Pass Protection (Fair Catch Series, Book Five)

by Christine Kersey

  With difficulty, she made her way to the bathroom. At first she avoided the mirror—would it even be her looking back?—but then she couldn’t stop herself. Gazing at her reflection, she recognized herself—same blue eyes, same small nose, same full lips. But something was different. It wasn’t just the bruises on her face or the tangles in her hair or the bandage on her scalp. Tiny lines fanned out from the corners of her eyes. They were subtle, but when she looked closely, she could see them.

  She looked…older.

  Well, according to Dr. Richmond, she was older. Five years older.

  The thought that she’d lost five years of her life was, to say the least, disconcerting.

  I’ll get them back, she told herself. I have to.

  Lips pressed together in determination, she opened the door to the bathroom. And there was Greg. Standing right outside.

  “Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked. “I could’ve helped you.”

  The thought of this stranger helping her into the bathroom was more than she could stomach. “I don’t need your help.”

  He flinched, but not able to deal with his feelings, she turned away and crutched back to the bed. Slipping between the covers, she wondered when she would be able to go home. Then an alarming thought hit her. Where was her home?

  Sneaking a peek at Greg, she wondered if he would insist on taking her to his home, that he would claim it was her home.

  Could it be? Could he be telling the truth? Was she married to him? The doctor seemed to believe it. Had there been some sort of proof the hospital had required Greg to produce? Proof that they were married? To allow him to sleep in her room? Did he have some proof he could show her?

  Greg hadn’t slept well. Part of the reason was the cot—too short for his six foot two inch frame and just not comfortable at all. But the main reason was his hyperawareness of Olivia. Every time she’d turned over or made a noise in her sleep, he’d jolted awake. Except when she actually got up. He’d missed that one.

  She’d always been independent—that was one of the things he loved about her. But flat-out telling him that she didn’t need his help? That stung.

  “Do you have any pictures?” she asked as she pulled the sheet up to her chest.

  Any time she paid him a bit of attention, he was riveted, desperate for her to acknowledge him. “Pictures? What kind of pictures?”

  “Proving that we’re…married.”

  She wanted proof. Wow. Then again, if she had no memory of him or their marriage, he couldn’t exactly blame her. Still, it was jarring. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

  “Can you get it?”

  His eyebrows went up. “Now?”

  She nodded.

  Was this a trick? Was she planning on getting out of here and disappearing while he was gone? Would she call—

  No, he wasn’t going to go there. If she had no memory of him or their marriage, then she must have no memory of what she’d done or of who she’d done it with. Curling his lip in disgust and anger, Greg looked at his lap. He had to get his emotions under control. He had to focus on Olivia and what she needed. Despite the way she’d betrayed him.

  Forcing a neutral expression onto his face, he lifted his gaze and looked at her. There was no guile there. It appeared that she truly needed him to prove he was who he said he was. Okay. He could do that.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll be back in about an hour.”

  She stared at him a moment, her expression unreadable. “Thank you.”

  The blue of her eyes captured him the way it always did, and with a nod, he turned and left the room.

  Chapter Three

  “When can I get out of here?” Olivia asked Dr. Richmond the moment he stepped into her room. Greg wasn’t back yet, and though Olivia’s future was completely uncertain, she didn’t like being in the hospital. Somehow she believed that she would get better faster if she was somewhere she’d been before. Even if that was a place she didn’t remember.

  She had to believe that her memory would return, desperately hoped that it would, clung to that hope with everything she had.

  “Today,” Dr. Richmond said with a smile. “But first, I’ve ordered two tests. Once you’ve completed those, I’ll sign your discharge papers.” He glanced around. “Where’s Greg?”

  Not wanting to admit that she’d asked for proof that he was her husband, she hedged. “He, uh, he’ll be back in a bit.”

  “All right. Someone will come for you in a few minutes for those tests.”

  “What kind of tests?”

  “I’ve ordered an MRI and a CT Scan. Those will give me pictures of your brain.”

  That seemed harmless. “Okay.”

  “Once those tests are done, you’ll be free to leave.”

  “Thank you.”

  With a nod, Dr. Richmond left. Olivia was determined to dress herself so that she would be ready to leave as soon as possible. Even though she had yet to see the proof that Greg was her husband, just the fact that he’d been willing to get the proof comforted her.

  By the time she was dressed, she was worn out. Keeping the weight off of her right foot made everything more difficult. And it didn’t help that her head pounded. She didn’t know why, but when she’d been offered stronger pain meds, she’d immediately declined. It had been an almost visceral reaction.

  A short time later, a woman came with a wheelchair to take her for her tests, and when Olivia returned to her room, Greg was there, a photo album on his lap. Olivia moved from the wheelchair to the bed and the woman left her alone with Greg.

  “How’d it go?” he asked.

  She didn’t want to talk about the tests. Not when her past was about to be presented to her. Gaze riveted to the album, she glanced at Greg. “Can I look?”

