Deja Vu (Titan World Book 0)

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Deja Vu (Titan World Book 0) Page 6

by Cristin Harber


  Walking in, Allie took a breath to slow her heart rate, and the same familiarity struck her again. Memories rushed at her, and finally, a clear one hit. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tight. One vivid picture of an old 1970s kitchen with avocado appliances stuck out in her mind. The floor was linoleum and slightly yellow tinged. Everything was very clean but straight out of the ’70s. Her hands started to shake as she followed the path that she knew would take her to the kitchen. Allie rounded the corner, and there it was. Staring back at her was the green refrigerator. Everything in this room matched what had just been in her mind.

  This was her kitchen.

  And if she was a spy, this was a CIA cleanup job—a CIA cleanup job? Cleanup job… What did that mean? Think. A team would have come in to erase her old life. Would they monitor if somebody still came into the old house? She didn’t know or couldn’t remember. Either way, she didn’t have much time. Allie tore through the house, not sure what she was looking for. But some things looked familiar, and other things were blank. Either way, this was her past-life confirmation—and it was making her heart race.

  “Calm down! Think clearly!”

  Allie went to the farthest part of the house, what had to be a guest bedroom, and methodically worked her way through each room. She noticed things that perhaps a normal person wouldn’t have noticed. For such an old house, all of the light switch covers had recently had the screws turned, as evidenced by the broken paint and occasional new screws. She wouldn’t waste time looking where other people had already been. If she had been smart and wanted to hide something, it would have been with the purpose of avoiding a professional cleanup team.

  Allie worked through the house, running her hands everywhere, checking the top of the crown molding, and pulling up the edges of the carpet that seemed a tiny bit loose. There was nothing, no clues and no answers.

  Finally, she ended up in the kitchen again. The answer had to be in this room. The linoleum floor hadn’t been pulled up and reapplied. She had checked on top of the cabinets, inside them, and as much as she could under them. There was nothing to see except for the ugly appliances that she almost liked. Maybe if she had been a spy on the run, doing who knew what, traveling who knew where, she would have found them comforting, as she did now.

  If she was going to leave a clue or an answer for herself—not that she would have known she would get amnesia—but if she was going to hide information, back up her data, or store intel, she would have done it with these ugly-ass appliances.

  There wasn’t a dishwasher, just an oven, a separate electric range top, and a refrigerator.

  She opened the fridge and ran her hands along the doors. She checked the drawers and pulled them out. Nothing. Funny—she found the kitchen most comforting, considering she couldn’t cook. There had once been a microwave in there, and it had served to cook every meal. Wait—the stove and the oven were never used. Goose bumps erupted over her skin, and she knew she was about to figure out everything.

  She pulled the coils out of the stovetop and then went to the oven beside the stove and pulled the heating elements out. Some elements were faceup, others facedown. But the answers were right there. “Holy crap.”

  She didn’t know what it meant, but that was her handwriting. Written in what appeared to be fine-point chalk that she had just smudged slightly were random words. They didn’t form sentences and didn’t make sense. But they were in her handwriting, and they were her answer.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  With the heating elements from a 1970s house gathered under her arm, Allie ran out the back door, trying carefully not to smudge any of the chalk. But she was aware now that she had a semi-photographic memory, because she could not unsee those words. The Jeep driver’s eyes were wide. It occurred to her that she should get his name, because they were about to enter a different level of their newfound relationship. Most notably, he was perhaps an accomplice.

  Balancing everything in an arm, she opened the door. “Hey, time to go.” And as best she could, she put all the metal cooking elements by her side without letting them tangle. “Don’t mind me; I will explain. By the way, my name is Allie. And yours?”

  “Not sure I signed up to be Bonnie and Clyde. I thought this was about finding your past.”

  “This is my past,” she said as way of a nonexplanation.

  “You stole somebody’s stove!”

  Allie had no idea why she did this but it was important to her once. “There’s an oven element here too. Not just the stovetop.”

