“Not at all. It’s your house. You can put them wherever you want. I promise not to touch them.”
“Maybe I’ll take you shooting one of these days. It’s not a bad skill to have.”
“I’m game.”
“In the meantime…” He walked over to the kitchen drawer that held the gun she’d found earlier and pulled out a small black cylindrical canister. “I think you should at least carry this for now. I should have given it to you yesterday, before you went back to campus.”
“What is it?”
“Pepper spray. You point and shoot.” He showed her how to hold it and where to push. “If you ever have to use it, just make sure you spray and run. You definitely don’t want to breathe in any of this stuff.”
“Okay. Emergency only. Spray and run. Got it.” She took it and put it in her purse.
“All right. I’m gonna jump in the shower and change. You wanna go get dinner after I clean up?”
“Sounds good. I was going to make something but lost track of time. I’ll finish up what I’m working on and be ready in ten minutes.”
As soon as she heard the shower start, she rushed to the bathroom to run a brush through her hair and gargle with mouthwash. She dabbed on a bit of mascara and a hint of lip gloss. Just a touch. She didn’t want him to think she was trying too hard, but didn’t want to look frumpy, either.
They agreed on Chinese food and drove into town to a little place Jake recommended. Over dinner, he told her that two of the three troopers that had been sick were supposed to be back the next day, so he was clear to take the rest of the week off if needed.
After assuring him repeatedly that she was fine without him, he reluctantly decided to return to working, and for the next few days, they fell into somewhat of a routine. He’d leave for work, and then she either did homework or went to Grinder’s, depending on what Susan needed. In the afternoon, she’d go to classes and then make something for dinner. Well, attempt to make something for dinner.
She wasn’t sure if she knew how to cook and had forgotten, or if she was just terrible at it, with or without memories. Jake was either very magnanimous, a glutton for punishment, or just plain desperate. But each evening he kept his mouth shut and ate whatever she put in front of him. Everyone had flaws. Apparently, one of Hannah’s involved the kitchen. They would eat whatever crap she made for dinner, then study or watch TV.
At first, she’d been a little scared about leaving the house alone, repeatedly looking over her shoulder for the boogeyman while on the train and on campus. But after a few incident-free excursions, the fear eased. Whoever pushed her had messed up her life enough, and she refused to cower in fear or put her plans on hold because of him. She wouldn’t give him that power over her.
Thursday morning, Hannah stopped at the hair salon to have her hair washed again and then drove herself to the doctor’s office where she received a thumbs up on her healing progress. The doctor told her she might even be able to get out of the cast early, which almost made her cry with joy. She was still sore and taking over-the-counter painkillers at constant intervals, but felt a little stronger every day. And the cut on her eye was healing nicely. The color had faded from black to blue to a ghoulish yellow.
Every day it got harder to keep her relationship with Jake platonic. Spending evenings with him, no matter what they did, just made her more and more curious as to what could have happened with them. She kept waiting for a big red flag to pop up that would clue her in on why she’d given him the heave-ho. Porn addict? Smelly feet? Called his mother every night? So far, nothing like that. Just hotness and sweetness oozing from every pore.
He made even the most mundane things hot as hell. Loading the dishwasher, chewing on a pen while he concentrated on his study materials—didn’t matter. He made it all look good. She still had sex on her mind. After that kiss they’d shared, how could she not? It took every ounce of self-discipline not to throw him down and have her way with him. He hadn’t said another word about the kiss on the porch, so neither did she. But it was never far from her thoughts.
One evening, driven to distraction, she’d finally excused herself to go to her room so she could get something done. All the testosterone and pheromones in the air made it impossible to concentrate.
The weekend was coming up. Maybe she could get a few beers in him and coerce him into telling her the real reason she’d turned him down. The more she got to know him, the harder it was to believe she’d done the dumping. She was becoming more and more certain that he’d dumped her and was just trying to spare her feelings because she’d been hurt. That would be an embarrassing memory to wake up to.
If ithadbeen her decision, the reason must have been lame with a capital L. She needed her memory back so she could prove to him she was in her right mind and still wanted him.
In the meantime, she thought about ways to convince him that she didn’t need her memories to know she was hot for him. He was being so nice to her though, and she really needed him. Or at least needed his house, car, computer, and protection. The last thing she wanted to do was repay his kindness by making things awkward between them.
She’d put off going back to her apartment until Jake could accompany her. Hopefully, they could make time over the weekend. She wanted to search for a journal or diary. Information about Jake might be there, but she also needed to find that down payment money. Susan understood that the deal was on hold until Hannah could remember where it was and seemed okay with it, but Hannah could also tell it made her nervous. She and her husband had a timeline to sell and get out of town, and waiting too long would mess that up. The original plan was to wait until Hannah graduated and then start the sale. Which meant she had a little over a month to get her shit together and her memory back before Susan might start rethinking the deal. No pressure.
CHAPTER TWENTY
By Thursday, which was Jake’s last workday of the week, he was ready for a three-day weekend. He’d told Hannah most day shifts were boring, which was true, but today wasn’t one of those days. Some days his job just plain sucked, and today had been one ofthosedays. As a trooper, he’d seen a lot of accidents, a lot of death, but the collision he spent the day investigating and doing paperwork for had rattled him—big time.
First thing that morning, dispatch put out a one car versus tree collision, and Jake signed on to go. He was so close, he arrived even before the ambulance, and what he saw would haunt him for a while.
He parked on the shoulder and turned on his overhead lights to warn oncoming traffic to slow down. Skid marks made it obvious where the vehicle had left the roadway, and halfway down a short embankment was a blue SUV. It appeared to have spun around a few times before hitting the broad side of a tree. Near frozen temps overnight meant the roads were slippery that morning and the driver had most likely hit a patch of black ice.
Jake grabbed his first-aid kit and hurried down the embankment to the passenger side door of the SUV. As he approached the car, he saw that the driver was slumped over the wheel, and from the looks of the damage, Jake had little hope for him. The door was jammed shut, so he used his asp to carefully break the window, making sure the glass fell to the empty passenger seat. A cooing noise came from the back seat. A baby, still strapped into his car seat, sat waving his arms irreverently, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation.
“Hey, buddy. Hang tight. I’ll get to you in a second,” Jake said to the infant.
Jake knew instinctively that the driver was dead, but proceeded through the motions of checking to be sure. When he leaned in through the passenger side window to check for a pulse, his own heart skipped a beat. Mid-thirties, dirty blond hair, strong jawline. Except for the blood dripping down the man’s face, Jake felt like he was looking in a mirror. The man could have been Jake’s twin. Rooted in place, he stood paralyzed, just staring at the man, simultaneously fascinated and repulsed. Eerie.
The baby fussing pulled him from his reverie. After no indication of a pulse, he dropped the man’s arm and popped the glove box. He rifled through its contents before finding the registration, which he shoved into his pocket. Then he opened the back door to extricate the baby. Normally, he would have waited for aid to do an evaluation, but the baby wasn’t crying and was holding his head up, which ruled out a serious neck injury. Aid could check him for internal injuries up on the road better than they could down here anyway.
