CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Over the past several weeks, Colette had learned little things about herself, idiosyncrasies that amnesia had stolen momentarily. She’d discovered her abhorrence for the sight of blood, the fact that she hated green beans and now she realized how much she hated silence.
They had gotten up before dawn and left the motel. For the past hour they’d traveled at a fast clip down the highway, not a word spoken between them.
The sun peeked over the horizon, sending out shafts of light to dance amid the early morning clouds. It was going to be a beautiful day despite the fact that she was on her way to California for a trial that would probably make her a dead woman.
She sighed and shot a surreptitious glance at Hank. His attention was focused on the highway, his face devoid of all expression.
He was such an enigma, so hard on the surface, and yet she sensed a core of good in him that alleviated any fear she might have of him. He had a job to do and getting her to California was that job. She couldn’t hate him for that.
Since the moment of awakening that morning, Colette had waffled back and forth in deciding what was best for her to do. If her memories came back or somehow the government managed to retrieve them, should she testify or not? Her head insisted she testify, do whatever she could to put Cameron Collier behind bars. However, the prospect of revenge from the man and his cohorts made her faint of heart.
She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder for danger. There had to be a way out of this mess, but at the moment it eluded her.
She looked in the back seat, where Brook sat contented in the car seat. She moved her gaze back to Hank again, wanting something to occupy her thoughts besides her dilemma.
“How long will it take us to reach San Bernardino?” she asked, wanting to break the silence that had lingered too long for comfort.
“We’ll be there by tomorrow night.”
“Where are we going once we get there? Another four-star motel room?”
“No. There’s a safe house there. That’s where we’ll stay from now until the end of your testimony.”
“A safe house?”
He nodded. “A place owned by the government in a nice quiet suburb on the west side of the city. We’ll be okay there.”
“And then after I testify I just leave and wait for Collier’s retribution?”
“There’s another alternative. You could enter the witness protection plan.”
Colette frowned. “But doesn’t that mean I promise never to contact my friends or family again?” Sheshook her head. “No, that’s not a viable option as far as I’m concerned.” She stared out the window, where the sun had fully risen and chased away the last of the morning clouds. “As soon as I find Brook’s father, everything will be all right,” she said more to herself than to him.
“What do you mean by that?”
She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. I just feel like I could face whatever testifying might bring if I knew Brook’s father stood beside me, supported me and loved me.”
“What makes you think if you find him, that’s what he’ll do?” He glanced at her, his dark brow arched upward. “Maybe he’s just a coldhearted bastard.”
Colette shook her head. “No, that’s not possible. I could never love a coldhearted bastard.”
“And what makes you think you love Brook’s father?”
A blush warmed Colette’s cheeks. “Well, because…because I wouldn’t sleep with a man I didn’t love.”
Hank’s eyes glittered darkly. “That wasn’t the song you were singing last night.”
The blush grew hotter as she remembered how close she’d come to falling into bed with him. “A gentleman wouldn’t bring that up.”
He laughed, the sound rusty, as if laughing wasn’t something he did much. “Colette, I might be many things, but I never pretended to be a gentleman.”
She looked down at her hands clasped together in her lap. “I will admit something about you attractsme. It’s probably post-pregnancy hormones or something like that.”
He shook his head. “Can’t be that for me because I’ve never been pregnant.” His eyes sparkled wickedly as he gazed at her again. “And I feel the same kind of inexplicable lust where you’re concerned.”
The car interior suddenly seemed to shrink. The air grew thick and made it difficult to breathe. Colette lowered her window a couple of inches, although the warm outside air did little to relieve the heat that coiled inside her.
