“Is she ever going to get her memory back?” Ryan asked.
“From my discussion with Dr. Allan, a local neurosurgeon who’s looked at her charts, it’s not likely. Most amnesiacs remember something, anything, especially from their childhood, but Kate’s case is very unique. She hasn’t remembered a single thing. She’d hoped being in San Francisco would trigger her memory, but so far, nothing.”
She softened her tone. “I’m sorry, Ryan. I know that’s not the answer you were hoping for.”
He nodded, stared down at the report. Several seconds of silence passed before he said, “Who would do this to her? Who would do this to us?”
His head snapped up, but instead of pain, this time Simone saw anger. A hell of a lot of anger Ryan had every right to be feeling. He pushed out of his chair. “Who the hell was that sonofabitch who took her away from us?”
“His name was Jacob Alexander,” Simone answered. “He was a doctor in the Houston area. He was also a passenger aboard the plane that crashed here recently, which is how Kate came to find me and then you. Apparently he was here in San Francisco for a medical conference, though Kate doesn’t know the name of it. I don’t have a lot of information on Alexander yet, but Kate’s asked me to do some digging.”
“What kind of digging?” Mitch asked.
Simone looked his way and saw the anger in his eyes as well. They’d all lost so much time. Time they couldn’t possibly get back. But hopefully knowing the why would help alleviate some of that hurt. “Kate needs to know what happened to her. She’s as confused by all this as you both are, except in her case, she’s trying to figure out which parts of her life are lies and which parts are truth. We’re starting with the nursing home where she was in that coma, although we’re running into obstacles. Ryan, you identified her belongings after the crash, correct?”
“Yeah.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “There wasn’t much there, just her purse and charred laptop.”
“Do you still have them?”
“I might, somewhere. I boxed up a lot of her stuff right after that. What the hell will that tell you?”
“Probably nothing, but she’d like to see them just the same. Mitch, can you get a hold of the university and find out what projects she was working on before her disappearance?”
“You think all this might be related to her work?” Mitch asked.
“I don’t know. What we do know is that Ryan left her at the airport, and she woke up from a coma almost three years later. If this had been a random act of violence, a kidnapping, something like that, she’d be dead now. Someone took the time to make it look like she was on that flight, then to take care of her after God only knows what kind of accident. It could very well have been related to a project she was working on.”
“And if it wasn’t?” Ryan asked.
“If it wasn’t, we’ll cross that off our list and move on to the next possibility. In the meantime, I’m going to keep hounding that doctor in Houston who’s listed on Kate’s medical records and try to find some answers there. Kate also mentioned her father in law—Walter Alexander—who seems to have disappeared just after his son died. I want to track him down as well.”
Simone caught the fire in Ryan’s eyes. Fire that said it was a good thing Jacob Alexander was already dead. Simone understood his rage and frustration, but of more importance to her was Kate, and making sure Kate had what she needed to get through the next few days in one piece.
“So what now?” Ryan asked.
“Well, that’s really up to you and Kate,” Simone answered. “She isn’t asking for anything at this point. She needs some time to absorb it all, but I’m sure she’ll be contacting you shortly. She’s not asking for any sort of legal visitation with Julia, if that’s what you’re concerned about. She’s expressed a strong desire to get to know Julia, which I’m sure you’re aware of, but I think you two need to try to work that out on your own before bringing in legal representation. I think the next step is notifying your parents, Mitch, asking them for blood samples, just to verify the whole thing.”
Mitch nodded. Simone glanced between the two, wishing she could do something, anything to make this easier on them. Knew, unfortunately, that she couldn’t.
She pushed away from the desk and stepped forward, indicating the meeting was pretty much over. “You’re welcome to take those reports. I don’t suspect they’ll help much now, but maybe they will in the future.”
Ryan thanked her, turned and looked at Mitch, who was still seated. “I’ll see you outside.”
When they were alone, Mitch looked up at her. “What’s this investigation about?”
“If it were you, wouldn’t you want to know what happened?”
He shook his head, glanced down at the report still in his hands. “I get Ryan’s anger and his need to know and all. I’m as angry as he is about the fact she was taken from us. But this…it just seems like a wild-goose chase.”
“It could be. We’re taking it one step at a time. In the meantime, it makes Kate feel like she’s doing something, like she has some control over her life. I think she needs that right now.”
“How’d she take it?” he asked quietly.
“Not well. She knew before I said it, though, just like Ryan did. They have a lot to work through.”
He glanced back at the closed door. “I don’t know how to make this easier for him.”
“Just be there for him. It’s about to get sticky, Mitch.”
His gaze locked on hers. Then his eyes widened. “Oh, hell. The boy.”
“You know?”
“I didn’t, until just now.” His eyes slid shut. “I saw a photo on her desk. Shit.” He told her about the visit to Kate’s office only days before. “I didn’t put two and two together until right now. Things have been so…crazy. God Almighty.” He rubbed his forehead. “I thought things were bad before.”
“You can’t say anything to Ryan. She’s going to tell him. She needs a little time to figure out how. We have to let them work through this on their own.”
