the back after she was comfortably situated and stared at Sadie, who was finally away from the body and now with Dr. Kline. She glanced up; our eyes connected across the yard.
I had a vision of the girl I once knew, happy and carefree. Tears burned the backs of my eyes.
Then she did something. She lifted her hand and made an X over her heart and smiled.
I smiled back. The old-school gesture gave me hope everything would be okay.
The doors of the ambulance closed, cutting off the harsh lights and the sound of people talking. I turned to Amnesia, finally alone with my girl in the center of quite literally murder and chaos.
“Thank you for protecting me.” She reached for my hand.
I smiled, slid closer, and cupped her face. “Thank you for staying in the house.”
“It felt kind of wimpy,” she admitted.
“There is nothing wimpy about you, Am. You protected yourself for years and years with no help. You aren’t alone anymore, sweetheart. You have me, and I will always protect you.”
A tear ran down her cheek. I brushed it away with the backs of my fingers.
“It’s finally over,” she whispered.
“It’s finally over,” I echoed.
The ambulance started up and pulled away from the house.
“What now?” she asked, leaning her head against my shoulder.
“Now you get stitches,” I teased.
“After that,” she said, sitting up to give me a light shove. The motion caused her to wince.
“Easy,” I cautioned, carefully lifting her into my lap.
Her fingers brushed over a few bumps and bruises on my face. She leaned up and kissed them softly.
“After that, we live happily ever after,” I said, kissing her on the tip of her nose.
She smiled. “Did you get that line from a movie?”
“It’s a good line. Totally applies here,” I said reasonably.
“It only applies if it’s true,” she whispered.
Tipping her chin up with my thumb, I asked, “What do you think?”
Her brown eyes softened. The freckles across her nose and cheeks looked like stars. “True.” She decided.
My lips claimed hers.
Most definitely true.
We got married on the shores of Lake Loch. Right in our backyard to be exact. Our guests stood in the grass; mine and Eddie’s feet were in the water.
Some probably thought we were insane to make the lake such a big part of our day. A lake that caused so much pain and turmoil. A lake that nearly robbed us of our happily ever after more than once.
But what they didn’t understand…
The lake also brought us together.
Lake Lochlain was in many ways the catalyst for the wedding we stood at today.
Of course, some think the lake wasn’t any of these things. It was just a lake, just a body of water with no real spirit or character. I knew better than most this was the furthest from the truth.
I could have drowned that night I jumped from the hunting stand. I was almost plucked from the depths by a madman who refused to let me go.
But I was protected.
Carried away by the waves, concealed beneath the murky depths.
And though I couldn’t remember, I understood at times I’d been cradled by the water until Eddie pulled me to safety.
Sometimes when I stood on the shores and gazed out over the ever-changing current (that somehow always felt the same), I wondered if the water that surrounded my prison for many years was the very thing that set me free.
The doctors say my amnesia stemmed from trauma. My therapist told me it was my mind’s way of protecting me. So many logical, sensible conclusions to explain why I couldn’t remember much about my past.
I had a reason of my own, however. One that wasn’t so scientific. One that would probably get me more time with the head shrink if I ever voiced the theory.
The lake.
Somehow, Lake Loch washed away everything in my past. I knew even without seeing, all my memories, my old identity, and where I came from lay at the bottom of the water. Down in its deepest depths among the largest rocks, the laziest of fish, and perhaps even the Loch Ness herself.
I was just another secret the lake would likely never give up.
And I was okay with that.
The lake could have my past. In trade, I got a future.
I was given amnesty.
Freedom.
There were remnants from before, fragments of clarity the lake showed me. They were horrible and partly unwanted, but not unnecessary.
I wouldn’t understand the true gift of amnesty if everything remained forgotten.
So there we stood on the shore by the water, which on the day of our wedding was calm and peaceful. The surface so smooth it looked like glass and reflected the beautiful Maine landscape like a mirror. The early spring day was cold, but all I felt was the sun’s rays shining down upon us.
As we said our vows, as I pledged to love him forever—for richer or poorer, in memory and amnesia, even after death—I looked across the water at the island and smiled.
“For the first time,” the minister announced, “the beginning of a new life together—”
“A new era.” Eddie cut in, reaching out to palm my softly rounding belly with his oversized hand.
A tiny flutter erupted within me, but it wasn’t butterflies, not today. Today it was the stirring of our yet-to-be-born child.
(PS: That’s what happens when you’re so in love you never once think about birth control.)
(PSS: Sometimes not thinking—not knowing—results in something wonderful.)
People on the grass chuckled. I covered my new husband’s hand with mine. “A new era.” I agreed.
The minister inclined his head and smiled. “May I introduce, officially, Mr. Eddie Donovan and his wife, Mrs. Amn—”
Both Eddie and I glanced up, wondering if he would remember.
“Mrs. Amnesty Donovan.”
Turns out Amnesia wasn’t a good fit for me anymore. I was no longer a “complete memory wipe.” I was full.
So incredibly full, and that in itself was my freedom.
I smiled so wide, but it was short lived because Eddie dragged me up against him and crushed his mouth over mine.
Water rushed up to our ankles, Lake Loch granting us approval. People clapped, and the cold spring breeze blew.
Behind us, the minister cleared his throat. We broke the kiss.
Eddie grabbed my hand and we turned, backs toward Rumor Island, facing forward to our lake home, our family, and our friends.