  He nodded as he handed it to her. “Of course.”

  She stared at the closed book now resting on her lap. She was about to see pictures of herself doing things she had no memory of—important things like getting married. Distressed at the thought, she drew in a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

  She wanted to look at these pictures without Greg looking over her shoulder waiting for her to suddenly remember him. With another glance at Greg, she said, “I’d like to be alone.”

  Greg hesitated, but only for a moment. “Of course.” He looked toward the hallway. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see if your discharge papers are ready.”

  Olivia watched Greg leave. He hadn’t said anything about where he’d take her once she was discharged. She’d assumed he was planning on taking her home with him, but what if she was wrong? Panic flooded her. If he didn’t take her home, where would she go? She’d gone from being wary of him to realizing she needed him.

  Squeezing her eyes closed as she got her emotions under control, Olivia took a moment, and then she focused on the album on her lap. With the sounds and smells of the hospital fading into the background, she silently opened the cover, and when she saw a picture of a radiant couple in their wedding clothes—the bride in a fitted white gown and the groom in a black tuxedo—gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes, everything around her disappeared.

  She was the woman in the picture and the man was definitely Greg. The evidence was right there in front of her. They were married.

  Stunned that she could have forgotten something so important, she wondered what else of importance had fled her mind.

  Not ready to delve that deeply into her worries, she turned the page, then another, then another. She soaked up each and every image, each and every smile, each and every look of love. She’d been in love with Greg. That was abundantly clear. And he’d been in love with her. Was he still? She had no reason to doubt that he wasn’t.

  She studied the other people in the pictures. Who were they? She didn’t recognize anyone.

  Then an image of her mother filled her mind. She remembered her! Why wasn’t she in any of these pictures? Why hadn’t she come to see Olivia at the hospital? Her mother loved her. Of that she had no doubt. If
it was possible for her to come to her daughter’s side, she would have. Which could only mean one thing.

  Something must have happened to her mother in the last five years. Something that Olivia couldn’t remember.

  How could she forget something so critical? So life altering? And what had happened exactly? Could her mother be…dead?

  At the thought, tears flooded her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Losing her memory was bad enough, but losing her mother… It was too much to bear. Quietly sobbing, Olivia tried to guess at what had happened, but it was an exercise in frustration. After several minutes, she filled her lungs with air, held her breath for a moment, then slowly exhaled. She did this over and over until her emotions were under control. Then, chest tight with grief, she mentally shook herself. She shouldn’t jump to conclusions. There could be any number of reasons why her mother wasn’t in any of the pictures.

  She didn’t want Greg to know she’d been upset, so she went into the bathroom and washed away all evidence of her sorrow, then came back out and settled into a chair before placing the album on her lap.

  She would have to ask him about her mother. She had no choice. He was the only person she knew. The only person who would have answers. But not yet. She couldn’t face devastating news about her mother. Not just yet.

  Sensing that someone had come into the room, she lifted her head and saw Greg standing in the doorway, a question on his face. He was so handsome, so strong. And she knew now that she’d loved him once. At least the woman in the album had loved him. But she didn’t feel a connection to that woman. Other than looking like her and sharing her name, the woman could be her twin—a completely separate person who happened to share her DNA. Except that Olivia didn’t have any siblings. Of that she was certain.

  She glanced at the album on her lap before looking at Greg again. “I don’t…” She shook her head. “I don’t remember any of this.”

  The hope on his face melted away as a muscle moved in his jaw. “Will you…that is…I hope you’ll let me take you home. Let me take care of you.”

  His offer flooded her with relief. “Yes. I would appreciate that.” A small smile lifted her lips. “Thank you.”

  “Are you ready to go home?”

  Home. That was such a loaded word. Regardless, she was ready to get out of the hospital. “Yes.”

  Greg smiled. “Okay. I’ll have a nurse bring a wheelchair.”

  Wanting to lighten the mood, Olivia glanced toward her crutches. “Good. Because I’m not great with those things.”

  “They’re just temporary.”

  He spoke with such confidence that Olivia believed him. Comforted, she watched as he gathered her few belongings.

  It was only when she’d agreed to let him take her home that Greg realized how worried he’d been that she would tell him no, that she never wanted to see him again. Now, as he set the plastic hospital bag on the bed, he tried not to think too far ahead, to what would happen if she didn’t get her memory back, if she changed her mind about letting him take care of her. If she left him.

  “Here you go, Olivia,” a nurse said as she rolled the wheelchair into the room.

  Not wanting to get into Olivia’s space before she was ready, Greg watched the nurse help Olivia into the wheelchair.

  “All set?” the nurse asked.

  “Yes,” Olivia said.

  The nurse looked at Greg for confirmation, and he nodded. Moments later they set off with Greg following the nurse as she pushed Olivia’s wheelchair.