  “Oh, well. If it’s the oven, too, I guess that makes a difference.” He shifted out of park.

  A white van screeched around the corner, and Allie’s eyes went straight to it. “You should go. Now. Now!”

  “Who is that?”

  “I don’t know.” But unsteady nerves gurgled in her stomach. That wasn’t just any old bad driver. It was someone on a mission to find out why she had just been in that house. “Just go!”

  “Jesus.” He shifted the Jeep into drive and slammed down the gas pedal. The SUV wasn’t made to be a speed rocket getaway vehicle, and the engine roared in angry protest before it hopped to and tried its best to catch up.

  She was far in over her head and needed to let her driver off the hook. As much as she didn’t want to trust anyone, there was one person she should try to trust again.

  “I need to call James. He’ll know what to do.” She reached for the burner phone—and realized she had no idea how to get ahold of him. “Shit.”

  The Jeep screeched around the corner. “Who are those people? Hell. Who are you, lady?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure it out. And those people don’t want me to remember. But James knows.”

  “Well, call James already,” he shouted at her as he took the next turn like a pro.

  “I don’t have his phone number. I don’t even know where he lives. All I know is that he’s a doctor at Summerland Hospital.”

  “I’ve got this. Hey, Siri—Wait, what’s the guy’s name?”

  Siri turned on and explained that she did not know who the driver was talking about.

  “His name is James Tuska,” Allie explained. “And he’s a physician at the hospital.”

  “Hey, Siri, call Summerland Hospital.” A moment later, the phone’s dial tone then ringing sounded through the Jeep’s speakers. The hospital switchboard answered.

  The driver, whom she still didn’t have a name for, did all the talking, and she was impressed by how cool under pressure the guy was and by how well he drove. While he demanded to speak to Dr. Tuska about a vague, nonexistent medical emergency, she turned over all the heating elements and tried to make sense of the words. Nothing jogged a memory; it was hopeless.

  “I’m sorry, sir. He is not available,” the operator continued to explain.

  After another back and forth, the driver left his phone number and demanded an emergency callback from Dr. Tuska, then he turned to her in the mirror. “Do you think he’ll call?”

  Allie bit her lip. “I have no idea.”

  They rounded another corner, the tires squealing in protest, as the phone rang. It buzzed in its holder, which was connected to an air vent on the front of the dashboard, so she could read the display. The call came up as an unknown number.

  Allie held her breath as the driver answered. “Hello?”

  “This is Dr. James Tuska returning an emergency phone call. Can I help you?”

  The Jeep driver looked over his shoulder, and she had one shot to either make James believe her or at least make him fess up as much of the truth as she could get him to give her. “I’ve started remembering; I’ve found things. I went to my old house. And now they’re after me!”

  “Allie?”

  “And her Uber driver,” said the man behind the wheel, “who is still at this point remaining nameless. And I can vouch for her. There are people chasing us.” He screeched around another corner.

  “Allie, where are you?�


  Her instincts told her not to say that out loud, and she shook her head. “I can’t say that over the phone.”

  “I wouldn’t either,” said the Jeep driver. “I know this area like the back of my hand, and I’m spinning them in a thousand different ways. If they can’t see me, they won’t find us. But I wouldn’t say out loud where we are. This lady’s smart. Even if she can’t remember shit.”

  “Allie,” James said with all the seriousness that she had hoped he would give this phone call. He believed her. He was going to do something or tell her something. “It is best for your safety if you stop all of this silliness.”

  Her heart tumbled as he let her down. “Please don’t say that. I don’t know what you know, but whatever it is can save my life, not just my memory.”

  They came to a stop sign, and the driver turned and looked at her. “What do you want to do?”

