Now her frown matched his. “From what he said, you can’t call him back, right?”
“Exactly. Which also concerns me.” He shook his head. “He mentioned a burner phone. There’s no reason to have a burner phone unless you’re worried about being tracked.”
She nodded. “I’m getting the feeling that all of this—the bombing, the photos, your not-so-missing friend Rick and NCIS—are all connected. I just wish we could figure out how.”
“Good point. I had the same feeling.” Again, the niggling sense that he was missing something important. Something right underneath his nose.
They spent the next several hours poring over photographs, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Jason couldn’t help but continually glance at the damn phone, willing it to ring.
But as the storm continued to rage, the phone sat silent. There were no more messages. Jason didn’t know if Rick might be trying to call and couldn’t get through, or if his friend was too busy staying on the run to try and reach him again.
They had soup for lunch and went back to work. Lucy had to be bored by now, but she continued to go through snapshots without complaining. He couldn’t help but admire that.
They finished with their evening meal, when the snow began to taper off. “Looks like the worst of it is over,” Jason said, trying out the television, relieved to find that his satellite was up and running. Which meant the phone would work too, should Rick decide to call.
Finally, as Jason and Lucy cuddled under a blanket on the couch watching a movie, the phone rang. Jason leaped to answer it.
“It’s me,” Rick said. “I don’t have much time. Tell me, is the woman still there?” The crack in his voice belayed his exhaustion. “I just need to know if she’s all right.”
“The woman?” Jason glanced at Lucy, trying to connect the dots. “How do you know about her?”
“I can’t believe you haven’t figured it out.” Rick snorted. “I left her in your cabin. I had to get her out of Kabul before they killed her.”
Though he had a thousand questions, Jason forced himself to stay on track. “Define they.”
“No time. Not yet. Just tell me she’s okay. You didn’t let anyone take her, right?”
Jason glanced over at Lucy, still wrapped in the blanket, now sitting up and watching him intently. “She’s fine. Who is she?”
“What?” The line crackled, and for a second Jason feared they’d lost the connection.
But then Rick spoke again. “What do you mean, ‘who is she?’ Didn’t she tell you?”
“No. She lost her memory.”
“All of it?” Rick asked. “Maybe that’s a blessing in disguise. After the beating she got... I’m surprised it didn’t kill her. They wanted her dead, I’m pretty sure. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Which meant they—whoever they were—might be after her.
“Explain. To begin with, who is she?” Across the room, Lucy stiffened, and then got up and came over to stand near him. Jason reached out and pulled her close, keeping his arm around her waist.
“She’s—” Static blotted out whatever his friend had to say.
Jason waited impatiently for the static to subside. When it did, he waited a few seconds. “Rick? Are you there?”
But only silence greeted him. The connection had been lost.
Muttering a curse, Jason hurriedly hit Redial. As he’d suspected, redial didn’t work on blocked numbers and the call would not go through, and he finally replaced the phone in the cradle. “We lost him before he told me anything, other than he was the one who got you out of Kabul and brought you here. I’m not clear why, but he mentioned you were beaten, nearly killed.”
“Which means my injuries were not the result of the bombing,” Lucy said.
“Right. I asked him for your name, but never got it. I’m sorry.”
Disappointment flashed across her face. “But he does know, right? He knows who I am?”
“Apparently.”
“Do you trust him?” she asked. “How well do you know him?”
“Rick and I grew up together. That’s how he not only knew about this cabin, but knew how to get in. He’s one of the few people who knows where I hide my spare key.”
Her lovely blue eyes widened at this. “Where is he now? Is it safe to meet with him? I’d really like to find out everything he knows.”
“Me too. But it’s clear he doesn’t feel safe and that he thinks someone is after him. I’m sure he’ll contact me again when he can.”
She nodded. “The subpoena,” she said. “They’re going to be asking you questions about him. What if they find out he’s contacted you?”
Damn. She was right. “I’ll have to stall. Somehow.”
“What happens if you don’t show up?”
“I imagine they’ll put out a warrant for my arrest. I’m not sure. I’d have to look it up.” Mind spinning, he sat down. “I need to let Rick know what’s going on. Except I have no way to contact him.”
He pulled her close, kissing her just below her jawbone. “Right now, we might as well get some sleep. The snowstorm is letting up, and hopefully will stop completely by morning. I’ll try and get some answers then.”
“Sleep?” Her voice echoed disbelief. “How can you possibly sleep now, having just learned news like this?”
Her question made him smile. “It’s better than sitting around and worrying about something we can’t change.”
Slowly, she nodded, the darkness in her gaze reflecting her disappointment. He could tell she realized he spoke only truth, even if she didn’t like it. He couldn’t blame her. Had their positions been reversed, he’d have been impatient to get his answers too.
“Give me a few minutes to freshen up,” she said. “And then I’ll join you. I can’t help but wish that, at the very least, we’d been able to learn my real name.”
Chapter 12
Once inside the restroom, Lucy eyed herself in the mirror. She felt on edge, jangly and restless and nervous. She was so close to learning who she was and what had happened to her. Oddly enough, she had mixed feelings about that.
