Sworn to Protect

by A K August

  I took off after her, both in my memory as well as now. I was on the edge of remembering something, but I had to set that aside and talk to Katie in the present.

  "Hey. Wait. Katie. Please. Stop." I got in front of her, holding my hands up, blocking her path.

  "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

  She looked heartbroken. "When? When the doctors said you had to remember on your own time? When we were hanging out, getting to know each other again? How do I just blurt out—oh, by the way, I'm carrying your baby."

  I coyly smiled. "Oh, you mean like you just did?"

  She bit her lip and kicked a rock. She still hadn't looked at me. "Yeah, sorry about that. I didn't intend to do that out here."

  "Were you ever going to tell me?"

  She finally met my eyes. "Yes. I was working up to it, looking for the right time. I guess I shot that plan to hell."

  ◆◆◆

  "You knew, didn't you?" I ran my hands through my hair in frustration and anxiety.

  My father distraughtly pulled on his fingers. "I'm sorry, Anthony. We all did what we thought best at the time. The doctors were convinced your memory would return in time."

  I took Katie home in silence, neither knowing what was the best thing to say. I still didn't know how I should or wanted to respond. Add one more layer of confusion to my head. Perfect.

  "Did I know about the baby before?"

  He shook his head. "We were all surprised, no one more so than Katie. She cried for a week after she found out."

  "She didn't want it?"

  "No!" He was quick to respond. "She was sad she couldn't tell you and have you experience it with her. We all believed you'd get better and she couldn't wait to tell you. She kept a video journal of everything for you."

  I sat back, contemplating my life. I was about to be a father with a girl I couldn't remember sleeping with but had become friends before realizing her baby was mine. Physically I was fine, but my life had become a daytime talk show.

  "What do I do?"

  "What do you want to do?"

  I searched my father's face, the one who always gave me the best advice. "I feel like I should ask her to marry me."

  Dad has two modes, family mode, where he's open and loving, and policy mode, where he's stern and full of facts and recommendations designed to push people to his side of the table in support of whatever initiatives he'd written up. I watched him don the policy face. "Do you love her?"

  "I like her a lot; we obviously had more. Maybe we can again."

  "Do you think Katie would marry someone who might love her sometime in the future?"

  I wanted to ignore the probability words in his reply. "She's having my baby!"

  "And that is a good basis for marriage? Listen to yourself, Anthony."

  I wanted to throw something or break something.

  "I can't listen to myself because I'm not talking. My memories of Katie and I are gone. I don't remember what we had. Were we in love? Was it casual? Was it a one-time thing? I don't know. I'm used to seeing heartache in Katie's eyes. She tries to hide it, but she slips. I always attributed it to the baby's father not being in the picture. That made me mad. Who would leave her high and dry like that? That guy is me. I'm mad at me for leaving her. She mourns me, yet I'm standing right here. How am I supposed to deal with that? How do I make that right?"

  I was angrily pacing the backyard but didn't have anyone I could direct my fury.

  "You can't make it right, Anthony, you did nothing wrong. You know now. All you can do is move forward. You and Katie are friends. What would your friend Katie want?"

  I stopped moving and stared at my father. I didn't know what Katie wanted for her baby, because we never talked about the baby, each with our reasons. Mine because I was irritated on her behalf that the baby's father wasn't there for her, and Katie because doctors told her she couldn't tell me. How was she supposed to talk about the baby, with the baby's father, and not tell me? They put her in a terrible position.

  How dare they! Finally, someone I could be pissed at.

  ◆◆◆

  I knocked on Katie's door, let out a deep breath, and rubbed my hands on my pants, trying to erase the clammy feeling. It took several phone calls and text messages before Katie agreed to see me, and now I struggled to remember what I wanted to say.

  When she answered the door all that went away. It was just she and I, and I just sputtered out my words. "I want to be a part of your life and the baby's life, Katie. I know this must be weird for you. I can only imagine trying to reconcile the past with the present. Like having someone come in to organize your house, maybe what they do is better, or it could be worse; either way, you have to let go of the way it used to be and accept what's in front of you. I'm asking if you can accept me, as I am. I care for you, maybe not as I used to, but I do care. And I care for the baby. I want to do whatever I can to help you and the baby if you let me."

