Sudden Recall (2 page)

“I'm not about to help when you're endangering both of our lives by pretending to be helpless.” They were almost nose to nose, his voice a hard whisper that sounded scary even to his own ears. But maybe she would listen. Instead, the moonlight glinted off the tears in her eyes. Seriously, now she was going to act like the terrified victim? “Give it up, Sienna.”

“Tell me why you know my name. Tell me yours. Tell me anything but that you're going to leave me here to die.”

“You know my name.”

She shook her head. “I don't know anything. I didn't even know
my
name until Aunt Karen told me.”

“You don't have an aunt Karen. You said you had an uncle Bill, but that was it. Or did you lie about that, too, along with everything else?”

Her lip trembled. “Please just tell me your name.”

Parker couldn't believe he was actually going to placate her. “Jackson Parker. Most everyone calls me Parker.”

Which she already knew. Only his dad had ever called him Jackson, and he remembered his mom calling him Jack. That was why he only ever told people his name was Parker. He wanted as much separation as possible between who he was now and that scared kid who never thought he'd get away from his lazy, drunk father still pining for a woman who hadn't wanted either of them.

She looked down at the badge on his belt. “A...US marshal?”

He nodded. “Fugitive apprehension task force.”

“Am I a criminal?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

“Because I don't know who I am. I have amnesia. I don't remember anything before a year ago,
Parker
. And the year before that I was in a coma.”

Amnesia? Parker stared at her, dumbfounded.

She was looking at him like maybe he could help her sort this out.

The reality was, he probably could. He had to get them out of this first before he unraveled the loose threads in her stories. If she was lying—again—he'd find out sooner or later, and he'd know never to trust her or any other woman. Ever.

If she wasn't lying, Parker wouldn't stop until he got to the bottom of what had happened to her. Something had turned the strong, capable woman he'd known into the scared and shaking one in front of him. And he was going to find out what.

He took her hand again and started walking. The helicopter was overhead still. Parker cut right, then left, then right again, working his way back to the road. Why had he left his cell phone in the cup holder in his truck?

He needed to call this in, get his whole team here to battle these guys. Making arrests, interrogating suspects and seeing justice done was his life now.

As for Sienna, he didn't know what her life entailed. None of this made any sense, except her not being able to remember who she was. Amnesia actually fit everything he'd seen so far, but how could that have happened? A
year
in a coma? Where was the CIA now? Even harmless and unable to go on missions, surely they kept tabs on an asset like her.

Parker had a lot of questions. The first of which was where those two men had gone.

He slowed his pace and listened as Sienna quieted her breaths. Some things were still there. The way she reacted, the way she scanned the vicinity around her. Training had been ingrained in her until it was muscle memory, even as freaked out as she was and with no past.

His Sienna was still in there, and maybe she'd be able to tell him why she had left him standing by himself at the airport in Atlanta. Why she'd promised to be there and then hadn't shown. He'd been fresh off that last mission and anxious to see her—to see where their relationship might go when they were both stateside with some time off.

The timing of her no-show at the airport didn't fit the “coma” she'd been in. If it'd lasted a year, it would have begun weeks, or even a month, after she stood him up. There had to be another reason she had never showed. Once Parker knew what it was, he'd be able to walk away without this twisting thing in his chest that wouldn't let him rest. She'd torn him up inside, but he'd given her the power to do that first. No more. He wasn't going to give his heart to another woman, ever. He was done with that.

Sienna gasped, and the hot barrel end of a rifle touched Parker's neck. He had to think quickly. In one maneuver he twisted and went for the rifle.

The shot slammed into his chest.

TWO

S
ienna looked back at Parker, lying on the ground. Was he dead? She couldn't see any blood, but it was dark. The air had chilled until her breath puffed out around her in white clouds. She was dragged by her arm back through the forest the way they came by a masked gunman.

The helicopter had quit circling with that blinding light and landed, probably on the road. Were they going to chopper her out? They could certainly try. Sienna might be an amnesia patient who'd been in a coma for a year, but she wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Where was all this bravado coming from? She hadn't been completely idle this past year. She had a working knowledge of self-defense, more for the sake of meeting people and getting out of the house to attend classes. But otherwise, her life had been quiet. Pleasant.

Yet now, fear seemed to have distilled inside her like some weird Frankenstein-type science experiment. In its purest element she was left with something rock hard and unwavering. Like the all-American hero's forearms.

Sienna glanced at the man on the other side of her, covering her with his Eastern European ex-military rifle and those Russian surplus thermal goggles hanging loose around his neck. Most of that was available to buy on the internet, which meant these guys could be anyone and not necessarily just hired guns of the nasty variety...and
how
did she know that? She grew vegetables and raised goats for milk. How did she know where those items had come from?

The rifle was lifted for a second, just long enough for her to get the message. Apparently, trying to run was out of the question. So what was the new plan? And was Parker dead?

“We figured sooner or later you'd go to him for help. Little obvious, don't you think? Crying to the big bad SEAL in his cushy new job driving prisoners around. Too bad he can't help you no more. Too, too bad.”

