Dead Reckoning

by Stanalei Fletcher

  “The best omelets on the east coast,” Egan said.

  Kellee followed him up the porch steps and through the front door. Wallpaper, depicting chickens—all of them in various shades of blue—covered the walls. A shelf ran the circumference above the converted living room and held a collection of blue porcelain roosters, hens, and chicks, sitting in silent observance of the diners. The aroma of breakfast drew them inside where a hostess greeted them and led them to a table. Once seated, Egan didn’t bother with the menu. When the waitress arrived, he ordered shrimp and mushroom omelets for himself and Kellee.

  A bit peeved when she wasn’t given the chance to place her own order, Kellee waited until the waitress headed toward the kitchen before whispering at Egan. “What if I don’t like shrimp?”

  He took off his sunglasses and hooked them over his T-shirt collar. He appeared much more comfortable in his casual clothes than in the jacket he’d worn yesterday. His eyes narrowed. “You love shrimp.”

  How could he possibly know that when she didn’t? “What if I don’t like mushrooms?” She belabored the subject. She didn’t want him to think he could just boss her around.

  His expression relaxed, and he almost seemed to smile. “You love mushrooms, shrimp, pizza and, for some reason you’ve never shared, pickled asparagus. So cut the crap, Kellee. You’re just pissed because I ordered for you.”

  Was she so easy to read? She unfolded the napkin onto her lap and smoothed out the creases before placing clenched hands next to her plate. “I feel like a child, not allowed to do things for myself.”

  Egan leaned forward and laid a hand on hers. “Trust me?”

  His lighthearted query was gentle, but his touch zipped along her nerves and drew her gaze to his. His eyes were the color of midnight velvet. How could she not trust him? She nodded, her appetite nearly deserting her in favor of another growing hunger.

  “Good.” He patted her hand as the waitress appeared with their water.

  She took a drink to relieve her dry throat, pleased the tremble she felt all the way to her toes didn’t show.

  A few minutes later, breakfast’s warm aroma enveloped them as the waitress set their plates on the table. The rumble in her stomach announced the return of her appetite and she picked up a fork to take a bite. Smothered in Swiss cheese, the omelet nearly melted in her mouth. The egg, tender bay shrimp, and fresh mushrooms burst over her taste buds in a symphony of flavors.

  Conversation took a back seat while she savored every bite—positive she’d never tasted anything so good in her life. Was it because she was experiencing everything new again? Or was it because she was with Egan that all her senses seemed heightened? Several minutes later, she looked at her clean plate, embarrassed that she’d eaten so fast.

  “Apparently my choice wasn’t so bad after all.” The glimmer in Egan’s eyes teased her.

  “I’m a pig.”

  “You need some meat on your bones.”

  Kellee smiled, sensing his approval.

  He finished the last of his omelet and requested a large to-go coffee from the waitress. After paying the bill, they walked to the car. “Satisfied?”

  “Very,” she said, sliding into the warm car. “I feel much better.”

  “Good, ’cause we probably won’t stop to eat again until we reach Jacksonville.” Putting on his sunglasses, he slid into his seat and started the car.

  “Is Jacksonville our last stop?”

  He shook his head. “No, but it’ll be a good place to get a late dinner.”

  “It’s a long way from my home,” she said, thinking that all this driving wasn’t getting her any closer to places where she had real memories.

  Egan frowned. “That’s the plan. The danger at home is too great.”

  Chapter Ten

  Egan steered the SUV into a parking space near the motel lobby and turned off the engine. They’d been driving for hours, caught in miles of road construction, which delayed his agenda. He was tired and was certain that Kellee was exhausted.

  During the drive, she’d pushed him for details of her past. He was torn between wanting to share what he knew and believing it was important for her to remember on her own. The last thing he wanted was to create false memories that might interfere with the real ones once they began to surface. Consequently, dodging her questions had caused their conversation to dwindle to tension-filled short answers. It didn’t help his mood any that her scent and restless shifting permeated his defenses, reminding him just how desirable a woman she’d become.

