Silent Memories

by Pat White

  You’re one smart woman, Annie Price.

  Sean’s voice…echoed in her head, just before he’d kissed her. His lips, soft and full, pressed gently against hers.

  She gasped at the memory, so real and intense. And now lost.

  “Sean,” she choked, wanting answers about who he was and what they were to each other.

  “Not again,” a man’s voice moaned.

  She clutched the washcloth between trembling fingers and stared into her reflection. She must have imagined—

  “No…no more.”

  She raced to the bed. His eyes were glassy, perspiration beaded across his forehead. Perspiration?

  “Please,” he moaned.

  The guttural plea crept up from his chest and touched her heart. He was still alive.

  “Don’t hit me.” His voice cracked like that of a young boy’s.

  His brain was pickled in some kind of hallucinogenic drug.

  Experiments. She remembered. It took time for chemicals to work their way through an organism’s system. The drug could have only gone so far in fifteen or so minutes.

  She grabbed him by the shoulders. “Get up!”

  His head lolled to the side.

  “Fight!” she demanded. “You’re so damn big.”

  She pulled him into a sitting position and shook his shoulders. “I’m not done with you!”

  He had to expel the drug from his system.

  “Get up. Don’t you give up!”

  Moaning, he got to his feet. Shouldering his armpit, she led him to the bathroom.

  “They’ve beaten you. They’re winning because you don’t have the guts to fight back.”

  She hoped her bitter words would keep him moving. If she sensed one thing about him, it was his determination to beat the enemy.

  “You know what Hatch called you?” she taunted.

  Only four more steps to the bathroom.

  “He called you a worthless piece of trash.”

  “Trash… Eddy said… Don’t…no more,” he mumbled.

  “He said you’re a gutless, weak, stupid man. Is that what you are, MacNeil? Are you stupid?”

  “Not stupid… I’m not stupid, Eddy.” Something flashed in his eyes and she didn’t care who Eddy was as long as the memories made him take one more step.

  He stumbled across the threshold of the bathroom and crumpled to the faded vinyl floor. She collapsed, as well, exhausted from supporting the weight of a well-built man. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, searching her mind for a way to purge the drug from his system.

  She went to the bureau and rummaged through his bag. She fingered a travel-sized bottle of shampoo. Memories flashed across her mind. Swallowing shampoo so she could blow bubbles from her mouth. Her throat burned as the shampoo came back up. That’s it, she needed to make him gag. His body would do the rest.

  She went into the bathroom, knelt beside him and tipped his head back.

  “Not again!” He swung his arms in self-defense and the back of his left hand smacked her in the head. Her temple stung where he’d caught her with his silver ring.

  The dull throb shot anger through her, making her more determined than ever to save this man and find Mom.

  Straddling him, she tipped his head back, pinched his nose and emptied the small bottle of blue liquid into his mouth. He coughed and shoved at her with more force than she thought he had left. She slid back across the vinyl floor. He gagged, lurched forward and retched into the toilet bowl. A few minutes later, he moaned.

  She should go to him. Rub his back or get him a cool washcloth.

  She didn’t move. Touching the man was not a good idea. She needed him for information, that’s all. She didn’t care what happened to him after that. Why should she? He didn’t care about her.

  He retched again, then went still. She thought he might have passed out. Instead, he groaned and looked up at her. Confusion colored his bloodshot eyes.

  “You…you came back for me.”

  Chapter Five

  Her heart pounded against her chest as his eyes pinned her in place. It sounded as if—

  He coughed again and leaned over the porcelain bowl. She sprung to her feet, anxious to get away and wipe the intensity of his words from her heart.

  Closing the bathroom door, she paced to the window.

  You came back for me.

  His words tied her stomach in knots. He said them with such relief, such love in his eyes.

  No! In his drugged state, anything he said shouldn’t surprise her. He probably had her confused with an old girlfriend. She bet he’d had quite a few of those. But Annie wasn’t one of them—not a real one, anyway. He’d used her. That was clear.

  Now it was her turn. All she needed was her mother’s name and phone number. Not his protection, not his help and definitely not his love.

  Especially not his love.

  She pushed aside the worn curtain and bit back the hollowness in her chest. She wished she could remember, clear the cobwebs and regain the ability to distinguish her friends from her enemies.

  Sean clearly fit into the latter category. The last twenty-four hours proved his goal was to use her to obtain information about the man named Raymond, her guardian. That’s all. Sean’s interest in her was strictly professional.

  Her interest, on the other hand, was personal. This was her life they were messing with: Sean, Zinkerman, Hatch and his partner.

  Stay focused. Find Mom. Then she’d reconstruct her memory and move on, away from this nightmare and away from Sean.

  The bathroom door squeaked open, and she turned. He leaned against the doorjamb, running a washcloth along the back of his neck. His chest heaved in and out. He tipped his head back and ran the cloth across his stubbled jaw.

  Fascinated, she watched the sheer masculinity of a man who only seconds ago had been crumpled like a pile of mush on the bathroom floor.

