Read Online Evercrossed by Elizabeth Chandler - Free Book Online

conscious, she gazed back at him steadily. He was clean shaven today and wore a pair of tattered jeans, old shoes, and a terry cloth robe that was about a foot and a half too short for him, "Nice seeing you—and not talking—again," Ivy said, starting down the steps.
    "Do you have a car?"
    She turned around, surprised by the question. "Yes. Why?"
    "I need a ride."
    "A ride now? Where?"
    "Not far," he replied casually. "The next town over." Ivy cocked her head.
    "Providence," he said.
    "Providence is the next state over," Ivy told him.
    "Wherever," he replied gruffly. "Just get me out of here." In the fluorescent light, his bruised skin looked grayish green.
    "Sorry," Ivy said. "I don't know what kind of medical problems you have—other than amnesia and—"
    "I've never been better." He started down the steps toward her.
    "Andy's looking for you."
    "To hell with Andy. To hell with all of them!" he exploded. Ivy stayed calm but moved quickly down the stairs, trying to stay ahead of him without triggering a chase that she was sure to lose.
    "They'll let you out when you are well."
    "I can't wait that long!" She reached the door marked Level 2 and pushed against it. It didn't budge. She pushed again.
    He smirked. "Already tried that. I've tried them all." He walked steadily down the steps toward her. "The only one that opens onto a floor is Level G."
    Ivy hurried down the steps, hesitating at the door to Level 1, then continuing past it. The guy quickly closed the gap between them, catching her from behind, turning her toward him and backing her against the wall. "Get out your keys."
    "Why do you want to leave?" she asked.
    "Hand them over," he demanded.
    "You don't even know why!" she guessed. "You have no idea what you're doing or where you're going!" Releasing her, he took a step back. This was her chance to get away, but something she'd glimpsed in his eyes held her there.
    He sat down slowly on the concrete steps, then dropped his head in his hands.
    "What's going on?" Ivy asked in a gentler voice. He shook his head.
    "I don't know. I just know I have to get away. Somebody's after me, and I've got to get away."
    Ivy moved several steps below him and sat down. She saw that his forearms were badly bruised, as was the side of his head, close to his left ear. A long cut scored his neck, just beneath his jaw. There was more to his story than being found unconscious on a beach or saved from drowning; he'd been beaten up—badly.
    If he was in serious trouble, she'd be crazy to get involved. For all she knew, he remembered what had happened to him but didn't want to admit it because he was to blame.
    Ivy began to rise, men stopped. What if he did have to get away—what if someone was hunting him down? All he was asking was for a way to leave the hospital. Ivy's instinct was to help. Then again, when first dealing with Gregory, she had trusted her instincts, and she'd been dead wrong.
    "What have they told you about your condition?" she asked.
    He shrugged her off. "It doesn't matter."
    "Answer my question."
    Sighing, he complied. "There was water in my lungs. Obviously I've been beaten up. I have a head injury. The brain scans indicate that the memory loss isn't physical." He glanced away. "They had me talk with a psychiatrist—if it's not physical, it must be mental, right?"
    "Possibly," Ivy said, feeling for him, remembering how she blocked out Tristan's death and how the "accident" had come back to her bit by bit in horrifying nightmares. His eyes met hers.
    "It's happened to you. That's what you meant the other day, when you said that remembering was as painful as not."
    She nodded, wishing she could assure him that things would get better, but her situation was different from his. She'd had Will, Beth, her mom, and Philip's care, and the enduring love of Tristan to get her through. What did he have?
    "What's your name?" she asked.
    "My memory problem must be contagious," he replied. "How would I know?"
    "You said you