by Rachel Lee
“Relax,” he said presently. “I told you, I think, that I’m exactly where I want to be. Maybe now would be a good time for you to try thinking about something else, rather than giving yourself a headache. Like when you grew up here, or something. I’m open.”
She gazed back at him, wondering if he was bucking for sainthood. Or if he felt he was paying some karmic debt. Because frankly, if she could escape her own head, she would. Lickety-split. He was choosing to stay.
“God, you’re amazing,” she said. “I’d be long since done with me.”
He gave a quiet laugh. “Good thing you’re not the one making the decision. So, childhood?”
“I don’t want to talk about that. Other than growing up with my grandparents, it was all very ordinary for Glenda and me. We had a nice life.”
“At least stop thinking about the coffee,” he suggested. “Giving yourself a headache isn’t going to help anything.”
“Actually, it might have.”
“How so?”
She chewed her lower lip a moment, then said, “I’m starting to wonder how much of this amnesia is psychological, not physical.”
He stepped closer, keeping his hands in his pockets. “Meaning?”
“If this were neurological damage alone... I don’t understand why I get headaches when I try to remember. I’m wondering if I’m stopping myself from remembering.”
His eyebrows lifted a bit. “I could sure understand that.”
“So can I. I’m not sure what’s going on. I could be all wet. But the headaches... That feels more like pushback.”
“Wow,” he murmured. His gaze trailed away from her, and for a minute he stared into space. “I know it can happen. I’ve seen it happen. The brain has some pretty good built-in protection. I’ve seen it build walls that some guys could never get past.” His eyes shifted back to her. “So the headaches got you wondering?”
“That and the fact that so much in my textbooks seemed so familiar.” She sighed, folding her arms even tighter. “But it doesn’t add up. Why would I lose so much of three years to block one incident?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted.
“The neurologist said my brain would start building new connections and that I might get big parts of my memory back. I suppose that could be happening. I mean, why else would I lose three years? That seems so weird.”
“How long were you in Denver training?”
She felt the color drain from her face and reached out a hand to steady herself. “Three years,” she whispered. “Oh, God, do you suppose I wiped out everything to do with Denver to cover one memory?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy here. But it seems possible to me. Wipe out Denver, and you wipe out any need to stay there or go back there. Or maybe you just make one supremely important blank seem like part of a larger blank. But you need a professional for this, not me.”
“Yeah, I guess I do. But you just gave me a lot to think about.” Strength began to return to her, and she let go of the counter, pointing at the stack of textbooks still on the table. “They were so familiar as I was looking through them. I remembered studying them. I could remember a lot of what was in them.”
Then she raised worried eyes to his. “What if I’ve done this to myself?”
Chapter 10
“Did what to yourself?” Glenda asked. She entered the kitchen clad in light cotton pajamas covered with prints of small cats. Yawning, she headed straight for the coffeepot.
“The amnesia,” Kylie said tautly. “What if it’s not the brain damage that did it?”
“Then booyah,” Glenda said around another yawn. “A lot of amnesia is purely traumatic, and if I had my druthers, that would be the best kind. Come on, Kylie, I’m sure you remember this much. If it’s traumatic, the chances are good most everything you’ve forgotten will come back to you. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
She plopped at the table and drank half her cup of coffee before eyeing the two of them. “Neither of you looks really happy. What’s been going on while I was asleep?”
When Kylie hesitated, Coop didn’t step in. She realized he believed this was her story to tell. Unfortunately, that would spare her none of the ugliness or the questions. Man, she was turning into a major coward. She was just talking to her sister, for crying out loud.
“I had a memory,” she said finally, sitting near Glenda because it was suddenly hard to trust her legs. “It seems so meaningless—coffee being poured into cups on a white plastic table. Someone else was there but I couldn’t see who. Just the coffee mostly.”
Glenda glanced up and gave Coop a smile as he refilled her coffee cup. “Okay, you had a memory. I take it that it didn’t exactly strike you as meaningless.”
“She lost touch for a while,” Coop said flatly.
Glenda closed her eyes for a long moment, and drew a deep, slow breath. “So, okay, somehow related to the attack. Except for the effect on you, I’d say this was good. You’re starting to recall. Why do I think you’d rather not?”
“Why would I want to, Glenda? That business with the knife, and the pain I felt... Why would I want to know any more?”
Glenda’s expression turned suddenly fierce. “So we can catch the bastard who hurt you!” She jumped up from the table. “I’m going to get ready and go into work early. I want to talk to some people about this. The neurologist. The psychiatrist. Maybe they’ll have some ideas...”
She was gone. Kylie sat staring at the air Glenda had recently occupied and felt her stomach twist into knots. She’d never seen her sister look quite like that. And worse, she didn’t want to upset Glenda like this, although how she could avoid it...
“I shouldn’t have told her,” she said.
“You did exactly the right thing. And if you’d skated around it, I wouldn’t have. This is too important, Kylie.”
She shook her head a little, then felt Coop’s hand come to rest on her shoulder. He gave it a squeeze.
