Authors: Cindy Paterson
“Whoa, you okay, sugar?” Jedrik asked
, coming towards her.
Sugar.
That word. He had called her that. She felt the bile rise in her throat.
She backed away, arms outstretched to ward off Jedrik. She banged into the front door and felt behind her for the deadbolt. She recoiled as it clicked again.
Keir and Anstice were staring at her, their expressions distressing, as if they . . . as if they knew what memory had plagued her thoughts. But that was impossible. No one knew what had happened.
Anstice took a step towards her, but Keir pulled her back to his side.
“I can’t . . . I have to . . . get out of here. I can’t . . . breathe.” Danielle threw open the front door.
The fresh air cut into her like a bucket of ice water. She took three deep breaths before darting out into the frigid air.
She heard footsteps coming up behind her and raced down the steps to her car. She tugged on the door handle. It didn’t budge. It wouldn’t open.
Christ, get me out of here.
She used both hands hauling on the slim length of metal.
“Shit
.” She slammed her fist down on the roof.
The sound pulsated over and over, the click as it snapped around each wrist, each ankle. She had been cold. Freezing. Her back aching, spine digging into . . . God, why couldn’t she remember?
“I’m sober. I’ll drive you,” Jedrik said, coming up behind her. “Always wanted to give a Mini Cooper a whirl. Dying to do the
Italian Job
thing. Ever drive down stairs?” He held her keys and jacket in his hands. He placed her coat around her shoulders and then walked around to the opposite side of the car and opened the passenger side door.
“I . . . I . . . yeah
, that’d be good.” She gripped the edges of her coat closer to her body as she went and slid into the bucket seat.
They remained silent for the first five minutes, just the purr of the engine as Jedrik shifted gears. The panic eased and the puzzling memories drifted back into the black void of her mind.
“So, ever do anything fun with this car?” Jedrik asked.
“I drove over a grass park once to get out of a traffic jam,” Danielle said
, needing to hear the blithe tone that Jedrik exuded.
Jedrik’s brows rose. “Impressive.”
Silence. She knew Jedrik was trying to give her a little space to catch her breath. She appreciated the gesture, realizing that the guy wasn’t always a dick. She was actually beginning to like him. His outward I-am-God’s-gift-to-women display was a game to him, a way to get attention, and it worked.
“Thank
you. For driving me. I’ll give you money for a cab, or just take my car. I’ll pick it up tomorrow,” Danielle suggested.
“Think I’ll steal your car. It rocks,” Jedrik
flashed a dazzling grin.
Danielle smiled. “You’re an okay guy despite the annoying habit of sharing food across the table.”
“Too forward?” Jedrik scrunched up his nose.
“Disgusting when you’re talking mashed potatoes. Stick to desserts.”
Jedrik laughed. “Advice taken.” He turned down Bathurst Street and shifted into third gear. “Wanna talk about it?”
Did she? Maybe she needed to talk to someone about all the shit she heard that caused flashes of memories. Someone like Jedrik
, who was blasé. Anstice avoided the subject as if it were a disease, and the therapist at the hospital had been too intense.
“Manacles. I remember them around my wrists and ankles,” Danielle blurted out. She subconsciously rubbed her wrists, which she often did when she was uncomfortable. “Certain sounds give me flashes. Like clips of a movie, except . . . I feel the emotions as if I were back there again.” She glanced down at
the jagged raised lines on her wrists. “The doctors told me I was bitten numerous times on my neck, but they don’t know by what. Sometimes I thank God I can’t remember what happened.” She paused, trying to sort out her thoughts. “But it’s worse. How can I get over something when I don’t know what that something is? Doctors, nurses, the police . . . they all told me what they think happened, but the guy has never been caught and I can’t remember. It’s frustrating. Like this blanket is smothering me all the time. I think I have to remember, so I can finally get over it.”
He shifted into fourth gear, his expression sincere. “You’re a realist. Ambiguity drives you nuts. I get it. You need resolution.” He pulled up in front of her art gallery on Queen Street West and put on the parking break. He looked at her without pity or sympathy, instead with unassuming sapphire eyes. “You’re a tough cookie, Danielle. I won’t try to give advice that
’s a bunch of baloney. But I’m a first-rate listener and damn good at being there when you need someone.” He flashed a charismatic grin. “And I’m a handsome guy to hang with.”
She rolled her eyes. “Inhibition is out of your realm of expertise, isn’t it?” He shrugged. “Try to keep my car on all fours. I already have three speeding tickets with this Mini.”
She went to get out of the car when Jedrik touched her hand. “Hey, you need company tonight? I like the couch.”
“No. But thanks. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I’ll be out like a light.”
“So Tuesday? Pool, beer and wings?” Jedrik called before she slammed the door.
Why not? Jedrik had proven to be a selfless and entertaining guy to be around. “Yeah, sure.”
Jedrik waited until she was in the front door before he drove away. She closed and locked the door then leaned up against it. Her purse slipped off her shoulder and fell to the floor.
She sighed. Solitude. No sounds. No smells.
Her head pounded. Headaches were a common occurrence after a flashback. She pressed her fingers to her temple as a wave of pain hit her head as though someone had taken a hammer and struck her with it. Nice. Another night of debilitating throbbing.
Advil had become her best friend.
Then she heard it. The voice. His voice. Air sucked from her lungs.
“Little one.”
Her stomach dropped into a bottomless pit, and tears gathered as the voice sang those two words to her. She knew them—he’d called her that in her dreams.
Her knees gave way and she slid down the length of the door until her butt hit the cold floor. She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. No, he was a figment of her imagination. He was in her head. It wasn’t real.
Shivers racked her body, yet suddenly warmth penetrated her skin, flaming hot like the sun beaming down on her in the middle of summer.