In actuality, while it sounded great to finally know her real name and why she’d ended up in Jason’s cabin, she realized she sort of wanted to figure it all out herself. Selfish, maybe. But she wasn’t sure how’d she’d feel if this Rick person gave Jason all the information about her and she still didn’t remember any of it. She suspected that would make her feel even worse.
But, she reminded herself, this wasn’t all about her. Rick had involved Jason in whatever this was. Jason had stepped up, taking care of a woman he’d never even met. He’d been a true friend—more than a friend. In a short period of time, he’d become her everything. She couldn’t bear if something happened to him because of her.
Her knees nearly buckled. If she had any decency, she’d leave. Put as much distance between herself and Jason as possible. She couldn’t endanger him if she wasn’t around him.
But she couldn’t. The thought of never seeing him again felt like a hard punch to the stomach, robbing her of her breath. She owed him more than she could ever repay, but she couldn’t leave him. Not now, while she was only half a woman. Maybe she’d be strong enough to do so after she’d regained her sense of self. Maybe. And then again, maybe not.
After washing up, she brushed her teeth, lingering in the bathroom as long as she could. Not because she wanted to avoid Jason, but because she needed to get herself together before facing him. The last thing she wanted to do would be to have a total meltdown.
Finally, she felt composed enough to open the door. So much had happened in the last several hours, she wondered if she would be able to relax enough to eventually fall asleep. Maybe she could distract the both of them. A vigorous bout of lovemaking might help.
Yet she wasn’t sure she h
ad her act together enough for that. One touch, and she might simply shatter into a million pieces.
Instead of heading into the bedroom, she went to the kitchen and got a glass of water from the fridge, turning out the lights before carrying it over to the sink so she could look out the window. The porch light provided just enough illumination for her to watch the fat, lazy snowflakes drift down. Beautiful. She felt at peace, warm and snug in the quiet cabin.
Judging by the snow piled on the railing, they’d gotten well over a foot, which seemed like a lot for so early in the year. But then again, they were deep in the mountains, and she truly had no idea what might be normal for a place like this.
That thought made her chuckle under her breath. Right now with no memory, she had no actual idea what might be normal for anywhere.
Knowing Jason would be waiting, she finished her water and put the glass in the sink. Now that she’d steadied herself, she felt better. Sexy even. Just the thought of making love with Jason had her pulse quickening. Finally, she headed for his room, already planning exactly what she wanted to do to arouse him.
But when she slipped through the doorway, she realized she’d clearly delayed too long. Jason lay on his back, eyes closed and softly snoring. He’d fallen asleep while waiting for her.
Instead of climbing into bed, she stood and studied him for a moment. So damn handsome. Though a big man, he moved with a quick-limbed kind of grace that she found attractive. Heck, even asleep, he managed to radiate self-confidence, though she didn’t understand how. More entranced than disappointed, she studied his chiseled profile, relaxed and unaware.
Briefly, she toyed with the idea of waking him up with kisses, but since she knew he must need his rest, she decided she’d make more use of this alone time. Still carrying her half-full glass of water, she returned to the living room, added a couple more pieces of wood to the woodstove and sat down on the couch. Alone with the flickering light of the fire, she half closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind and hope some sort of memory, no matter how brief, would come to her.
Instead, she must have fallen asleep, sitting cross-legged on the couch. She woke with her legs asleep and her back aching. Not sure how much time had passed, she sheepishly untangled herself, got up and tried to shake the circulation back into her now-tingling limbs.
Moving around the room, she yawned, realizing that she must have been more tired than she’d realized. Even though the woodstove fire still put out good heat, she went ahead and added a few more pieces of tinder to keep it going strong for a few more hours.
Eying the comfortable sofa, she briefly hesitated. She debated whether to try and sleep on the couch or get back into bed with Jason. The lure of Jason’s body heat pulled her down the short hall and into his room.
Moving carefully, she lifted the sheet and blankets and managed to slip into the bed next to him without disturbing him. With her heart full, she propped herself up on one elbow and gazed down at him, watching him sleep again. She wanted to imprint the image into her memory before she slumbered.
Then finally, she settled into place, closed her eyes and let herself drift off to sleep.
She’d already been injured when the bomb went off. She saw what had happened from a distance, as if watching someone else. She’d gone looking for Russell and blundered into a scene straight out of a nightmare.
Following in the direction she’d seen him going when she’d looked out her window, she’d turned into one of the narrow alleyways that wound like a warren in the neighborhood near the hotel. Several wooden doors, spaced at regular intervals, led to what she supposed were private residences along the way. Most of them were closed.
But one was not. Slightly cracked, just enough for her to hear Russell’s voice.
About to push open the door and greet him, something in his tone made her pause. He sounded angry, on the verge of violence, which seemed impossible because Russell was the most self-contained man she knew.
For a split second, she wondered if she’d made a mistake and the voice she heard was someone else. But no, he continued to talk, practically snarling, and as the words he used began to register, she recoiled in horror.