“I didn’t want to make her feel worse, Coop.”
“I think that’s pretty much impossible since the rose arrived. She just hides it well.”
Maybe so, Kylie thought. Whatever demon pursued her, now it was affecting everyone around her. She wished with all her might that she had some way to put a stop to this. To spare everyone.
*
Coop tried to distract Kylie with a card game after Glenda left, but he knew her heart wasn’t in it. Finally he said, “Kylie, you’ve got to give yourself a break. You can’t focus on this all the time.”
“That’s easy to say when you don’t have someone out there hunting you like this. When you aren’t worried about the safety of everyone you know.”
As soon as she spoke, she knew she’d said the wrong thing. His face darkened and he pushed back from the table, leaving the room.
Oh, man, she’d put her foot in it big-time. He didn’t talk about it much, but this man had been in combat. He must have spent countless hours knowing he was being hunted, worrying about the men he was with. To imply he didn’t understand...
She felt about two inches tall and wished she could find a way to take those words back. She’d have given nearly everything for a hole to just swallow her up.
But a few minutes later, he reappeared, his face calm again. “I know it’s hard,” he said. “I remember how hard it was, especially at first. All we could do, Kylie, was distract ourselves as much as possible. We played cards and other games when we weren’t standing post. We wrote letters home. Anything to take a break from the tension. You’ve got to find a way to do that before you snap.”
“I’m sorry for what I said. But I think I’m already snapping.”
“You’re not anywhere near snapping. You’ve had a couple of memories, and as far as I can see you’ve done a damn good job of handling them. Trust me on this. If cards won’t distract you, we’ll find something else. Anything that’ll work that won’t put you in more danger.”
She acknowledged the justice
of what he said. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“None of us do at first. But the harder you beat your head on this, the more likely you are to wear yourself out or stymie the very memories that could put an end to this. Let your subconscious do the work and find a way to relax a little.”
Easier said than done, she thought. Ever since waking in the hospital, one thing had been first and foremost on her mind: the attack. The memory loss.
The loss of her future.
But even as she had these familiar thoughts, thoughts that had been running in her head like a hamster on a wheel for weeks now, something else crept in. Anger. Real anger. Was she going to let that creep keep stealing every single moment of her life from her? Was she going to wallow in the grave he’d tried to dig for her?
Or was she going to take charge of something? Anything. Just a small part of herself. Glenda had offered her an opportunity to shadow her at the hospital but she’d turned it down out of fear. What if she went with Glenda and realized she hadn’t forgotten how to be a nurse?
Was she afraid of that, too?
“You’re right,” she said, her voice surprisingly firm. “I’m terrifying myself more than that guy ever could. I’m letting him run every waking moment of my life. Enough.”
“Enough?”
“Enough. Whatever the future holds, there won’t be much of one if I keep cowering like this. It stops now.”
“How do you want to stop it?” he asked.
She looked at him standing there, probably the most attractive man she’d ever seen, or at least noticed, and decided to take a huge risk. She could no longer try to ignore those broad shoulders and narrow hips, the easy way he moved as if he were at home in his body. She couldn’t ignore the attraction any longer.
Rising from the table, she crossed the kitchen and took his warm hand.
He didn’t say anything, but let her lead him to the living room couch. With a gentle push, she urged him to sit, then she curled up beside him and leaned into him.
“I think,” she said, only the faintest tremor in her voice, “that it would be safe for a marine to drop his drawers sometimes.”
He caught his breath, then laughed. But he didn’t argue. Twisting, he caught her face with one hand and found her mouth with a kiss that seared its way past all her barriers, finding the icy places inside her and heating them until they blazed. Just a kiss. No kiss had made her feel like steel melting into a puddle of glowing heat. His did.
She raised her arms, wrapping them around his neck, wanting him as close as she could get him. The world receded quickly, leaving nothing but the two of them in a growing blaze of desire.
His tongue plundered her, learning every contour of her mouth, and each movement sent another spear of longing through her. She could hardly wait for more, and nearly held her breath in anticipation.
Then his hand began to slide down her shoulder, slowly. Too slowly. She wanted to hurry him up, but didn’t want to risk destroying the moment. Lower it slid until at last it found her breast.
She nearly arched as he squeezed her, her head tipping back from his kiss as she gasped for air.
“Too much?” he whispered.
“Not enough,” she managed. It would never be enough, not until they joined in a tangle of sheets.
His hand traveled lower, slipping under her T-shirt. He trailed his fingers across her naked midriff, drawing gasp after gasp of delight from her. She loosened one arm, seeking the buttons of his shirt, wanting so badly to feel his bare chest beneath her palms. But then his hand slipped up and under her bra, finding bare skin and her nipple all at once. He squeezed the nub, and a soft cry of pleasure escaped her.
Yesss!
Then the doorbell rang.
*
“Hell.” Coop’s cuss punctuated the sudden silence. The two of them separated, startled.
“We could ignore it,” Kylie said almost wistfully.
But then the bell was replaced by a hammering.
Coop looked at her ruefully. “That sounds official.”
