Chapter Seven

Well, that had gone well…not. Karina stared from the door that had closed behind Jericho, back to the phone screen lying on the table in front of her. She reached for it, half surprised when no one stopped her. Lifting it up to the light, she studied the picture, hoping for some kind of revelation.

Better to keep busy than to allow feelings of abandonment to swamp her. Because that’s what she’d experienced when he’d gotten up and walked out, leaving her alone with the others. Completely and utterly abandoned.

Which didn’t make any sense, since she really didn’t know him. Of course, at this point, she didn’t know anyone, least of all herself. And why had the word expendable popped into her head out of nowhere when she thought about herself?

That doesn’t sound promising. What kind of life have I lived?

“He’ll be back,” Khalil assured her.

She ignored him and continued to examine the image of the tattoo. “This is really on my shoulder?” It looked well done but didn’t seem particularly special. “It has some kind of significance, doesn’t it?”

“Possibly,” Khalil admitted.

That told her exactly nothing. She didn’t seem like the type of woman who would get a tattoo. Or maybe she was. Except it was the only one she had. Maybe the tattoo was the one clue to who she really was.

Khalil brought a bowl of soup to the table and place it in front of her. The fragrant scent of chicken and noodles made her stomach grumble, reminding her she likely hadn’t eaten in quite some time. Not that she could remember.

She closed her fingers around the phone and held it a moment, somehow hoping something would come to her. When it didn’t, she carefully placed it on the table beside her. “Thank you.”

Feeling a little like an animal on display at the zoo, she picked up the spoon that had been placed in the bowl and scooped up some of the rich broth. Once again, she reminded herself that if they were going to harm her, they’d have already done so.

But she hesitated, the spoon hovering outside her mouth. She couldn’t make herself eat it. Trust issues were obviously a thing for her, memory or not.

Sadiq grunted, his frown deepening. Khalil simply got another spoon, dipped it into her bowl, and swallowed the contents. “It’s safe,” he assured her.

After waiting a moment to make sure he didn’t start to froth at the mouth, she began eating. It was slow going because, in spite of her body’s demands, she wasn’t really hungry. Plus, there was the real fear the food wouldn’t stay down. Her stomach was unsettled, and a dull ache continually throbbed in her head. She had to try to get the soup down if she was going to get stronger.

Once they were certain she was eating, they dug in. There was soup and sandwiches, pizza, and grilled chicken. They must not have eaten in a long time, either, because they devoured the food like they were starving. Although, it made sense they’d need more since they were all big men.

Enoch grabbed yet another slice of pizza and raised it in silent salute, making her realized she’d stopped eating to watch them.

Lowering her gaze, she went back to her own meal, but every few seconds her gaze would track to the door. Where was Jericho? And when would he be back?

“You really don’t remember anything?” Khalil asked. He sounded skeptical. She couldn’t blame him. It did seem like something out of a movie.

She set her spoon back down in the almost empty bowl and pushed it aside. “I remember basics like how to eat and do simple tasks. I know about generic things like shopping and money and movies and books. But, no, when it comes to who I am, what makes me, well, me… Nothing.” Her injuries were very real, but a part of her feared it wasn’t just the physical trauma keeping her past at bay.

Her intelligence wasn’t in doubt, nor was her tenacity, her mental toughness. She knew that about herself. But why and how she’d gained those very traits, she had no clue.

What kind of woman was kidnapped by a biker gang? What sort of business was she involved in?

“Is what I do illegal?” As much as she might want to hide from it, she needed to know the truth.

One corner of Sadiq’s mouth turned up in a sardonic grin. “You certainly don’t seem to think so.”

Which meant what? They did consider it illegal?

“Drugs? Guns?” Those were the first two things she thought of that she might do that would be of interest men like this.

“No guns. At least, not that we know of.” Sadiq picked up a chicken leg and munched, totally relaxed, as if he didn’t have a worry in the world.

