“Three d-days. In that bed. I can’t…” If I were stronger, I’d tell him the tiny bed has become my prison. The place that reminds me how broken I am. It’s where I woke up. Where I realized my memory—my life—was gone. Here, in his arms, it’s safe in a way I need more than anything.
A frown curves his lips. But then he nods. “Okay. Not the bed. What about the recliner? Or…we could go back to the atrium.”
We. I clutch that single word so tightly, it takes me several seconds to realize he’s waiting for an answer. I wish we could stay right here, but he can’t be comfortable sitting on the cold tile floor.
“Just want…you to hold me.”
My words unleash something wild in his eyes. Something that looks a lot like love. I don’t remember loving him, but I believe I did. Maybe…I still can one day.
AJ presses a light kiss to the top of my head. It’s barely a touch, but I feel it down to my toes. For that instant, the cold, empty space where I used to be warms. “I can do that, darlin’. For as long as you need.”
He gives the quilt a light tug, then carefully wraps it around me. Is the scent—gardenias, I think—familiar? Or do I just need it to be?
“Let’s see if that poor excuse for a La-Z-Boy will fit us both.” For the first time all day, his smile isn’t forced, and mine…well, it might just have found its way back from wherever it was locked away.
I drift in AJ’s arms. Not quite asleep, but not awake either. From time to time, he whispers something against my hair, but I can’t quite make out the words. They don’t matter, because the tone is clear. Reassuring. Comforting. Loving.
Until a brisk knock on the door pulls a hoarse yelp from my lips. “Shhh, darlin’. It’s just the doc. You’re safe.”
I blink hard until I can focus on Dr. Reyes. He isn’t wearing his usual warm smile. “Grace? Is your memory returning?”
“No,” I say softly.
“Oh. I thought…” He gestures to the two of us crammed together in the tiny chair. Heat blooms on my cheeks until I remember it’s my husband holding me.
“She got dizzy,” AJ says, his back stiffening and his voice taking on a hard edge. “She fell.”
Dr. Reyes pulls a tiny pen light from his pocket and checks my eyes. It hurts—every time—but I’m used to it by now, and manage not to flinch.
“Your pupil response is normal. That is good. You did not hit your head, did you?”
“I caught her,” AJ grits out. “But if I’d been a second later…”
The doctor’s gaze softens. “Dizziness, vertigo, even the amnesia are not uncommon in the early stages of recovery from a traumatic brain injury. I will run another CT scan in a few minutes to check for any additional swelling. But there is something we must discuss first.”
“Unless it’s life and death, get her the damn scan right now.” AJ shifts his arms around me, like he’s about to sit up. “Please,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.
Reyes shoves his hands into the pockets of his white coat. “This will not take long, AJ, but it is important. Miguel Sandoval is coming to the clinic tomorrow around noon. If you and your friends are still here, I fear what his reaction will be.”
I look up at my husband, confused. “Friends?”
AJ helps me turn so I can see his face. “I didn’t come down here alone, darlin’. My brother, a friend of ours who used to be in the FBI, and one of my lieutenants came too. In case Sandoval made trouble.”
I’m so confused. Who is this Sandoval and why is Reyes afraid of him?
“What…trouble?” The words are coming easier now. They don’t fill me with as much panic—at least not with AJ.
“Miguel Sandoval is head of the Sandoval Cartel,” he explains. “He controls all of Chihuahua and most of Coahuila all the way to the Texas border. And unless I’m a complete idjit, the reason this clinic has all the equipment it does, the reason it even exists, is because the good doctor here is the cartel’s personal physician.”
Reyes stares down at his polished black shoes. I never thought to ask why he worked here. Or why there was a clinic in the middle of nowhere.
“If Grace’s scan shows no additional swelling, bleeding, or clots,” the doctor says, finally meeting AJ’s gaze, “you should leave first thing in the morning.”
“And if it ain’t safe for her to travel yet?” AJ’s arms tighten around me. “You run a clinic, doc. You treat the injured. Sandoval doesn’t need to know who we are.”
Reyes’ thin laugh isn’t reassuring. “The four of you reek of law enforcement, Captain Stone, and Miguel is no fool. Treating one of the locals? That I could explain easily. But the wife of a Texas Ranger? The missing wife of a Texas Ranger? He would shoot me for keeping this from him. You and your friends would disappear. Miguel does not harm innocent women, so Grace would survive, but she would be alone, and that… No. Either she is well enough to get on your fancy plane in the morning, or you will have to drive to Chihuahua and hide there until she is.”
“Fuckin’ hell. There ain’t nothin’ I want more than to take Grace home, but I won’t risk hurtin’ her. So you give her that scan, Reyes. And you better be damn sure of the results.”
