Drew eases to a stop in front of the Grand Royal. The car skids a few feet, but finally settles.
I peer over at him in the darkness. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to drive home?”
“I’ll be fine.” He shrugs. “Besides, I don’t see that I have much choice.”
“I could put you up here for the night.”
He looks at me, one eyebrow raised.
Ooh, he probably thought I meant in my room. Which definitely wasn’t my intent. “I mean, I could pay for your room. It’s the least I can do after all, well, um, just everything.”
He smiles. “Thanks. I appreciate the concern, and the offer, but I’ll be okay. I’ve been driving in this stuff almost every year for the last twenty years. If I go slow, I’ll make it fine.”
And on that awkward note, it’s time for me to get out.
I reach for the door handle. “Thanks for the ride.”
Not to mention everything else, but the words won’t form. Besides, I get the feeling he already knows.
ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ ᴂ
The alarm jars me awake.
Another dreamless night. Or maybe I dreamed, but simply didn’t remember it.
Either way, I’m no closer to finding out who I really am.
I stare at the ceiling. No emotion courses through me. In fact, I feel numb. Will this ever end?
On the upside, without the interruption of nightmares, I feel more rested than I have since before I can remember.
I push back the covers. I only have about an hour before Drew picks me up.
Not even the hot shower makes me feel alive.
Instead, I feel like I’m drifting through life. No purpose, no identity, and no one who really cares about me. Not the real me, anyway.
I swing by the espresso stand on the first floor and order a coffee and a bagel to go. Neither sparks any memories or feels the least bit familiar. By the time I reach the main doors, Drew’s car is idling at the curb.
Dang. I should’ve thought to buy an extra coffee for him.
Even though I don’t know how he takes it.
The clear skies and white landscape nearly blind me as I step into the crisp morning air. The roads have been plowed but still look slick, in sharp contrast to the perfectly cleared sidewalk in front of the Grand Royal.
I wonder if it’s heated.
I slide into the passenger seat and turn to him. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d have time to finish these before you got here. Is it okay for me to have these in here?”
He grins. “No problem. If I’d been thinking, I would’ve met you for breakfast so you didn’t have to eat on the go.”
I set the cup in the cup holder by my elbow. “And if I’d been thinking, I would’ve at least picked up something for you.”
“I already ate.”
My stomach whines and I devour my bagel.
Drew doesn’t try to carry on a conversation while I eat. The stereo plays in the background, something with gritty vocals and a driving rock beat.
I follow the last bite with a swig of coffee before looking over at him. “You know, I would’ve expected you to listen to church music.”
His chuckle tells me that he finds the statement amusing, although I’m not sure why.
“Oh yeah? And just what does church music sound like?”
I have no idea. Once again, blank slate where my mind should be. “I don’t know. Uh… slow and boring, I guess.”
“Not all Christian music is like that. There’s actually quite a bit that rocks pretty hard. In fact, if you listen…” he pauses just in time for the guy singing to say something about God, “you can hear the heart of Christ in the words.”
The music has a good sound.
I don’t know what kind of music I listened to before, but I know I like this.
Even if I’m not on board with the message behind the beat.
“You know, if you ever wanted to just check it out for yourself, I attend a pretty good church. Nice people, good music. I think you’d like it.”
Somehow sitting on a hard pew in a dusty building for hours on a Sunday morning just doesn’t sound like fun.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” I glance his direction to make sure I haven’t made him mad.
Although I’ve yet to see Drew get angry about anything, there’s a first time for everything.
In fact, he doesn’t look surprised by my answer. “Well, open-ended invitation if you change your mind.”
I’m sure I won’t, but I nod anyway. “Thanks.”
“You look good today, by the way. Well rested.”
“I slept really well. No nightmares.”
He turns onto a residential street. “Well, if a good cry is all you need to sleep well, consider my shoulder open any time.”
“See, a good night’s sleep is a two-edged sword. Most of my significant memories seem to come back in dreams. But if I dream I don’t sleep as well.” And usually don’t fall back to sleep either.
“Hmm. Maybe I should be praying that your memories come back another way.”
I’d settle for them coming back period, no matter how it happens.
I turn my attention to the landscape sliding by outside the window. The houses on either side of us are modest in size, but appear well-maintained.
Drew turns into the driveway of a nondescript beige house that blends with the homes on either side of it.
Only one car sits in the driveway, a white four-door with more dents than paint. I’m guessing it’s Sam’s, although I’ve never seen his car to know for certain. It appears we beat both Zak and Malachi here.
Drew pushes open his door.
The air bites me as I step out into the frigid morning. Wrapping my arms around my midsection, I try to trap in as much of my body temperature as possible, but it feels like a losing battle.
At least it should be warm inside the house. The knowledge helps motivate my frozen legs to carry me to the door.
The doorbell echoes.
For several seconds, there’s nothing but the distant static of traffic several blocks away.
The door swings open and there’s Sam. His blond hair sticks out in a variety of angles, not carefully spiked as he usually wears it. Rings sag beneath both red-tinged eyes and a welt trails down his cheek. His short-sleeved shirt reveals bruises on his un-casted arm.