That meant drugs. But she couldn’t picture herself selling drugs. It just felt…wrong.

The outside door slammed open, the wood panel smacking the wall before bouncing back. Jericho caught the edge of it before it hit him. “That’s enough,” he told Sadiq.

“No, no it’s not.” She stood on legs that trembled. “If I could know one thing about myself, then maybe the rest would come.” She stared at each man in turn. Enoch and Khalil wore no expressions, but there was no mistaking the amusement lurking in their eyes. Sadiq seemed resigned, while Jericho was obviously angry.

“So, I’m involved in drugs in some way.” Even saying it made her blood run cold. She didn’t want to be a person who dealt in banned substances.

“You run a pharmaceutical company,” Jericho told her with some reluctance.

That took the wind out of her sails, and she slumped back down into the chair. “Oh.” That wasn’t a bad thing, and the whole suit-and-boardroom situation she’d glimpsed in her memory made perfect sense. It also explained the things she seemed to instinctively know about herself. To be a woman running a large corporation, she’d have to be fearless and tenacious.

“Is that why you took me?” Although she was curious, there was, surprisingly, no sense of urgency.

Jericho came closer. She could smell the sun and wind on him, and maybe a hint of smoke. That didn’t make sense. It wasn’t cigarettes, either. More like wood smoke, but not quite. Maybe there was a fire pit out back.

“No, that’s not why we took you.”

He wasn’t helping. Not at all. “It’s not ransom you want?” Then she remembered their previous conversation. “Of course it isn’t.”

He leaned down, placing his hands on the back of the chair on either side of her shoulders. All she could see was Jericho. “We don’t want money,” he confirmed.

Heart pounding, her breath coming faster, she put both hands on his chest and shoved. She needed to get out of here, away from him. He didn’t move.

Claustrophobia enveloped her. The walls were pressing in and suffocating her. There wasn’t enough air. She pushed again, harder this time. When that didn’t work, she brought her leg up quickly, aiming her knee at his crotch.

“What the hell?” He jerked back just in time to save himself from a painful blow.

As soon as he was no longer hovering over her, she bolted. Not for the back door, since the kitchen was filled with big men, but toward the front of the house. She had no destination, no idea where she was going.

Get out.

There was yelling and swearing behind her, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t breathe. Stumbling, she reached for the door handle. Her vision narrowed, like she was peering through a dark tunnel. Focusing on the metal knob, she gripped and turned it.

When it opened, she surged through, keeping her forward momentum until she was down the steps and in the yard.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing. It didn’t seem possible that the rest of the world went on as though this were any normal day.

“Karina?” She heard her name as though from a great distance.

Her throat threatened to close. She clutched at it, desperately trying to suck in enough air to survive.

Strong hands landed on her shoulders and spun her around. It wasn’t anger, but concern reflected in Jericho’s dark eyes. Some light, some inner flame seemed to flicker there. Then it was gone, obviously a hallucination brought on by the lack of oxygen getting to her brain.

“Breathe,” he commanded.

She shook her head, unable to comply.

“Breathe, God damn it.” He placed his hand on her chest, covering part of her breast. “You fucking listen to me. You inhale.”

Faced with a will stronger than her own—at least for the time being—she tried to do as he asked. In spite of everything, she wasn’t ready to die or willing to give up.

Her lungs ached with even the tiny amount of air she managed to get into them.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Again.”

She released a small huff and inhaled a little more deeply. The world narrowed to Jericho’s voice and his familiar face. His forehead was broad, his cheekbones prominent, his nose hawkish. He was compelling, a force of nature. And like a tsunami or a volcano, he would not be denied.

By the time she was breathing normally again, her cheeks were hot with embarrassment. But she wasn’t apologizing for the outburst. Why should she? Jericho was her captor, not her friend.

“Okay now?” He ran his hand over her hair, being careful of her injuries.

