Memory's Edge: Part One
Page 1
Memory’s Edge
Part One
Also by DelSheree Gladden
The Handbook Series
The Crazy Girl’s Handbook
The Oblivious Girl’s Handbook
(Coming Dec 2016)
Eliza Carlisle Mystery Series
Trouble Magnet
The Catalyst
The Ghost Host Series
The Ghost Host
Escaping Fate Series
Escaping Fate
Soul Stone
Oracle Lost
(Coming Soon)
Twin Souls Saga
Twin Souls
Shaxoa’s Gift
Qaletaqa
The Destroyer Trilogy
Inquest
Secret of Betrayal
Darkening Chaos
Someone Wicked This Way Comes Series
Wicked Hunger
Wicked Power
Wicked Glory
Wicked Revenge
The Aerling Series
Invisible
Intangible
Invincible
The Date Shark Series
Date Shark
Shark Out Of Water
The Only Shark In The Sea
Shark In Troubled Waters
Memory’s Edge
Part One
DelSheree Gladden
Kindle Edition
Memory’s Edge
Part One
Written by DelSheree Gladden
Copyright © DelSheree Gladden 2016
Cover Design DelSheree Gladden
Cover Photography Kassondra Sturtevant, Mystereah Photography
Cover Models: Jacob Brooks and Kimberly Roswell
Published by DelSheree Gladden
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher and/or author.
Printed in the U.S.A.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Acknowledgments
This book has been sitting around on my computer for literally years. It started as just a random project, then a few readers saw it on my website and asked about it, which finally got me motivated to send it out to beta readers and clean it up.
Thank you to my readers for always asking for more and keeping me motivated!
Dedication
For Ryan, the inspiration for all the love stories I write.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Sneak Peek of The Oblivious Girl’s Handbook
Also By DelSheree
About the Author
Chapter One
Red Fingerprints
Gretchen’s body flew forward as her car fishtailed to a stop. Eyes clamped shut, it was impossible for her to tell whether she had stopped in time. She couldn’t bear to open them. What if she hadn’t? Her panicked breathing drew in the smells of exhaust and singed rubber, pushing her to open her eyes and get out of the car. Her racing heart and gasping breaths urged her to stay exactly where she was.
Eventually, Gretchen pried her eyelids open and glanced out the windshield. She couldn’t see anything. Tears burned her eyes worse than the fumes. She had to get out and make sure. Her fingers slipped trying to grasp the door handle, but after a few tries she pushed it open, letting in another blast of the foul air.
The staccato sound of her heels clicking on the asphalt seemed to echo as she walked around to the front of the car. Crisp March air bit at her as she paused before reaching the front end. Her eyes begged her to close them again, fearing what they would see, but she forced them to stay open and search. Failing evening light cast long shadows, but the crumpled mass lying in the road was immediately visible. Gretchen’s breath caught and her fingers wiped away tears.
“Please, no,” she whispered.
The body lay a few feet in front of her car. She stepped closer then looked back at her front bumper. It looked as good as it ever had, which wasn't saying much, but relief swept through her. There was no blood, no new dents. It looked exactly the same.
Gretchen hadn’t hit the crumpled body. She had stopped in time.
Good brakes had kept her from crushing the figure, but the man looked as though he had already been through three or four accidents. The design of the torn up slacks and ruined loafers he wore were the only things that gave any hint it was a man. Every visible inch of skin bore bruises and blood, the swelling so bad in some places, Gretchen wasn’t sure they would ever heal. The shock of nearly hitting him finally began to wear off, freeing her mind enough to take action.
Dropping down next to him, Gretchen pressed two fingers lightly against his neck. It was difficult to find the right spot, but she did feel a ragged pulse under his swollen skin. He was still alive somehow. Her finger came away bloody and left little red fingerprints on the screen of her phone as she dialed 911. Tears fell down her cheeks and mingled with the blood as she waited through two rings.
“911. What is your emergency?” the operator asked.
“I found a body, a person, out on Highway 550. He needs an ambulance,” Gretchen said, her voice still shaking.
“Where are you located ma’am?”
“About half an hour from Bloomfield. I just passed the turnoff to Huerfano a few minutes ago,” she said. “This guy’s in really bad shape. He needs someone fast.”
“Is the man alive?”
