Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
SIERRA
A sound wakes me.
Blinking, I try to make sense of what I’m seeing… fuzzy red, green, and white lights on a Christmas tree fill my vision.
I raise my head and look around. I’m on a couch.
I fell asleep on the couch….
But where?
The room’s chilly. With a shiver, I slowly sit up. A raw, throbbing headache fills my skull. My hand is shaking as I brush it over my face…
Where am—
The pace of my heart skyrockets as I look around the unfamiliar room.
I leap off the couch and trip over a paperback book. Somehow I catch myself on the arm of the sofa.
My vision wavers. God, this headache…
Nothing makes sense. Why don’t I know where I am?
The window’s are covered by heavy curtains. When I pull one back, I’m looking at a porch. Beyond that the only thing I can see is flying snow.
Winter. But where?
There’s a lot of snow. It must be the North or the West. We don’t get snow like this in eastern Virginia.
I go to another window. Same thing. More snow. A small workshop sits at the edge of an opening. The roof is laden with piles of snow. A small light illuminates a swath in front of it.
Weird. Everything is so strange. Like I’ve woken up in a far, far away place.
Cliche, I know, but I pinch my face.
Okay. That hurt. I’m definitely awake.
I spin around in the foyer. “Hello!”
My voice echoes. It bounces around the cavernous cabin, pinging off the beams. The only answer to my call is silence.
My legs are unsteady as I search the house, room by room.
No one here, and I don’t recognize anything.
But someone’s been sleeping in the guest room. And there are men’s clothes in the master bedroom closet.
The soap in the man’s bathroom is familiar. Cedar. Warm tones. I hold it to my nose as I walk around the bedroom.
So weird. This is a nice house. But whose house is this?
The reflection in the bathroom mirror catches my attention. I look different. Maybe thinner. Something has changed. I touch my face.
Are those the remnants of a bruise?
There’s a slight yellow tinge to my cheek. I lean in close, look at my eyes.
I lean my head, twist this way and that. My hair is longer.
Oh my god. Is that a hickey on my neck?
No. It can’t be. My pulse speeds even more. Why would I have a love bite?
Glancing down, I see a fresh scar on my arm. I’ve had stitches—
Holy shit, something is definitely wrong.
I race back to the guest room where I spend several minutes digging through the clothing, smelling the soap, opening drawers.
Please. Let something trigger a memory.
I race back down the stairs and skid to a halt in the kitchen.
There’s a note on the fridge, hanging under a magnet. I pull it down.
My vision tunnels. Two words glare at me. Yours, Cole.
Something in my head short circuits. Images consume me.
I’m driven to my knees on the polished wooden floor as my brain spins out of control.
“Oh! No… what—”
Everything comes flooding back.
The wave of memories is so strong, I have to fight not to throw up.
The scene plays out as clear as if I was watching a movie. A horror film that I’m starring in.
Evelyn and I were in a boat looking for Bryan.
It was night. But before we made it to the spit of land where she’d heard he was camping, another boat came tearing at us. Then the man on the bow of the boat pointed a gun at us.
They’re tied to Bryan. It is the only explanation for someone chasing us.
A shiver races through me. The terror of us being chased, our small boat flying over the water is visceral. I can feel it all over again.
Their boat is bigger. Faster. An awful sound happens—the breaking of fiberglass. We crashed on hidden rocks.
Oh god.
I double over and clench my stomach. My whole body is shaking as I lean against the kitchen cabinets. It’s painful to breathe.
It happens so fast. My body flies through the air. The railing catches my stomach. I somersault into the darkness.
The taste in my mouth is back. Brackish. Dirty water. Now I know where it came from.
Another awful memory assaults me. I whimper through the terrible images and sensations.
The water is cold. Roots and grass are tangled around my legs in the blackness. I didn’t know which way is up. So much pain. God, there is so much pain. All over my body. My head.
Holding my temples, I rock as I sit on the kitchen floor. The panic of that night is coursing through me all over again. My heart races. My hands go clammy. My eyes close.
Bryan. I never found him. We failed.
I almost died. A shudder grips me as I remember how it felt when my vision faded that night. Drawing down to a tiny point, then it disappeared completely.
God. How horrible.
I cry and cry. Sobbing until I’m nauseated and aching all over. I have to find Bryan. He could still be alive.
It takes minutes, but I climb to my feet. My body wants to buckle, but I hold on to the counter.
I’m exhausted. It takes forever to make it back to the edge of the sofa. I cradle my head. My stomach rolls. The memories keep playing out like a movie.
The next thing I recall is someone’s hands on me, rough, grabbing, dragging me up and over the edge of the boat. The rescue. A hand smacks my face, the unknown voice calling to me. Then the sting of vomiting briny water.
