Deja Vu (Titan World Book 0)

Home > Suspense > Deja Vu (Titan World Book 0) > Page 5
Deja Vu (Titan World Book 0) Page 5

by Cristin Harber


  “Yeah, let me get right on that. I don’t talk to them,” she spat back. “It’s not a conversation. This isn’t a ‘kumbaya, let’s figure it out.’ These are orders.”

  “Why?”

  Beth tossed her arms in exasperation. “Do you really think I’ve asked that question?”

  James dropped his head back to look at the sky. He drank in a deep breath then leveled a stare at Beth. “I don’t think you’ve asked it out loud, but I think you’ve asked it to yourself. Whether or not you two knew each other, I don’t care. I don’t care if you were ever friends to begin with. You know this is fucked up. You’re smart enough to know a bad situation when there is one. So if you’re not going to ask the powers that be? Fine. But don’t expect me to help you if she’s on the run.”

  ***

  Beth slammed the silverware drawer and stomped around her kitchen. Using the toe of her high heel, she kicked the dishwasher shut then launched a dishrag into the sink as her husband cleared his throat.

  “Is there something you need to get off your chest?” Roman leaned back in his chair at the kitchen table. “Because you’re gonna wake the baby. And I am not getting blamed for that shit.”

  Beth spun on her heel. “What?”

  “Whoa, pretty girl!” Roman threw his hands up. “I’m innocent. Why ever you’re mad, I didn’t do it.”

  She ground her molars and pinched the bridge of her nose, massaging away tension. “I know you didn’t do it.”

  “Then there’s something wrong.”

  “Gee, you think?” She blew out a deep breath, failing to leave the stress of work far away from home. She rubbed her face, and guilt bubbled for snapping at Roman. Neither one of them wanted to wake the baby. “I just don’t get what is going on.”

  “Can you talk about it?” he asked.

  “Not really. Though we have the sanctity of those marriage vows and the umbrella of Titan to blame if I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.”

  “You kicked the dishwasher over something at Titan?”

  “Not Titan. Though Jared knows what’s up.” Beth bit her lip. She was out of ideas, and right or wrong, she needed Roman’s advice. “My decommissioned asset is gone.”

  “I assume you have Farm boys hunting her down.”

  “You assume correctly. I think she’s getting her memory back.” She chewed her manicured nail.

  Roman rubbed his chin. “Not surprising, right? It’s not like this was a planned injury.” He lifted his eyebrows questioningly.

  She shook her head, agreeing with his sentiment. “No. Accident. And the woman’s career is gone just like that. Please promise me that if something like that ever happens, you won’t do this to me. Because I can see it in her eyes. She’s going nuts trying to figure out who she was. Instinctively, she knows, but everything surrounding her tells her something different.”

  “Sucks.”

  “I’m surprised it took her days to run.”

  Roman nodded his agreement. “I wouldn’t do you like that, babe. No worries. What she saw worth that much of a headache?”

  Beth couldn’t wrap her head around that question. What didn’t they want her to re-learn but wouldn’t eliminate her over? It wasn’t Beth’s place to guess, learn, or figure out. Much safer that way too. If Allie was dirty, she would be dead.

  “I’ll tell you this, though. I’ve never seen a more determined section chief.”

  “They want to know what she knows and who she’s told. Not just now, but before she lost her memory,” Roman said. “That’s your answer, babe.”

  That was the only truth left, wasn’t it?

  ***

  The convenience-store cameras seemed to follow Allie, even though she knew that wasn’t possible. Paranoia was eating her alive. She had to get to a different location—someplace unexpected or off the grid. It had taken her half a day to crisscross through town in a manner that she thought couldn’t be tracked, which legitimately made her feel nutty. But finally, she had arrived in a store that sold prepaid cell phones, and she grabbed one off the shelf. At the counter, the clerk didn’t even look at her, and it was the littlest of reassurances.

  “Will that be all?” he asked.