  “How do you feel?” she said to be polite. It wasn’t as if she cared. She wanted him to get enough of his wits back to give her the information she needed. She crossed her arms over her chest to steel herself from her body’s response to him.

  “A little dizzy,” he muttered.

  If Sean could get to the bed and lie down for a few minutes, maybe he could get his bearings back. He took a step and his knees buckled. He started to go down but something gripped his arm, supporting him.

  Annie.

  She came back for him.

  Every muscle in his body felt like mush as he sank into the mattress, his mind fogged from remnants of the drug. He struggled to open his eyes, his lids heavy and tight. Annie’s presence filled the room. Her body set off an awareness he couldn’t comprehend. She’d had that effect on him since the first day he’d seen her, peering into a microscope and tapping her foot.

  “How did you get here?” he asked. “Where’s Hatch?”

  “He’s lying in the woods up the road.”

  “What?” He sat up, grabbing his head to stop the spinning.

  “I clubbed him,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “You what!”

  “How else was I going to get away? Ask for the car keys?”

  She stared him down, arms folded across her chest. She was different somehow. But one thing hadn’t changed: she was their best lead to Raymond Phelps.

  “We’ve gotta go,” he said, planting his feet to the floor. It tilted sideways and he wasn’t sure what would happen if he tried to stand.

  “We are not going anywhere,” she said.

  His gaze shot up to meet her cold, defiant eyes. Yep, something had definitely changed.

  “I came back for my mom’s address,” she said. “That’s it.”

  Her words sliced his heart. He should have known. She didn’t care about him, not after Hatch had spit out the truth.

  Even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

  “You’re not safe. I need to protect you,” he said.

  “Like you protected me before? By seducing me? T
hat is what you did, isn’t it?”

  Her words hung in the air between them. How could he deny it?

  “It’s not that simple,” he said.

  “Did you or did you not set out to make me fall in love with you?”

  “If you fell in love, that was your own fault.” He stretched his neck.

  “Well, that justifies it, doesn’t it? What was I, some kind of idiot?”

  “No.”

  “I get the feeling I was gullible and trusting. Am I right?”

  “More or less.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Damn, if the room would only stop spinning.

  “And you used that trust to get close to me.”

  “More or less.”

  “Wonderful. I can hardly wait to remember the rest.” Tapping her foot, she glanced at the ceiling, then at Sean.

  His heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t like that, darlin’. We had more, much more.

  “I need to find Mom,” she said. “Surely you can understand that.”

  He looked away. He understood all right. Just not from personal experience. Hell, neither of them would have any future experiences if they didn’t get out of here.

  “We’ve got to go. Help me up.” He extended his hand, not daring to look into her eyes. He couldn’t stand the gleam of hatred that burned there.

  “Where’s my mom?” she said, refusing to help him.

  “Annie, we have to get you safe. Then we’ll talk about your mom.”

  “I’ll be safe with Mom.”

  “Don’t be a fool.” He hated the sound of his voice, but couldn’t control the panic that settled low in his gut. “You think she can protect you from these men?”

  “That depends. I don’t even know who ‘these men’ are.”

  “We don’t have time for this.”

  “Where does my mom live? I want her phone number.”

  “That’s the first place they’ll look. Don’t you get it?”

  “I’m not the one who nearly died just now,” she said.

  She was right. He had nearly died, but she had saved his life. He pushed to his feet and swayed. “We’ve got a problem,” he said.

  “Just one?”

  He started for the door and grabbed his bag. With a hand on the doorknob, he paused to get his balance.

  “I don’t know how Hatch found us,” he said. “Unless he’s got someone working inside the Bureau. Which means we can’t trust anyone but each other.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  Her cynical tone cut through him like a knife.

  “Let’s go.” He pulled open the door.

  “Not until you tell me where Mom is.”

  “Don’t push me, Annie. I’m all you’ve got right now.”

  “That goes both ways. The way I understand it, I’ve got something up here—” she tapped the side of her head with her two fingers “—that you want.”

  “Not in your present state you don’t.”

  “Then let me go.”

  “Can’t do that. It’s my job to protect you.”

  She glared at him, her eyes making it clear how she felt about needing his protection. A part of him wished he had to deal with the old Annie: naive and trusting and definitely not this damn stubborn.

  “Does my mom live around here?” she pushed.

  He glanced into the parking lot. She couldn’t have clubbed Hatch that hard and if the jerk made his way back, they were both dead.

  “Get in the damn car,” he ordered.

  “No.”

  His temper brewed. Couldn’t she see he was trying to help her? No, they never did. And they always came back for more. She’d probably end up running back to Raymond and his thirty-room mansion and servants.

  Over Sean’s dead body. The only place Raymond was going was to prison. And if Annie didn’t cooperate with the FBI, she was going with him.

  “This is the last time I’m asking you to get in the car,” he said, his voice more controlled than he thought possible.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  His next move was an ugly one, but she left him no choice.

  He dropped the bag and closed the distance between them, pushing aside the buzzing in his ears. He got within an inch of her, backing her against the wall. His heart skipped at the fear in her eyes, fear tempered with defiance.

  “Do you really want to mess with me?” he said.