An ambulance took me to a hospital. Paramedics were talking over me. Then doctors, so many doctors. So many questions from the police and the medical staff.
Jane Doe.
I was Jane Doe and I almost died in the bay.
A fresh sob tears from me as I bite my knuckle. It’s too much. I can’t take this.
Bryan. And Cole. Anger flashes in my head. Cole Strong came for me after my accident. I remember, with crystal clarity, the day he picked me up to take me home because someone had to help me.
Why did he think he had the right to sign for my release?
Sick anger washes over me. My lungs burn as my head pounds. My whole body is shaking with anger as I rise. It’s impossible to walk straight, so I swerve and sway on unsteady legs back to the kitchen.
Cole Strong.
I tear his flannel shirt off and throw it on the floor, sickened by the smell of him.
I can barely hold the temporary cell phone that Cole got me as I dial my brother’s number.
Thank god I can remember it.
The line doesn’t even ring. The recording picks up immediately.
My voice is quivering as I speak to his voicemail. “Bryan, call me. Call me! Something terrible happened.” I’m shaking all over as I cling to the edge of the counter and close my eyes.
Emotion chokes me. “I was with Evelyn and we were coming to look for you. She’d heard you were in a tent encampment on a small island.
We took the boat there to talk with you, but someone chased us, and the boat sank.
I got injured. I don’t know what happened to Evelyn.
Please stay safe. I’m worried sick. Just call me as soon as you can. ”
His girlfriend’s phone does the same. Not a single ring before voicemail picks up. “Evelyn, call me the second you can. I’m worried sick about you and Bryan. I was in the hospital, I’ve had amnesia since the boating accident. Please call me.”
I need to go.
But how can I get to Virginia?
Relief floods my body when I see my passport on the kitchen table. Thank god Cole took me to my apartment and we found it there. Inside the ID is my spare credit card, and fifty bucks in cash.
Now. The other problem. Should I call Cole?
I clench the phone as anger makes my vision waver. I can’t do this. How can I love him and hate him with every bit of my being?
Cole is the reason everything happened.
My rage fuels me. Gone is the nausea. I’m on fire inside. As I tear through the house, I argue with myself.
Dammit.
If Cole knows I’m leaving on my own free will, because I’m angry, he won’t come looking for me.
If he thinks I’m ill and I walk out, he’s going to hunt me down. That’s the last thing I want.
I have to call him.
Gritting my teeth, I dial the number he saved in the phone under his name. Nothing happens.
Come on.
I impatiently jab Send again. This time the voicemail picks up. His rumbly voice says, “Cole Strong here, leave a message.”
My eyes narrow. Just hearing his voice makes my skin tighten. “Cole. I’m leaving. I remembered everything.” My voice breaks with angry, hurt tears. “Look, I know you tried to help me, but I’m going to look for Bryan. Don’t bother looking for me. I don’t want to see you. I remember how we ended.”
The phone beeps, I pull it away from my face and look at the screen. The signal dropped.
Argh!
At least I got a message out to him, but I’m going to need a cell signal if I’m going to get out of here.
Damned mountains. Stupid cell service. After five minutes, I still don’t have a signal.
I spend the next ten minutes looking for a spare set of keys. To what, I don’t know. Maybe there’s a vehicle tucked in that workshop.
There are no keys.
I tromp through the snow anyway. The door to the building is unlocked. At least something goes my way. All I find are tools. Nothing I can ride or drive.
Guess I’m walking.
It’s biting cold outside and almost nine at night by the time I walk to the main road.
This is a stupid idea. But I’m not waiting on Cole. Who knows when he’s going to be back. Besides, he’d insist I stay. Or try to help me look for Bryan.
I’ll never allow that to happen again. Ever.
So hitchhiking it is. The paring knife in my coat pocket isn’t much, but it would be enough to defend myself if worse came to worse.
But I’m far more likely to get frostbite. Or fall. The snow is hard and slick. My boots are all wrong for the weather.
Frankly, the conditions are horrible.
I spin and extend a thumb when a beam of light hits me from behind. Yes. A ride…
The first car that passes me slows down, but doesn’t stop. “Thank you!” I shout into the biting wind as the car’s lights red taillights disappear.
There’s not much traffic. It’s going to be a long, frigid night.
If my bone marrow wasn’t on fire with fury, I’d probably freeze to death.
I trudge toward town, hoping someone will get me to the convenience store that we passed on the way home from Cole’s parents.
Tucking deeper inside the hood of Cole’s blue parka, I duck my head against the snow.
Too bad the coat smells like him.
I wish I had another to wear, something that didn’t remind me of the man that destroyed my heart and may have killed my brother.