  She wanted to run and hide. She wanted to cry. More than that, she wanted to get angry and shout at James for not helping. But he was just a one-night stand with whom she happened to have incredible chemistry. He was her sexy doctor whom she’d pretended to love once upon a time but could see how loving him now would be entirely possible… because maybe they had more than just chemistry, and… maybe she had dreamed about more than a one night stand. “If he’s not with us, he’s against us. Hang up.”

  “Us?” The Jeep driver balked. “I’m not on your team. I’m your Uber driver.”

  Still, they sat at a stop sign in the middle of suburbia with no traffic coming either way. “You’re more than that. I don’t know your name, but you’re more helpful than the guy on the phone.” A thousand tiny stings bit into her throat at the size of that lie.

  “Not so sure after you broke into a house and stole shit.”

  “You did what?” James broke in, nearly shouting.

  “It was her house, buddy. Like the lady said, you’re either with us or against us. If you’re against us, you don’t get to ask questions. If you’re with us, you can ask questions. ’Cause I don’t know what to ask her.”

  “I found my old house, James. And I found—I can’t say it on the phone—but I found it. And I will figure out whatever it is.”

  James blew into his phone, and his frustration echoed in the Jeep. “Allie, do you know that place that was in that movie we watched? Where I said I spent time working when I needed to get away from the noise of the hospital? It’s near your house—the house I visited. Not the other one you—”

  “That she broke into,” the driver said, and she smirked.

  James ignored him. “Meet me there, and we’ll talk face to face.”

  Why did James want to go there? It didn’t matter; she needed to see him.

  “Do you want to meet him?” the driver asked. “Or do you even know what he’s talking about?”

  She did, and her pulse pounded in her throat. “Thank you, James.”

  The Jeep driver disconnected the call. “Where are we headed?”

  “Summerland U’s medical campus.”

  “The university’s med school? You got that from what he just said?”

  “Yup.”

  “This is straight out of a book. No one will ever believe me.” He flicked on his turn signal and eased on the gas, making a left turn.

  Allie had no idea what they would do there, but in the meantime, she went back to the tiny words written in chalk and tried to figure out the word puzzle she had left herself in case of emergency.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Jeep screeched away after a quick wish of good luck from the driver. Allie found herself walking from the parking lot onto the semi-busy medical campus of Summerland University. A map greeted her and easily pointed her to the academic and professional buildings that James had mentioned. After just a few turns on campus, there he was, waiting for her and leaning against the brick entryway.

  With the danger swirling around her, it was the wrong time to take a moment and appreciate how ruggedly handsome James was. Posted against the wall of the imposing medical facility with his arms crossed, he was either glaring at her or simply studying her walk up the sidewalk—she couldn’t tell which. But there was seriousness about his demeanor, protectiveness about his stance. Whether or not he was angry with her? She had no idea. Why would he be? Except for the fact that she had broken into a house and defied his “doctor’s order” to take care.

  “You showed,” Allie mumbled, unsure of where she stood with him.

  “You gave me little choice. What was I supposed to do? You said people were chasing you.”

  ***

  What was she carrying? And why was he here? Simple… he couldn’t stay away. And that had nothing to do with how smart and beautiful she was. That had to do with a sense of responsibility that he had to her safety and to her health.

  Her gaze shifted uneasily. “Who did I work for? Can you please tell me what I already know?”

  “Allie, that is not why I’m here.”

  “Then why are you here?” Her exhausted voice hit him with fear and frustration.

  “I had to make sure you were safe.” Beth had called and said Allie had attacked a section chief before going to her old house. That wasn’t the woman James knew, and he wanted to hear Allie’s side of the story.

  “I won’t be safe until I stop them. And you know who they are. It’s the CIA, isn’t it?”

  His shoulders twitched. There was so much to say yet so much he did not know. “That’s a hell of a leap, Allie—”

  “Dammit, James!”

  He dropped his voice low. “Angel.”

  “Do not be sweet to me.”

  What the hell was he going to do? They were just standing here on campus, and he could feel looks from the passersby at the odd things she held.

