by Tanya Stowe
He pulled the horse to an abrupt halt. “How can you say that so confidently? Did you remember something?”
She shook her head. “No, it just doesn’t...feel right.”
The horses shifted between them, sensing their tension and nervous about the oncoming storm.
“Feelings.” Dylan’s tone was more dismissive than he’d intended.
“Don’t say it like that. Like my feelings have no meaning.”
“I’m not belittling your emotions.”
“You better not be. Your whole life is built around a feeling of guilt over Beth’s death.”
Shock waves surged over Dylan. He stared at Joss for a long while, not quite believing the words that had come out of her mouth. “My life is not about guilt. It’s about stopping men who need to be stopped.”
She made a small dismissive sound and shook her head. “That’s what you tell yourself. But believe me, if I had all of this...” She gestured around to the land. “If this were mine, I’d find a way to fight crime and stay where I belonged. Admit it, Dylan, the reason you have no joy, no life, is because subconsciously you think you don’t deserve it. You think it’s your fault Beth died.”
Anger flamed through Dylan and he retaliated. “And you feel guilty because you knew Jason was a gang member.”
She shook her head, blindly, angrily, but Dylan didn’t back down. “You knew he had something to do with those tunnels, but you didn’t report him. That’s why you don’t want to remember.”
“No! I didn’t know! I’m sure of it. He kept it from me, always tried to protect me. But I know he never would have been involved with the gang if he didn’t leave school to take care of me! It’s all because of me!”
Her tone of assurance shocked both of them, and there was a moment of stunned silence.
Thunder cracked over their heads and the clouds split open. Goldie jumped and shied away. Patches skittered to the side. Joss fumbled with the reins and Dylan feared Goldie would bolt. Joss feared storms. She might panic too. But just when he thought the horse might break, she leaned on Goldie’s neck, laid her cheek flat on his shivering coat and wrapped her arms around him, holding on for life. The gesture seemed to settle the horse. He shivered once, then stood stock-still as Joss held on, comforting him and herself with nearness.
Dylan brought Patches closer. The rain, coming down like buckets of water, had already soaked Joss’s hair. The long ponytail was plastered to her T-shirt. Was that rain on her cheeks...or tears? Probably both. But the sight of her clinging to the animal brought an unwanted wave of tenderness over him.
He never meant to make her cry. He brought her here to help her heal, not to cause her more pain.
Water poured down his face and dripped off the tip of his nose, blurring the image in front of him. Soaked and weary from his own seesawing emotions, he kicked Patches into motion. Reaching across, he gave Goldie’s reins a tug. “Come on. Let’s get out of the rain.”
They left the riverbank and crossed the field. All the while Dylan’s conscience ate at him. Was Joss right? In his heart of hearts, did he feel he had no right to a life of happiness?
No. He had a God-given mission to stop drug traffic wherever he could. His successes, which far exceeded his failures, assured him that he was on the right path. The feelings and ideas Joss brought to life inside him were distractions. His job was to focus, to clear away the debris and emotions blocking the return of her memory. That was all.
The rain pelted them so hard, it felt like little needles. Joss sagged on her horse like a woman in pain. Dylan made an angry sound, disgusted with himself for allowing the distraction of a ride to get in the way of Joss’s recovery. If she suffered a setback...
Finally the wide-open doors of the barn appeared. Dylan led the way inside. The cool, dark interior raised goose bumps on his wet skin. Joss would probably feel the chill more.
He tied off Patches and looked to her. Joss hadn’t moved. She sat slumped on Goldie, staring off into the distance...trembling. The storm and his harsh words, true or not, had gotten to her.
He secured Goldie’s reins, then reached for Joss. She tumbled into his arms, trusting completely that he could carry her weight. That trust tore a layer of his resistance somewhere inside him.
Did he deserve that trust when his main objective was to solve his case regardless of how the outcome affected Joss? Suddenly his determination seemed like a betrayal. Didn’t she deserve more? Wasn’t she worth it?
Her arms looped around his neck as his hands held her waist rock steady and close to his body. Her chin tilted up and she looked at him with eyes completely honest and open.
His resolve crumbled. Joss was more than a distraction. She was a dream he could never have. But didn’t he deserve one sweet kiss to remember? One stolen moment to carry him through the rest of his life?
He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
SEVEN
Joss’s lips tingled where Dylan’s touched hers. It was an incredible sensation that made her head spin. But his warm, strong hands around her waist kept her anchored. Grounded. Real. His lips parted slightly and he tilted his head, kissing her breathless.
Real and safe. Needed and never alone. His kiss created wonderful emotions inside her. Amazing feelings that she’d wanted from the moment his deep, safe voice had rumbled into the darkness of her coma. She’d wanted him from that first second...maybe even longer. His kiss answered a need inside her that stretched further back than her accident. Maybe from forever.
A sense of belonging...of togetherness.
He’d said they were just friends before, but he meant more to her. Somehow she felt that truth. He might not feel the same, but Joss knew in her heart of hearts that Dylan had been special to her long before now. She’d wanted more, needed this even before the accident. Being in his arms, their lips together, answered a deep, deep need. She knew it as surely as she felt his strong hands, holding her steady and close.