“Yes, but I don’t know how long he’ll stay like that. It looks like someone beat him up with a tire iron or something. They just left him lying in the middle of the road. I almost ran him
over,” Gretchen cried. She couldn’t believe she had stopped in time. “Should I try to move him out of the road? Someone’s going to hit us.”
“How heavy is the traffic?” the operator asked.
“I don’t see any other cars right now, but it has been busy on and off. It’s a pretty straight shot for a while. I should be able to see if anyone is coming,” Gretchen said.
“Turn on your vehicle’s hazard lights, so you’ll be seen.”
“Oh, of course,” Gretchen said. She should have thought of that already. Jumping up from the pavement, she leaned into the car and turned the flashing lights on. She pulled the door shut just as a car sped past her. Looking up the road Gretchen saw the headlights of another car. They must have seen her lights because they signaled to cross into the other lane to get around her. Two more sets of headlights followed.
“I think the traffic might be picking up,” Gretchen told the operator.
“Can you move the body without causing further injury?” she asked.
“I…I don’t know.” The man seemed fairly tall and decently built, and he was so banged up already Gretchen was afraid to even touch him. She didn’t want to hurt him worse. Another two cars flew by her. “I can try.”
“Grab the man under his arms and carefully drag him away from the road if you can. If you can’t, keep yourself safe by standing out of the way of traffic. I’ve sent an ambulance and an officer from the sheriff’s department out to your location. They should be there in about fifteen minutes,” the operator said calmly.
Fifteen minutes. Gretchen had no idea how long the poor man had been lying in the road before she found him, but she desperately hoped he could last another fifteen minutes. He was a stranger to her. That didn’t make the idea of him dying any easier to take. Gretchen would definitely feel responsible.
“Ma’am. Ma’am? Are you still on the line?”
Gretchen hadn’t realized the operator was still talking.
“Yes, I’m still here,” she said.
“Did you try to move the body?”
“Um, not yet.” Was that really a good idea? What was her other option, standing back and hoping he didn’t get run over? Another blaring horn and flash of wind from a speeding car helped her decide.
Setting her phone down, Gretchen slipped her hand under his arms and gently lifted his shoulders off the asphalt. She waited for some sign that she was hurting him, but his swollen face didn’t even react. Hoping he was really, really unconscious at the moment, Gretchen dragged him backward until his feet hit dirt. She laid him down as carefully as possible then ran to move her car off the road.
The 911 operator kept talking to Gretchen as she waited. She asked her questions about the man’s condition every few minutes. Gretchen described his injuries and looked around for any sign of his car, keys, wallet, anything that might belong to him, but found nothing. She suspected the operator was just trying to keep her from freaking out, but she was glad for the distraction. Every time she looked at the unmoving body, she wanted to sit down and cry.
When Gretchen finally saw the flashing red and blue lights of the ambulance, the sun was nearly set, painting the desert a fiery orange. The paramedics pulled off the road just ahead of her car. Two sheriff’s patrol cars pulled up as well and put out reflective cones to divert traffic. The first paramedic to reach her asked her to move back, then began examining the man. Before the second paramedic moved to help his partner, he asked Gretchen a few questions.
She couldn’t answer any of them, unfortunately. No, she didn’t know his name, or what happened, or how he ended up in the middle of the road, or whether he was allergic to anything. She kept shaking her head as she watched them work. It went exactly the same way with the sheriff’s deputy. They asked all the same questions, plus a few more, but Gretchen didn’t have anything to tell them.
The deputy flipped his notepad closed and tucked it away as the paramedics loaded the man into the back of the ambulance.
“Wait!” Gretchen rushed over the paramedic who had spoken to her. “Is he going to be okay? Where are you taking him?”
“We’re taking him to San Juan Regional Medical Center. As to whether he’s going to be okay, or not…” He glanced over at the man on the gurney. “Well, he’s stable for now, but there’s no telling just how badly he’s injured yet. The doctors at the hospital will have a better idea. He’s got some broken bones for sure, but there may be internal injuries as well.”
“Can I follow you guys to the hospital? I want to make sure he’s okay,” Gretchen said.
“Sure,” the paramedic said, “Just ask for John Doe when you get there. Looks like you’ll be the only one looking for him.”
