Infinite Possibilities tsloab-2

by Lisa Renee Jones

  Pride wells inside me at the bravery of a young boy who’d been through too much, too soon in life. “What happened?” I whisper, reading his tone as a resolution, not a nightmare to follow.

  “He left. The end. And that’s where I was at today when I said it was my way. I knew standing up to my father was right, and I know hiding you and hiding you well is the answer now. The only thing my father ever taught me worth learning was that I can’t do nothing, Amy, and I can’t ignore my own instincts.”

  “Nothing is exactly what I’ve done for the past six years, Liam.”

  “No. You survived and that says a lot.”

  “That’s not enough. We’ve had this discussion.”

  “You survived until you got here, with me. Now, you can lean on me.”

  I shake my head. “No. I can’t just let you take care of me, and even if I was willing, I’m the one with the link to all of this. I’m the problem and the solution.”

  His jaw sets hard. “We can’t go to Texas.”

  “I know.” My whispered acceptance is etched in the pain of loss no longer hidden deep in my soul. I clear my throat and add, “But we can’t do this your way either and raise a child in hiding and looking around every corner.”

  “I didn’t say hide forever, but in the past twenty-four hours a lot has become clear, like the willingness of whoever this is to kill anyone they see as a threat. And the fact that for every resource I have, they appear to have their own.”

  “You mean they have money.”

  “Yes. They have money, which means we need to get underground until we figure out a fight plan.”

  “That’s not how you made it sound earlier.”

  “I’m still going to want to leave you locked away and safe.”

  “And--”

  He kisses me. “I know. I know you can’t spend your life that way. We’ll figure it out.”

  Relief and appreciation for this man who has become so much to me expands in my chest. “Where does that leave us now? What is our plan?”

  “Moving just to move is dangerous. It means more people to see you and more chances to be found, and that’s a dangerous proposition when there’s a ransom on your head as we’ve already seen. We stay here a few days, get our ducks in a row, and then we move.”

  “And we go where?”

  “Asia. I have connections there and those connections with my money will be hard to penetrate.”

  Asia. My head is spinning. “What about a new passport? I can’t travel as Amy Bensen after the private investigator ended up dead. Whoever is after me, has to know this identity.”

  “I’ll charter a plane and handle whatever paperwork that needs to dealt with.” He grabs the lapels of the robe. “We’ll end this. You have my word.”

  “We, Liam. If I’m going to another country with you, I need you to mean that this time.”

  “I meant it every time I said it, but baby, I have my own Godzillas here and there. I can’t promise--”

  “Not to be an asshole?”

  “With good intentions. Always with good intentions.”

  “Hmmmm.” I slide my hands under his shirt. “Well...I think good intentions gone bad always come with a price. I think you need to be spanked.”

  His eyes light with mischief, and I watch what’s left of the darkness in his eyes fade. “You are going to spank me?”

  “That’s right. But you have on too many clothes.”

  “Well, never let it be said that I resisted my punishment.” His lips curve and he tugs his shirt over his head. “Better?”

  “Getting there.”

  He gives me a nod and steps away from me, and it’s the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes as he begins to remove his shoes that warns me I’m the one who’s about to get spanked. I should be worried about that warning, but my earlier fear is gone. Hungrily, my gaze travels his naked, ripped torso, to land on the tattoo peeking from his unzipped pants and suddenly, it means so much more to me than ever before. It has become a symbol of the little boy who had a monster for a father and lost his mother too young but who didn’t quit.

  Affection fills me and I slide off the sink and wrap my arms around him. “You had so many reasons to fail in life and yet you became such an amazing person. I’m going to fight like you did. For me and for us.” I sink down to my knees in front of him. “I am,” I say, spreading my hand over his tattoo, “infinitely yours, Liam Stone.”

  He reaches for me and pulls me to my feet, molding me close. “Say it again,” he orders, his voice a raspy command.