“I’m torn on this one, Counselor. She’s my sister, and I love her, whether she remembers me or not. But he’s, by every right, my brother, and I love him too. And he needs me.”
That revelation touched her in a way she didn’t expect. She crouched in front of him, her fingertips gently brushing his cheek. “You’re doing the right thing already. I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all this. Can I do anything?”
He looked up, and that sexy grin spread across his face. The one that brought out that deep dimple that did insane things to her pulse. “You could have dinner with me.”
Oh, but she wanted to. “I can’t, Mitch. Not so long as I’m representing Kate.”
His eyes locked on hers. She saw the same disappointment she felt reflected there. “I want you to tell her to find another attorney, for my own sake, but I can’t. She needs you. She needs someone on her side.”
“She’s got all of us on her side.”
“Yeah, but Ryan…” He looked to the door. “I have a feeling this is gonna get bad before it gets better.”
Unfortunately, Simone had a sinking suspicion he was right.
***
Ryan checked the address he’d finagled from Annie’s secretary and glanced at the small, two-story cottage along the beach with gray shaker siding and seagull wind chimes hanging from the front porch. Nothing like his house in Sausalito. Not even close to the place they’d shared together in San Francisco. But still, property in Moss Beach wasn’t cheap. He wondered how she had the funds for a place out here.
As he took in the small beach houses on the treeless street, he rubbed the dull ache in his chest with the palm of his hand. He wanted to see her, needed to see her. There were things he needed to say now that they knew for sure. He couldn’t sit around and wait for her to make the first move.
On legs more unsteady than he wanted to admit, he made his way up her walk, knocked on the door. When no one answered, h
e paused to listen. Voices echoed from the back of the house. Trying to figure out where they were coming from, he headed around the side.
The yards were unfenced. Grass gave way to sand, which bled into the Pacific. As he reached the back of Annie’s cottage, a young boy crouched in the grass playing with a pile of sticks stood up and stared at him with big, blue eyes.
Eyes that were just like Ryan’s eyes. Same shape, same color. The blond-haired boy even had the same shaped face.
“Um, hi,” Ryan managed when he could find his voice.
“You’re a stranger.” The boy turned and took off running. “Mama! A stranger!”
Mama? Ryan stepped out of the trees along the side of the house to get another look at the kid. He ran up to a woman seated on the sand. She turned and shielded her eyes from the sun to look back across the yard, then jumped to her feet.
The pair spoke for a moment. Then the boy shrugged and ran toward the house. He paused when he approached Ryan again, this time smiling, flashing that same dimple Ryan had seen so many times before on Mitch’s face, on Julia’s face, on Annie’s face. “Mama said I could watch cartoons.”
He disappeared into the house. The screen door slapped shut behind him.
Ryan’s pulse raced as he stood in the yard, sunglasses in hand, trying to figure out what the hell he’d just seen. No way that was real. He mentally ticked off time in his mind as his gaze shifted across the sand to Annie. Words choked in his throat. Snapshots of their life together flashed behind his eyes, memories of a pregnancy that had only just begun before she’d left on that trip.
“I didn’t expect to see you today,” she said as she approached slowly.
“Yeah, ah, I can see that.” He looked back toward the house, still too stunned to do anything but stare. “The boy…”
“He’s my son.” When Ryan looked her way again, she added, “I’m pretty sure he’s your son, too.”
“My…” he swallowed hard “…son?”
She crossed her arms over her middle, looking gorgeous and nervous a thousand other things he couldn’t describe because he was too wigged out to think clearly. “He was almost three years old when I woke up. He was born by cesarean when I was in that coma. He’s four, and he doesn’t know anything about this yet. I haven’t told him about it, about you.” She hesitated. “He thinks his father died in that plane crash.”
Ryan couldn’t seem to take his eyes off the house. “I have a son.”
A son. A four-year-old boy who looked just like him. With his blue eyes and his blond hair and Annie’s silly dimple. His heart felt like it kick-started right there in his chest. A son he hadn’t once let himself dream about over the years because it was too painful to think of one more thing that he’d lost.
But he hadn’t lost him. He was here. He was as alive as Annie. He was…
A son who, after seeing him, he knew couldn’t possibly belong to anyone else. A son he was only just now finding out about. Over a week after she’d come into his life.
The surprise and elation he’d originally felt morphed to confusion. He turned to face her. “You didn’t say anything. All this time, and you didn’t say anything?”
“I didn’t know for sure until yesterday. I still don’t. I didn’t have him tested.”
“You’re pretty sure now.”
“I’ve a strong hunch. It’s not the same.”
“A strong hunch. It doesn’t take a strong hunch to see he looks just like me.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Dammit, all this time and you didn’t tell me? Were you ever going to tell me?”
“Yes, of course. I wasn’t planning on keeping it from you.”
“Well, isn’t that what you’re doing? You obviously didn’t tell me when you found out who you are.”
“Ryan, it’s only been a day.”