  He was so close he could make out the dark ring of gray trimming her clear blue eyes. Her lips, pursed in a thin line, trembled only slightly.

  “Do you know what I could do to you?” he threatened, not knowing how else to get her into the car and away from danger. “Remember how terrified you were when I broke down the bathroom door? I’ll do whatever it takes to do my job. Never forget that.”

  Acid swirled in his gut, eating away at his stomach lining. But he knew the truth behind his threats. Although this was an act to scare her into submission, he knew a vein of violence ran deep and wide, waiting to consume him.

  Her tongue danced out to wet her lower lip, and all thought exploded from his mind. Damn if he didn’t want to kiss her. Her lower lip, slightly fuller than the top, beckoned to him, dared him to get a taste of its honey sweetness. A sweetness he’d sampled over and over until he’d become addicted to it. To her.

  Her purity and goodness had intrigued him, then offered redemption. That’s why he’d wanted to take her in his arms and bury himself deep.

  He balled his right hand into a fist to ease the tension in his chest. “You’re coming with me, Annie. Even if I have to carry you.”

  He recoiled at the sound of his false threat. He’d be lucky to walk out of here on his own two feet, much less carry a hundred-plus-pound woman over his shoulder.

  She glared at him, and for a minute he thought she might call his bluff. His shoulders ached with anticipation.

  Then she shoved her upturned palm at his chest.

  “Keys,” she demanded.

  “What?”

  “You’re in no condition to drive.”

  “Are you kidding? You don’t drive.”

  “How do you think I got here? Flew on my magic carpet?”

  “I didn’t think—”

  “No, you were too busy trying to get your senses back. Give me the keys.”

  He slipped them from his pocket, still trying to process the fact that she’d driven Hatch’s car. She’d always been chauffeured before, treated like royalty.

  Swiping the keys, she marched past him and made her way to the car as if his physical threat had no effect on her whatsoever.

  He noticed the determined set to her jaw as she slid behind the wheel of his rental car. That was one thing that hadn’t changed. It took amazing determination and great patience to develop the formulas she had created.

  Sliding into the car, he wondered if patience was the weapon she planned to use on him. Wear him down until he finally spilled the whereabouts of her mother. He’d have to be careful with this Annie. Although her brilliance had temporarily escaped her, she’d gained a savvy Sean hadn’t seen coming until it had smacked him head-on.

  She shoved the key into the ignition, then glanced at him.

  “I need something from you,” she said, her eyes pleading.

  God, if only that were true.

  “What do you need?” he said, his voice raw.

  “Tell me something about Mom. Give me some thing to hold on to.”

  “I can’t.”

  “I have nothing. No one.”

  She placed her hand to his shoulder, and he clenched his jaw. His resolve started to unravel.

  “I need to know she’s out there,” she said. “Give me something. A time zone? A country?”

  He felt a tug on his heart. She hadn’t forgotten how to do that.

  “Listen, you said we have to trust each other,” she said. “Tell me something about her. Help me trust you.”

  Big mistake, lady. Don’t ever trust me.

 
“Sean?”

  “Vermont. Your mom’s farm is in Vermont.”

  She cracked a smile and he realized he hadn’t seen that warm-hearted grin in a very long time. He missed it. He missed her.

  “Thanks,” she said. “Once we’re safe, you’ll take me to her, right?”

  “Sure,” he lied. What choice did he have? He needed to keep her close. Needed her to trust him. Somehow, he’d make her understand that visiting her mother wasn’t wise.

  “It’s a deal, then.” She reached out to shake his hand. He thought it an odd gesture, but one consistent with the old, naive Annie.

  He wrapped his fingers around her hand and the heat from her skin set off a slow burn in his chest.

  She tugged her hand free and cleared her throat as if she, too, felt something beyond that of a gentlemen’s agreement.

  “Where to?” she said.

  “That way,” he pointed.

  She shoved the car in Reverse and hit the gas. It jerked backward, nearly slamming into a spruce tree.

  She hit the brakes and shrugged. “First time using the backward.”

  “Reverse.”

  “Whatever. Where are we going?”

  “Someplace where no one can find us.”

  Turning the wheel, she crept onto the farm road. At this speed, they’d make it to the boat by Christmas.

  She clutched the steering wheel and accelerated to a whopping thirty-four miles per hour. The feel of a slow ride soothed his nerves. His eyelids drooped. No. He had to stay awake. Everyone was a potential enemy now. Even Annie.

  He blinked and looked at her. “I don’t suppose you remember anything?”

  “Doesn’t sound like there’s much worth remembering.”

  His heart sank. She knew she’d been used. That’s what she had accused him of doing on that cold February night just before she drove herself off a cliff. Used by the one man she thought loved her. Was it any wonder she refused to remember?

  But he had to jar something loose. They had to find the formula before it, and the dangerous virus, fell into the wrong hands. Before she fell into the wrong hands.

  “You were helping with an FBI investigation before the accident,” he prompted.

  “Tell me more about the accident. Maybe that will help.”

  He sucked in a breath. “It was dark, you were driving on a winding road. Visibility was low.”