“No.” She shook her head and was almost blinded by the pain. Panting a little harder, she pushed herself to continue. “How can I be? I don’t know anything about myself other than my first name is Karina and I run a pharmaceutical company. Oh, and I’ve pissed off a bunch of biker guys enough that they wanted to kill me but decided to kidnap me, instead.”

A snort of laughter made her whirl around. Sure enough, the other three were lounging on the porch watching. Which meant they’d seen her meltdown. “I’m not wrong,” she pointed out.

Sadiq shook his head. “No, you’re not.” He shoved away from the porch post he was leaning against, the small action somehow threatening. She wanted to take a step back but held her ground.

The weight of Jericho’s hands pressed down on her shoulders. He stood behind her—big, strong, a bulwark against the others. No, that wasn’t right. He had no reason to protect her.

She rubbed her forehead, totally confused and more than a little queasy. “If you have no plans to kill me at this moment, I’m going to lie down.”

Putting words into action, she took a step forward, half expecting Jericho to stop her. When he didn’t, she kept going. Sadiq watched but didn’t get in her way. Enoch opened the door.

Surprisingly, it was Khalil—the least threatening of the bunch, which really wasn’t saying much since he was still a scary badass—who stopped her by putting his hand on her arm. “Can you climb the stairs yourself?”

His small act of concern almost unraveled her, but she managed to give a small nod. A blatant lie, since her stomach was churning.

It took more strength than she thought she had to keep putting one foot in front of the other. The stairs seemed like a never-ending mountain, but she wrapped her hand around the railing and pulled herself up one at a time.

She was sweating profusely and shaking like a leaf when she finally made it to the top. Turning slightly, she glimpsed them all standing in the foyer watching her. What were they waiting for? For her to fall down the stairs?

Ignoring them, she went into the room she’d been given, gently closed the door, and practically collapsed onto the bed. Her canvas shoes slid off her feet, and she pulled her legs up toward her body. She was chilly, in spite of sweating, but couldn’t muster enough strength to pull the covers over her.

Closing her eyes, she dove into oblivion.

…

Jericho wanted to go after her, but that wasn’t wise. Not when he was as volatile as he was. He’d wanted to lift her in his arms and carry her upstairs, joining her on the bed. And neither of them was ready for that yet. Might never be. And that was fanning the flames of anger crackling inside him.

“She’s not well.” Khalil placed his hand on the railing but didn’t follow her. Good thing, or Jericho might be forced to rip his friend’s head off. No one was going to check on her but him.

Mine, his dragon half insisted.

“She’s one hell of a woman.” Sadiq’s voice was low, but Jericho heard it all too clearly.

Pivoting, he faced his friend. “She’s not for you.” Best they all know he was staking a claim on her.

“I don’t want her,” Sadiq told him. “She comes with way too much baggage, but I wouldn’t mind a woman as courageous.”

His Karina was something special.

He almost groaned at his thought. She wasn’t his anything. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “Do you think she’ll get her memory back?” he asked Khalil.

None of them had much medical knowledge, as they’d never needed it, but Khalil was the one who’d been interested enough to learn a bit over the years. Granted, it had been mostly so they could torture a human without killing him, knowledge they’d needed from time to time, but it could also be used to help, to heal.

“With injuries of this type, the memory usually comes back in a couple of days. But unlike most cases, she’s lost all her past, not just the time leading up to the accident.”

He mulled that over. “Could it have something to do with the tattoo?”

“I’m still digging,” Enoch told them. “It’s possible. It’s been on her skin for a while, with no obvious problems that we can see, so who knows. I’ll keep on combing the databases.” He looked at Khalil next.

“He’s right. I had a close-up look at the area as I was setting stitches. It’s not a new tattoo. The ink looked slightly faded in a couple of areas. Maybe that was simply part of the original design, but I don’t think so.”

“I think it’s partly emotional amnesia,” Sadiq interjected.

“Why?” Jericho asked, curious as to why he’d say such a thing. Karina was a strong woman and he’d said so.

