Agent Bride. Beverly Long
share of the bed?
He’d saved her life.
Had doubled back to let her know about the men looking for her. She looked at him closer. He had a red mark on his face. He hadn’t had it the night before. “What happened there?” she asked, already suspecting the truth.
“You’ve got a strong right hook,” he said nonchalantly. “Unfortunately, you popped me one at about the same time you started screaming. It was a bit disconcerting for a minute.”
Someone with less control might have killed her by mistake in response.
“I was lying on a bed,” she said. “It was narrow, more like a cot.”
He nodded.
“I wanted to get up, knew I needed to get away. But my wrists were tied to the bed frame. I pulled and pulled but it was no use.”
“Who tied you there?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It...it looked like a ghost. All white.”
He didn’t say anything.
“I know, crazy, right?” she said.
“Nope. Did the ghost talk to you?”
She thought for a minute. He had. She knew that. Couldn’t remember what he’d said. “I’m not sure.”
“What else do you remember?”
She pointed to the garbage can in the corner. “That was hanging in the corner of the room.”
“The wedding dress?” he asked.
“Yes.” She’d been scared of the dress but she could hardly admit that. There was something else and she tried desperately to recall it but it was out of her reach.
“Do you remember anything else?”
“I was sick. The ghost made me so sick.”
He seemed to consider that. “You were screaming when you woke up. Why?”
“The ghost had come in and something bad was going to happen.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. But it was bad. I started screaming. And then...I guess I woke up.”
He seemed to consider his words. “You have marks on your wrists,” he said. “Like you’ve been restrained.”
He was pointing out the obvious. She could ignore it, dismiss it. Or she could take the risk, leave herself absolutely exposed. If she didn’t, she’d be all alone. “So you’re saying that maybe it wasn’t just a dream?”
“You tell me,” he said, his voice intense.
She took a deep breath. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“Maybe at the beginning.”
Wouldn’t that be nice? “Well, that was sometime before I met you. How long before, I’m not quite sure.”
“That’s a little confusing,” he said.
She sat up in bed and pushed a hand through her tangled hair. “I’m in trouble. I don’t know why but I am. The problem is, I don’t think I can get myself out of it.”
“Because?”
“Because I don’t know what went wrong. I don’t know who else is involved. I don’t know how big this is but something tells me it’s big. Really big. And that terrifies me. I don’t know who the bad guys are. I don’t know what they want.” She took a breath.
“Okay. Anything else you don’t know?”
She nodded. This was the hardest part. “When I looked in the mirror yesterday, I didn’t recognize myself. Not because my hair was different or anything dumb like that. I didn’t know who the woman in the mirror was.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t even know who I am.”
“I knew Mary Smith was bogus,” he said.
Her dark eyes got big. “That’s it? That’s it?” she repeated, her voice rising. “I tell you that I don’t know who I am and all you can say is ‘I knew Mary Smith was bogus.’ Of course it was bogus. I. Don’t. Know. My. Name.”
“And you’re pretty freaked out about it,” he said.
Now she gave him a look that would have made most people run for the door. It made him want to smile but he resisted. If he didn’t watch out, she’d land another punch.
“A little,” she said sarcastically.
“I get that,” he said. “But I don’t think it’s helpful for both of us to be freaked out. And I’ve been around a few people who have had short-term memory loss. It comes back.”
She didn’t say anything for a long minute. “But what if it doesn’t?”
And that simple question, asked in a small voice, pulled at his gut more than any full-blown tantrum could.
“You can’t worry about that. Right now, you need to focus on staying safe.” He meant that. While he was trying really hard to be calm, listening to her talk about some ghost that scared her and tied her to a bed had made him sick.
“You woke up asking the day of the week. Saturday seemed important. Why?”
“I don’t know,” she said, frustration in her tone. “In my dream, I knew that something very bad was going to happen on Saturday. That I had to stop it.”
“Something bad to you?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “This is going to sound crazy but even now that I’m awake, just saying the word Saturday makes my heart rate kick up in my chest.”
“Okay. It’s just Wednesday. If something bad is going to happen on Saturday, we’ve got a couple days. I think our best bet now is to get the hell out of Dodge,” he said.
“We? Our?” she repeated. “This isn’t your problem.”
No, it wasn’t. But he’d made his decision on that the minute he’d circled back to warn her about the Mercedes Men. “I’m between jobs right now so I’ve got some time on my hands.”
She stared at him. He could read the questions in her eyes. She wanted to trust him but with no memory to guide her, she probably felt that any value judgment she might make was suspect. “What was your job?” she said finally.
“Navy SEAL for eight years. Got my discharge papers six months ago.”
“So you haven’t worked since then?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I signed on for more of the same with a private contractor. The money was really good but—” he paused “—I’m just ready for something else.” There was no need to tell her that he’d come home to have a conversation with his brother, a conversation that was probably going to be difficult for both of them.
“What brought you to Missouri?” she asked.
“Family. I was raised about a hundred miles from here in a small town. Ravesville. Ever heard of it?”
“No.” Her cheeks got pink. “At least I don’t think I have.”
He shrugged. “No worries. Don’t try to force it.”
She shook her head. “There are men looking for me. And I don’t have any idea why. That’s pretty frightening.”
“I can keep you safe,” he said confidently. “Now let’s roll. There’s a piece of apple pie in my car that we can split for breakfast.”
She reached