by Ellie Danes
"What? What are you saying?" I yelled at the top of my lungs.
Adrian. His name was Adrian.
I woke with a jolt, my heart almost jumping out of my chest. We were safe, Bree still curled against me in the backseat of the maroon sedan. Pale sunlight was starting to reach through the branches that concealed us and soon we'd have to get back on the road.
I shifted and Bree smiled in her sleep.
Visions of her straddling my lap jumped back to me with a wave of heat. No wonder I had felt relaxed enough to sleep and dream. And that's why I had remembered.
Adrian. How did I know him?
The certainty broke away as the dream faded and I woke up fully. I remembered the gunman, he was familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on how. Why would I know a man like that? What had he been trying to say to me in the dream?
Then I remembered the rest, my squadron commander’s orders and Bree telling me I had to do something. And little Maggie looking so sad and lost.
I sat up. What was I supposed to be doing?
There was no answer, just the long stretch of blank days. I still didn't know what I had done, much less what I was supposed to do.
Bree stretched and opened her eyes. "Good morning?" she asked.
I tried to wipe the worried frown off my face. "Looks like it. It was a good night, too."
Bree sat up, combing her fingers through her hair. "Did you get some sleep? I hope it helped. The doctor said if you relaxed and got some rest that you might start remembering things."
I yanked my shirt over my head, hoping that Bree couldn't see my face. How could I tell her what I had remembered? I wasn't sure if it was true, but I was connected the gunman. I somehow knew the man who had threatened her life and tried to use her as leverage.
"I'm not sure I would call sleeping on the backseat of a sedan rest," I said.
Bree giggled. "Well, I slept like a log and I feel great."
I forced a smile and kissed her. "Me, too."
At least that much was the truth.
"Good, because I'm starving. I know we're on the run and all but the least we can do is hit a drive-thru or something, right?" Bree asked.
As she pulled on her clothes and talked about what fast food chain had the best breakfast, I made a decision. Bree didn't need to know anything that I wasn't a hundred percent sure about.
Until I could confirm the gunman following us was named Adrian, there was no reason to assume the dream meant anything. I was still tired, under a lot of stress, and still recovering from my injuries. All I could do was hope that when my memory came back, it would show me that I could still live with myself.
I still wanted to be the man Bree thought I was.
"Ready to go?" she asked with a bright smile.
I nodded and started us down the road. It didn't matter that I had no idea where we were going. Bree was with me, and that would make all the difference.
Chapter Twenty
Bree
Outside the motel was a long stretch of dry grass, a neglected pasture that reached far past the for sale signs and on to where it turned a shadowy blue. There, on the horizon, the Rocky Mountains jutted up, dark gray against the blue sky. On the very top were flashes of white snow, so far off in the distance, I wasn't sure if they were clouds or maybe a trick of the eye.
I hadn't been getting a lot of sleep, and it was possible I was seeing things.
It didn't help that our rundown little motel seemed to stand in the middle of nowhere. Even the parking lot didn't have a distinct border, it just gave way to the dry grass that stretched all the way to the base of the mountains. Buildings dotted the landscape here and there, but they seemed temporary and unreal.
I rubbed my eyes hard and shook my head. Definitely not getting enough sleep.
"So, what do you think of Pueblo, Colorado?" Nathan asked. He handed me a Styrofoam cup of coffee.
I shrugged. "The view's nice."
Nathan wasn't looking at the view. He had that postcard out again. I followed him back into the motel room, shutting the door on the Rocky Mountains, and watched him settled on the creaking bed to study the postcard again.
"Maybe the view's nice there, too," I said.
Nathan glanced up. "Where?"
"El Paso. You're doing it again, you know." I sat down at the wagon wheel table in the corner of our motel room and put my feet up on the chair opposite me. "You've been staring at that postcard for twenty-four hours now."
He tossed it down on the bed next to him but couldn't quite tear his eyes off it. "I just wish it was a better clue. Nothing but an old mission."
"Luckily it's a historic mission. We'll be able to find it. And Ginger Park Road." I braced myself and sipped the motel coffee. Nothing made me miss the diner more than bad coffee. "I just wish we didn't have to take the long way."
Nathan made a face at his coffee and set it down on the rickety nightstand. "I know. I'm sorry it's taking so long but we can't take any chances. Those men can probably guess where we're going, and I don't want them to find us."
I shuddered, thinking of the armed men in dark suits. I knew something was off the moment I saw them inside the bank and that was before they opened fire on us. I could still feel the suffocating darkness of the black hood they had thrown over my head. If it hadn't been for Nathan, I would still be their hostage.
Too bad neither of us knew what deal they were trying to enforce using me as leverage.
All I knew was that Nathan had saved me. Again. Now it didn't matter if he was taking us on a long, extended arc through Colorado before heading to Texas. I knew I was safer with Nathan.
And, he needed me. His memory still hadn't returned, and he was rushing headlong into this fight just as blind as me.
I made the mistake of taking another sip of coffee. "Oh, god! You know the coffee's bad when all I can think about is the black muck Janice makes back at the diner," I said.
Nathan swung his boots to the floor and looked at me. "You've been gone three full days now. Shouldn't you give them a call?"