  “Stay put,” he said, pocketing the keys. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  “I’d like to get out and stretch,” she said.

  “No,” he said firmly. “I won’t be long.”

  Her request was reasonable. A steady rain had accompanied the drive most of the way to Jacksonville and the fresh night breeze would be a welcome change from the car’s circulated air. Except he didn’t want Kellee exposed to more security cameras. Maybe he was being overly cautious, but he had no idea who might gain access to any of the video feeds they’d passed. Until they reached his boat, they were still on the grid. No point advertising their location at every stop.

  She glared at him and reached for the door handle. “What’s the big deal? This is no different from when we stopped to eat.”

  She was right, but he had to make hard choices about what information to withhold to avoid worrying her. Ultimately, he hadn’t told her the restaurants he’d selected didn’t have surveillance. Maybe he should have said something so she’d understand just how vulnerable they were.

  He leaned across to her side of the car and caught her wrist before she could open the door. “Damn it Kellee, open that door and I’ll—”

  Her face was only inches from his. “You’ll what? Cuff me to the door? I’m sure you have something in your bag to tie me down.”

  Her ragged breath caressed his cheek. Angry eyes flashed with a stubbornness he admired as much as it frustrated him.

  A flicker of awareness skimmed over her face.

  His gaze strayed to her mouth. The tip of her tongue moistened her lower lip, and involuntarily his thigh muscles clenched. He didn’t want this lust crashing through him. Not now. Not ever. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m not going to tie you up.” He let go and moved to his side of the car—putting distance between them. “Please. Stay in the car.”

  Her lips parted and eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Please?”

  She might not remember, but he knew all his precautions would start to become oppressive for her. She was already resisting his rules. “Please, Kellee,” he repeated.

  To his relief, she released the handle and folded her arms. Egan exited the car and secured it with the remote fob before entering the motel lobby. She showed compliance now, but he didn’t want to press his luck.

  ****

  He’d locked her in again! Kellee slammed her fist against the window. Why did she keep giving in to his persuasion?

  Closing her eyes, she leaned against the seat. Her face was still hot from their close encounter. She hadn’t mistaken the glitter of desire in his eyes before he’d shuttered it away almost as quickly as it had flared. Butterflies beat at the walls of her stomach, and she wrapped her arms across her middle to quiet them.

  His polite appeal had blazed through her, so different from yesterday when he’d practically shoved the rules down her throat. Why switch tactics now? Whatever his reason, it worked. The urge to fight him had given way to a warm stirring she couldn’t ignore.

  Last night, she’d remembered her teenage crush. What she felt now was different. Way more than a girlish crush. She cared about Egan. A lot. If she was in imminent danger, what if simply being with her put him at risk? Someone had already died because of her. She didn’t want Egan hurt too.

  Closing her eyes, she buried her face in her palms. When would this stupid nightmare end? Surely she had a life waiting? Her employer must be short-handed. They might not even know
she was alive. Collins was a private investigation firm. Would they try to search for her? She should at least let them know she was okay. Then again, if Egan was right about the threat, maybe it was best if everyone thought she was dead. Right?

  Egan said her father ran a private security firm. If that was the type of work she enjoyed, why didn’t she work for her dad? Was it because Egan worked there? Had she left to avoid breaking a rule about office romances? If so, why had she moved all the way to Florida for another job?

  Too many questions and no answers. It made her head hurt. For now, she should make the best of the situation. Dropping her hands, she leaned forward and stared out the window. A light drizzle ran in rivulets down the glass, catching the motel’s neon lights in a cheery gleam that belied her mood. The way Egan kept his distance, it was clear she was only an assignment to him. While they ran from shadows, his protective instincts would remain high. He’d never allow himself to see her as a woman.