Thunder clapped over their heads and Goldie shuffled, bumping against them. Dylan broke the kiss but held her close, staring into her eyes. “I need to take care of these horses.”
She nodded, not willing for the moment to end. But a cool breeze swept into the barn and she shivered. Dylan held her in place and stepped back, a whole space away. “You should go in and take a hot shower. We don’t need for you to get sick after we’ve worked so hard to get you well.”
She nodded again, not speaking, hoping to hang on to the wonderful feelings flowing through her. But shivers tripped over her and she knew Dylan was right. She needed to get warm.
Inside, she went straight to the shower. Wrapped in warm sweats and socks, she combed out her hair and her stomach rumbled. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten. She hurried into the living room, with her tummy grumbling all the way.
Dylan sat at the table, in front of the big picture window. Behind him, rain slid down the dining room glass in sheets. Thunder boomed outside. The clean, fresh scent of rain and green things flowed through the screen door with the breeze. For the first time in...forever, the sound of a storm didn’t make her uncomfortable. She liked it...here.
Dylan had showered too. He wore a clean white T-shirt and jeans. She might not have known it before, might not have worked hard to accomplish this goal, but this good man seated at the kitchen table was what she wanted. What she suspected she’d secretly yearned for all of her life. To belong to someone. To know he belonged to her forever. It touched a need so overwhelming, it was all she could do not to run across the room, wrap her arms around him and kiss him again.
She suspected he would not appreciate the gesture, so she stood where she was, capturing the sight of him, the smell of the rain...even the thunder. She wanted to remember it long after it was over.
Dylan seemed to sense her presence. He looked up and shifted uncomfortably. “Would you like something t
o eat?”
The moment broken, Joss said, “I’d love it.”
“Hank’s wife sent over her specialty...meatloaf with Hatch chilies. Sit and I’ll heat some up for you. I had a plate while you were in the shower. I also checked in on Henderson. He’s doing well.” He paused. “When you’re finished, we need to talk about what you remember.”
She finished the delicious meatloaf quickly, then pushed her plate away. Leaning forward, with her chin on the heel of her hand, she stared at Dylan as he worked on the files spread out in front of him.
After a long while he said, “You need to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you want me to kiss you again.”
“I do.”
He sighed. “Joss...”
“Don’t, Dylan. You don’t need to say another word. I know there can never be anything between us. You have your work, more of a mission than work. And I...” She had her guilt over Jason.
She licked her dry lips. “What I said out there in the storm was true. I remembered my feelings about Jason, and this time there was a memory to go with it.”
“What memory?”
“I was sitting outside my brother’s apartment, feeling as if it was all my fault. I didn’t know he’d left town, but I suspected he was involved with the gang. I felt responsible because he’d given up the career he loved to take care of me.”
Dylan’s features tightened. Because he didn’t believe her, or because what she’d said outside was too close to the truth about his own motives?
She couldn’t tell. He’d made himself unreadable...drawn a line in the sand and refused to let her cross over. He wouldn’t share himself or allow her to shelter in the peace of his safety anymore. That was over.
She was alone...again. Pain filled her so intensely, it clutched at her chest. She closed her eyes and waited for the emptiness to wash over her.
But it didn’t come. Not this time.
Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.
She wasn’t alone. Dylan hadn’t betrayed her. She’d betrayed herself, fallen into an old trap by trying to place a man, a human, in the place created for God. Only He could fill that hole. Only He could satisfy a soul thirsting with a need so great that it would overwhelm any mortal human.
It was unfair to expect anyone else to take that place. People would fail. They would die like her parents or make mistakes like her brother and Dylan, but God would never fail her.
After pulling a clean piece of paper from Dylan’s pile, she grabbed a pencil and wrote the scripture down.
“What’s this?” Dylan pulled it toward him.
“A scripture I remember.”
He froze. “You remember a scripture?”
“It came to me after the gang destroyed my apartment. It keeps coming back to me. It’s given me strength.”
He read it out loud, then pushed the paper to her. “By all means, keep reading it. Maybe it will stir other memories.”
She closed her eyes and whispered the words again. Amazingly, another image appeared. Blurry at first. Shrouded in the gray mist of her memory loss. But she was sure it was real; she felt, heard and tasted it. Her hands were tied. But a voice came loud and clear. A man’s voice. He demanded she open her eyes.
The man slapped her. She tasted blood in her mouth and finally was able to open her eyes and look at him. He stared at her. Slicked hair. Man-bun.
Vibora.
“I want you awake,” he said. “I want you to feel every second as the clock ticks...”
She gasped and her eyes flew open.
Dylan dropped his pen. “It worked?”
Silent, startled and filled with wonder, she stared at him.
Dylan’s breath caught. “You remembered something important.”
Joss nodded slowly. “Vibora, in my face, screaming at me. Demanding I tell him where Jason and Maria had gone.”
Dylan inhaled, slow and steady. A half smile slipped over his lips. Was it because he was as relieved as she was? She couldn’t tell. The wall he’d built between them was thick, like the gray mist of her memory loss.