Chapter Two
Simple
Sunday night wasn’t the busiest night of the week at the hospital. That seemed unusual, but Gretchen didn’t dwell on it. She sat waiting in the Emergency Room lobby with only two other people, a guy with a broken pinky and woman holding a sick baby. Nurses and doctors zipped up and down the halls as they went back and forth between patients. Every time she saw one, she sat forward in anticipation. She’d already been there for two hours with no updates.
Gretchen had been on her way home from an education seminar in Albuquerque. Long and tiring, the seminar had drug on all day. Getting home and flopping onto the couch to catch up on her favorite shows had been her motivation for making it through the day. So much for that plan. Now she only wanted to know what was happening. Her head slipped into her hands as she wondered whether she would even make it home before the sun came up.
“Miss Gesner?”
Gretchen’s head popped up immediately. “Yes? How is he?”
The doctor’s feet opened up and his hands folded across his chest. He looked as though he were settling in. Expression empty, he gave no hint of what he was about to say. Gretchen’s chest seized up in panic. Was the man dead?
“You’re not family. I’m not technically at liberty to discuss his case with you.”
“Please, I just want to know if he’s going to be all right. Besides, you don’t have any idea who he is. He may not have any family.”
The doctor sighed and rubbed his head. “Fine, fine. He’s in pretty bad shape, but we’ve done all we can for now. He’s still in critical condition, but we have him stabilized for the time being and are moving him to another floor for observation and continued care,” the doctor said.
“How bad was it?” she asked.
“He has a crushed ankle, a tibia broken in several places, and three broken ribs. One of the broken ribs very nearly punctured a lung. He was lucky there, at least. Bruising and swelling over about eighty percent of his body. A concussion. Thirty-seven stitches between the lacerations on his head, arms, and leg, and he has a cracked radius,” he said. “That’s the forearm.” His condescending tone made her want to grab the clipboard out of his hand and hit him with it.
She nodded irritably instead. Gretchen knew where the radius was. She taught biology at one of the local high schools. In fact, she had to be back to work the next day at seven-thirty in the morning. The doctor didn’t know any of that, though. He didn’t know anything about her. Taking in a deep breath, she pushed her annoyance away. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Most of his injuries should heal eventually,” the doctor said, pausing, still looking more tired than concerned, “but the main problem is that he still isn’t reacting to stimuli.”
“He’s in a coma?” The poor man. If he didn’t wake up, how would anyone ever find out who he was? What if someone was looking for him? They would never know what had happened to him. “Is he going to wake up?” she asked.
“There’s no way of knowing for sure. He may remain in a coma for the rest of his life, or he may wake up tomorrow,” the doctor said with a weary shrug. “He took some severe trauma to his head and there does appear to be some damage, but it’s hard to know the extent yet. We’re monitoring his brain activity for the time being. The scans
are showing some activity, but there’s no way of knowing when or if he’ll wake up.”
The doctor glanced over his shoulder as a nurse walked down the hall toward him. She whispered something to him before turning back the way she had come. “I need to go, but if you have any more questions, talk to one of the nurses. If no one else is available, you can ask for me, though I’m the only doctor on staff tonight so I can’t guarantee I’ll get back to you very quickly. I’m Dr. Kent, in case you need to find me.”
He made a quick nod and started away from Gretchen. If she had any more questions? Of course she had more questions. She had nothing but questions. Marching over to the reception desk, Gretchen asked the one question she needed answered most.
“Can I see the John Doe the paramedics brought in a few hours ago?”
Glancing at her computer, the receptionist read something on the screen before shaking her head. “I’m sorry. It looks like Dr. Kent hasn’t cleared him for visitors. He’s being moved to the ICU. Only family members are allowed in his room.”
“But, I’m the one who found him. He doesn’t have any family here.”
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do until he’s moved out of ICU.”
“Thank you,” Gretchen said dismally. She wasn’t ready to go home yet. Empty chairs waited to greet her again but, before she could claim one, a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She looked at the scrubs-clad woman in surprise.
“You found John Doe?” she asked. Gretchen nodded and the nurse began towing her down the hall. “Dr. Kent isn’t the most compassionate guy in the world, but he’s lax on visitation. Stay out of the way, and no one will mind if you’re in his room. Poor man’s been through enough without having to wake up alone in strange place.”
“Thank you.” Relief flooded the antiseptic halls as they rushed through them. After an elevator ride, and what felt like miles of walking, the nurse stopped in front of a darkened room. She peeked through the door to make sure it was empty of staff before ushering Gretchen inside.