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“Teagan?”
She glanced up from the history magazine she’d been absently flipping through without reading anything and looked across the waiting area to find a woman with short, dark brown hair and dark-rimmed glasses smiling politely at her. Unlike everyone else who worked here at Crimson Point Security, she was dressed in jeans, knee-high boots and a pink cable knit sweater rather than business attire.
Teagan set down the magazine and stood. “Yes?”
“I’ve got your phone for you. I’m Ember by the way,” she said as she closed the distance between them.
“Hi.” She took the phone. It still didn’t look familiar at all. Didn’t trigger anything in her memory. Was it even hers? Or had someone planted it on her? “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Callum called and asked if I could come in to take a look at it. I was able to get it working again but it’s password protected. If you enter it now, we can check to make sure everything’s functional before you leave.”
Teagan pressed the home button and stared at the password prompt, thinking hard. But she had no idea what it was. “I...don’t remember.” The modicum of hope she’d been clinging to for the past two hours faded. She’d been counting on the phone jogging her memory and giving her vital information about her identity and life. But it was just another dead end.
“Oh. Well, maybe it will come to you later. I can take a crack at it myself if you want, or let someone in the tech department here try for you.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m sure it’ll come to me.” She didn’t know where the refusal came from, but it was automatic. Some inner sense telling her to keep whatever was on the phone private.
“Sure. If you change your mind, just contact reception here and they’ll be able to reach me.” She smiled again. “Good luck.”
Teagan returned the smile but her whole face felt stiff doing it. She was going to need all the help she could get. Her cash was running out fast and she was lucky to have been given a room at a local hotel rather than a shelter.
She took the stairs to the ground level rather than taking the elevator, the idea of being in the enclosed space making her uncomfortable. The phone was in her right hand as she exited the building, trying to figure out what the password might be. A sequence of numbers? A word?
She tried a few numbers that didn’t work. Tried her name. That didn’t work either.
“Hey—”
She whirled toward the source of a deep voice, glimpsed the big man looming close behind her and reacted without thinking, driving her fist at his throat.
He blocked it just in time with his forearm even as she winced at the pain along her ribs, snapping his head to the side and stepping back with his hands held up in a non-threatening manner. “Whoa,” he said, staring at her like she was crazy.
And maybe she was.
They stood feet apart, staring at each other. She recognized him as the man staying in the hotel room next to hers. Tall. Short, medium-brown hair. Powerfully built with a commanding presence. She’d seen him upstairs earlier waiting for an appointment.
“I’m sorry,” she said, shocked by what she’d just done. The complete overreaction and automatic nature of it. And that it had all felt completely natural. “I...sorry.” She didn’t know what the hell else to say.
“It’s okay.” He eyed her warily. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t scare me.” Her answer was swift and instinctive. She didn’t know where the defensive edge was coming from. Only that she refused to admit that he’d startled her.
Never show fear. Never show weakness.
She didn’t know where that voice at the back of her mind came from. “Just caught me off guard.” But that reaction. The way she’d instinctively planted her feet and aimed her fist directly at his throat... It felt familiar. Natural.
Something slid into place at the back of her mind. An easing that brought a measure of comfort, but no answers. Leaving her more confused.
The man’s hazel eyes tracked over her face, making her conscious of the bruises and swelling there. “I was just heading back to the hotel and wanted to say you’re welcome to ride with me if you’re heading over there. I’m Decker, by the way.”
She checked her gut. Felt no fear or foreboding. And with limited funds and not knowing who she was, making an acquaintance wasn’t a bad idea. “Okay, yeah, that’d be great. And I’m Teagan.”
He nodded once, the hint of a smile softening his hard features. “This way.” He kept a respectful distance from her on the way to his car and opened the door for her.
She murmured her thanks and got in the passenger seat, not in the least bit uncomfortable with him for some reason.
He settled in the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Are you a martial artist?”
“I don’t think so.” Unless...maybe?
He shot her a funny look. “You’re not sure?”
“No.” She didn’t want to talk about this, but something about him made her feel safe in spite of her initial reaction. Which was crazy, since she’d literally just tried to throat punch him a minute ago. “I had an accident and hit my head pretty hard. My memory’s not as sharp as it should be.” It was pretty much blank right now.
He glanced at her in concern, then focused back on the road. “That has to be tough.”
“Yeah.”
“Were you at CPS for an interview?”
“No. Trying to get my phone fixed. It was damaged in the accident and the sheriff told me to bring it in there.”
“Ah. Did they fix it?”
“I think so.” But she wouldn’t know for sure until she figured out what the hell her password was. “Were you there for an interview?”
He nodded. “Personal protection position.”
“You former military?” He looked it, and he’d blocked her punch expertly. He definitely had training.
“Marines. Just got out. My sister moved here, so I figured I’d apply for the job and see how things went.”
“Did you get it?”
“Not yet. Got a second interview next week though.”
“That’s good.”
He made a sound of agreement and they lapsed into silence. She got the feeling that he didn’t like small talk much either. And it was odd to know she didn’t like small talk but couldn’t remember her last name or what had happened to her.
At the hotel, he pulled into a parking spot behind the building and cut the engine. “Look,” he said, swiveling slightly in his seat to face her. “Are you in trouble? If you are, I can help you.”
