Finding Cade (Dream Catcher Series Book 1)

by Bernice Layton

  If that wasn’t nerve-racking enough, she’d also spent quite a bit of time on the Internet reading about amnesia resulting from trauma, at the same time wondering why she was wasting time doing it. The man most likely was in limbo because of how he’d died. “This was silly,” she murmured despite an odd tugging to her heart at that thought.

  Truly tired now, her head was beginning to hurt, so she closed her eyes, hoping to take a much-needed nap.

  How can I help somebody when I can’t help myself?

  That was her last thought as sleep finally claimed her.

  ***

  Valerie

  Walking slowly through a wide hallway with only a dim light guiding her, Valerie focused on the hallway itself. There was nothing distinctive about it. Soft carpet kept her footsteps silent, and she glanced at the beautiful wallpaper of stripped hues of soft brown, gold, and pale grey covering the walls. She spotted an open door to her right and walked into a room.

  It was a man’s room with masculine things on the dresser—a hairbrush, a bottle of aftershave, a set of cufflinks. Leaning over, she sniffed the unopened bottle of aftershave. It was pleasant and crisp and reminded her of the handsome man’s scent. Could these be his things?

  He wasn’t physically there, but his aura was all around her, warming her like her chenille throw blanket.

  Walking around the room admiring the décor and furnishing, her eyes slid to a picture on a table. It must be a family picture of an attractive couple and possibly their three young children. All the children had the same dazzling smiles and incredibly expressive eyes. It could’ve been her mystery man, perhaps when he was high school age. He looked relaxed, carefree, and charming.

  When she sat the picture back down, she gasped in surprise when a strong right arm came from behind and slid around her waist. He’d been standing behind her, watching her the entire time she’d been snooping around his possessions.

  “I’ve been waiting for you.” He turned her around in his arms.

  He was solid and warm, no longer a transparent image as he had been in her past two encounters. Her eyes glided over him, dressed in cut-off denim shorts and a logo t-shirt.

  “How did you know I’d come?” she asked. He continued to hold her in a loose embrace, and his aftershave wafted up her nose. It was as sexy as he was, and yes, it was the same scent from the bottle on the dresser.

  “I didn’t know. But I’ve been here waiting and hoping to see you again,” he said quietly before leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

  When he began to move leisurely as if he had all the time in the world, Valerie closed her eyes briefly, thinking how much she enjoyed his familiarity with her. When he led her across the room, she went along, realizing he was leading them into a slow dance.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Dancing,” he whispered. “I like this song.”

  Valerie was positive he was a player…or he had been. His suave moves and seductive smile were proof of that. “But there’s no music. Do you hear music?”

  He tilted his head up briefly. “Yes. I hear music all the time. Don’t you hear it?”

  “No.” Valerie moved along with his slow steps.

  “Then I’ll sing it for you.”

  He intrigued her, and when he began to sing a love song, she recognized it. She noticed the timbre of his voice was stronger and deeper then she’d heard it before.

  Then he kissed her slowly and passionately, and not wanting him to disappear again, she went along with the full, lip-on-lip kiss. So, okay, she told herself that this episode was more different and more powerful than any psychic encounter she’d ever experienced.

  Easing out of his arms, she let her hands trail down his muscular chest and lifted her eyes to his face. He grimaced with pain etched upon his features.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Will you be honest with me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think I’m dead. Can you tell me if I’m dead?”

  “You’re not dead. I told you that before.” She wanted to believe what she said was true.

  “I don’t remember.” He moved away. “Do you think I’m an angel or something?”

  Valerie couldn’t hold back a giggle. “I doubt you’re an angel. A devilish player is more likely.” She needed to say something to ease his mind. “Hey, I like this room. Where is it?”

  He turned, and his face brightened. “Don’t know, but I like it too.”

  “I keep seeing you in different places. Do you seek me out?”

  “I don’t know. I feel like I’m dreaming and can’t wake up. I want to wake because I have so much to do,” he said.

  “You’ve asked me to help you, but I don’t know you, so let’s start by talking so I can see if I can help you, okay?”

  He nodded and guided her by the arm until they reached another room.

  Valerie studied the new area. It was a beautiful and masculine living room. They sat side by side on a leather sofa.

  “I’ll ask you some questions and you answer with the first thing that pops into your head. Don’t think about the questions or ponder the answers, just say what pops in there,” she said, pointing to his head and recalling a test she’d read about on the internet. “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Blue.”

  “How tall are you?”

  “Six feet, I would guess.”

  “What’s your favorite food?”

  “I like thick, juicy cheeseburgers,” he said, grinning.

  “When was the last time you had one?”

  He opened his mouth to speak but shook his head. He didn’t know.

  “Show me your hands.” When he complied, he did so by inching closer to her and laying his hands, palms down, on her thighs. Turning them over, Valerie ignored his mischievous, twinkling gaze and rolled her eyes in exasperation. She examined his hands, commenting that he had strong hands.

  “What’s your name again?”

  “Valerie.”

  “Tell me, Valerie, do you like strong hands?” He curled his fingers around hers.