Wanting to see—needing to see—she pushed the door all the way open and stood, staring in shock. Three women, all naked, their hands tied behind their backs, knelt in front of her fiancé. Also naked, Russell held some sort of whip, and judging by the size of his erection, he quite enjoyed hitting the women with it. Purpling bruises, welts and even blood decorated their dusky skin.
Though stunned, she had enough of her wits about her to notice the women were clearly terrified. They were locals, and she realized they’d wanted no part of this at all. They were his...prisoners. Unwilling sex slaves.
She must have made a sound of horror, because Russell spun around, whip cracking, catching her on the shoulder. Realizing who he’d hit, he made an effort to check himself, but it was too late.
Pain exploded through her, and she screamed. Russell grabbed her, clapping his hand over her mouth. “Calm down,” he ordered, holding on so tightly she grew afraid he might decide to strangle her next. She let her eyes blaze her contempt for him, struggling to get away.
Instead of releasing her, he shoved her, so hard that she slammed into one of the stone walls. When her head hit, her sight momentarily went black, stars appearing in her peripheral vision. She cried out again, unable to fathom how this was happening. How could the man she’d actually believed she would marry act this way?
Who was he, really?
As she struggled to remain standing, he came at her. He hit her, again and again and again. Belatedly, she remembered her self-defense class and tried to fight back, but her responses came too late. He continued beating her, until the pain became too much and she blacked out.
Gasping, Lucy flailed wildly, fought off the blankets and sat up in the bed. A dream. It had been a dream. No, more than that. Her memory had come searching for her in the quiet of sleep.
Blearily, Jason reached for her, most likely intending to comfort her, but all she saw was Russell’s fist coming at her again and again and again.
Instead of lashing out, she shot backward, away, rocketing to her feet, drenched in sweat and too terrified to even try to pretend she was okay. Because she wasn’t. Far from it.
“Lucy?” Fully awake now, Jason sat up too and clicked on the bedside lamp. “What happened? Are you okay?”
Shuddering, shaking, she struggled to draw breath. This was Jason, she told herself. He would never hurt her.
“Lucy?” he repeated, clearly understanding not to try and get too close. “Talk to me. Please. Did you have a bad dream?”
“I saw,” she managed to say. “I saw exactly what happened to me in Kabul. And the man, the one I pointed out, he was my fiancé.”
Words tumbling over one another, she told him everything she’d seen. His expression darkened as she relayed how Russell had beat her to nearly an inch of her life.
“Russell who?” he asked, snapping out the words. Judging from the rigid set of his jaw, he wanted to make Russell pay.
Oddly enough, the quiet fury in his voice calmed her. Thinking for a moment, she finally shook her head. “I don’t know. I probably should, but right now it’s not coming to me. But I heard him say my name, so I know that now at least.” She tried to summon a shaky smile, but failed. “My name isn’t Lucy. He called me Abby.”
“Abby.” Jason regarded her for a moment before slowly nodding. “It suits you.”
“Does it?” She didn’t know. Privately, she thought she much preferred Lucy.
“Yes.” He no doubt meant his warm smile to reassure her. “Is that what you’d like me to use from now on?”
Her real name. Abby. Though she still had no idea of the rest of it—middle or last. Torn, she hesitated. She’d feel foolish insisting he continue to use Lucy now t
hat she knew her real name. “Sure,” she replied. “It might take a little bit, but I’ll eventually get used to it.”
He laughed at that. “You will. How about I call you Abby Lou until you do?”
Shaking her head, she couldn’t help but smile. “We can try that. Eventually. But if you don’t mind, for now let’s keep Lucy. I don’t feel like an Abby. Not yet. I promise to let you know when I do.”
He nodded. “Sounds good.”
Her smile faded as she considered the enormity of the news Rick had imparted earlier. This, along with her dream, went a good way toward filling in the blanks. “I can’t help but wonder what else your friend Rick knows,” she mused. At least, with all this discussion, she’d managed to stop trembling. Though she suspected it would be a long time before the horror of that memory left her.
Gaze steady, he nodded. “I’m sure we’ll find out next time he’s able to get through. Some of what you learn might be upsetting. Are you okay with that?”
Deciding to answer honestly, she shrugged. “I’m not sure. Part of me would prefer to remember it all on my own. But since I don’t know how long that will take...”
He patted the bed beside him. “Come here,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to hold you.”
Raising a brow, she tried to find the right words.
Something in her expression must have revealed her thoughts. “No hanky-panky,” he promised, his soft smile touching her. “It’s three in the morning and you just went through an ordeal that clearly shook you. I want to offer comfort and support. If you don’t want me to, that’s fine. Come back to bed and let’s try to get some more rest.”
Still, she hesitated. Her skin still crawled and she wondered if Jason’s touch could erase the memory of what had been done to her.
He didn’t push her or repeat his request. Instead, he simply watched her, letting her make her own decision.
“I’m not sure I can sleep,” she said. Despite that, she went to him, drawn to the reassuring warmth of his muscular body. Once she’d gotten in to the covers, he curled his body around hers, holding her close with his arm. Amazingly, she managed to drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Snowbound Targets (HQR Romantic Suspense) Page 17