Last night was obviously not much better than the night before it.
I manufacture an upbeat tone. “You ready to do this?”
Sam’s eyes dart behind us as though he expects his father to materialize there. “I’ve been thinking, and–”
“No.” Drew’s tone is firm. “You aren’t backing out of this.”
“Dad just has these moods. It’ll get better. It always does.”
It hurts to think how many of these moods Sam has had to endure over the years. “Oh yeah? Before or after he kills you?”
Sam’s eyes narrow. “He won’t. You don’t know him.”
Okay, so maybe my usual sarcasm wasn’t the best response in this case. I soften my tone. “Sam. Look what he’s already done. You need to put some space between you.”
“She’s right.” Drew sets his hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have to be afraid to come home.”
Sam glances around. “I dunno. Dad would be so mad.”
“That’s why you won’t tell him where you are. Leave him a note telling him you’re moving out, but don’t say where.”
Behind us, Zak’s truck rumbles to the curb. I’ve grown accustomed to the sound enough to know that it’s him.
Sam’s gaze lingers there for the space of several breaths.
“Come on, man. Don’t make me tie you up and drag you out by your hair.”
A smile flits across his face like a ghost, there one second and gone the next. He sighs. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”
It’s not as enthusiastic as I would’ve liked, but at least he’s leaving.
Hopefully the enthusiasm will come lat
er.
Another low hum sounds behind me and I turn to see Malachi’s Mustang sidle up to the curb. Okay, the whole gang’s here.
Zak crosses the frozen lawn, his shoes leaving massive holes in the fresh snow.
“Hey, Zak. How’s Carina?”
His smile consumes his face. “Amazing. Great. I-I can’t believe it. She knows who I am and remembers, well, everything. Except the accident, which is good.”
“Is she still in the hospital?”
“For now. The doctors are blown away. They say there’s no sign of brain damage. It’s like she was asleep and then just woke up. They’ve never seen anything like it.”
Malachi claps Zak on the back. “Never underestimate the power of God, my man.”
Zak shakes his head slowly. “After yesterday, well, there might be something to your whole God thing after all.”
A breeze whips up and a shiver shudders through my body.
Sam blinks. “Sorry. You’re freezing.” He steps aside and gestures for us to enter.
Warmth bleeds through the chill in my bones. I blow on my frozen fingers and look around the living room.
Somehow, I’d expected piles of empty beer bottles, overflowing ashtrays, and clutter, but the place is neat and clean.
Obsessively so.
Brown leather sofa with two matching recliners, glass coffee table, big screen TV and not a trace of dust that I can see.
Sam leads the way through the living room and down a short hall. The room at the end turns out to be a bedroom, also compulsively clean. He stops in the middle of the room and lifts his shoulders, looking slightly lost. “I–I didn’t really have time to pack anything.”
“That’s okay.” Drew glances around. “I brought some boxes. Let me go get them out of my trunk and we’ll get started.”
Malachi and Zak follow, but I stay put. It’s cold out there and besides, how many people does it take to carry in a few boxes anyway?
Sam appears to have barely noticed the departures. “I don’t really have that much stuff.”
“It’s going to be okay.”
He looks at me, desperation lingering in his eyes.
“Really. Trust me when I say that living a life ruled by fear is no life at all.”
For the first time since I woke up in the back of that car, I feel like someone really, truly understands. There’s a knowledge in his eyes, a sympathy, that makes me want to cry. Whether it’s for him or myself, I don’t know.
“You really don’t know why someone wants you dead?”
“No.”
Footsteps behind us prevent any further conversation. Thankfully. Being hunted isn’t something I like to dwell on.
While Drew, Zak, and Malachi haul out bigger items like the bed and nightstand, Sam and I work on packing up his clothes. I take the things hanging in the closet and he unloads drawers.
“If you can’t remember anything, how do you know someone’s out to get you?”
I glance over at him before reaching for another shirt. “Because that’s where my memories begin. I was tied up in a car and two guys were discussing shooting me or dumping me off a bridge.”
Zak, Drew, and Malachi come back while we’re talking, but I’m no longer worried about them hearing these things.
Especially since two of them already know. Malachi doesn’t, I don’t think, but there’s something completely trustworthy about him. In fact, he’s the kind of guy I’d almost expect to take a bullet protecting me.
“Whoa.” Sam pauses his one-handed packing. “How’d you get away?”
For some reason, I hesitate to tell him that I dislocated my thumb and slipped out of the handcuffs. It seems shady and the last thing I need is to give anyone here a reason to suspect me. “I managed to get my hands free and jumped out of the vehicle.”
“Man, that’s intense.” He’s looking at me with wide eyes and a slightly awed expression. “You’re pretty awesome.”
Yeah. With no memory and a shady past, I feel awesome all right. “You do what you have to do to survive. Which is why you can’t stay here.”
He nods and cleans out another drawer.
Malachi grabs several of the empty drawers while Zak and Drew grab the boxes we just filled.