Her impassive tone only infuriated him more. “Only a day? A day is like a lifetime to me. I assumed you lost the baby!” He drew in a deep breath, tried to calm his raging temper. It didn’t work. “Son of a bitch, he’s my son? Do you have any idea how much I wanted that baby? My God, I didn’t just lose you. I lost him, too. And now you’re telling me it’s only been one goddamn day?”
He paced away, then back again, not trusting himself. Why couldn’t he control his emotions when he was around her? Why was everything getting worse instead of better? He had a son. A son. He should be happy. Thrilled. Instead, all he felt was pain, confusion, and a mountain of misery.
“Don’t do this,” she said. “I’m telling you now.”
“You didn’t tell me. I found out on my own, accidentally!”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When? When it was convenient for you? Did you even think what I’d need? How I’d feel? No, because you can’t remember anything about me. Convenient, isn’t it? To have such a candid excuse for not caring about anyone else’s feelings.”
“Kate?”
They both glanced toward the screen. A middle-aged man with thinning hair stood on the other side of the door. “Is everything okay out here?”
“Who the hell are you?” Ryan asked.
“I’m a friend of Kate’s. Who are you?”
“I’m her goddamn husband. Can’t you feel the love?”
Annie closed her eyes.
The man pushed the screen open, squared his shoulders.
Annie jogged up the steps and pushed him back into the house. “Tom, now’s a really bad time.”
“I came by to make sure you were okay. You skipped out on a meeting today.”
She herded him inside. “I’m fine. I’ll explain it later. Right now, I need to take care of this.”
From the yard, Ryan heard the man say, “Do you want me to stay? That guy looks pissed. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Annie’s voice—shit, Kate’s voice…his Annie would never do this to him—echoed from inside, but Ryan blocked it out. Closing his eyes, he rested his hands on his hips, breathed deep, and tried to find control. In his business dealings, he was all about control, but with her…with her, he’d never had control. She’d wrapped him around her finger from the first moment they’d met, and he’d been under her spell ever since. She’d brought out the deepest emotions in him, from the most intense passion to the most excruciating pain. And that pain was lingering from one freshly inflicted wound to the next, dragging out his anger in ways he didn’t want but needed to contain.
He had to stop letting his emotions lead him. She didn’t remember him. She didn’t care about him. He had to think about Julia and…his son. He had to start thinking of this as a business transaction.
He slipped on his sunglasses, crossed the grass, and dropped into the sand, perching his forearms on his knees as he stared out at the roaring waves and waited.
Long minutes later, he heard the screen door open and sensed more than heard her move up behind him.
“Is he gone?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Who was he?”
“My boss. This is, technically, his house. We’re renting it from him.”
That explained how she was able to afford a place way out here.
“What’s my son’s name?” He knew his tone was harsh, but he didn’t care.
“Reed—” she blew out a breath “—Jacob Alexander.”
“You gave our son his name.” His jaw clenched.
“Ryan, I didn’t name him. I was in a coma when he was born.”
He closed his eyes and was forced himself to remain silent as he tried like hell to lock his emotions deep inside. It just didn’t fucking work. “I want visitation. If you won’t agree to it, I’ll take it to the courts. My lawyers will get it.”
“I’ll agree. I don’t want to keep him from you.”
“Good. You tell him. Tonight. If you don’t, I’ll do it. I’m not going to pretend like he’s not mine. We both know he is. I’ve waited too damn long already.”
“I’ll do it. Ryan—”
“And I want his name
changed. I want him to have my name. Our name, dammit.” He glared at her over his shoulder. Knew it wasn’t her fault. Knew none of this was directly her doing, but, God, he hurt. And she was the cause. “Keep the fucking middle name if you have to but his last name will be Harrison.”
He stood and brushed the sand off his slacks. “We’ll meet Saturday, ten in the morning, at Golden Gate Park, on the steps outside the Conservatory. Don’t be late, Ms. Alexander.”
Her hand closed around his arm, stopping him. “Hey. This isn’t easy for me. None of this is. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”
“The right thing? Which one is the right thing? Not telling me about my son or getting married when you were still married to me?”
She let go but didn’t step back. “That’s not fair. I didn’t know I was your wife when I was with Jake. He led me to believe we were married. It wasn’t like we went through a ceremony.”
“How convenient for you.”
He saw the hurt in her eyes, but he also saw the anger. That familiar independent spark that he had once both loved and hated. “You use that word, convenient, a lot. I seem to be a convenient target for you. If you’ve got something to say, Harrison, go ahead and say it.”
“Fine, I will. I don’t like you.”
She let out a sour laugh but didn’t smile. “Then we’re even because right now I think you’re an ass.”
He clenched his jaw to the point of pain, stared hard at her. At the woman who was still his wife. His wife, dammit. No one else’s. It didn’t matter that she didn’t remember him. It didn’t even matter that she hadn’t consciously married that rat bastard Alexander. All that mattered was that she’d let the asshole trick her into thinking she had. After everything they’d shared, she should have known in her heart the prick was lying to her. She should have known she belonged with someone else.
He left her standing in the sand. Knew she was right. He was an ass. A grade-A ass. But all he could think about was the fact she was wearing another man’s ring. That and the fact he had a son. A son she’d named after the son of a bitch.
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