Run to Me (7 page)

Did she remember Rosemount but for some reason didn’t want to tell him? Or had she faked regaining her memory, hoping to catch Ethan off guard? He waited to make sure she’d actually fallen asleep. He didn’t like not trusting her, the gash in his side a reminder that he couldn’t let his guard down again. After several moments of watching her deep, even breaths, he pulled himself up and headed outside again. He needed time to himself, to think and to plan.

She blinked slowly. Her eyelids heavy and thick-feeling. Why was it so dark? Where was she? Had the demons taken her to a place of permanent darkness? She tried to move and caught herself in a groan. Agony pounded. Her head throbbed, and every muscle she possessed felt as though she’d wrenched it. Had she been tortured?

She shifted. A big, hard body lay beside her. The demon? If he slept, she could escape. Ignoring the pain tearing through her body, she got to her knees and crawled toward a small slice of light, assuming it was an entrance.

A low, sleepy growl stopped her. “Where’re you going?”

“I … I need …”

“Hold on. I’ll take you.”

For a demon, he sounded surprisingly agreeable.

“I can go by myself.”

“Shea, you probably won’t walk two feet before you fall over.”

Memory flickered. That name again. Why did he keeping calling her that name? Before she could move an inch more, he was at her side, helping her up and then pushing her gently through the small opening of the cave, into daylight. One step out of the cave, her legs turned to mush. A small cry left her lips as she felt herself falling forward. Strong arms wrapped around her.

“I got you.”

He carried her to a large green bush. After lowering her feet to the ground, he held her shoulders till she could stand. “Need me to stay?”

Avoiding his eyes, she shook her head, strangely affected by the gruff but gentle tone.

He backed away without a word and gave her privacy. Her hand closed around a limb of the bush to steady herself as her bleary eyes looked around. Vegetation surrounded them. She should try to escape. The master would expect her to take advantage of this brief freedom.

Somehow, relieving the pressure on her bladder seemed even more important. Besides, judging by the pain radiating through her limbs and head, she wouldn’t get but a few feet away before she collapsed. No, she would wait until she felt better; then she would make her escape.

After she finished, she turned … and the world kept turning. As the ground rose up to meet her, hands caught and held her tight. “I’m here.” Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her effortlessly to the cave.

Back inside, he eased her down on the makeshift bed and handed her a canteen. “I’ve tried to keep you hydrated as much as possible, but you’ve been pretty out of it. Drink as much as you want. I refilled it from the rain we had earlier. I can always get more.”

A faint flash of something that felt like gratitude went through her mind. She mentally shook her head at such a strange notion. This man was her captor. If she felt anything for him, it should be hatred. He might not have killed her, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t. He’d claimed he had rescued her. She hadn’t needed rescuing.

She took several long drinks, her parched throat relishing the relief.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

He was silent for several seconds, and she knew he was looking at her, accessing. Then he asked quietly, “What were you called at the compound?”

Agony speared through her head. Her fingers pressed against her temples, which pounded in tandem with her pulse. A name? Why had she never wondered about this? Other people had names at the compound. She didn’t remember anyone calling her anything other than “woman.” The master called her
gatita …
little cat. But she didn’t have a real name. Why?

“Not Shea?”

“No.” Her head pounded harder.
Who was she?

“Are you hungry?”

Her panic blurred as her stomach growled and rebelled simultaneously. She knew it was empty, but anything she put inside her would come back up. “No.”

“Then why don’t you try to sleep a little more?”

Why was his voice so tender and soothing? Earlier, when he abducted her, he’d been surly and mean. Was it just another ploy to throw her off her guard? If so, it wouldn’t work. Nevertheless, she found herself lying down on the blanket and allowing him to cover her. She blinked hazily up at him. The cave was dim, and her head pounded with a relentless rhythm, but for a second, she thought she saw something in the way he moved, the way he turned his head … was it familiar?