  I watched her as I spoke, tears welling in her eyes. She didn't speak, just nodded. "I get it, hormones."

  She laughed then, choking up a bit.

  "Look, Dad and I are going up to his cabin for a few days. I'll call you when I get back, and maybe we can have lunch and talk about all this. If you need anything while I'm gone, please let me know." I stepped down from her stoop and let my gaze dip to her belly. I wanted to acknowledge the little Ladybug but wasn't sure how Katie would respond. "Take care of her."

  Katie's brow arched at my reference to the baby's gender. I shrugged, "just a feeling."

  I waved and walked away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  KATIE

  It had been one day since Anthony went to his father's cabin. I hadn't been able to sleep. Annie stayed overnight and most of the day trying to help me come to terms that My Anthony wouldn't be coming back. The next time I saw him, I needed to be ready to accept Anthony as he was. That wasn't so bad. He still made me laugh, he still cared and was still as sexy as ever. That may be the hardest part of this. Anthony being present but not having him, not being together. Oh, he was attracted to me. That kiss on the farm was evidence of that. But could we go there again? He didn't love me and I didn't know if I could stop comparing the old him with the new Anthony. It was so confusing. We would be co-parenting, friends who lusted for each other. This has disaster written all over it.

  A knock on my door paused my circular conversation. I hadn't made any progress since yesterday. I hoped the few extra days I had would shed some light for me. I looked through the peephole and gasped. Anthony stood on the other side, current pulsing through him and expelled from his feet as he shuffle-hopped from side-to-side.

  I flung open the door. "What are you doing here?"

  "I love you, Katie Corcoran." He stepped into the house and swept me into his arms, closing the door with his foot. He leaned down to kiss me, but I held my hands firmly against his chest.

  "No, you don't, Anthony. You feel responsible. You like me, but you don't love me." I shook my head and squirmed out of his embrace, walking further into my apartment.

  "How do you know?" He challenged.

  I sighed and turned to look at him. What was I doing? I loved this man, and he just told me he loved me too. Why wasn't I jumping up and down and claiming my prize?

  My Anthony's voice echoed in my ears. "Don't you see, Katie? You're the reason I'm ready to move forward. You've brought a light into my heart that hasn't been there in a long time."

  "Do you love me, Katie?" Anthony stepped forward and I retreated.

  "That's not a fair question."

  "Why not? You're having my baby. I love you. Don't I deserve to know where you stand?"

  Anthony's voice from the past hit me again. "You can tell me anything. Tell me you regret it; tell me you loved it too; tell me it was bad; tell me we need to stay friends. Whatever it is, the only thing I ask is that we talk. We can figure it out together."

  "It's not that simple, Anthony. You were the one who told me I had to accep
t you for who you are now. And you're right. It's not fair of me to compare you now to the past you. But do you know how hard it is to look at you and remember the experiences we shared, our conversations, and know you don't?" A tear escaped my eyes and I brushed it away.

  Anthony nodded but seemed determined to have me answer his question. "Do you love me?"

  My Anthony or the new Anthony, the man, was still exasperating. "Jeez. I visited you every day in the hospital. I lived in your house, painted your walls, planted herbs in your backyard. I thought I was building something for us. All I needed was you to wake up and share it with me. Yes, I loved you. But then you didn't remember our time together. You didn't remember me. I'm sorry, but I'm not in love with who is standing here today." I stepped further away, expecting Anthony to leave, now that I crushed his heart.

  His broad grin returned and he tucked his chin as he advanced slowly. "Yes, you do, Katie."

  There was a hunger in his eye like I was the Thanksgiving turkey and he was looking for where to bite first. "What?"

  "You love me."

  "Didn't you hear what I said? You barely know me. We have a different relationship now. I don't love you." I didn't know how to get it through his head without being cruel.