Sienna swallowed. Tears filled her eyes, and that painful ache in her chest was back. It usually only surfaced after a bad dream—like the one she had of that little boy crying. She didn't even know Parker, despite his apparently thinking they were best friends or something. Why would she shed a tear over the death of someone she barely knew?

Still, it slipped down her face, and she didn't wipe it away in case the gunmen were watching. They'd let down their guard if they thought she was as helpless as she looked.

She kept up her act when the gunman's grip on her arm tightened just enough that she could reasonably let off a whimper. They'd soon think she was surrendering, but her first order of business was getting out of his hold. Then she'd either have to steal their van or run down the street until she found someone willing to give her a ride into town.

They stepped out of the trees and the helicopter's rotors whipped her hair around her face, obstructing her view of the three vehicles and the man holding his arm. Parker had been right; he'd winged one of the gunmen.

“I can't believe you let him hit you.” The rifleman to her right lifted his weapon, his voice disappointed but in a hard way. There was no sympathy for his friend.

“It was a mistake. I won't let it happen again.” The injured man spoke in broken English.

“You're right, you won't.” The rifle popped off one shot, and the injured man fell to the ground.

Sienna looked away from the carnage while the rifleman chuckled.

“Let's go.” The man holding her stepped over the dead guy, which forced her to do the same. “You have an appointment with the boss.”

“I think you have the wrong person. This must be some mistake. I run a tiny ranch and I take care of my sick aunt. What could you possibly want with me?”

“Not us, just the boss.” He chuckled. “Nice try, though. This whole ‘I don't remember' act is cute and all. I nearly busted a gut when I heard about that. But it's not going to fly. The boss has ways of making people remember things.”

Dread crested over her like an ice cold wave. She wasn't going to suddenly get her memories back, not even with whatever horrifying method their “boss” came up with. The doctors couldn't do anything about her amnesia, which was why she'd checked out of the hospital.

A year later and she still didn't recall one iota of her past. Aunt Karen asked her about it every few weeks, but other than that she just let Sienna go about her business.

The whole thing was bizarre. And not just the situation she was in now.

Aunt Karen was like an acquaintance living in her house. Sienna had figured she'd develop familial affection for the older woman at some point, but it hadn't happened yet. What kind of niece didn't even love her own aunt? And what had Parker said, about her not even having an aunt, just an uncle? How strange was that?

It was like everyone knew more about her life than she did. Sienna wanted to grab her hair at the roots. All the tiptoeing around, all the side glances and making sure she hadn't snapped. It was infuriating. She wanted to just get in her truck—if it actually worked—and drive off into the sunset. But every time she got ready to leave, it was like her aunt got needier.

Now she was about to get a ride out of town when she really didn't want to go.

The gunman shook her arm. “Move. Now.”

* * *

Parker was pretty sure his rib was broken. He lay on the ground listening to the men walking Sienna to the van, then rolled over and did a push-up, getting his legs under him.
Oh, that hurt.
He jogged after them in time to see her struggle against the man holding her, desperate not to be put on the waiting chopper.
Good girl.

She was giving the fight a valiant effort, further proof that what she'd said was true. In fight-or-flight mode no one was good enough to keep up the pretense. She'd have done even better in this situation had she retained all of her previous skills, which meant they likely truly had been forgotten.

At least these men didn't seem to want her dead, or she'd have been killed already. No, they only wanted him dead—which was pretty much the story of his life.

Since the single gunman had his back to him, Parker cracked the door on his truck and grabbed his phone, hoping they wouldn't see the dome light. He sent a text to the duty phone at the marshal's office that was manned 24/7, a code that meant, “Get everyone here. I'm in serious trouble,” along with his location. The team wouldn't thank him given they'd also had a rough day, and were probably all home in bed by now. But they would understand.

Parker clicked the door as quietly as he could while Sienna kicked and struggled against her captor.

The helicopter pilot yelled through the open door. “Let's go!”

Parker took cover behind the truck, his gun aimed at the man. “US Marshals—let her go!”

The gunman pointed his weapon and fired. Parker ducked for a second, then lifted up to shoot again—aiming for the far side of the man so there was less chance a miss would hit Sienna.

She kicked out at the gunman so that the man's shots went wide and missed Parker. Sienna grabbed the man's head and ripped the wool balaclava from his face.

Brown hair fell down across his forehead and surprise flashed on his face, distracting him enough that Sienna was able to slam his head back against the side of the helicopter. He dropped to the concrete, unconscious.
Maybe she hasn't forgotten everything.

A boot crunched gravel at his back and Parker spun. He sideswiped the rifle with his forearm and punched the man. The fight was nasty, but Parker got him on the ground, arms behind his back. “Who sent you here?”

The man didn't answer.

Sienna sprinted over and took cover behind Parker.

Parker asked again, “Who sent you?”

The man on the ground chuckled. The words he spoke were Italian, but Parker understood them nonetheless. He was going to kill himself. Before Parker could flip the man to his back and prevent the suicide, he'd already bitten down on what was likely a cyanide capsule in a fake tooth.