When she’d woken earlier, the name Ethan had come easily to her lips. Did that mean something? Her exhausted mind veered from that wild thought. Of course it didn’t. He’d told her his name, and she’d used it to her advantage. Keep your opponent off guard and uncertain … that’s what she’d been taught. But hadn’t his name caused a small blip in her mind? Did she know him after all?

She closed her eyes on this ridiculous thought. The man was her abductor, nothing more. She fell asleep with the knowledge that when she woke, she would probably have to kill him. For some strange reason, that bothered her.

Hours later, Ethan woke to the sounds of Shea thrashing around again, moaning about demons and beasts. Were these things in her subconscious because of the drugs or had they been fed to her along with the drugs?

Feeling like centuries-old dead dirt, he pulled her close to soothe her. “No one’s going to harm you again, I promise.”

“I hurt.”

The little-girl voice tore at him as if he’d given her the pain himself. “I know, sweetheart, but it’ll get better.”

Her voice, weak and hoarse, was full of cautious curiosity. “Why are you being so kind to me?”

Ethan peered down at her. Was she acting or was she too weak to try to pretend? “Because I care about you.”

“How can you care? You don’t even know me.”

Already making the decision to share small amounts of information in the hopes that it might help, he said, “You’re Shea Monroe. Your birthday is May twelfth. You’re thirty years old. You grew up in Omaha, Nebraska. Your mother and father split up when you were just a baby.”

“Is that all you can tell me?”

About her childhood? Hell, yes. No way would he give her even more nightmares. “You work for an organization called Last Chance Rescue. You help people.”

“I do?”

His chest tightened at the small note of hope in her voice. “Yes, you’ve saved a lot of people.”

“I saved people?” She sounded as though this was a foreign concept.

“A lot of people.”

She was silent for a few seconds, as if absorbing the information, then said, “And do you also work for this organization?”

“Yes.”

She raised her hand and rubbed her forehead. “Why don’t I remember?”

“Because someone’s been giving you drugs to make you forget.”

“Who? Why?”

“A man by the name of Donald Rosemount.”

Her body went stiff.

“Do you remember him?”

Her eyes flickered closed as she shook her head. “I’m so tired.”

Leaning forward, he kissed the top of her head. “I know you are.”

“Are we lovers?”

“Why?”

“You keep caressing me. I just wondered.”

“We were at one time.”

“But no longer?”

“No.”

“What happened?”

Ethan pulled himself up. Talking about their past … how stupid he’d been. Hell, he’d rather swallow rocks. But she was waiting for an answer. He could lie. Tell her the things he’d always told her … that he hadn’t loved her, hadn’t wanted to spend his life with her.

There were too many lies between them already, but he saw no point in unearthing more demons for either of them. Yet there was one truth he had never denied. “I thought you deserved better.”

A hint of something like humor flickered in her face. “So you made up my mind for me? You sound very arrogant.”

He grinned. That was a very Shea-like comment. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?”

Confused green eyes searched his face, as if she was willing herself to remember him. A slender, shaky finger traced the scar on his cheek. “How did this happen?”

“Wrong place, wrong time.”

The disappointment in her expression forced the truth. “Car wreck when I was a teenager.” He touched his face. “My souvenir.”

“There was more to your injury than just physical.”

“Yes,” he said quietly.

“Someone else was hurt?”

“Yes.”

“You feel responsible.”

A statement, not a question. He didn’t bother agreeing.

She waited for several seconds. When he didn’t answer, she asked, “Why are your eyes black? Were you hurt rescuing me?”

She didn’t remember hitting him with the canteen? “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry to be such trouble for you.”

Shea Monroe was the least docile person he’d ever met. If she’d been herself, she would have laughed and told him he needed to do more training because he was obviously rusty. He missed her smart mouth.

Breaking off part of a protein bar, he handed it to her. “Try to eat this. I’m hoping by tomorrow, you’ll feel well enough to travel.”

“Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“Where is home?”