“Maybe subconsciously she doesn’t want to remember. And she’s mentally tough enough to make that happen,” his friend pointed out.

That made a twisted kind of sense. “I need food.” He headed to the kitchen with the others behind him. He hadn’t eaten at all yet, and he knew they’d barely gotten enough food, holding back so Karina wouldn’t ask more questions.

“What will you do?” Sadiq asked.

There was no doubt as to what he had to do. “I’ll give her another day and see what happens. If her memory doesn’t come back on its own, I’m going to give her some of my blood. Claim it’s an experimental drug that will help her. It will heal her brain and other injuries. There’s no reason after that for her not to remember.”

“Unless she doesn’t want to,” Sadiq pointed out.

Enoch and his brother began cooking steaks and potatoes. Needing to keep busy, Jericho sliced large loaves of bread and slathered them in butter and cheese to heat in the oven.

Sadiq paused in the middle of putting on a fresh pot of coffee. “You’re really going to give her your blood?”

“Yes.” It was a huge step, and they all knew it. Not only was it incredibly personal, something that showed a level of commitment to Karina, there was also the risk of her turning on them, on him, if her memory returned full force.

The thought of her seeing him only as a commodity to be trapped and exploited was a spear through his already tortured heart.

They ate in silence. Not unusual, but not the norm, either. They often discussed upcoming jobs, books they’d read, or shows they’d watched on television. There was always something of interest to liven up their meals.

But not today.

When they’d finished and cleaned the kitchen, Enoch settled in at the table with his laptop. Khalil sat next to his brother on another computer, researching brain injuries. Sadiq went outside to patrol the area and allow his dragon side to come out.

They all knew where Jericho was going before he headed toward the staircase. All Sadiq had said to him before leaving was, “She’s a very dangerous woman, even without her memories. Be careful.”

He wasn’t sure he could be.

Assuming she was sleeping, he quietly let himself into Karina’s bedroom. She was lying on top of the bed still fully dressed. When he put his hand on her forehead, she was warm, possibly running a fever. But she was shivering, too. That couldn’t be good.

Leaving her in her leggings and sweater, he lifted her enough to tuck her under the covers. She made a snuffling sound and snuggled her head against the pillow. Unable to resist, he lowered himself to the bed beside her and curled his large body around hers.

Man and dragon both exhaled, breathing a huge sigh of relief. Karina was here with them, and she was safe.

He ignored all the obvious problems and simply allowed himself to be in this moment. Burying his nose in her hair, he inhaled, catching the flowery scent of whatever she’d used in the shower. He also scented blood.

Carefully, he eased down the neck of her sweater and studied the bandage on her shoulder. It was no longer pristine white but stained. He sensed the wound had stopped bleeding again. The scent of blood wasn’t quite fresh enough to still be flowing. It would be fine for now, but he’d have to check it or get Khalil to do so once she woke. Sleep was probably the best thing for her right now.

He had a memory of seeing something on a television show about how it was best to wake a person who had a concussion every few hours. He could do that.

With the sun lightening the room, he slipped one arm under her head and laid the other over her, gently enfolding her in his embrace.

She’d had a panic attack in the kitchen earlier. No doubt about it. What had brought it on? It wasn’t unexpected, considering the situation, but she’d held up amazingly well until then.

He’d had his hands on the back of her chair, leaning over her. Had she felt threatened? Caged?

His arms tightened fractionally around her. She’d have to learn she was safe with him.

But was she?

What would he do if she regained her memory and saw him as nothing more than a creature to be captured and contained—caged?

The irony wasn’t lost on him.

He wanted her to see him as a man, to accept the dragon side of him, and love both parts of him. Even thinking it, it sounded impossible.

But he was impossible, too. Drakons shouldn’t exist, yet they did. He was also stubborn. If there was a way to win her love, to gain her trust, he would do it.

He kissed her temple and closed his eyes. He didn’t need much sleep, but he wasn’t leaving her side for any reason.