Parker pulled Sienna away so she didn't have to see or hear the man's unpleasant death. The helicopter rotors spun faster and it lifted off the ground, those inside apparently fully prepared to cut their losses and bail on this whole endeavor.

Parker held his arm around their faces while wind flicked his shirttails up and down. A convoy of cars pulled up and parked in the spot where the helicopter had been, surrounding the remaining living man. His team piled out, guns drawn, looking as perturbed as he felt.

Parker turned Sienna so she could focus on him. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He wanted to say, “Always,” but that would imply there was some kind of link between them, some emotional connection deeper than two strangers standing by a truck on a highway. He wasn't going there again; he had to keep a distance.

“You want to tell us what on earth is going on, Parker?” His boss, Jonah Rivers, was newly married and probably mad he'd been pulled away from precious time with his bride. Behind Jonah was US Marshal Wyatt Ames, a former police detective, and behind him the team's married couple—Hailey and Eric Hanning. Jonah's gaze was riveted on the front of Parker's vest.

Parker glanced down and saw the bullet lodged there. Jonah's eyebrow rose.

“Everyone, this is Sienna.”

Ames grinned, but then he always was cocky. “Explains a few things.”

Parker ignored him and pointed out everyone so she knew their names. “I was with Sienna when she was almost abducted by this guy.” He pointed at the man who'd killed himself with the capsule in his tooth. “And this guy.” He pointed at the man who'd been shot, though Parker was only responsible for the graze on his arm. “The one over there is only unconscious.”

Eric and Hailey broke off to handcuff the last man alive.

Parker blew out a breath while Jonah strode over and held out his hand. “It's good to see you, Sienna.”

Parker whipped his head around. “You know her?”

Sienna said, “I watched some of the zoo animals at my ranch after the flood, up until Jonah's wife, Elise, reopened it a month ago.”

“That was you?”

“Yes.” There was a question in her eyes. “My aunt didn't like it, either, but I told her it wasn't like the animals were going to come in the house, so why should she be bothered by them?”

“That's how I met Sienna.”

Parker didn't like the smug look on Jonah's face. He wanted to tell his boss everything he knew about Sienna's past—her real past and not whatever story she'd concocted instead of telling people the truth about her bizarre medical case. Then he'd watch Jonah's facial expression change.

Instead, Parker said, “How nice.”

Jonah chuckled, apparently not fazed by Parker's belligerence. He never was, and Parker hadn't been hired on to a fugitive apprehension task force because of his people skills.

“I'm assuming the helicopter reported in this area was on account of you?”

* * *

While Parker told Jonah all about what had happened, Sienna left him and strode to her truck. Her purse was still on the front seat, her phone inside. Nothing had been taken, which made sense since the gunmen hadn't been there for that. They'd been there for her, and when they'd failed, the one in charge had...killed himself. Who did that? Her mind spun so fast she was dizzy from it.

Sienna had twenty-three texts and three voice mails from her aunt. She sent a text back that said,
I'm fine
.

Two seconds after it sent, her phone rang. She turned to sit sideways on the front passenger seat and answered.

“Yes.”

“Where are you? I've been calling you for an hour!”

Sienna gritted her teeth. “I got a flat tire, then three men with guns and a helicopter chased me through the forest and I barely got free before they could put me in the chopper and take me to who knows where.”

Silence. “Did you kill them?”

Sienna choked. She'd said the whole thing in her most sarcastic voice, like what happened was just another day at the office, and Aunt Karen only wanted to know if Sienna had killed them? “Two of them are dead, but it wasn't me who did it.”

Why was her aunt worried about that, and not whether or not Sienna was okay? Because while she was fine physically, mentally was a whole other question. “Listen, Aunt Karen, I'll be home soon to heat up dinner...”

“I already ate. Is someone there with you?”

“A marshal stopped to help me with the flat.”

“Jackson Parker?”

Sienna frowned. “How did you know that?”

“Have him drive you home. Tell him to come inside so I can meet the man who saved my darling niece's life.”

It just didn't ring true. Nothing about her life did except the feel of Parker's hand wrapped around hers. Remembering it was keeping her sane when she wanted to drop to the ground and cry. Not just from fear. When she looked at Parker it was like all those feelings of loss surrounding what she couldn't remember intensified.

Maybe he was right and they had been friends. She wasn't big on trusting people on face value, but Parker made her want to believe it. It felt right.
He
felt right.

But there was nothing she could do about it when she didn't recall a thing. She couldn't make any kind of move when she didn't know their history. What if there was something huge she was missing because she'd lost her past? If she jumped in now, she'd look naive. That was why she had to back off and not rely on Parker too much, even if it was the easy route.

Sienna hung up and rubbed her gritty eyes. When she looked up, one of the marshals was in front of her. He shot her a cocky grin and stuck his hand out. “Wyatt Ames.”

She shook it. “Sienna Cartwright.” As always, it sounded foreign. Like she was living someone else's life.

“So you're the one who has him all tied up in knots.”