  He stopped inches from me, his hands clasped behind his back. Memories of Anthony stalking me in the barn came into focus. I'd been confused about what I was feeling then, didn't want to admit I was falling for him. Today was different. Anthony was different.

  "Are you still in love with the old me, Katie?"

  I shook my head, "you don't want me to answer that."

  That was cruelty I didn't want. None would benefit by me admitting that. Surely he had to understand; he would be competing with his own ghost. I didn't see how either of us could win.

  "Yes. I want to know. I need to know, Katie. Please."

  I looked at his face. He'd shaven off the beard much to my dismay, but it wasn't like he would heed a request from someone he didn't know. His green eyes shown bright, open to hearing what I said. He seemed so sure of himself, so much like My Anthony.

  "Yes. I'm still in love with the old you."

  The minute I said the words, Anthony pounced. He claimed my mouth with a surety that inferred hours of practice. My body reacted instinctively, molding to his as he nipped and soothed my lips, his hands skimming my skin, eliciting goose bumps in his wake. He trailed kisses down my neck and I tried to engage my brain. This wasn't right. This wasn't fair. When the lust subsides, I'll expect to see My Anthony; we'll both be disappointed, hurt.

  I brought my hands up to his shoulders to push him away just as his kisses reached my neck. His lips hovered along my collarbone, barely touching, his warm breath caressing my skin. When he tugged on my ear, I lost it.

  The combination was something My Anthony discovered drove me wild. He'd tease out my orgasm, buried deep inside me, bringing to the edge, then still; his engorged cock pulsing from the inside, his chest pressed into mine, while he followed up his kisses to my collarbone with the sensuous breeze from his mouth, sending shockwaves through my body. A final tug on my ear pushed me over.

  Even now, I whimpered under the onslaught of spasms to my core.

  "There's my girl." His words jolted me back to the present.

  "What—Why did you do that?" I pushed to give us space, but Anthony held firm, resting his forehead to mine.

  "I remember everything, Katie."

  "What!" I leaned back to see his eyes, My Anthony's eyes, full of love and support. "Everything? When? How?"

  "The showdown with Dwyer and Mark came back to me as soon as I walked into Dad's cabin. It was like I was still there, I felt the fear I had at that moment, for Dad, Claire, for you. The fear that everyone I loved could be taken from me if I didn't stop it. I recognized the sound of the smoke grenades as they shattered the window and bounced along the floor. I remember screaming 'grenade' and seeing the grunts hit the floor as I lunged toward Dwyer and pulled my gun.

  "Multiple gunshots went off; I heard Dad's Remington and the MP5's of my team. I got off a couple of shots before a bullet hit me and before things went dark."

  Anthony was maneuvering us to the sofa while he told his story, his eyes never leaving mine, his hands continuously perusing my body like he hadn't seen me in months. In a way, he hadn't. My Anthony was in a coma for four months and held hostage to amnesia for another three.

  Anthony continued as he settled us on the sofa. "When the flashback was over, I found myself on the floor of the cabin with Dad leaning over me, scared out of his mind. Apparently, I went through the motions of reliving that scene and fell when I took the last bullet.

  "The pain was still with me for a bit and I winced when Dad help me sit up. Then it faded as things cleared. Dad asked me what happened and I relayed the story only this time when I said your name, the rest of my memory came back. I remember your spaghetti that first night, our first kiss, standing in front of Claire's kitchen, the outline of your body as the moonlight hit it through the picture window in the guesthouse.

  "Your death-wish with all kitchen tools, your incessant need to finish what you start, your passion, and the way you feel when I hold you."

  He cupped my face as he kissed me lightly. "I think I fell in love with you when you asked if the FBI leak was plumber-related. I know you loved me when you pretended to let me wake you up in the morning."

  "Oh my god, Anthony! It's really you!" I climbed on top of him, as best I could with my bulging stomach, peppering kisses on every inch of skin I could find while my fingers inched his shirt over his head. Anthony wasted no time in joining my frenzy to be closer, his hands dipping under my dress and running up my thighs to my damp center. He pressed his fingers through the cloth, teasing.

