Chapter Seven

Egan went a few more miles before driving the SUV into the lot of a small motel that had a neon vacancy light missing the letter N. Kellee stared at the building in dismay. The white, wooden, two-story building boasted maybe forty rooms. Rust from the wrought iron railing bled onto the cement steps, and paint peeled off the façade. At least the roof appeared new.

“It doesn’t look like much,” Egan said as he shifted the car into park. “But I’ve stayed here before. It’s clean. More importantly, it’s safe.” He opened the door. “I’ll only be a minute. Stay put.”

Like she had anywhere else to go. Which rule was it? Right. Rule number one.

Egan strode into the office. Through the glass door, she saw him leaning against the counter talking to the pretty manager with bleached-blonde hair. He smiled at something the woman said and a pang of jealousy clenched in Kellee’s chest. She had no claim on him. He didn’t see her. He saw a pathetic, bedraggled waif who’d lost her way.

Besides, she had enough problems without pining over a lost teenage crush.

Whoa. Where had that thought come from? Instantly, another memory flashed. The image was so clear it was as though it had happened yesterday.

In her mind’s eye, she saw Egan’s bare, masculine feet gliding fluidly on the mat—his solid chest peeking from between the gap in his gi top. As her instructor, he’d unselfishly shared his knowledge of the art, and his supple strength had captured her young imagination. She remembered mindless fantasies about Egan as her sexy warrior. Together, with their martial arts, they’d save the world by day. And the nights…

Kellee sighed. She hoped she’d kept the fantasies to herself. A secret she’d continue to keep if she knew what was good for her. Egan still thought of her as his teenage student, which explained why he treated her as child. She wondered about their current relationship. The look he’d given her earlier had triggered sparks like Fourth of July fireworks. She was positive that kiss in the parking lot wasn’t her imagination, either. It proved he wasn’t totally disinterested.

As she watched, Egan leaned over the counter to sign a paper and gave the manager another smile as he slid the paper back to finish the transaction. Kellee’s stomach did a slow roll. Her crush wasn’t gone, after all.

She dragged her gaze from the motel office and eyed the traffic along the street to take her mind off the scene before her. Rows of cars queued up at the intersection. The evacuation seemed to have doubled traffic in many of the larger southern cities. People escaping the devastation, trying to find a place to recover.

A dark sedan sped up to beat a yellow light, but slammed on the brakes at the last second. The driver must have spotted the police cruiser sitting in the next lane. Seeing the car reminded her of the sandy-haired man she’d talked to at the truck stop. How strange that he’d taken an interest in her necklace when no one else had commented about it, not even Tresha.

She lifted the pendant from under her blouse and held it up to the light. The man had told her this ugly bird thing would bring luck. She glanced through the motel doors again at Egan, who was handing some cash to the manager. Egan had found her, so maybe her luck was changing.

Egan stepped out of the office and headed toward the SUV. She tucked the pendant inside her shirt as he opened the door.

“Here,” he said, handing her a key card and sliding onto the seat. “Hold this.” Although the motel looked dilapidated, it apparently had updated card locks. He drove to a parking slot in front of a ground-floor room at the corner of the building. “This is us.”

“Us?” Kellee glanced at the door he pointed to. “We’re sharing a room?”

“Rule number two. You go where I go.”

“Right.” She flashed him a tight smile. “And you promised me some answers as to why these rules are so important.”

“Be patient,” he said. “First, clean up and eat something. Then I’ll answer your questions the best I can.”

Kellee climbed out of the car, dragging her backpack with her and hoping nothing of her newfound recollections showed on her face. She didn’t want Egan guessing that she’d remembered a girlhood crush and taking pity on her.

Swiping the card in the lock, she waited for the indicator to flash green, then turned the handle and opened the door.

Light from the doorway security lamp spilled into the darkened room and cast an eerie shadow across the queen-sized bed that took up most of the space in the room. A television on a stand with drawers, and a small round table with two chairs completed the generally beige-and-mint-colored motel room ensemble. Kellee found the light switch and flipped it on, needing the sense of security from the light, but not knowing why. Then she headed straight for the bathroom at the far end.

****

Egan watched Kellee disappear into the bathroom as he kicked the door shut. He automatically locked both the deadbolt and the chain lock before dropping his rucksack on the floor next to the table and laying the package of clothes he’d bought on the bed.

One bed. He’d wanted a room with two beds, but more importantly, he’d wanted a room close to the street exit.

