Read Online Remember Love: Saints Protection & Investigations by Maryann Jordan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Maryann Jordan
Ads: Link
injury.
“What happened?” he asked softly. “Let’s start there.”
Shaking her head sadly, she said, “I don’t know.”
The silence stretched uncomfortably. “Okay,” he began again. “Let’s start with who you are. What’s your name? Where did you come from?”
Swallowing hard, she bit her bottom lip, wanting to look anywhere but into his eyes. He lifted her chin with his fingers, forcing her gaze to fall upon his. Taking a deep breath, she answered truthfully, “I don’t know.”
Cocking his head to the side, his lips turn down. “You don’t know who you are?”
Shaking her head, again, she replied, “I can’t remember anything.”
The unexpected answer had Blaise dropping his hand, leaning back heavily as his breath left his body in an audible whoosh. Can’t remember? Amnesia?
“I can see your mind working,” she said. “Believe me, I’ve tried to understand what happened to me, but I don’t.”
“What’s the first thing you remember?” he asked, his mind now working in a completely different direction. Hell, I thought she was running from an ex or the law. Amnesia? What the hell?
Shifting slightly on the sofa so that she was no longer facing him, but rather toward a view of the window overlooking his yard with the woods behind, she said, “I woke up. Out there somewhere.”
Deciding to stay quiet so she could tell her story in her own time, he settled back as well, keeping his eyes on her.
“I was in the woods. In a car. It was at the bottom of a big ravine, with brambles all around. The car was crushed, but I was able to crawl out. My head was bloody. I looked inside the car to find something to wipe the blood away, but there was nothing in the car, so I took off my sweater. I got the dried blood off.” She touched her scar again, her expression pained. “I didn’t remember anything. My name. What I was doing. I don’t even know if that was my car.”
Blaise stood, moving to the kitchen to pour a glass of water, bringing it back and handing it to her. She took it gratefully, swallowing deeply, draining the glass.
“I heard a whimper…kind of a soft bark. There was a large dog next to the car. I was scared at first, but it came right to me, as though it knew me. There was a collar with a nametag. The only word on it was Gypsy.”
“Was it your dog? Did the name mean anything to you?”
“No. I assumed it was my dog since we were deep into the woods and no one else was around.”
“What did you do?”
“I climbed out of the ravine, which I discovered was very deep. When I got to the road above, you couldn’t even see my car, nor were there any tell-tale signs.” Giving a shrug, she said, “I had no idea what happened, but I thought my memory would come back. A trucker passed by and gave me a lift.”
“You hitchhiked?” Blaise asked, unable to hide his protective irritation.
“Sure,” she said. “How else was I going to get anywhere? The trucker was nice. He didn’t ask any questions and dropped me off at the park in Charlestown. I stayed a few nights on park benches and then tried to find a homeless shelter when my memory did not return. But none of them would take me with a dog and I wasn’t about to part with Gypsy. After all, she was the only friend I had.”
Rubbing his hand over his face in frustration, Blaise tried to still his wildly tossing thoughts, for the first time unable to think methodically. He noticed her growing still and the doubtful expression on her face. Forcing an encouraging smile, he said, “So how long ago was this?”
“About three weeks,” she replied. “I found the abandoned house and made a home for us there. It’s horrible not remembering. I wanted to try to find someone to help me but didn’t know whom to trust. What if someone was trying to harm me?”
“I’ve got to ask, why didn’t you go to the police?” He knew his question sounded accusatory, but he was desperate to understand her motives.
Her face
“What happened?” he asked softly. “Let’s start there.”
Shaking her head sadly, she said, “I don’t know.”
The silence stretched uncomfortably. “Okay,” he began again. “Let’s start with who you are. What’s your name? Where did you come from?”
Swallowing hard, she bit her bottom lip, wanting to look anywhere but into his eyes. He lifted her chin with his fingers, forcing her gaze to fall upon his. Taking a deep breath, she answered truthfully, “I don’t know.”
Cocking his head to the side, his lips turn down. “You don’t know who you are?”
Shaking her head, again, she replied, “I can’t remember anything.”
The unexpected answer had Blaise dropping his hand, leaning back heavily as his breath left his body in an audible whoosh. Can’t remember? Amnesia?
“I can see your mind working,” she said. “Believe me, I’ve tried to understand what happened to me, but I don’t.”
“What’s the first thing you remember?” he asked, his mind now working in a completely different direction. Hell, I thought she was running from an ex or the law. Amnesia? What the hell?
Shifting slightly on the sofa so that she was no longer facing him, but rather toward a view of the window overlooking his yard with the woods behind, she said, “I woke up. Out there somewhere.”
Deciding to stay quiet so she could tell her story in her own time, he settled back as well, keeping his eyes on her.
“I was in the woods. In a car. It was at the bottom of a big ravine, with brambles all around. The car was crushed, but I was able to crawl out. My head was bloody. I looked inside the car to find something to wipe the blood away, but there was nothing in the car, so I took off my sweater. I got the dried blood off.” She touched her scar again, her expression pained. “I didn’t remember anything. My name. What I was doing. I don’t even know if that was my car.”
Blaise stood, moving to the kitchen to pour a glass of water, bringing it back and handing it to her. She took it gratefully, swallowing deeply, draining the glass.
“I heard a whimper…kind of a soft bark. There was a large dog next to the car. I was scared at first, but it came right to me, as though it knew me. There was a collar with a nametag. The only word on it was Gypsy.”
“Was it your dog? Did the name mean anything to you?”
“No. I assumed it was my dog since we were deep into the woods and no one else was around.”
“What did you do?”
“I climbed out of the ravine, which I discovered was very deep. When I got to the road above, you couldn’t even see my car, nor were there any tell-tale signs.” Giving a shrug, she said, “I had no idea what happened, but I thought my memory would come back. A trucker passed by and gave me a lift.”
“You hitchhiked?” Blaise asked, unable to hide his protective irritation.
“Sure,” she said. “How else was I going to get anywhere? The trucker was nice. He didn’t ask any questions and dropped me off at the park in Charlestown. I stayed a few nights on park benches and then tried to find a homeless shelter when my memory did not return. But none of them would take me with a dog and I wasn’t about to part with Gypsy. After all, she was the only friend I had.”
Rubbing his hand over his face in frustration, Blaise tried to still his wildly tossing thoughts, for the first time unable to think methodically. He noticed her growing still and the doubtful expression on her face. Forcing an encouraging smile, he said, “So how long ago was this?”
“About three weeks,” she replied. “I found the abandoned house and made a home for us there. It’s horrible not remembering. I wanted to try to find someone to help me but didn’t know whom to trust. What if someone was trying to harm me?”
“I’ve got to ask, why didn’t you go to the police?” He knew his question sounded accusatory, but he was desperate to understand her motives.
Her face
Similar Books