"You're right," I said. "I don't know what to tell them, but I better call."
Nathan tossed me a burner phone we'd picked up at the last gas station. "Tell them it's family trouble. Nobody wants to get involved in that because everybody knows what that's like."
I nodded but waited until he had kicked off his boots and headed to the bathroom. When the shower was running, I forced myself to dial.
"Yes, we're open twenty-four seven," Janice said when she picked up the diner phone.
"And I'm sorry I'm not there to help with the late shift," I said.
"Bree! We've been worried sick. Where are you?" Janice asked. "Even the regulars are noticing you're not around. The place just isn't the same without you."
"I'm sorry, Janice, I really am. I'm fine. It's just, just, ah, family trouble." I bit a nail and wondered if she would buy it.
"Oh, god, say no more. My brothers are absolute nightmares, and I swear if I have to bail one more of their sorry asses out of jail I'm changing my last name," Janice said.
I let out a long, relieved breath. "Thanks. I really don't have any idea how long this all might take. Do you think I'll still have a job when I get back?"
Janice cackled. "You kidding? Just come in wearing your uniform and no one will even bat an eyelash. Until then you be safe, and don't let that family of yours drive you crazy."
I thought about my waitress uniform way back in my abandoned car and wondered if I would ever get back to Kansas again. "Thanks, Janice. I'll check in again when I can."
After I hung up the phone, I got up and paced, practically running into Nathan as he came out of the bathroom. One whiff of his steamy, clean skin and I wished I had.
He caught me looking and smiled. "So, how'd it go? The diner falling apart without you?"
I dropped my eyes to the floor before they devoured the rest of Nathan's chiseled chest. "Janice is probably working double shifts. I feel terri
ble."
"Well, I can't do anything for Janice, but I might be able to think of something that could make you feel better," Nathan said.
He reached out and hooked me around the waist. The slippery, wet kiss definitely took my mind off my waitress friend and the faraway diner. Nathan's lips tasted mine, paused, smiled, and tasted again. I slipped my hands up his bare skin and held onto his strong shoulders.
I was miles and miles away from work, and Nathan was only in a towel.
Still, I struggled to control myself. It didn't seem fair that I was enjoying myself while Janice was handling the lunch rush all on her own.
"Don't think about work," Nathan whispered against my lips. "Can't we just pretend we're on vacation?"
I pushed back. "If this motel is your idea of a vacation, then I'd rather be at work," I teased.
Nathan grinned. "Maybe it's not the most luxurious, but you know what?"
I warily met his mischievous eyes. "What?"
"The sheets are clean."
I squealed as Nathan picked me up and tossed me on the motel bed. The springs protested, and the headboard thumped against the faux-wood-paneled wall, but I forgot about everything as soon as Nathan landed next to me.
His hand pressed against my side and slid me closer to his warm, bare body. In the leap onto the bed, his towel had come undone and the only thing between us was my rumpled sundress. As if he could read my mind, Nathan's hand dropped to the hem of my dress and tickled my thigh.
"You still wish you were at work?" Nathan asked.
"Maybe," I told him.
He slid his hand a little higher under my sundress. "Now?"
I pretended to yawn but Nathan stopped me with another kiss. My hands couldn't resist trailing up his back, testing the muscles of his arms. He smiled, kissed me again, and settled his weight heavier on top of me. I welcomed every inch of his skin against mine.
Soon it was me who was tugging at the hem of my sundress. Nathan was more than happy to help. He teased me with his fingertips, drawing circles as he slipped the thin fabric higher and higher. When he reached the lace of my panties, he paused to trace the boundary up to my hip, then back down.
I panted against his lips, waiting for his touch, wanting it more than words. When he slipped one finger inside me, I let out a wordless sigh of pleasure.
Nathan answered with a pleased growl, dipping his finger farther in before pulling back so slowly all I could do was moan. I rocked my hips up, wanting more, wrapping my legs around his naked waist.
Nathan shifted, the bed creaked, and then he plunged us together, filling me with ecstasy. I arched up, meeting him with each thrust. We both heard the headboard whacking the wall but it seemed far away, like we were on another planet.
Soon my cries of pleasure were added to the percussion, and it was a good thing the shabby motel was mostly empty. Nathan pushed me harder and higher until I almost screamed out at my peak. Then he followed with an unhindered moan of complete surrender.
We both collapsed into the lumpy pillows of the motel bed, tangled up in each other.
When Nathan finally raised his head, he saw my bright blush and chuckled. "Still thinking about the diner?" he asked.
I shook my head. "I'm on vacation."
He smiled again but it was fainter this time. Then he kissed my cheek and struggled to sit up. "I'm sorry, Bree. I wish this was a vacation. I wish it was all over. Maybe then we could go somewhere together."
"El Paso?" I asked.
"I'm serious, Bree. You don't deserve to be wrapped up in this, staying in crappy motels, wondering if those men are going to find us."
I sat up and caught his arm. "Couldn't we just go to the police? It won't be easy but we're telling the truth. They'll realize that in the end and be able to help us."
Nathan yanked his arm away from me. "You know we can't do that."