  I smile at this repeating theme. “I am infinitely yours, Liam Stone.” I curl my fingers on his jaw. “Now you say it.”

  “You are infinitely mine.”

  I glower at him and he gives me a devastating smile. “Baby, I have been yours from the moment I laid eyes on you.” He unties the robe. “Shall I show you? Or are you eager to continue with the punishment?”

  “Yours, not mine. As in, no spanking.”

  His lips hint at a curve. “We'll see about that.” He reaches for his pants and slides them down his legs, and there is no question, he’s risen to the challenge of “showing me”.

  “No,” I say, pulling the robe shut. “We won’t.” But I am not afraid. I am never afraid with Liam.

  He steps up to me, his expression all dark promise and smoky sensuality. “Like I said, we’ll see about that.” He shoves the robe down my shoulders.

  I catch it at my elbows. “I’m pregnant.”

  He arches a brow. “And that means what?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I repeat.

  “We could ask Dr. Murphy if-- ”

  “We are not asking her any such thing.”

  He laughs, a deep rumble of pure sex that I feel in every part of me. “Then I guess we’ll just have to figure it out for ourselves, won’t we?”

  My sex clenches and I am horrified to realize how aroused this is making me. “Not now.”

  “I’m in no rush.” He wraps his fingers around my neck and pulls my mouth to his. “In fact, I’m all about savoring you now that you’re mine. Nice and slow, baby.”

  He kisses me and proceeds to convince me that his kind of slow is really, really good.

  * * *

  The next morning I stand in a massive closet, freshly showered and dressed in a pink silk robe, and thanks to the new products Derek’s sister had purchased for me along with the robe, my floral scented hair is blow-dried and shiny. All around me are bags filled with more items and while I’m incredibly grateful for the gifts, what really makes me smile is thinking about the way Liam had declared half the closet mine before heading to the kitchen to arrange grocery delivery from the corner store.

  Thanks to his convincing me to stay in bed with him the previous evening with a Lord of the Rings marathon he’d claimed was rich in fictional history, I feel rested for the first time in months. Of course, me loving history, and keeping him naked and in his bed, had made my agreement fairly easy, but I’d known I was physically and emotionally at my limit, too. As a perk, the pizza we ordered to eat in bed like we’d done back in Denver, was not only yummy but didn’t make me sick. I almost think the sickness was more about stress and exhaustion than the pregnancy.

  Done arranging my new things, I dress in a black velvet Victoria Secret sweatsuit with stylish wedge-heeled tennis shoes. Soon I suspect they will be all that will fit of this slim-fitted outfit and I’m looking forward to a visit from Dr. Murphy on Monday to talk about my due date and general care.

  Looking oh so casual and sexy in a pair of gray sweats and a red t-shirt with the “pi” sign on it, Liam appears in the bedroom entryway about the time I’m about to seek him out.

  His eyes light on me, and I feel his genuine pleasure at having me here which warms me to the core. “Let’s go get you comfortable with your new home, why don’t we?”

  My stomach knots with his words as he leads me along with him, the real world I’ve spent hours hiding from striking its an
gry sword at me, reminding me of what I’ve pretended didn’t exist. I’m hungry for stability, for home, but I’m on the run and once I leave here, I may never be back.

  All the more reason to drink in every second of the here and now, I remind myself, aware in deep, gut-wrenching ways how easily tomorrow might not exist. We travel the hallway that had been intimidatingly dark and is now a path to several elegantly decorated bedrooms, a library filled with architecture books and models of buildings Alex created. We spend a good hour talking about those, and then finally we enter The Dagger Room. The Dagger Room.

  I step inside what is a long, rectangular-shaped room the size of two giant master bedrooms. It is all windows. At least a dozen glass cases are framed in gray wood with club foot legs etched in intricate designs, holding Alex’s dagger collection.

  Liam waves me forward and I eagerly move to the first case as he explains, “You’ll find them divided by region and time period. And as I mentioned, you’ll find the collection heavily influenced by Alex’s Asian interests.”