He was exhausted, and the prospect of sharing the bed was tempting. Regardless, he’d sleep on the floor. A hard, uncompromising floor would keep his libido in check. Kellee accused him of treating her like a child, and she was right. His defense against the feelings that had started to surface was to remind himself that she was his student and the boss’s daughter—nothing more. The Hounds of Hell would have him if he started treating her like the woman she was, the woman who’d haunted his dreams since—

Kellee stepped out of the bathroom, stopping his thoughts midstream. He took that moment to study her. Not stolen glances while he drove, but a careful assessment.

Her shirt and shorts looked like she’d rolled through a swamp while still wearing them. Unwashed hair—shorter than he remembered—hung in a limp, tangled mess around her face. The bruise on her forehead was turning greenish-yellow around the edges. None of these things detracted from her heart-shaped mouth, the gentle swell of her breasts, and curved hips tapering to long shapely legs.

He took a quick breath and let it out slowly to ease the sharp heat weaving through his middle. He tore his eyes away and picked up the TV remote. “The package on the bed is for you,” he said, clicking the screen to life, thankful his voice sounded mostly normal.

Kellee didn’t seem to notice his lapse. She crossed to the bed, picked up the sack and peered inside.

“I guessed on the sizes.” He swallowed the dryness in his throat. “Will they fit?”

She sorted through the items. A blouse, tank tops and a pair of shorts. The underwear and bra he’d picked out were white, with hardly any lace. Egan had enough temptation on his hands without visualizing Kellee’s body in the colorful, slinky items he’d seen on the rack.

“I think so.” She held the shirt up, then glanced at him “Do you…?” She motioned toward the bathroom.

Egan shook his head. “Go ahead,” he said. “Take your time.”

She gave him a watery smile and for a moment tears shimmered in her eyes. Then she blinked and the tears were gone. Turning abruptly, she hurried into the bathroom.

Egan smiled as he heard the bathwater start to run. She should have broken down long before now. Damn if that woman didn’t have the stubbornness of her old man.

Which reminded him—time to make that call. He dug the prepaid cell phone out of his rucksack and dialed. When he heard the answering system pick up, he punched a sequence of numbers and then disconnected the call.

The anonymous owner of the voice-mailbox would be notified of the message and convert the encryption to text. The message—FOUND KELLEE ALIVE—would be forwarded to O’Neal.

For now, that was all Egan was allowed to offer a father desperate for news of his missing daughter.

****

Kellee sank into the bathtub, sliding her head under the hot water. She held her breath and let the heated moisture soak through the grime and into her skin, wishing all of her problems could be washed away as easily as the dirt. What was she going to do if she never regained the rest of her memories? Could she rebuild a life based on spotty recollections of Egan and her martial arts training? What about her family? Why couldn’t she remember them?

She lifted her head out of the water and released her breath. Then she opened the courtesy shampoo, dumped half the contents into her palm and started scrubbing her filthy hair…Her short filthy hair!

A memory burst into her mind. She’d recently cut her hair for a job with a private investigation agency. Short hair was easier to care for. Made it faster to get out on a call when her boss had a case for her to take.

Had she been on a case when the storm hit? If so, maybe she hadn’t been in her apartment when the man died. What other explanation was there for her to leave him if he’d needed help? And what else had happened to her in the hours during the storm?

These tiny morsels of recollections left her unsatisfied. Ruthlessly, she rinsed her hair, and then pulled the plug on the bathwater. As the tub drained, she turned on the taps and set the switch for the shower. She lathered up and scrubbed her body until her skin turned pink, even taking time to clean the grit from under her fingernails. After turning off the water, she grabbed a white towel off the rack. The towel was worn and scratchy, but it felt good to be clean after three days without a shower.

Once dried, she dressed in the clothes Egan had bought. The panties were a bit small and the bra a size too big. Plain white underwear didn’t seem quite her style, but after wearing the latest in post-hurricane fashion, she wouldn’t complain. Unfortunately, the shorts hung to her knees and the baggy white blouse draped off her shoulders like a curtain. However, the clothes smelled wonderfully clean. A flare of embarrassment warmed her cheeks when she visualized Egan picking out her underwear. What made a man go that far out of his comfort zone? Was he feeling protective, like a big brother, or was there something more?

She took the ends of the blouse and gathered them into a knot at her middle. All it had taken was a bath and clean clothes, and she felt ready to face the world. Even better, parts of her memory were returning. Regardless of all the other disappointments, remembering her job was a big deal. She couldn’t wait to tell Egan.

As she opened the bathroom door, the smell of pizza greeted her. Food! A loud growl erupted from her empty stomach.

Egan chuckled from where he sat at the table.