I scrambled to my knees, tugging my sundress back into place. "It's the right thing to do, isn't it?"
Nathan snatched up a pair of pants and pulled them on. "Do we really have to go over this again? You brought up the police first thing this morning."
"And you never answered me," I said.
"I thought I made it clear when I left to get coffee. We cannot go to the police. They won't help us." He yanked a shirt over his head and ran both hands through his still-damp hair.
"Maybe I should go," I said.
Nathan whirled around. "Like when you left before?"
The memory of the black hood suffocating me came back, and my breath faltered. "You were right. They found me. We're better off together."
"And we are not going to talk to the police." Nathan jammed his shoes on his feet and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" I asked.
"I'm hungry. There's a vending machine down the hall." Nathan caught himself in the motel room door and took a deep breath. "Want anything?"
I shook my head and settled back on the rumpled bed. He went out, after peeking out the curtains and making sure no one was outside. Still, I shivered as he walked away and knew I wouldn't be able to relax until he was back by my side.
I felt bad for bringing up the police again. Nathan was the one with everything to lose, and I was supposed to be helping him, not driving him crazy. I had no idea what it was like for him struggling to remember what had happened, to figure out how he had gotten mixed up with those armed men.
I shivered again and caught myself. A wave of guilt hit me as I realized I found all of it exciting. The mystery of what happened to Nathan, the strange postcard, the men chasing us, all of it. I know it started out with Nathan using me because he needed a car, but now I wondered if I was using him.
No matter what, life with Nathan was better than being bored and alone, back at the diner.
Chapter Twenty-One
Nathan
Bree was still sitting on the motel room bed when I came back from the vending machines. She was picking the last of the nail polish off her fingernails, but stopped and tried to give me a bright smile. I felt my stomach clench.
She had no idea what a relief it was that she was still there, waiting for me. A relief and a burden. It was all my fault that she was living in crappy motel rooms on the run. Sure, her life back in Topeka, Kansas hadn't seemed like paradise, but anything had to be better than being stuck with me.
"Those chips are stale. Remember? We tried them when we checked in, and they were awful," Bree said.
I tossed the chips bags onto the motel room table but couldn't bring myself to take another step into the room. "I'll just run out and get us something for breakfast."
Bree clutched her stomach. "More fast food?"
"No, you're right. I'll look for a grocery store or something. Do you like bagels? Maybe there's a bakery in town," I said.
She studied my face for a minute before nodding. "Bagels sound good. Want me to come?"
I backed out the still-open door. "No, no. You just relax. I'll be back as soon as I've found something decent."
Bree stood up and smoothed down her wrinkled sundress. "Just give me two minutes to get changed, and I'll keep you company."
"No." The word popped out like a punch in the face, and Bree flinched. I struggled for a way to soften it. "Why don't you, um, watch the news? We really should be keeping on top of the headlines in case there's something that might connect to us."
"Yeah, okay," she said.
I watched her shuffle around the motel room bed, straightening the covers we had tangled up just minutes before. "Want me to look for strawberry jam? Isn't that your favorite?"
Bree gave me a weak smile. "Sounds good."
"See you soon."
I pulled the motel room door shut and swore at myself all the way to the car. Bree was there to help me. It was the only thing she wanted to do, and all I did in return was lie. I just didn't know how to tell her I recognized one of the gunmen. I hardly even knew if it was true myself.
I had no intention of going to th
e grocery store. I needed to find where they kept local archives and see if I could find that man's face again. It was a long-shot but I had to try.
I drove past a coffee shop, a bakery, and the discount grocery store before I found the small historical society. My stomach was rumbling but I promised myself I would stop on the way back and bring Bree something special. First, I had to dig into the newspaper archives. There had to be something there, some headline with a photograph, something to explain how I knew that gunman's face. If I could find it again, maybe the connection I had to those men would be clearer and I would finally know what to do.
I hadn't lied to Bree about wishing it was over. All I wanted was to be able to take her away on a real vacation.
The volunteer historian looked startled when I walked in the doors. "Can I help you?"
"Computers? I want to search the newspaper archives," I said.
The thin man gave a dry laugh. "Sorry, man. We've got computers but if it's newspaper archives you want, you've got to go through the microfilm."
"Microfilm?"
He jumped off his stool and waved me to follow him. Far in the back corner of the small museum’s book collection, he showed me a row of giant gray boxes. "These magnify the microfilm. Just twist the big knob to move back and forth. Newspapers are archived by date and location."
I glanced at the endless filing cabinets and sighed. "Thanks."
"Want any help?" The thin volunteer looked around and gave another dry laugh. "Not like there's anyone else around."
"I would but I'm not sure what I'm looking for yet," I said.
He snorted. "Well, good luck."
I watched him settle back on his stool and restart the movie he was watching on his computer. Then I turned to the filing cabinets and took my chances. The first microfilm I pulled out was the local papers from El Paso, Texas. It took a minute to thread it correctly, then I sat down and started scrolling.
Five minutes in and I realized what an impossible task I had set myself. Scanning every newspaper photograph in the hopes of seeing that man's face again was never going to work. I had to narrow down my search.