She stared at him, taken aback by the offer. And also touched. Was she in trouble? Yeah, something told her she might be. A vague sense of foreboding she couldn’t shake. But then she realized he probably thought she was a domestic violence victim. “I’m okay. Thanks though.”
He nodded once, looking unconvinced. He had gorgeous eyes. Actually, he was pretty gorgeous all over with that square jaw and powerful body. And he’d been kind to her even though she’d tried to punch him earlier. “All right. But if you change your mind, I’m right next door. Probably for the next few days, anyway.”
She gave him a polite smile. “Well. Thanks for the ride.”
“Welcome. See you around.”
“Yeah, see you.” She got out and quickly hurried to the door before he could reach it, breathing a small sigh of relief when she made it up the stairs and to her room just as the stairwell door opened and he stepped through. She locked her door behind her, then sat on the bed facing the water and guessed at more passwords, none of which worked.
This was so damn frustrating. Who was she? What was she doing here in this little town? Who had attacked her? The sheriff was still trying to help identify her, and had contacted the FBI to assist with their databases.
The memory of being on that boat was sharp in her mind. She remembered standing on the deck, the feel of it rocking beneath her.
Destiny.
The word popped into her mind, clear as if she’d spoken it aloud. Not expecting it to actually work, she typed it into the password screen in lowercase letters.
The phone magically came to life. She sat up straighter, held her breath as she checked the apps on it. She found images of the boat in the photo section.
Her heart started beating faster when she saw the name painted across its stern. Destiny.
There were a dozen more, showing it moored at a dock at night. But nothing personal. No pictures of her or anyone else. No pets, no smiling faces that could have been friends or family. Had she known the owner of the boat?
She checked the text messages next. Shock rippled through her when she found a short chain of messages there. All from the same number. One of them included a picture.
She tapped on it.
A thirty-something man with dark brown hair and eyes appeared. Grim expression. Looked like either a military or government ID, though she wasn’t sure how she knew that.
Below it was a name.
Warwick James.
She sucked in a breath, winced and pressed a hand to her stitches, staring at the man’s image. She knew that name. He had rescued her from the beach.
Why did she have his picture on...
Her eyes stopped on the final message. She went cold all over as the truth hit her in a rush, along with a barrage of information that suddenly flooded back, filling the empty spaces in her mind.
And what it revealed wasn’t comforting.
That saying careful what you wish for had never rung so true. She’d wanted to remember who she was and what she was doing here. Now she knew.
But Warwick James had saved her life and paid to put a roof over her head without even knowing who she was.
She owed him for that.
****
Simon skirted the edge of the park on the way back to where he’d left his car earlier. Marley’s car was out front of her house but after checking the property thoroughly he was satisfied she wasn’t home. He’d needed to verify that prior to heading to the other location.
He was betting James had taken her with him. If he had come all the way from the UK to see her, there was no way he would leave her behind now.
Simon had hoped to take her first. She was a much softer target than James, but the two of them being together might work in Simon’s favor. She was James’s weakness. He could exploit that.
He shot off a quick message to Roland first. On way to suspect house.
His mobile’s GPS got him to the area within twenty minutes. But rather than heading down the dead-end street in broad daylight, he pulled to the side of a road two streets away alongside a stretch of heavily wooded land and got out to do his recon on foot.
The dense forest gave him the perfect camouflage as he moved close to the edge of the road toward his target. All the rain had made the ground soft, would leave prints in the earth so he had to be careful where he went so as not to leave a trail for anyone to find or follow.
Within minutes he was hidden just behind the tree line directly across from the house. Older, wood-sided thing in dire need of a paint job. Or a bulldozer.
There wasn’t another soul around, no other properties on this stretch of road. The driveway was empty and all the windows facing the road were covered. There was no smoke or steam leaving from the chimney either.
He kept going, moving through the woods to skirt around the far end of the dead-end street, then up the hill to the edge of the property. The trees began to thin here, allowing him to see the chain-link fence enclosing a decent-sized back lawn. More forest sat behind it, enclosing the property on three sides.
A steady rain was falling now, the wind picking up as he crept all the way around the back of the property line, carefully using the trees as cover. The windows at the back and sides of the house were all covered as well. And the car sitting in a pullout behind the house, while a rental, wasn’t the same one he’d seen in front of James’s rental yesterday.
There was no cell service out here so he used a sat phone to message his contact, asking him to run this new plate.
Gimme a few minutes.
He kept scouting the property in the meantime, searching for a way to see inside without revealing himself or tripping any cameras or sensors James might have put up outside. And then a message came through.
Rental agreement names Decker Abrams, from Kentucky.
No way he wasn’t related to Marley.
Simon smiled to himself as he tucked the phone away, staring at the darkened house. If Marley was inside, James would be with her.
Gotcha, you righteous bastard.
Much as he wanted to end James immediately, entering the house now would be reckless. So he kept going, tamping down the sudden spike in impatience and wound his way through the trees until he was well clear of the property before crossing the road and backtracking to his vehicle. While he carefully checked and readied his weapons, he considered his options.
It took less than a minute for him to formulate a plan and make his decision. He messaged Roland from the sat phone.
It’s him. Moving into position.
The dead-end road gave him a major tactical advantage, as did the element of surprise. A direct assault was too risky. Now that he knew where James was, he had time. He could wait for James to leave, or he could flush him out. Both worked with his plan.
Either way, James was down to his last day on this earth.