Good question. Shea had a house in Key West, Florida. She and Cole had lived there after they married. But there was no way she could live on her own. First of all, she still didn’t know who she was. Secondly, Rosemount would probably be combing the country trying to find her. He gave her the only answer he could, knowing deep down that he wanted this more than anything.

“You live in the United States … in Tennessee.” He paused. “With me.”

Tilting her head, she looked a little startled and then, doing what she’d done since they’d started this conversation, she accepted what he’d said as fact. “It will be nice to go home.”

“Yes, it will.”

After she ate, she slept for several more hours. When she woke, it was early afternoon, and though she seemed weak and confused, she was docile. Ethan figured that was the best he could hope for right now.

She shifted on the blanket and he knew her body had to be sore and uncomfortable. Going through withdrawal anywhere was no picnic. Experiencing it while on the floor of a cave in the middle of the Mexican jungle with a stranger you thought was your enemy would be a piece of hell.

“Do you need to go outside?”

Her mind even more exhausted than her body, she shook her head. The demons had quieted in her nightmares and the pain had lessened, but the insidious doubts remained. This man seemed to believe what he told her. If he spoke the truth, she’d been drugged and used. All her memories were gone. If, however, he was lying, planning something evil, she should try to escape. Her mind felt so muddled and confused. Should she believe him? Should she try to escape? Indecision wasn’t something she was used to, or knew how to comprehend.

Still weak and helpless, she could only wait and see what happened.

“Feel like sitting up and eating something?”

“Yes.”

His arms rock hard and steady, he scooped her up and leaned her back against the stone wall of the cave. The trees and bushes he’d used to block the entrance had been removed, and dim light flooded the small space.

An unwrapped protein bar appeared in her hand. “Eat it slowly, as much as you can. Your stomach may not be ready for a whole bar, but you need to get your strength back.”

Taking a small bite, she chewed with determination. It tasted like artificially sweetened cardboard, but she soon found herself feeling stronger.

He arched a golden brow. “Better?”

“Yes.” Then, surprising herself, she said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

After several swallows of water from the canteen he offered, she asked, “What is this Last Chance organization you said I work for? What is its function?”

“Pretty much what I did with you.” A broad shoulder shifted in a lazy shrug. “We rescue people who’ve been abducted.”

“And that happens a lot?”

His rusty chuckle caused an odd stirring within her. “Yeah, a hell of a lot more than most people think.”

“Why are these people taken?”

“Ransom. Extortion. Sexual predators. Slavery. Prostitution. You name it, it’s been done. Selling human beings for all sorts of vile acts has become big business.”

“That is … interesting.” She’d almost said “sad” but had stopped herself. What was or wasn’t sad was not something she could differentiate. Nor was it her place to try.

“Yeah … interesting, but mostly sad.”

Uncomfortable that he’d stated her thoughts, she shifted on the thin blanket. Her bottom had gone numb, but finding a comfortable position seemed impossible.

“Why don’t we go outside and let you get some fresh air. After all that water, you probably need to relieve yourself.”

Bodily functions were normal and nothing to be ashamed of. Why, then, did she feel her cheeks redden? Embarrassment? Could she be feeling an emotion that only a few days ago she had no concept or understanding of, other than to acknowledge its existence?

“You okay?”

Nodding, not wanting him to question her, she pulled herself to her feet. When she swayed, his hands were there to steady her.

“Take slow, small steps till you get your balance.”

She shuffled toward the cave entrance. Once outside, she pulled in deep breaths. Though the air was heavy and thick, it still felt fresh and sweet on her skin and in her lungs.

Birds skittered across branches, while insects and other small creatures created a symphony of clashing sounds that for some reason seemed both exciting and scary. When was the last time she had listened to nature? Her days were always filled with training and following orders. Nights were filled with duties … she blinked as her vision narrowed, tunneled toward darkness. Swaying, she reached out a hand; the man beside her grabbed it and held her tight.

“I got you, Shea. You need to sit down?”

She shook her head quickly, hoping to clear it. For a moment, a vision of something truly horrific touched her mind. Unable to comprehend the meaning, she veered away from the thought.