  But what about when they stopped running? Once they were at his hideaway, it would be just the two of them. Alone. They wouldn’t have to keep looking over their shoulders. He could relax. His mixed signals indicated he had some interest in her. What could it hurt to find out how far that interest went? They were both adults—with mature desires.

  She might not have all her memories back, but she was fully capable of making choices and living with the consequences. She smiled to herself, feeling a measure of resolve. If this was going to be the start of her new life, then she’d live it on her terms.

  Egan walked out of the office and toward the car. She composed herself. If he even guessed she was thinking of a seduction, he’d probably lock her in the bathroom all night.

  He got in the SUV without saying a word and drove to a parking spot near the exit, just like the night before. Kellee gathered her few belongings to carry to the room and got out of the SUV. How pathetic that everything in her life had been reduced to fit in a single backpack. If she was going to convince Egan she wasn’t a charity case, she needed more clothes. Something in her size that fit better and offered a hint of skin.

  “Can we go shopping tomorrow?” She waited for him to open the motel door.

  Egan hesitated, the key poised in his hand. “For what?”

  “Clothes.” Before he could nix the idea, she added, “I appreciate the things you bought me, but I don’t have enough to last more than a couple of days. After tomorrow, I’ll have to sit around in a towel to do laundry.”

  His lips thinned. The muscle in his cheek twitched. “Maybe.” Turning, he unlocked the door and walked into the room.

  Kellee smiled to herself. She’d gained an inch. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. Maybe conquering his resistance wouldn’t be so hard after all.

  She followed him inside and noticed two queen-sized beds. The smile fled from her face. Had there been one bed, she’d have tried to talk him into sharing. Then again, judging by Egan’s uncompromising face, he would have slept on the floor again. At least on the other bed, he’d be closer. Her heart raced a little faster at the thought of sneaking under his covers.

  Egan dropped his rucksack on the bed closest to the door and nodded at the other one. “You’re sleeping on that one.”

  “Why?”

  “The rules, remember? I stand between you and everything else out there.”

  They were back to that again. “That wasn’t one of the rules,” she argued. Would this never end? “This is absurd! We’re running, but what if no one is really chasing us? We haven’t encountered anything so far.” She gestured beyond the motel room walls.

  “If it was safe, your father would have contacted me using a special number we set up. Since he hasn’t, I have my orders to keep you out of sight.” Rubbing a hand along the back of his neck, he looked at her. “But feel free to share anything you remember, because right now, all we have is a big black hole. Until then, you’re stuck with my rules.”

  It circled back to her amnesia. And the man she might have killed. The thought soured her stomach and doused the spark of desire in her chest. “Fine. As soon as I remember something, I’ll tell you.”

  Egan continued to rub his neck, looking exhausted. She felt guilty for pushing him. “I’m sorry I’m such a pain. I’ll get ready for bed.”

  “Apology accepted.” He gestured toward the bathroom. “Ladies first.” Then he picked up the TV remote and clicked it on.

  Feeling appropriately dismissed, she hooked her backpack over her shoulder and walked into the bathroom. Five minutes later, she climbed in her bed and turned off the lamp on the nightstand between the beds.

  Egan left the TV on while he took his turn in the bathroom. The channel was set to an old movie about a Russian submarine. The sound of a men’s chorus, robustly singing the Soviet national anthem, filled the small motel room. It was a proud song, filled with confidence and daring. It was fiction.

  Kellee had reality to deal with. She was a refugee without a home and a memory like a sieve. Unable to focus on the movie, she rolled onto her side and stared at the closed curtains. What was out there? When would her life be normal again? Would she even recognize normal when it came?

  On the TV, the song faded to dialogue. Exhaustion won the battle. Egan hadn’t come out of the bathroom before sleep claimed her.

  ****

  Egan awoke cursing under his breath at both the interruption to his sleep and at the inappropriateness of the erotic dream that starred the boss’s daughter. His hand automatically slipped under the pillow and curled around his Glock’s grip.