I looked first at Maggie, who was crying happy tears. She blew me a kiss, and I smiled.
Forgoing the tradition of turning around, I lifted the white bouquet of roses I held and tossed it right at Mary Beth. Her eyes widened when it fell into her arms, and I winked. I was totally betting on her and Robbie.
With one hand in Eddie’s and another on the child we created, we walked out of the water and into the waiting crowd.
“Just wait until you see the cake I made,” Joline said, rushing to our side. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.”
“I’m sure it is,” I told her sincerely.
Jeremy stepped up behind her. “Good Lord, woman, leave them to bask in their wedded glow. The cake can wait.” Joline gave him the evil eye, and he patted Eddie on the shoulder. “Enjoy that glow while it lasts.”
Eddie turned to me, sweeping me into his chest. “I think it’s never going to fade away.”
Our kiss transported me to a place where we were the only two on the shore. No one else was within earshot, cake the furthest thing from my mind.
“Congratulations, sweetheart!” Maggie said, cutting into the happy bubble.
We broke apart again, reality rushing back as we were surrounded by Eddie’s parents and the only mother I would ever know.
I hugged her tightly. “Thank you for everything. I love you so much.” I drew in a deep breath. “Mom.”
Her arms tightened around me. When she pulled back, tears streamed down her face. “You better get back. I’m going to cry all over that dress.”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
“Come on, missus,” Eddie said, taking me by the hand again. “I have a feeling if we don’t go see the cake and all the catering Joline and Maple’s restaurant did, we might be barred from our own reception.”
“I like the sound of that,” I told him.
“Being barred from our own wedding cake?” he puzzled.
“Missus,” I corrected. “Being your missus.”
Both dimples appeared and his azure eyes sparkled with the wolfish smile that transformed his face. “Good, because it’s permanent.”
We started following along behind the guests as they walked toward a large white tent erected right there on our lawn. Eddie paused, glancing back over his shoulder, eyes sweeping the lake and the island in the distance.
“You’re thinking about her,” I observed, understanding completely.
His eyes came back to mine, a little dimmer than before. “I just wish she was able to be as happy as we are. That she’d been granted some sort of…” His voice faded away as he searched for the right word.
“Amnesty?” I finished for him.
“Yeah, maybe.” He agreed.
“Sadie will find her freedom.” I promised. I didn’t feel bad for it either, because I knew deep down inside me it was true. “She’s getting all the help she needs now. It’s going to take a while. Her memories and experiences will always be there. But she’s a survivor. Widow West, on the other hand... I have a feeling she’s probably going to spend the rest of her life in an institution. There’s no saving her. But Sadie, she’s going to find her happily ever after just like you did.”
Eddie’s arms slipped around me. Between us, my rounded belly brushed against his middle. “Like we did.”
I nodded.
“I love you,” he vowed, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke.
“Cross my heart,” I whispered, delving my fingers into the dark, wild curls on his head. “Hope to die.”
He smiled, pressing his forehead a
gainst mine. “You will be forever mine.”
And I was.
Copycat Joline’s Monkey Bread Muffins
‘Cause she won’t give me her secret recipe!
Ingredients
3 cans of cinnamon rolls (your favorite brand)
1 can of apple pie filling
½ c raisins (optional)
¼ c brown sugar
¼ c granulated sugar
1 T flour
1 t cinnamon
1 t salt
2 T melted butter
4 T milk (any kind)
muffin liner cups
Directions
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Place can of apples into a bowl and cut into small pieces. To the apples, add in brown sugar, granulated sugar, flour, raisins (optional), half the cinnamon (reserving the other half for the glaze), and the melted butter. Remove cinnamon rolls from cans, cut into small pieces. Combine the biscuit pieces into the apple mixture. Mix together.
Spoon mixture into muffin tins lined with foil cups. Fill each cup about three-quarters full.
Bake at 350 degrees for about 25 minutes (depending on oven).
Glaze
While muffins are baking, combine milk, powdered sugar, and cinnamon in a bowl. Mix to create a cinnamon glaze to drizzle over warm muffins when they come out of the oven. OR you could also use the icing included with the cinnamon rolls
Makes approximately 24 muffins
We meet again. It’s the end of another book for me and the end of this duet. I’m still a little fuzzy headed because I just typed the end today, and my brain is pretty mush. So let’s hope I can string together a few more sentences here and let you know my thoughts.
I know this duo has a different feel from most of my other books, and it was fun to stretch in a new direction and do something a little different. I’m really honored by the readers who have been willing to embrace this story and these books, even if it’s out of their norm, too.
This was definitely a challenging duo to write. Originally, I planned on Amnesia being a single standalone title. But sometimes books and characters have other ideas. The more I delved into this book, the more the plot unfolded itself and honestly… the messier it got. Ha! Halfway through writing Amnesia, I logged on Facebook (as one does) and saw the cover for this book. I had the same reaction to it as I did to Amnesia. The instant, “Oh, wow,” and, “This is haunting.” And instantly, I thought, Oh my gosh, this is perfect. This isn’t a single title anymore. There are two books, and this is my cover. (This cover is designed by the same artist who designed Amnesia—Cover Me Darling.) I messaged the designer right away and told her it would make an awesome follow-up, and she agreed.
Amnesty: Amnesia Duet Book 2 Page 26