“Do not be frightened, little one.”
“Holy crap,” Danielle cried out, head raising, eyes scanning her darkened gallery. That was so real. Someone was here. He was here. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve and crept to her feet. This was bullshit; someone was screwing with her head.
She slid her arm along the wall and felt for the light switch
, while she kept her gaze fixed forward, searching for any movement or sound.
She felt his presence, heard him breathe in and out, calm and gentle. She tasted his scent on the tip of her tongue—earth. Familiar warmth invaded her body, but nothing prepared her for the shadow moving across the room. Her fingers searched desperately for the light switch, but it was—
She froze. Paralysis was possible when frightened out of your skull, she concluded. Her legs refused to listen to her mind, which said “run”; instead they were like icicles frozen in place.
He emerged, soft footfalls unhurried and precise across the hardwood floor, eyes hidden by the shadows, but she didn’t need to see his eyes to know what they looked like. She knew every inch of them, the slight droop in the corners, lashes curving upwards at the tips to give the impression of gentleness. The green surrounding the black pupil was bold and bright, a mixture of lime and the greenest leaves in the middle of the rainforest. If she closed her eyes she could see inside them, the haunting rage and sorrow churning together to emit a tumultuous expression. He existed inside her, a part of the blood that rushed like a river through every vein, every vessel.
He stepped into the moonlight that shimmered through the front window. She gasped as those vivid green eyes penetrated her with an intense heat. Her heart skipped a beat and for some reason she felt relief dance across her mind, a comfort that she hadn’t experienced in a long time. Two years, to be exact.
Her arm dropped, lights forgotten as she stared in thrall at the tall lean man from her portraits. He halted a few steps before her, bold, strong and proud, his shoulders like a barricade stopping her from any thought of escape. But she wouldn’t escape. No, she’d been desperate for answers about this man for two long
, tortured years.
“Who are you?” Danielle asked, surprised that her voice even worked. She licked her lips to moisten the dryness and his eyes
followed her. She jerked it back in her mouth. “Who are you?” she repeated, raising her voice.
Her insides coiled like a jack-in-the-box ready to spring free with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, uncertain whether he was going to leap on her and shred her to bits
, or take her in his arms and soothe away all the hurt with a single touch. She prayed it was the latter, but she doubted this guy had any sweetness in his mind right now. Haunted eyes, sad and filled with anguish. It swam through her insides like a wave drifting in and out of her veins, filling the emptiness inside her body with his pain.
Her hands ached to reach forward and feel every crevice on his face then sift through his hair and touch the dark walnut strands. She inhaled and his earthly scent caused tremors to sprint across her skin.
Hair? Dry hair? No, it should be wet. She always painted him with wet hair, and yet tonight it was dry, dancing across his head in soft waves.
“No, this is wrong.” Danielle shook her head, trying to clear her vision. She was going
crazy; he wasn’t standing in front of her. She was imagining him. Holy crap, they’d put her in an insane asylum if she ever told anyone she’d seen the man in her paintings.
“Danielle.” His husky
voice gave her body a jolt as if a shot of electricity.
With e
very breath she inhaled his scent. “Tell me why I know you?”
His expression
sobered further, eyelids drooping down and his lashes lowering. His brows drew over them and he appeared to be scowling, yet she felt sorrow emanating from him.
Then to her utter astonishment
, as his head lowered and he turned away, she caught the sight of one glistening tear fall down his cheek. Her heart broke into tiny fragments, an overwhelming pain descending upon her, and she had no choice but to touch him.
He stepped back and she reached out
for him, curling her fingers into his coat. The contact was so soft she was afraid he wouldn’t even notice. Heat shot through her, warmth surging, her cheeks flushed and lips parted as she held her breath.
“Don’t, little one,” he said, but he remained still.
Only one word came to mind. “Please,” she whispered.
Several seconds of hesitation and she was afraid he’d walk away, leave her again like he’d done before. Even if she had no recollection of the memory
, she knew he had left her. He had walked away, but whether it was her choice or his she had no idea.
He swung around in one fluid motion, his arm encompassing her waist into a forceful embrace. Her heart drummed,
as he stared at her, one hand splayed across her lower back, the other reaching up to cup her chin and tilt her head up to meet his eyes.
“You told me to stay away. I’ve defied your request, for that I apologize.” His words flowed like melted chocolate across her mind. “Leave me in your past, little one. I am damned. We are destined to be apart for all eternity.”
Danielle’s mind screamed no, every fiber in her body screamed it, yet she was speechless. She didn’t know who he was or why he was here. Yeah, all those W questions again. God, maybe he’d had something to do with her abduction? Was it possible? Maybe it was Stockholm syndrome.
His voice changed to a rough growl. “No. Never. To hurt you would end my life.”
His thumb stroked across the cleft in her chin as if it was natural and he was unaware that he was doing it at all. Her abdomen tightened and her knees weakened as she reached up to find the tear that had once graced his skin.
Wetness clung to his cheekbone. She had the urge to kiss it, sweep her tongue across the flesh and taste
his skin in what she knew would be the most erotic thing she’d ever done. Why? Why was this man driving her insane with these emotions? What had happened between them two years ago?
His head lowered, eyes delving into her with a fierce abandon, intense, dangerous and dark. His lips parted and she moved up on her tiptoes, needing to be closer, wanting to feel him, taste what was within inches.
She closed her eyes, knowing he was going to kiss her. And she wanted him to. God, she wanted him to. The knowledge leapt through her like a tidal wave crashing against rocks. She desired a man again. This man.
His arm tightened on her back, locking her against his broad chest. She heard his heart skip a beat and then take on the same rhythm as her own. When her head tilted back
, his lips came down on hers with a potent intensity.