  Years of survival training had taught him the value of knowing what lay hidden in unfamiliar corners and he’d left on the bathroom light. He scrutinized the shadows, searching for the noise that had awakened him. The room was clear. Nothing out of place.

  Then he heard the noise again. Kellee.

  Her bed was three feet away, close enough to see her erratic and shallow breathing. Aware he was only wearing sweatpants, he waited a moment for the effect of his dream to ease before he sat up.

  Her head pitched from side to side. “No,” she mumbled and rolled onto her side, facing him. A frown marred her angelic face. She muttered something else he didn’t catch and rolled onto her back. Her arms shot out, swatting the air with frantic urgency. “Stay away.” She didn’t shout, but her voice was resolute.

  Uncertain about waking her, he left the gun under his pillow and leaned toward her. The dream could be her subconscious trying to heal itself. If so, he shouldn’t interrupt the process.

  She’d been through so much. The devastating storm and subsequent evacuation were bad enough, but her personal trauma was worse. Amnesia and a dead body would have brought a lesser person to their knees. He had to concede she might’ve killed that man in her apartment—but in self-defense. Of that, he was certain. He hated to think of the emotional upheaval she’d be forced to deal with if it turned out to be true.

  “No—Nooo!”

  Enough. He couldn’t take any more and shot off the bed.

  He stood, wondering how to wake her, when she sat up. Her wide eyes were glazed with a look of terror that fisted around his heart. “Kellee.” He sat beside her and reached out.

  Before he could touch her, she grabbed his wrist and pinned it in a painful lock.

  He realized her reaction was an instinctual defense technique, countered the move, and tried to ease her against the pillows.

  She gave a startled yelp and shrank away.

  “Kellee,” he said calmly. “Kellee. It’s me, Egan. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

  Her wild look didn’t change at first. Then the fear gradually faded from her eyes.

  “Egan?” Her whisper trembled as she recognized him.

  He nodded and let go of her.

  She threw herself into his arms, barely giving him time to catch her. A cry escaped, then another. Her body racked with sobs. Hot tears spilled onto his chest.

  As much as he hated any woman’s tears, this wa
s worse because it was Kellee sobbing as though her heart would burst. He gathered her close. Rage against all that she’d gone through burned in his gut. He wanted to rip apart the bastards who had brought her to this, and at the same time shield her from every bad thing in the world. Powerless to do either, he simply held her.

  Her fingers dug into his shoulders. Round, firm breasts pressed against his chest. The smell of shampoo and flesh blended in a scent uniquely hers. He’d wanted to provide comfort, but her tender warmth crept through him, building to a heated desire. It was all he could do to keep from reliving his erotic dream.

  As her sobs diminished, she leaned away.

  Egan took a breath to cool his libido and gently brushed the hair out of her face. “Hey.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “That must have been some nightmare.”

  Tears welled in her eyes again, but she blinked, fighting them back.

  “I’m sorry I woke you.” Her soft voice wavered with apology.

  “Don’t be. Are you okay if I get up for a minute?” he asked.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Not far. I’ll be right back.” Leaning over, he turned on the bedside lamp, then went into the bathroom and returned with a fistful of tissues. He held them out as he sat beside her.

  “Thanks.” Taking them, she blew her nose.

  The unladylike sound brought a smile to his lips. Even when training, sweating hadn’t embarrassed her. Her total lack of self-consciousness was as refreshing as it was genuine.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “I don’t know if I can.” She shuddered.

  “If you remember something from the dream, it might be useful. But if you’re not ready, don’t force it.” He detested feeling so helpless, but he wouldn’t push. Her safety and well-being came first. That was the reason he had been hired. Find her. Hide her. Above all, protect her.

  Like he should have protected his brother. Instead, he’d failed and Rory was dead.

  He wouldn’t fail with Kellee. He couldn’t.

  Glancing at his watch, he saw it was just a little after midnight. They’d had couple of hours’ sleep. There was still enough time to get some decent rest before their early start on the last leg of their journey.