The sound sent a cascade of tingles through her.

“Guess I made the right choice,” he said.

“I love pizza,” Kellee exclaimed, then paused, realizing what she’d said. “I really do love pizza.”

“You’re repeating yourself.”

“Sorry. I know. But I just remembered.” Crossing the room to the table, she sat on the other chair, curling her legs underneath her. “I remembered something else.” She slid the pizza box toward her. As she worked a slice free, a clump of cheese and sausage topping slid off in the box. Fingering it, she popped it into her mouth. Her cheeks puckered from the sensation of flavor invading her taste buds.

“What did you remember?” Egan gave her his full attention, although his expression seemed somewhat wary.

“My job,” she said with her mouth full. “Mmmm…this is so good.” She chewed more slowly, savoring the taste of real food, not something wrapped in cellophane. After she swallowed, she continued, excited to share her new discovery. “All along, I felt like I should be helping the evacuees, helping them connect with lost family members. Now I know why.”

Egan nodded. “You worked for the Collins Agency. They specialize in missing persons.” Kellee’s teeth sank into the soft cheese. “You knew?” she mumbled around her bite. “What else haven’t you told me?”

“And spoil your fun of discovering all this new stuff about yourself?”

“That’s not fair, and you know it.”

Egan chuckled again.

A giddy feeling welled inside her. She could make him smile. Maybe she didn’t have to be jealous of the motel manager after all. She leaned her elbows on the table and took another bite.

“Finish eating,” he said, reaching for a second slice. “We have more to talk about.” If he was disappointed she hadn’t yet remembered anything about the dead man, he didn’t show it.

Kellee leaned back in her chair and enjoyed the mixed flavors of cheese, sausage, and warm pizza crust. Nothing ever tasted so good. Egan seemed to enjoy the meal too. She studied him while he watched TV and ate. He seemed more relaxed than he had while driving. Relaxed, yet his dark eyes remained alert.

When had they seen each other last? It couldn’t have been any time recently. His brownish-black hair seemed longer than she remembered from when they trained. Now, it touched his collar.

She was more curious about him now than about her own past. “What’s your last name?”

Egan jerked his attention from the TV, hesitating before answering. “Maddox.”

“Egan Maddox.” Kellee spoke his name softly, trying to remember more about him. Yet the pieces floating around in the wilderness of her mind weren’t fitting together. “You were my martial arts instructor.”

He nodded, keeping his gaze steady on her face.

“Is that where we met?” she asked.

“No.” Egan put his unfinished slice of pizza in the box and brushed his hands with a napkin. “I worked for your father,” he said, swallowing his last bite.

“Worked? As in past tense?” she asked. “Didn’t you tell me back at the park that my father sent you to find me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m confused.”

A muscle twitched in his cheek. He glanced back at the raucous beer commercial on the TV and turned it off with the remote. An uncertain expression crossed his face when he looked at her again. “Your father and I had a difference of opinion. I took some time off.”

Silence closed around them. She had the sense he was hiding something from her. Shivering at the unexpected tension in the air, she realized she was alone with a man she didn’t really know. She might have remembered him, but what exactly did she know about him?

“I can handle what you have to say. You promised you’d tell me.” She cringed at her unsteady voice. Whatever he wasn’t saying couldn’t be worse than her imagination.

He closed the lid on the pizza box and pushed it aside. Leaning on his forearms, he splayed strong capable hands on the table.

A ripple coursed under her skin as she remembered how those hands had caressed her cheek when he’d kissed her. How would they feel caressing her arms, soothing her body? One moment she was unsure of him, even a little afraid. And the next she was fantasizing about things she had no right to. If she didn’t get her memory back soon, she was going to need therapy.

“What I’m going to tell you won’t be easy to hear. But I think you can handle it.” His dark eyes glittered. “Your father’s name is Byron O’Neal. He was concerned when you didn’t contact him after the storm. He notified the local authorities. When they searched your apartment, they found the body of a man. You were missing. Obviously, he became worried something terrible had happened to you.”

That made sense. “Why did he send you? Why not look for me himself?”

“I have certain skills your father needed.” Egan seemed to shift uncomfortably in his chair. “He didn’t ask me to simply find you.”

“What did my father ask you to do?” Kellee hated the tremor in her voice. She still didn’t understand why she’d run away from Egan when she saw him searching the crowd at the rest stop. Or again in the store parking lot. All she knew was her feelings about him vacillated like a teeter-totter on a playground.

Egan hesitated. The muscle in his check twitched again. “He asked me to make you disappear.”