  My eyes go wide as a jade-handled dagger with remnants of dirt and age on the ivory blade comes into view, and I read, Shang Dynasty ca. 1046 BCE. Stunned, I look at Liam. “This is museum-worthy.”

  “And now you know why I say I have a state of the art security system.”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.” I glance around at some of the other pieces and add, “I hope it’s really as good as you say it is.”

  “I wouldn’t have brought you here if it weren’t. We’re wired like Fort Knox, baby, don’t you worry. Alex put a lifetime into this collection and I want to keep them safe, but I’m not sure I enjoy them the way they should be enjoyed. I need to find a museum to donate them to.”

  Surprised, I study him, and I don’t miss the sadness in the depths of his eyes. “Are you sure you want to let them go?”

  “Am I sure?” He laughs without humor. “There is the question. No, I’m not sure but it’s what Alex wanted. I just haven’t been able to bring myself to do it.”

  I wrap my arms around him, tilting my chin up to study him. “If I had anything that was my father’s, I don’t know if I could let it go either.”

  “Have you visited any of his public displays?”

  I shake my head. “I was afraid it would bring attention to me so I didn’t dare, and honestly, I had to try to block the past out. It’s how I got up every day.”

  “The blackouts say that came with a price.”

  “Isn’t there always a price?”

  “Sometimes there’s happiness, Amy, and you deserve to experience that. I’m going to get you something of your father’s.”

  “I just want the chance to say goodbye properly.”

  “We’ll get you that, too.” He motions to our right. “The only Egyptian display in the room.”

  In that moment, when I completely understand his desire to give me any connection to my family he can, I know that I am devastatingly, completely in love with him and while we have not spoken the words, they sweep silently through the air, a current waiting to be charged.

  I press to my toes and touch my lips to his, letting them linger a moment, and he flattens his hand on my back, holding me to him, breathing with me. With me. His presence in my life is like the lighthouse in stormy waters to a ship lost at sea.

  Dragging my fingers over his goatee, I ease back and our eyes meet, triggering a mutual smile. He leads me to the display he’d indicated. “All but one are replicas, unfortunately,” he warns as we bring the five daggers laying on black silk into view, “but they are all antiques.”

  I’m immediately drawn to a dagger carved in ebony with copper trim that is meant to represent the mid-BCE. My hand flattens on the glass, flashes of a memory teasing my mind, transporting me back to a dig site. I’d been fourteen and on the last trip I’d ever take with my family.

  “What is it?” I ask eagerly, tossing my braided hair over my shoulder, and dropping to the desert ground next to Chad where he was digging fiercely.

  “I don’t know. Some sort of limestone. Maybe a tool. Why aren’t you at lunch with the others?”

  “I finished early.”

  “Then make yourself useful. Go get help. Dad’s going to want to see this.”

  I drop to my knees and start digging. Chad grabs my arm and grimaces, dirt smudging his handsome, tanned face. “You know better. We need a team and proper equipment. Go get help.”

  “Father!”I shout at the top of my lungs. “Father!”

  “I said go get help, not shout for help. I could have done that myself.”

  “But you didn’t, so good thing you have me to think of the obvious, right?”

  “Happy memory for once?” Liam asks, snapping me back to the present.

  I tilt my head, “What?”

  “You’re smiling.”

  “Oh. Yes. It was a happy memory.” I give him a quick peck on the cheek.

  “What’s that for?”

  “For helping me honor them with good memories.”

  The doorbell rings.

  “That’ll be Tellar and Derek with lunch and the files for us to review.”

  “Lunch sounds wonderful,” I say, linking my arm with his. “Rest has done my appetite wonders.”

  I am in good spirits as I sit down at the table with Liam, Tellar, and Derek, another memory without a blackout expanding my optimism over recovering my past. Eager to get lunch done to learn about their research, I’m about to take a bite of my ham and cheese sandwich as splintering pain slices through my scalp.