“I wish I could help.” Sam watches as Drew exits the room with a box. “I mean, it’s my stuff and I’m pretty useless.”
“Hey, you aren’t useless. Have you packed up your bathroom? You know, toothpaste, shampoo, that kind of thing?”
Sam shakes his head as he reaches for an empty box. “I’ll do it now.”
He walks from the room and I look around. Well, the dresser is ready to go.
I place my hands inside, bracing them against the underside of the top, and lift. Not too bad. It’s old, a little heavy, and very awkward, but I can get it.
I shuffle it into the hallway and make it to the living room before practically running Drew over.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His tone is playful and he gently bumps me to the side before picking up the dresser with a lot less trouble than I was having. “It’s not a crime to ask for help, you know. You might try it sometime.”
Do I look totally weak or something? “If I’d needed help, I would’ve asked.”
“Sure you would.” He tosses the words over his shoulders as he crosses the living room, leaving me standing at the mouth of the hallway.
I guess I’ll grab a box. Unless Drew decides that’s too big for a puny little girl like me.
I spin and almost run into Sam, who stands behind me, his good arm wrapped around a small box.
He studies me for a second with eyes that remind me of a basset hound’s.
A small sigh slips from him “Even if you didn’t have the memory thing, there wouldn’t be any chance for us, would there?”
Probably not, but I’m not sure where he got that. I tilt my head. “What makes you think that?”
His gaze strays to the doorway that Drew just exited. “He’s a good guy.”
He steps around me and shuffles for the front door, shoulders slumped, head down.
What just happened?
And what does it have to do with Drew being a good…
Wait a second.
Sam can’t possibly think I have a thing for Drew, can he? I barely know the guy. I barely know any of them.
Part of me wants to laugh. This is crazy.
Me and Drew? The amnesiac who doesn’t think she believes in God and a pastor. All that’s missing is a catchy punchline.
Whatever. I have bigger issues than what Sam thinks is going on in my personal life.
And if this gets him to move on to someone else, I’m all for it.
I grab a box from Sam’s room and take it outside, passing Drew on the way. To his credit, he doesn’t take this load from me.
Evidently it’s small enough for someone like me to carry.
Within five minutes, everything is loaded.
Sam stands by a round kitchen table and fingers a sheet of notebook paper.
Although I can see writing scrawled across it, I’m not close enough to read the words. With any luck, he told his dad exactly why he left and what actions his dad needs to take if he wants to maintain any kind of relationship.
He moves like he’s going to set it down, only to jerk the note away from the table before it makes contact.
The paper trembles in his hand.
He looks at it, maybe reading it, maybe not.
After all his father has done to him, it’s somewhat amazing that he can still be so conflicted about doing what’s best for himself.
Then again, human emotions are an unpredictable beast.
Should I say something? Encourage him?
Before I can decide, the front door slams.
I’m not sure if Sam jumps higher or I do.
Drew crosses the room and stops next to me. “Well, we’re all loaded up and ready to go.”
Sam nods and presses the note against the ta
ble. “Let’s go.” Strain lines the words, but he doesn’t pick up the note. Instead, he brushes past us, jerks open the front door, and walks through without a backward glance.
Fourteen
Stinking Sam.
I pour another drink and hand it to a server, my eyes scanning the room for Drew. Ever since Sam brought it up earlier, I seem to be hyperaware where Drew’s concerned. Why is that?
There couldn’t possibly be any truth to Sam’s suspicions. Sure, Drew’s cute and all, but for all practical purposes, we’re still strangers.
For all I know, he’s working with the people who are trying to kill me.
I discard the idea. Completely ridiculous.
If he were working with them, I’d be dead right now.
But could Drew like me?
I don’t know how, since he doesn’t know me. I don’t know me.
Besides, I’ve been nothing but horrible to him. There’s no way he could possibly be attracted to me. No matter what Sam thinks.
Running through the interactions we’ve had only leaves me more confused. He has been overly concerned and attentive, but maybe that’s just who he is. I haven’t seen him around a lot of other people, especially women, to know if I’m any different. And if I am, who’s to say it’s not just his hero complex rising to the surface?
Another order comes in, a welcome distraction from the war waging inside my head.
I blend the margarita, mix the Rum and Coke, and pour two glasses of wine.
Still my thoughts won’t quiet.
And to make matters worse, Drew’s spent a good deal of time working the bar with me after giving Zak the night off to be with his sister. So not only am I hyperaware of him, he’s working closer to me than usual.
I don’t know what to do about this. Or how to feel.
One thing is certain, though. I can’t worry about this right now. I need to focus on my past. On how that past could impact my future.
Assuming I even have one.
By the time ten rolls around, I’m beat. The earlier morning, the activity, and the chaos of my thoughts have worn me down.
Drew already offered me a ride home, but maybe I’ll walk instead.
The cold air might clear my head.
Or at least numb it.
I look out the windows. Ice sparkles like glitter. Light from the strip illuminates the sky, making the darkness not seem so complete.
Shadow of the Storm Page 17