  “Yes, I do. But this is about you. You have the hands of a worker, but they’re not scarred or calloused, and there’s no impression of a ring. There’s a family photo in the other room. Do you have a wife?”

  “I-I don’t know, but I feel I’m connected to a lot of people. I hear them talking sometimes. I don’t always understand what they’re saying, and sometimes I hear music, then there’s a buzzing and a damn irritating beeping.”

  “Are you in pain?” She watched him struggling to answer. “What’s your name?”

  “I-I don’t know.” He was quiet for a few seconds. “I hear people call out to me.”

  “Okay, good. What do they call you?”

  “I think it could be JD.”

  Valerie met his questioning eyes and guessed he was looking for her confirmation if that was correct. “JD, huh? Well, it fits you,” she said, smiling when he did.

  “So, JD, who would want to kill you?” she asked suddenly, meaning to catch him off guard. Then she wished she hadn’t.

  He shot up from the couch and stumbled across the room to a mirror. After several seconds, he ripped off his t-shirt. He stared at the scars marring his chest. Turning sideways to the mirror, he angled his head to see scars on his back as well. “H-how did this happen to me?” He touched the scars on his chest.

  Valerie rushed over and stood beside him. When she glanced at his reflection in the mirror, her hand flew up to cover her mouth to swallow the scream that threatened to erupt from her throat.

  Tears sprang in her eyes, and she nearly cringed in horror as her legs nearly buckled beneath her. The image she saw in the mirror wasn’t healing scars as she’d seen from across the room; what she saw up close in his reflection was the damage caused by a large-caliber bullet blasting a hole through his back and chest, mere inches from his heart. In vivid detail, she saw his heart pumping blood, spurting it down onto his chest and stoma
ch and dripping onto his shoes. The jagged skin surrounding the gaping hole was raw with bits of bone and tissue exposed. The damage to his internal organs and the resulting waves of excruciating pain she felt were indescribable. Swallowing back nausea that threatened to overtake her, Valerie couldn’t hide the shock and revulsion on her face. She felt as if she was covered in his fluids, and the thick acrid smell of smoke and the clogging, sickeningly sweet odor of blood, clung to her like a heavy, sticky cloak.

  Unable to pull her eyes away from the horror in the mirror, she realized she was experiencing what had happened to him that night on that stretch of road. She felt as if she’d slid inside his body seconds after he’d been shot. She was struggling to breathe as blood filled her lungs and began spilling onto the dusty road like fat, red raindrops as they plopped to the ground. The sight was too much to bear, so she had to forcibly push herself away from the horrific sight in the mirror. When she turned and met his tortured, pain-filled eyes, there was little she could do to mask her revulsion. He saw it on her face and turned and ran into the mist. But what Valerie saw was the bloody trail he was leaving along the road.

  Now she saw it…felt it…as JD had lived through it. The hair rose on the back of her neck, and goosebumps pricked her arms and legs, making her skin feel tight and itchy. She now realized that she had walked on the road where he’d been shot, and the black as tar blotches she’d seen on the ground and on the railing were what she had suspected then—dried drops of blood.

  His blood!

  Her heart ached for him. She understood that despite his injuries, he had been determined to reach someone for help, and somehow, he’d made a connection with her. The reality of what he had suffered was both terrifying and motivating.

  Her aunt had tried to tell her about a situation like this. Aunt Ruby had warned her not to become actively incorporated into a vision. She suspected the power of the crystal enhanced the intensity of her encounters with him. For the first time, she wasn’t just a bystander, watching and lurking about. No. She was a full participant in this…

  Lord, what is this?

  Was she a witness to a murder or attempted murder? Thinking this was a simple vision was no longer a possibility. This was something else entirely. As she stood paralyzed and unable to erase what she had just seen, he returned but out of sight of the mirror. He glanced down at her as if knowing what had transpired between them. His eyes filled with agony, and his thick eyelashes were wet with tears as he pulled on another t-shirt.

  “You saw it, didn’t you? Tell me, Valerie, who could sustain an injury as horrible as this and survive? I’m dead, aren’t I?” Turning her to face him, his dark eyes searched hers for answers. “You don’t have to lie to me, so don’t, all right?”

  Anger and frustration were in his voice, and it was enough to clear her head. Not knowing what else to do, she reached out and pinched his forearm, hard. He yelped in pain.

  “Hey, why’d you do that?”

  “You felt that didn’t you, JD?” He nodded.

  She pinched him again and again until he yanked his arm away. She put her hands on his face, tilting his head down so they were eye to eye. “JD, you don’t feel dead to me, and I don’t talk to dead people, especially not like this.”

  “What the fuck is happening to me?”

  “We’ll figure that out, but I don’t think someone in your condition should be using such language,” she replied, trying to refocus his attention on something else besides his wounds, scars, and his pain. “You’ve been hurt, we can see that…”

  “No,” he ground out. “I’ve been shot, damn it.”

  “Yes, it would appear so, but I think you may have amnesia, or you could be unconscious. How else would you be able to talk to me? I mean, I’m no expert or even close, but maybe you’re somewhere recovering from your injury,” she said.

  “Well, duh, if I’m not dead.”