  I see the same dig site I’d been on with my brother. And I see him.

  Oh God. I see him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Hot. I am so very hot. I lay in the tent, staring at the ceiling, or well, whatever you call it, thinking about how exciting the dig site had been today. My brother snorts out a loud snore that has laughter bubbling from my lips and I turn my head to study him. He blinks awake, eying me through the wayward blond locks of hair, and I’ve earned myself another of his grimaces. I do that often with Chad.

  “Why aren’t you asleep?” he grumbles.

  “It’s hot.”

  “It’s always hot in Egypt in the summer.”

  “I’m excited. I want to know what you found today.”

  “We’ll know tomorrow.”

  I roll to my side. “I wonder if we’ll find more than that one piece of limestone?”

  He drops his arm over his face. “Sleep so we can get up early and find out.”

  “I have to pee.”

  He glances at me under his arm. “Of course you do.”

  I open the tent and slip into the darkness and glance at the starless sky, remembering how dark it had been before the sandstorm I’d lived through last year. Terrifying didn’t begin to explain what it had been like. Quietly, I tiptoe past rows of tents and the silence, considering the large team on the site, is kind of creepy.

  Finishing up at the portable bathroom, I frown at the rumble of voices and follow the sound, spotting my father standing beside the supply tent. A covered truck that isn’t part of our normal caravan is parked next to it. Curious, I squat down and crawl through a row of tents to come up on the side of one of the four Jeeps, peeking around the side. Darn. The stranger, or I think he is a stranger, now has his back to me but it’s too dark to see anything anyway.

  The man opens the truck door and a beam of light hits my father, tracing the lines of his strained features. Discomfort burns in my belly and I am instantly on edge, certain this meeting is not a good one. The other man hands my father a large envelope and my father glances inside.

  “This isn’t what we agreed upon,” my father says, his angry tone biting through the silence on a rare breeze, which lifts dirt and chokes me to the point I begin to cough. Both my father and the stranger turn to look at me…

  “Amy. Amy. Damn it, Tellar, call Dr. Murphy.”

  “No,” I gasp at Liam’s command, trying to push away from my chair to discov
er my chair is now Liam’s lap. “I’m okay.”

  “Holy hell, woman,” Liam mumbles. “You scared the crap out of me. Again.”

  “Uh yeah,” Tellar agrees. “Me too.”

  “Add me to the list,” Derek adds. “I say call the doc.”

  “No,” I insist. “I don’t feel pain. It wasn’t bad. It was good.”

  He looks at me like I’ve finally lost it. “That was not good.”

  “It was.”

  Tellar stands up, the gun nestled in his shoulder strap glaringly obvious as he fixes Derek with a pointed look. “We should give them a few.”

  “No,” I insist quickly. “You both came here to help me get answers and I’ve never needed them as much as I do right now.” I try to get up and Liam holds me in place. I glower at him. “Let me sit back in a chair.”

  “You just--”

  “Had a blackout. I get it. I’ve been having them for years.”

  “You weren’t pregnant.”

  The barked out worry of his reply gives me pause and I stroke his cleanly-shaven jaw. “Dr. Murphy knows about the flashbacks.”

  “And she obviously doesn’t know about you passing out and hitting your head like you did in Denver, or she would have done more to stop them.” His tone is pure disapproval. “I’ll be calling her today.”

  In my worry about ending this nightmare before the baby arrives, I didn’t ask enough questions when I was with Dr. Murphy. I stroke my thumb over his neatly trimmed goatee. “She’s planning to meet with us for an in-depth consultation on Monday. Let her have her weekend.”

  He scowls. “I’m not letting her send me out of the room this time.”

  “Agreed. Now can I go back to my chair?”

  Looking less than pleased, he allows me to stand, but he isn’t about to let go of me completely until I’m settled back at the table on my own. Tellar is still standing and all three men stare at me like they expect me to black out again any second. And if not for the baby, I’d almost wish they were right. I want to remember more, faster.