  “A prepaid debit card too, please.” Allie paid in cash and opened the package before the cashier had returned her change.

  She pocketed the coins and made her way out the door, trying to find somebody’s free Wi-Fi to tap into. It wasn’t an easy task. “Come on.”

  A signal popped in front of a restaurant, and she tapped in. A moment later, Allie had the Uber app downloaded and requested a free trial ride, using a fake name and untraceable profile.

  Allie couldn’t explain exactly where she was going or why she was drawn there, just that she had to get there. Ten minutes later, a red Jeep rolled up, and a man with a big beard rolled down the window. “Hey, am I looking for you?”

  “You are.” She rubbed her hands together, mumbling, “I have no idea what I’m looking for, but we’ll find it together.” She joined him in the Jeep. “Thanks.”

  “Okay, so here we go—”

  “Can I give you someplace different? Same area, I promise.” I think.

  “Well…”

  “It’s important. I’m just looking for someplace that meant something very special to me, but I don’t know the address; I just know where it is.”

  “Look, lady. This is a business, not a free shuttle.”

  “Does your business take fifties?” She reached into her pocket and shuffled through her cash. “Because that is what this is worth to me right now. I think it’s a close drive.”

  The bearded man chuckled. “This free shuttle just became your chariot.”

  “Thank you.” Allie slumped in her seat, taking a breath for the first moment since she had run out the door in search of an ATM. She fired off a few vague directions, and the Jeep took off. She had no idea what she would find at the end of this ride, only that it was the start, and maybe end, of everything. Minutes passed, and maybe relying on instinct and memories wasn’t a great idea— “Stop! Stop, this is it.”

  Allie pushed up against the Jeep window, having no idea where she was. Yet she was certain she should be there. She handed over the fifty-dollar bill to the man and opened her door.

  “Do you want me to wait?” he asked.

  She turned back to him then searched up and down the nice street with the quiet houses and the manicured lawns. The area was well to do, with landscaped mulch beds and the occasional Volvo and Range Rover in the driveway. They were in solid suburbia. This house was so familiar that she felt as though she could walk in. She wouldn’t, but she knew she had before.

  “Please. I don’t know how long I’ll be, but I’ll pay you to wait close by.”

  “Can do—are you expecting somebody?”

  A Range Rover pulled into the driveway, and Allie’s heart drummed faster. Because of the angle and the sun’s glare, she couldn’t tell who was in the driver’s seat, but the anticipation of what was about to happen had her on pins and needles.

  The garage didn’t open, but the driver’s door did. A slightly older but fit man exited and stared at her with a familiar ease. He leaned back against the expensive SUV, crossing his arms as if waiting for an appointment to show. She had not expected his body language to be so relaxed. It was as though he’d known she was already there.

  “Hello.” She silenced the “sir” she almost used to address him.

  “Do you know who I am, Allie?” His eyes were assessing, as though he were running an AB analysis—what he knew of her previously and what he saw of her now. What were his results?

  “I know that you have all of the answers I need.” She took a step forward, trusting him and needing his counsel. Whoever he was to her, this was a safe place. A haven. “You’ve never led me astray before, and I need to trust that you won’t now.”

  His trustworthy gaze broke away, and with just a nod and a glance, the man ordered her into the house. She
obeyed and led the way up the sidewalk. This was business, and that was good. Because everything she’d been told to this point about her business had been a lie, and finally, she had found a lead on her own.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Everything inside this house seemed distantly familiar—the scent, the layout—even how accustomed she was to entering with him. He turned off the alarm and let her in, then tossed his keys into a little jar on a table by the door. It was as though they had a system. She stepped to the side, he would unlock, disarm, and open the door, she would step in, and here they were.

  For the first time since she had been home, everything felt normal. Safe. “Did we used to date?”

  He drew in a slow breath and let it out. “You still don’t remember.”

  “And you know I have no memory, yet this is the first time I’m seeing you. Why is that?”