It did. She looked down at herself, quickly rearranging her shirt and bra.
“Dang,” he said. “I didn’t even have enough time to give you a beard burn.”
The remark was so unexpected that a giggle escaped her. Desire thrummed hotly inside her, but it was slowly giving way to the demands of the moment.
“I’ll get it,” Coop said. “You look fine.”
Kylie just hoped embarrassment wasn’t written all over her face. She wondered if it was Ashley. School should have let out a little while ago. Or maybe Julie, who’d just recently married that guy Trace Archer. Funny, she remembered that, vaguely remembered going to their wedding. So maybe the last three years weren’t all gone.
But it was Connie Parish, looking as serious as a funeral. “Thanks,” she said in answer to Coop’s offer of coffee. “I could sure use some.”
Adjusting her belt a bit, she sat in the armchair and studied Kylie. “Heard you had a bad time at Maude’s earlier.”
“Did that get all over town?”
“Is there anything that doesn’t?”
Kylie wanted to sink. She’d grown up with local gossip and had gotten used to it. Still, this was something she didn’t want all over the place. Although how she could hide it, she didn’t know. Everyone probably knew what had happened to her and about her memory loss. Why shouldn’t they know she’d become upset in the diner? She was drawing ridiculous lines. “What are folks saying?”
“Only that you looked sick and Coop had to help you to the car. Were you, or was it something else?”
If there was anyone else on this planet who deserved an honest answer to that question, it was Connie. “I had a memory. A useless one, but somehow terrifying. It’s like I slammed back in time.”
Connie nodded, accepting the coffee from Coop with a nod. “I’m sorry. It probably won’t be the last one.”
“So did you just want to check up on me?”
“Partly. One of these days soon I’d love to have a purely social get-together with you and the girls. Ashley sends her best, but she won’t be stopping by today.”
At once Kylie stiffened. She didn’t miss the subtext. “What happened?”
“Despite our best efforts, the creep approached the little Halburn girl. You remember her at all? Red curly hair?”
“I remember the Halburns. They’re not doing so well. The daughter...Katie?”
“That’s her. Anyway, she was nearly home when the guy called out to her. Said he wanted directions and offered her a candy bar. She took off screaming like a bat out of hell.”
“Good for her!” Kylie’s heart had begun to pound. Could it be the same guy who was coming after her? No, it sounded completely different.
“Not much of a description, I’m afraid. Red hair and red beard. Old car dabbed all over with that rust prevention paint, the orangey stuff. Hell, that points to a quarter of the cars in the county.”
“Yeah.” Her heart sank. What had she been hoping for? A miracle? “God, I hope you catch him.”
“Unfortunately, he seems fairly bright.” Connie sighed and sipped her coffee. “This whole town is on high alert, so maybe you can relax a bit. People are starting to look at their neighbors with suspicion. I don’t like it.”
Coop spoke for the first time. “That could be dangerous.”
“Yeah, it could. Especially for strangers. We’re letting it be known that you’ve been deputized but watch your back, anyway, Coop.”
“I’m not leaving Kylie’s side. If we go out, it’s together.”
“You’re alibied, but sometime alibis come too late. Anyway, everyone knows you’re my cousin. It’s not like you came from nowhere. Just keep an eye out.”
“I always do.”
Kylie sat there hating this. Now Coop was at risk from some suspicious local? This was too much. “You should leave town,” she said.
“Are you going with me?”
Sta
rtled, she looked at him, her mouth open.
“I didn’t think so,” he said. “I’m staying right here beside you.”
But there was something in his gaze that made her heart slam hard. “Let me guess,” she said. “Marines don’t run from danger.”
“Nope.”
This, she decided, was a discussion for another time. Connie was looking entirely too amused. “How’s Katie Halburn doing?”
“Scared, but okay. She did the right thing and ran. It didn’t get bad enough to leave a permanent mark. At least I hope it didn’t.” Connie drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair, then lifted her mug again. “Katie is a symptom of something that’s worrying me more.”
“What’s that?” Coop asked.
“Evidently some kids, for whatever reason, are trying to evade the police watchdogs. They know what’s going on, they know we’re watching out for them, but Katie isn’t the first one to escape us. They can slip behind houses, and if no one sees it, they’re off.”
“But why?” Kylie asked. Connie was painting a scary picture. One of those little kids could wind up like her. The horror of it reached her very bones.
“As near as we can figure, some of those kids have family members who’ve had run-ins with the law. Maybe they don’t trust us. Then there are those who are just too smart for their own good. Like this is a game.”
She reached into her breast pocket. “Anyway, I’d like it if you’d put one of these in your front window. We’re asking trustworthy people to do this. It lets the kids know it’s a safe house.”
“And we’re here most of the time,” Kylie said.
“Shoot for mornings before school and after school.” She passed over the sticker.
“I’ll put it up,” Kylie said.
“Should have done something like this years ago,” Connie remarked, rising. “Well, I’m off to hunt for a rusty old car driven by a bearded man. And if you believe that red hair and beard, I’ll sell you a bridge.”