  “Why are you holding kitchen… stuff?” Because if this was why she’d broken into a house that she claimed was hers? Maybe they had bigger issues to deal with. If she was stealing people’s stovetops, maybe she needed to be seen by her brain trauma specialist again.

  “Don’t look at me like that. Like I’m nuts.” Allie started to back up and guarded the pieces of the stolen kitchen appliances as though they were a life preserver saving her from a crazy nightmare. “I already said you’re either with me or against me.”

  “Can you explain what you’re holding to me, then?”

  She shrugged defensively.

  “Let’s go inside. I’m not here to judge you. Just… help.”

  Relenting, Allie let him lead the way as they ducked inside the building. He casually waved at a resident that he couldn’t ignore and kept walking. They needed to get to his secure office, where they could speak in private.

  “Whoa, Doc.” A security guard he’d seen off and on for the past several years waved him down. “ID? Where’s the badge?”

  Shit. “I didn’t expect to be here today.”

  The guard shook his head. “You know the rules. No ID, no entrance. Can’t let you past this door.”

  Allie wheeled around. “Let’s go.”

  “Hang on,” James said. They needed privacy immediately, and the CIA would know where she was by now, but not necessarily in which building or room. She didn’t need to go traipsing all over campus. They needed to get into his private office now before she caused a scene. As soon as they got beyond the guard, they would be off the grid. A green zone of sorts.

  And… really, he needed time with his woman. Being by her side was killing him. Was it too red-blooded asshole male that he wanted to grab her to his chest and just feel her—sans the metal coils in her hand? “I need fifteen minutes to grab paperwork for a presentation I’d forgotten—”

  “But…” The guard tilted his head toward her. “I can’t let students up in the offices.”

  Allie painted on a megawatt smile. “I’m not. I’m his fiancée.”

  Damn it. That wasn’t going to help matters.

  “Really?” The guard’s impassive face softened. “Congrats
, Doc. I had no idea.”

  “It’s new,” James managed to say, unnerved and enthusiastic about a nonexistent engagement. Since when did so many people care about his social life? Allie tucked herself under his arm, oven pieces and all. “She is. We’re the happy couple. Though late. And I have to get upstairs.”

  The guard stepped to the side. “Nice to meet you…”

  “Corinne.” Allie beamed and bounced up to give James a lingering kiss.

  “Nice to meet you, Corinne,” the guard said, repeating her fake name as though it were the best news he’d heard all day. “ID next time, Doc, and congrats.”

  Whatever the guard said didn’t matter. Allie’s chaste kiss was like smoldering fire on James’s skin. The innocent peck could have been her stripping naked for the reaction his body had to the caress. Stiffly, he cleared his throat. “Thanks. Will do.”

  They moved down the guarded hallway, and she brushed against him. “Fiancée was quick on my tongue. Sorry if I shouldn’t have said that. Though I kind of like the name Corinne. That fell off my tongue too.”

  “You’re fine.” Hell, this woman. He’d known her for a couple of weeks, slept with her only once, but Allie was an addiction. The kiss and the title of “fiancé” did absurd things to him, lighting a craving he could barely control. He liked it. Liked her. Wanted her. Why did they have to meet like this?

  “Then why did you startle when I said we were engaged?”

  Startle? He was more enamored with each passing step. “It wasn’t a bad reaction, Allie.”

  Her cheeks pinked. “Oh.”

  And that response was a beautiful one. “The kiss was an unexpected bonus.”

  Abruptly, she turned and pressed her silky lips to his again, murmuring, “To the happy couple.”

  He opened his mouth, owning the kiss. It couldn’t be helped. She tasted like the sun, and he needed that since he’d been without her. They were the happy, turned-on, toeing-the-edge-of-danger couple. With the metal coils pressed between them, he didn’t care who walked by. It wouldn’t stop him now. James backed her against the wall and trying to keep his composure was a joke. “You have a thing about surprise kisses.”

 

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