  He didn’t answer, instead walking past her toward what she knew was the kitchen. His name was on the tip of her tongue, yet she couldn’t call to him. Allie followed and tried to figure out who he was to her. He was attractive. But was she attracted to him? No. She was attracted to James. Her skin lit on fire even now, as she thought about their night together. Yet her heart sank just as much as she remembered how they’d parted. If she never saw him again, it might kill her. Truthfully, what did she know? Lots of things could kill her.

  Did James know this man too? Everybody knew what was going on but her. She slammed a hand against the wall. “Damn it! Why won’t anybody tell me anything?”

  He pivoted with one eyebrow raised. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your fiery temper.”

  But that… that tone of voice. That wasn’t a safe, confidence-inspiring tone. She dropped her hand to her side, opting to keep her attitude in check. “You obviously know I don’t remember who you are. Could you please tell me?”

  “My name is Daniel Yardman. I own several restaurants in the area, and you’ve done a great deal of marketing work for me. For which I am grateful. Thank you for all of your help, and I look forward to everything we’ll do in the—”

  “Bullshit.” Another round of lies. Closer to the truth, but this was still more made-up fabrication, and she was done! The safe zone was gone, and she spun, making her way toward the door. “Never mind.”

  “Allie,” he called to her back. “Allie.”

  “What!” She jerked around. “What do you want? Because I don’t believe you. Because you know me, and I know you, and we both know that you aren’t telling the truth. That this is some elaborate hoax—”

  “If you’re not feeling well, I can get help—”

  “Don’t you dare,” she snapped.

  “You need to stop.” He dropped his voice low. “Let it go. Move on. You have a great life now.”

  Allie rushed forward. Her hand connected with his throat, and her knee jammed toward his groin. He blocked the shot, defending himself. His other hand grabbed her wrist before she could reach a pressure point, and her other arm came for his ear.

  She didn’t know how it was happening, but they went hand to hand. Daniel swung; she ducked. Instinct made her fly at him; training made her ferocious. He defended himself with expert finesse. She was the aggressor, handling herself against his height, his weight, and his expertise as though she were born to do this.

  He bore down, and she went low. “Stop it, goddamn it, Allie.”

  She drew her head back and slammed it forward, smashing her forehead into his face. Instantaneously, stars spun in her head when she made contact with his teeth, and he grunted. That had to have drawn blood.

  Screw with me again! Lie to me again! “Tell me!”

  She shot her knee up to connect with his groin. He grabbed her forearms and slammed her against the wall. She used his hold as a fulcrum point and tucked her knees to her chest then shot out, trying to push him away.

  She had no idea who she was, but hell, she could fight.

  His fist flew. The asshole didn’t hold back, and neither would she. Her right hook jammed under his chin. Daniel dropped forward, and she braced for the head butt, but his lips hit hers, and she froze.

  Both of his hands took her cheeks, and he held her face. It was a panting, adrenaline-filled kiss. An angry one. And when he drew back, her fight was gone.

  “Now, behave!” Daniel paced in front of her as she watched, completely dumbstruck. That was so far past unexpected that she had no reaction. It did not trigger any memories and didn’t turn her on. She had no idea what it did to him, whether he was as angry as his face showed, whether they had a past they couldn’t get over, or whether she couldn’t remember a future they had flirted about.

  Allie wiped her lips with the back of her hand, her body roiling with disgust.

  Daniel stopped pacing. “Allie, we—”

  She put the kiss-wiping hand up as a buffer from whatever he was about to say. Something about his tone rang loudly in her ears, and she just wanted to leave. That had nothing to do with the fight or the kiss. Maybe this was never a sanctuary. “I’m gonna head out now.”

  “You don’t remember anything?” he asked. “No questions, concerns, ideas… nothing?”

  “No,” she lied, awkwardly walking to the front door. His eyes bored into her back as she let herself out. The house of answers left her only more confused than when she had come in.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Don’t run. Don’t run.” The world was closing in on her as Allie pretended to maintain her composure while walking out of Daniel Yardman’s door and situating herself into the backseat of the Jeep. Her chest was tight, and her electrified mind didn’t know which way to go, though it began to spin theories. None of the top contenders were excellent options. What the hell had just happened in there?