“You remember Vibora questioning you, trying to find out where your brother and Maria were hiding.”
She gave a quick nod of her head. Clarity nipped at the edges of her mind and gave her disjointed images. And sensations—pain, fear, the smell of something dank and dirty. She closed her eyes, hoping memories would connect with the sensations. She gasped when an image appeared.
“It was dark. We were in the tunnel. Caulder was there too. And that other man...the one you call Snake Man. Vibora was in my face, striking me. He told me to wake up. He wanted me to know what was happening, so I’d suffer every minute until the explosion.”
Excitement lifted his features. “So they kidnapped you? You can testify to that?”
“Absolutely. But I don’t know how I ended up in the tunnel.”
“Dr. Hull said it’s normal. Victims of accidents often forget the moments leading up to it or the event itself. That’s the brain’s way of forgetting and allowing itself to heal.”
“I remember driving on the highway and pulling into a parking lot of a large building. I think it was the abandoned storage place our team had under surveillance. After that I don’t remember anything until waking up in the tunnel. But they were holding me against my will. I know that. That’s clear in my mind.”
“This is the break I’ve been hoping for, Joss. Now that we know you were kidnapped, we can charge Vibora and Caulder. We have them, Joss!” He reached for her, as if he were going to pull her into his arms. At the last minute he pulled back, but not before Joss saw the look in his eyes.
He could deny it but he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Unfortunately his determination, the guilt that drove him, was stronger than both of them.
His features hardened and he shifted in his chair. “Do you remember anything else? Any other gang members?”
“Show me the pictures again.”
She studied them for a while and picked out three more. “I was sitting outside of Jason’s apartment. He must have left town already but I didn’t know it. I was worried sick and hoping he’d show up any minute. Then three men walked out.” She pointed. “These three. I’m pretty sure I followed them.”
“Where did they go? Do you recognize any places? Maybe we can piece together a possible location.”
She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “A freeway. I remember a sign... Nogales! I was on the road to Nogales.”
Dylan frowned. “Were they leading you to the safe house or the tunnel?”
Joss shook her head. “I don’t know. The last thing I remember before waking up in the tunnel is that freeway sign.”
“Why didn’t you call for backup?”
“I’m not sure. I think... I don’t know.” She shook her head again. “I don’t know my reasoning, just the feeling that I needed to protect my brother.”
“From us or the gang?”
“I don’t remember. Maybe both.”
Dylan studied her. “You remember the car you followed?”
“Yes. The Toyota truck you described.” She frowned. “But the pieces don’t fit together. If they kidnapped me, why did they try to kill me before I revealed Jason’s location?”
“You were pretty beat up, Joss. I think they worked you over and found out you didn’t know anything.”
“If they know that, what was the point of trying to frame me with the heroin, and why are they still trying to kill me?”
Dylan’s lips thinned. “Maybe to throw us off and stall for time.”
“Stall for time? Why?”
Dylan’s features were grim. “To give Jason time to find out they had you. We’ve seen how Vibora works. He’s a vicious killer. He’s also overc
onfident. He thinks he’ll get your brother eventually, and he takes pleasure in frightening his victims. Your death might have been meant as a warning. To let your brother and Maria know he’s coming after them and it won’t be pretty when he finds them.”
She stared at Dylan. “We can’t let them fall into his hands.”
Reaching across the space, he ran a finger along her cheek. “Right now your brother is in hiding. We can’t let Vibora get his hands on you or Lena Jones.”
She gripped his hand. “You’re worried about the transfer in the morning.”
“Vibora has known every move we’ve made so far. I’m sure they’ll be waiting for us.”
“What can you do?”
He was silent for a long moment. “We need to move Lena’s transfer up. Now. Tonight. They won’t be expecting it.”
She agreed with a firm nod. “You need to go, Dylan.”
“I can’t leave you alone.”
“Call Holmquist. I trust him completely.”
He agreed. “I’ll do it right now and get the ball rolling.”
She listened to his one-sided conversation as he filled Holmquist in on all that had happened. Then he spoke Chekowski’s name. At last Dylan said, “I don’t like it, but I guess we don’t have any choice.”
He hung up. “There’s been an incident near the border. Holmquist is there. He won’t get here in time, but he’ll head over here as soon as he can. In the meantime he’s calling Chekowski.”
She shrugged. “The gang shot at him, knocked him unconscious at my apartment. He’s one of us. We can trust him.”
Dylan hesitated.
She squeezed his hand again. “You have to go. You can’t let Vibora get his hands on Lena and her little boy. I’ll be fine until Chekowski arrives.”
She sounded so firm and certain.
Please, Lord. Let it be true.
EIGHT
Joss sat for a long while after Dylan left, staring at the photos and notes. No new memories came to her, but her feelings grew stronger. Jason had loved his studies and his school. Taking the job in the mechanic shop had been a necessity, not a pleasure. She’d lived with the knowledge that he’d given up his dreams, jumped in to take care of her without a thought. Jason had sacrificed so much for her, left his studies so she could finish years of schooling. He was so kindhearted, so willing to help those he loved...anyone in need. She could easily see how he would have agreed to help Maria escape.
