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The sayings only added to the level of vulnerability I sensed in her as well as created more of a longing to protect her. I chose the single one with no saying, although the colorful picture reminded me of something the child might have drawn. I found the coffee pods and watched the little boy chatting with Max as if the two were long lost human friends.
And I could swear the pup knew exactly what the kid was saying, even though I wasn’t entirely certain of every word. Maybe the kid had an imagination like I did. The thought caught me off guard. Did I? The coffee made, I added some milk, pulling the mug to my nose to inhale the aroma. I certainly remembered the scent of fresh coffee.
“So, little man. What do you like to do?”
He studied me carefully all over again. “Fly.”
“Like Superman?”
His giggles were addictive. They also made me smile. “No, silly. Like a plane. Love planes.” He ran back and forth, acting as if his glass of milk was flying high in the sky. I watched him intently, as if the kid represented a reason to live.
As well as finding out who I was. Still, the images of weapons and a raging fire that continued to permeate the forefront of my mind reminded me that maybe I didn’t want to find the answers.
Max suddenly left the conversation he was having, barking once then heading toward the back door. He sat down on his haunches again, whining as if something was wrong. It took me a few seconds to figure out what he was asking for.
“You need to go out, buddy?” I asked. He snuffled in response. “Okay. I think I can handle that.”
My shoes were still waterlogged, the leather probably ruined. Barefoot it would be. As soon as I opened the door, both the dog and his human raced outside, but not before I managed to snag the glass of milk, laughing the moment I saved it. After placing it on the kitchen table, I headed outside, taking a deep whiff of the morning air.
The fact I’d ended up on her shore continued to bother me and I scanned the water, another moment where my instinct kicked in. I had another very strong sense of danger and that bothered me. Lifting my gaze, I shielded my eyes from the light glare, able to make out dozens of other homes speckled throughout the various coves. There were also boats in the water, none drawing my attention other than to note they were allowed on the lake. Her thought I’d been knocked from a boat was good one. That would explain the gash on my head. The bullet I’d taken was something else entirely.
My chest still ached like a son of a bitch, but Georgia had been right in that if I hadn’t been wearing the Kevlar, I would be dead, the bullet aimed at my heart.
With my coffee cup in my hand, I walked across the deck, eyeing the kid carefully as he ran around Max while the pup did his business.
There were high clouds in the sky, but they couldn’t diminish the pastel colors shooting across the sky like a rainbow. I wondered if the man I’d been before the… accident had bothered to stop and look up. I had no clue why I was thinking of that except that everything was new to me, fresh.
Unblemished.
Like the woman I’d shared passion with.
The boy squealed as Max began to chase him, drawing my attention back to the beautiful setting, the rolling green grass well maintained. I gathered the aroma of flowers and instantly recognized the scent as roses. My mother’s favorite. Hmmm… A real memory. Maybe there was hope.
I headed off the deck toward them. There were two colors, vivid red and blushing pink, both species infused together in a single plant. I seemed to remember my mother tending to a huge patch of them growing against the backdrop of an iron fence underneath a morning sky similar to the one above me.
Maybe it was only a matter of time before I regained my memory. Then again, maybe I didn’t want to remember who or, more important, what I was.
“No. No. No! Dillon!” The slam of the back door grabbed my attention, Georgia racing off the deck in one leap, missing the stairs entirely. I could tell the moment she noticed her son.
Dillon seemed confused, spinning around, his little face scrunching up.
She gasped audibly before racing to him, dropping to her knees and clutching him against her shaking body. “Oh, baby. Oh, baby. Don’t do that to Mommy. You scared her to death.”
The kid was terrified of her actions, immediately bursting into woeful tears. Max jumped around them, barking insistently.
I was shocked at her behavior, although Dillon couldn’t be more than four. Still, her reaction highlighted my earlier belief that her fear was based in something else going on in her life. Keeping my actions slow and steady, I walked toward them, gently placing my hand on her shoulder.
Georgia stiffened immediately, shaking more than I’d originally thought. I gave Max a stern look and he immediately stopped barking, lying down on the soft grass yet keeping his eyes on me.
“It’s okay, Georgia. I wouldn’t let anything happen to your boy.”
Her only answer was an excruciating sob before she stood, pressing her hand against the back of Dillon’s head against her shoulder and storming toward the back door. Max studied me for a few seconds before dutifully following, trotting instead of running toward the door.
She was more terrified than before, which meant our passionate encounter, being forced to face the scar all over again had dredged something terrible from her past. How many years ago had the bastard laid his hands on her? She was running, hiding. Yes. I was certain of it. Whoever had carved the symbol into her had laid claim to not only her body but her soul as well. Men like that didn’t like to have their pretty possessions taken from them.
I didn’t need my memory to tell me that. I was certain of it because I knew that’s the kind of man I was.
No man like me would ever allow something so precious out of his control for long. I fisted my hand, rage sliding into permanent position. She was in danger.