  The Uber driver pulled away from the sidewalk, stroking his out-of-control beard as the Jeep groaned under the gas pedal. “Where to now?”

  She had no idea. “Do I look like an undercover cop?”

  “Nope. Where are we going?” he asked, pausing at a stop sign.

  “Hmm.” She had just fought and kissed a man. The fighting thing was impressive, but now her muscles ached. A few bruises were sure to form, though wow... she was badass. “How about we drive around and check out some neighborhoods?”

  “As long as your money spends, we can go wherever you want. Whoever did you wrong, man, I’m sorry about that. He shouldn’t have. You seem like a pretty girl. Dude was a dick.”

  She rubbed a bruise forming on her neck. “I’m not the woman scorned.”

  He chuckled. “We’re not looking for the other woman?”

  “No.” Allie buckled in. “I have amnesia. I’m trying to figure out my life.”

  “Well, fuck me. I feel kinda bad for taking all your money, then.” He turned again. “You point, and I’ll drive. We’ll figure it out.”

  She closed her eyes. Daniel Yardman’s house had been familiar, and she’d found it on instinct. She could feel her way to the next place.

  For the next forty-five minutes, Allie let her instinct guide them, crosshatching down a highway, into neighborhoods that made no sense to her. “Wait!”

  The Jeep slowed in front of a small, nonchalant, single-family home. It was older and, at first glance, needed a face lift. Everything about it was bland. Except she could not look away. This was home. And there was a For Sale sign in the front yard.

  “Give me a minute.” She unbuckled and pushed out of the Jeep. Numbly, she shut the car door and walked up the sidewalk. Her mind rushed. She couldn’t catch one memory, feeling as if her mind were trying to fast-forward through a movie and everything was a blur. But a sense of familiarity descended upon her with the weight of a heavy wool blanket wrapping itself around her. It was both comforting and strangling.

  Because she wasn’t crazy.

  Because everything that she had been told was now confirmed a lie.

  All of her guesses, all of her assumptions… she’d been right.

  But why?
Who was she? The thoughts of what she could be ran through her head. If not an undercover cop, then what? A spy? All of the lies. The fake house. The fake job history. The fake friends. Her fake injuries. Her real injuries—the bumps and bruises, scrapes and scratches that she couldn’t explain—that didn’t match up with what she had been told had happened to her.

  Maybe she’d watched too many action flicks, not romantic comedies, before she lost her memory. Maybe she’d read too many spy novels. Maybe she was a conspiracy theorist? But conspiracy theorists worked alone. And who was Beth? Who was James? Why were there so many people actively lying to her?

  These were not little problems. And the house standing before her versus the house that she’d been told was hers… that was not a small inconsistency. That was a major, financial issue that somebody was paying for. As she stood on the front step of what she knew was her house, Allie ran her hand alongside the front door then looked under the mat for a key. There was a realtor’s lockbox hanging from the doorknob, but she found no spare key for entry. With a quick glance over her shoulder, Allie saw the Uber driver watching her intently. Shit. If she was anywhere near right about what was going on, she had dragged him into something he did not need to be a part of.

  She gave him a quick wave, and he waved back. Then she walked along the familiar side of the house to a back door. Well, hell, she was there now, and she wouldn’t be there for long. What did she have to lose? She pressed her back against the back door and pushed her elbow against the old glass pane. With a quick glance around, she knew that nobody could see her and drew back her elbow, broke the glass pane, then quickly popped her hand in and unlocked the door from the inside. “It’s my place, anyways…”

  She opened the door slowly, relieved that no alarm went off. Not that she could hear. Shit. What if she was a spy?

  Worse, what if she wasn’t? She had just broken into a house and was certifiable! Her heart slammed in her chest.

 

‹ Prev