  I practically screamed in frustration. "Too slow!"

  He chuckled as he pushed the fabric aside and plunged two fingers into my channel. "Better?"

  "God, yes. That's wonderful! More!" I was hornier than sophomores at an all-boys school.

  Anthony grabbed my hair and tilted my head, exposing my neck to his tongue. I shivered as the tip ran up the side and his teeth nipped at my ear lobe. His fingers' persistent impaling as his thumb circled my clit built up my climax.

  "Anthony! I'm so close."

  Just like that, Anthony removed his hand. "I'm sorry, Katie, I can't wait." Then it was his cock pushing at my entrance and I rose to position myself before sinking and reveling in the feeling as he filled me.

  He groaned as my channel opened for him, the welcomed invasion hitching my moan at the back of my throat. I cried happy tears. I thought I lost him that we'd never find each other again. My channel pulsed around him as I settled on top of him.

  "God, Katie. I've missed you."

  "Me too." I shifted positions slightly and sank deeper. I met his eyes. The desire flooded his eyes until his dilated pupils barely left a ring of the vibrant emerald. His face contorted as he held still.

  I didn't need slow and loving; there'd be plenty of time for that. I needed Anthony, all of him, right now. "Anthony, fuck me."

  That was all the invitation he needed. The flame ignited and we started to move. The push and pull as we slammed together again and again. He grabbed my hips and increased the speed, pounding us together, fusing our bond. I leaned over him and rested my hands on the back of the sofa, using it as leverage. Anthony grew stiff inside me and tweaked the angle of my hips, which dragged him along the back wall of my channel, swiping my g-spot. I screamed as my climax hit and Anthony growled in desperation as my channel pulsed around him, squeezing with every thrust. His orgasm tore through him and his warm rain spilled inside me as the energy wave of a second orgasm pulsed through me, nearly suffocating Anthony's cock as he continued to piston and drag out our spasms.

  We fell to the side, lying on the sofa, trying to regain our composure. "I love you, Katie."

  This time I knew who was speaking to me, and the words hit my soul, healing my heart. I c
hoked back the dam of tears, "I love you too."

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  ANTHONY

  It's my first week back at the FBI, and Jeff has rewarded me with a stack of paperwork that teeters on my desk like a hallowed out Jenga stack. I don't mind. You think being on leave with nothing more to do than physical therapy would have me itching to be in the field on a case. But I haven't been bored at home.

  Home. The Georgetown house was officially my home once again. Lucky for me the house had five bedrooms. Katie commandeered the den for her office. She graciously offered me a little table in the corner for my computer if I needed it, but I was content to sit outside on the patio, marveling at the backyard Katie had built into what she called a Queen Anne garden. The raised planters, under glassed-in covers for the winter, held a variety of flowers, herbs, and heirloom tomatoes that smelled so good you wanted to pick one directly from its vine and eat it whole. She couldn't wait to plant the lime tree, but it still too cold. For now, it has a prime spot in the living room, near enough the French doors to get the sun without the chill factor through the glass.

  We had two spare rooms after we converted the third into a nursery. A rotating group of people used the spare rooms since Katie had moved back in—which was two days after my memory returned. My father stayed for a while; he'd been an enormous support for Katie while I was in a coma and during the "gap" as we'd started calling my bout with amnesia. Dad and I played a lot of chess and had wonderful and scary conversations about parenting. Katie's parents had visited once already and said they'd be back when the babies were born. Twins. I don't know which of us was more shocked when the ultrasound revealed two babies. At first, Katie didn't want to know the sex, but she was unusually excited about twins and changed her mind in the tech's office. When the tech told her we'd have one of each, a boy and a girl, Katie started crying, then grabbed me and thoroughly kissed me.

  It was unfair of her, really. After Katie and I reunited, there was hardly a day that went by without us having sex. Katie's hormones kept hitting her libido like a piñata and I was only too happy to service her needs. But I'd gone to the farm for a few days to help Claire break in a horse. I'd arrived home just in time to take Katie to her appointment and we were both edgy from the separation.