5. Chapter 5
Chapter five
W ild nightmares plagued Elio throughout the night, and he woke multiple times, sweating and gasping for breath. He dreamed of car crashes, gunfights, explosions, and being buried alive. Each time he woke, Rissa was at his side and her voice was in his ear, telling him he was all right and it was just a dream.
When he finally woke the last time from a stretch of peaceful sleep, the room was beginning to glow with daylight, and Rissa was nowhere to be seen.
He sat up quickly, too quickly, and his head exploded with pain. He groaned, grabbing for his forehead as if to catch the pain before it fully settled into place. At the sound, Rissa appeared in the bathroom doorway.
“Here,” she said, crossing to the bed. She handed him a bottle of water, a handful of breakfast bars, and two pills. “Eat the food first, then take the medicine. It’s not a prescription painkiller, but it will hopefully take the edge off.”
“Thanks,” Elio said. Something niggled in the back of his mind like de ja vu. It was as if he could see another version of Rissa doing almost this exact thing—giving him food and water, treating his pain.
She was wearing the clothes she grabbed from the 24-hour store—short shorts and a tie-dye top, lots of pink, purple, and yellow with the words “Shine Bright” on the front. Her long legs curled gracefully under her as she sat on the bed next to Elio and studied him seriously.
“Good morning, by the way,” she said. “How do you feel?”
“Aside from the headache and the residue of a million nightmares, not bad,” Elio said dryly. Rissa quirked her mouth sympathetically.
“How about the memory loss?” she asked hesitantly.
Elio took a moment to search his brain. Did he suddenly remember where he had grown up or if he had any brothers and sisters? Could he picture the place where he had first met the woman sitting on the bed beside him—the woman with whom he’d had rough, amazing sex the night before?
No, on all fronts. The first thing he could remember, other than the odd flashbacks of the doctor’s coat, handcuffs, and explosion (and he wasn’t sure that latter one was even a real memory), was opening his eyes in the dark woods and seeing Rissa crouched in front of him with no idea who she was.
“About the same,” he answered, watching her face fall slightly. If there was anything that made him trust her, knowing nothing of their past or how they came to be on the run together, it was the fact that Rissa obviously wanted him to regain his memories. And her care for him seemed genuine.
“I grabbed a shirt and some underwear for you last night,” Rissa said. “Hopefully they’re the right size.” Her face was serious as she studied him for a moment more, almost as if she was memorizing his features. Elio realized that there was something different in her demeanor this morning—a kind of heaviness as if she had come to some decision during the night that still wasn’t sitting well with her.
He felt a momentary jolt of dread. Despite not being able to remember, it was clear from the way his body and emotions reacted that he was not used to not being in control of his own destiny. To have no idea what kind of situation he was in or what his options were to get out of it left him teetering on the brink of panic whenever he let himself dwell on it.
“You should go ahead and get up and get ready,” Rissa said finally. “Our ride gets here in fifteen minutes.” She started to stand, but Elio reached for her, grabbing her hand and pulling her back. Her lips tightened with concern as she looked down at him, her blue eyes shadowed.
“What is it?” she asked gently. Elio thought again of the dreams and flashbacks, the almost unmanageable urge to flee that had struck him when he heard the sirens, the ease with which his fingers had moved to hotwire the stolen truck.
“I’m a criminal, aren’t I?” he asked, his voice coming out tight and gruff with the difficulty of saying the words aloud.
Rissa’s eyebrows puckered slightly as she glanced down at their joined hands. She didn’t answer immediately. When she finally responded, her voice was soft.
“Maybe.”
“But you’re a doctor,” Elio clarified after another short pause. It just didn’t add up. And her solemnity and silence this morning was unnerving him.
Rissa glanced up again, meeting his eyes. “Yes.”
Elio leaned back on the pillows, ignoring her glance at the clock.
“You’re out of my league,” he said abruptly. Rissa’s head jerked back around to him, her face protesting.
“No, don’t try to talk me out of it,” Elio said. “I’m just stating facts. I don’t know many of them, but that one’s pretty clear.”
He frowned, looking down at her strong, slender hand in his and stroking his thumb across the back of it. Rissa sighed.
“Why do I feel like we’re coming to the end of a road?” he asked quietly after a moment. “Or to some kind of crossroad?” He looked back up to see that Rissa’s frown deepened and the corners of her perfect mouth were downturned. She took a deep breath.
“Every road has to end somewhere,” she said quietly. “A person can’t keep running forever.”
Elio’s heart beat a bit more quickly at her confirmation and his stomach dropped, the breakfast bars he had just eaten like a rock in his middle.
“I don’t want this road to end,” he said. “I’m kind of lost when it comes to where it started and where it’s going, but there are parts of it I don’t want to lose. Traveling companions,” he added, feeling like he had perhaps taken the analogy a bit too far.
But Rissa smiled. It was a sad smile, a subdued one, but it was a smile. She leaned forward, laying her lips on his. The kiss was softer than the passionate ones they had shared the night before, but there was a sweetness to it, a familiarity that yanked at something deep in Elio’s psyche. He knew this kiss.
Lifting a hand to her cheek, he kissed her back. Rissa’s hands came up as he deepened the kiss, one of them burying itself in the depths of his hair, sending pleasant prickles along his scalp, while the other curled around the back of his neck, warm and soft against his skin.
The moment was interrupted by the sudden yelp of a police siren in the parking lot outside. They both pulled back, their eyes locking.
“It’s time to go,” Rissa said. Her voice was quiet but steady. Elio’s dread flooded back, filling his body and making it almost impossible to throw back the covers and stand from the bed. But moving in a daze, he did so. He pulled on his pants and the shirt that Rissa had grabbed for him; it was pale green and exactly the right size.
As he dressed, Rissa went to the front window and drew the curtains to the side, just enough to peek through. When she turned back around, Elio was standing by the bed, waiting, his heart in his throat. She crossed the room toward him, reaching out her hand, and he took it.
You trust her, he reminded himself. There’s not really much else you can do at this point.