  Valerie laughed out loud, then cringed when she heard herself snort.

  He simply stared at her, perplexed, with his hands thrust into the pockets of his cut-off denim shorts, and the look on his face sent her into another spasm of giggles. Suddenly, his eyes turned serious, and he closed the distance between them. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her, long and hard, effectively putting a stop to her snickering.

  His lips were soft, warm, and demanding. For a moment, she paused, knowing she should stop him. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but her instincts let her go with it. Returning his kiss, she lost all semblance of common sense, then found herself holding onto him.

  In the back of her mind was the possibility that what was happening was simply her imagination running overtime.

  The intensity of the kiss was making her knees weak, and when she tried to pull away from him, her fingers grazed the area of his chest wound. She again experienced a dull ache, mingled with sadness, loneliness, and fear. But it was enough to immediately bring her back to reality or whatever was real now.

  To separate herself from all those overwhelming emotions, she pushed away from his arms and stepped back. “I-I have to go, JD.” She dared not look into his eyes for fear she wouldn’t have the strength to leave. She let her fingers slip through his.

  “No, please don’t go.” He called out her name as she continued to back away, but he caught her right hand seconds before she turned and ran into the mist that had returned and swirled around her legs. His voice echoed behind her. “Valerie!”

  Before escaping into a foggy mist, she turned back around in time to see him coming after her and had to blink away a rush of hot tears blurring her vision. She dared not stop. She couldn’t let him catch her…she had to find a way out. His strangled cry of her name was more than she could take.

  ***

  Cade

  He tried to catch her, but she disappeared into the fog, and he feared he’d never see her again. He’d begun to think of her as his lifeline. She was his only hope, and now she was gone, unlike the pain and the burning in his chest, which returned with a vengeance.

  “No, Valerie,” he croaked, reaching out blindly in the fog and groaning in pain. “Don’t go. I need you. Please don’t leave.” he cried out in earnest. The fog was gone…and so was she.

  “Valerie!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Nurse Nancy

  Nurse Nancy and the two orderlies walked into the room of John Doe No. 6 and began their routine of caring for the patient. As usual, the radio played in the background.

  Nurse Nancy noticed a slight rise in his blood pressure and heart rate. Not alarmed about it, she just hoped he wasn’t having another one of those dreams again. The staff at the sanitarium still hadn’t let the last episode die down.

  In a flash, John Doe No. 6 reached out and grabbed the sleeve of her scrub.

  “Valerie,” he croaked.

  After their initial surprise and shock wore off, Nurse Nancy motioned to the orderlies to step out and call for the doctor. Remaining calm, she patted the hand that had a death grip on her sleeve.

  “Well, hello there,” she said, gazing down into the patient’s eyes. She knew he must be frightened. She continued to speak softly.

  “It’s all right now. You’re doing just fine. Relax. You’re safe, and we’re here to help you.” She noticed he was beginning to relax. She quickly assessed him. “If you can you hear me and understand my words, blink your eyes, just once.”

  When he did that, Nancy had to contain herself from shouting out in joy and relief that a second patient had awakened from a coma within the past two weeks.

  When he worked his mouth to try to speak again, she simply held onto his hand and again reassured him that he was doing just fine.

  When he relaxed further, she dimmed the fluorescent light above his bed, noticing that his eyes followed her movements. She smiled. “My prayers have been answered because you are awake, young man. Good for you.”

  ***

  JD aka Cade

  His vision was blurry, and his
throat was sore and scratchy, but that was nothing compared to the horrendous pain radiating throughout his chest, back, and arms. His entire body ached, and he’d thought he must have had one hell of an accident. He attempted to speak to the woman with a kind face and pleasant voice, a nurse he believed, but no sound came forth.

  Then, all at once he was surrounded by people talking, asking questions, and barking orders and all the while poking, prodding, and pricking his skin with sharp objects. The lights they kept shining in his eyes and on his face were blinding, and the persistent beeping and buzzing noises were irritating, but through all of that, he managed to tune it out to listen to the music playing somewhere nearby.

  It was a song he thought he’d heard before, perhaps danced to with a woman. He felt himself disconnecting from the chaos going on around him to focus on the beautiful woman he visualized dancing in his arms to the same ballad playing softly in the background.

  ***

  Dante

  Dante and his wife, Elaine, invited the family over to their house for Sunday dinner. His father reflected on the sermon their pastor had delivered during the church service. He’d reminded the congregation to keep the faith.

  Yes, they would all do that. Not keeping faith meant giving up on Cade, and they were all stronger than that. Still, it was hard enough to have conversations with his family without someone bursting in tears. Like his father and brother, Dante believed they also saved their tears for the privacy of the bathroom or the car. For himself, it was the bathroom, and Elaine always managed to catch him.

  Dante watched a sullen Theo. At twenty-three years old, he wasn’t so tough. He’d thought giving Theo all of Cade’s assignments and basically keeping him busy and focused would keep him out of trouble. Sadly, that hadn’t worked out. Theo had become argumentative and defensive with business owners if they disagreed or complained about his work. Dante had no problem chewing him out for being rude or for doing a half-assed job.