  When they reached the ground floor and began heading down a back hallway, Greg was glad Olivia didn’t question why they weren’t leaving through the main lobby. He didn’t want to confuse things by having to explain that the media was outside waiting for them to emerge. Since she had no memory of him, he was confident she had no idea he was the famous Greg Sinclair, wide receiver for the Sacramento Vipers. She had enough to digest without having to think about that aspect of their lives. She’d never been overly impressed by his celebrity—there was no reason to think she would care about it now.

  What he needed to focus on was helping her to heal. And to recover her memory.

  Chapter Four

  So focused on dealing with her aches and pains and her empty memory banks, Olivia hardly noticed the scenery as Greg drove them toward a house that she hoped would hold the key to her past. Maybe when she walked into the home she’d shared with him, saw the space that had once been familiar, smelled the scents that had once been part of her existence—maybe then she would start to remember.

  “Here we are,” Greg announced a while later.

  That caught Olivia’s attention, and as Greg pulled up to a gate, punched in a code, then drove up a circular driveway toward a large, beautiful house, her eyebrows furrowed. Was this where he lived? Where she lived? This was a dream house, the type of house she’d always admired from afar. The type of house she’d never imagined living in.

  A lake was visible behind the property and a number of trees were dotted around the gorgeous landscape.

  She turned to Greg as he parked his white SUV next to a walkway that led to the front door. “Is this your house?”

  He shut off the engine and turned to her with a lopsided grin. “This is our house.”

  Our house. Despite her uncertainty about everything, she liked the sound of that, liked the idea of knowing she had a place she could call home.

  Greg jumped out of the car and walked around to the passenger side, taking the crutches out of the back seat before opening her door and holding them out to her.

  “Thank you.” Taking them from him, she glanced at him before slowly sliding out of the car and landing on her good foot. She could tell that he wanted to help her, but she was grateful he held back. Using the crutches, she followed him to the front door. He inserted his key and moments later the front door swung open.

  Olivia crutched her way through the entry and into the family room, overwhelmed by the elegant beauty of the space. Wooden beams emphasized the vaulted ceiling and the built-in bookshelves on either side of the fireplace gave the space a cozy feel. Through tall sliding glass doors, the lake behind the property was visible.

  The space was perfection, but it was completely unfamiliar.

  Stopping in the middle of the room, she turned to Greg. “Are you sure I live here?”

  A frown tugged at his lips. “Yes. I’m sure. We built this place together, Olivia.” His jaw tightened. “You picked out every fixture, every paint color. Every…” he swept his arm toward the couch, “…piece of furniture.”

  Why couldn’t she remember?

  Frustrated beyond all reason, all she could do was turn her back on Greg and stare at the lake.

  “Do you want to go outside?” he asked.

  Not knowing what else to do, she nodded without turning around. Greg opened one of the sliders and she made her way outside. Even the back patio was stunning. Coffered ceilings covered the expansive space and ceiling fans slowly spun. An outdoor fireplace adorned one wall and a comfortable looking seating area was positioned to maximize the view.

  Olivia crutched over to the couch and slowly settled onto the cushions.

  “Are you hungry?” Greg asked. “Thirsty?”

  Looking at the man who was trying so hard to take care of her, she nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

  He looked relieved, like he was glad to have something he could actually do for her. She watched him go, not able to stop herself from admiring his athletic build. A spark of attraction lit inside her, and her lips lifted in a small smile. Good thing she was attracted to him. He was her husband after all.

  Her gaze swept the space and she wondered how they could afford such a gorgeous home. What did they do for a living? Did she have a fabulous career that she couldn’t remember? Maybe she was a doctor, or a lawyer. Or maybe she was a model.

  Chuckling at that last one, she shook her head.

  Maybe she ran her own business.

  That th
ought troubled her. What if this accident affected their income? If she couldn’t remember what she did for a living, how could she possibly go back to work? Would they have to sell the house because of her? Where would they go?

  She needed to ask Greg about their financial situation, but somehow it felt too…personal. Almost like asking a stranger how much money he earned. She couldn’t do it. Not yet. She had enough to think about without worrying about their finances.

  Greg watched Olivia as he made sandwiches. He couldn’t imagine what she must be thinking, what she had to be going through. What would it be like to forget so much about your life? To have nothing be familiar? To not even remember your own spouse?

  That’s what hurt the most.

  At least she’d agreed to come home—to the home they’d created together. With any luck, being here would help her memory come back. Except there was one thing he didn’t want her to remember. That she’d cheated on him.

  Clenching his jaw as his nostrils flared, he thought back to the week before her accident. That’s when he’d confronted her. And that’s when she’d denied it. Vehemently. And when he’d asked her to explain, she’d refused, telling him it was a private matter. That he had to trust her.

  Trust her? He knew the truth. He’d seen the proof. Why had she argued so passionately against what he knew? Why wouldn’t she admit the truth?

  Tearing his gaze away from his wife, he cut the sandwiches into halves.

  Didn’t matter now. If she didn’t remember that they were married, then surely she didn’t remember the scumbag she’d cheated on him with.