Chapter Nineteen
Grace
I reach for AJ’s hand, desperate to soothe a fraction of his pain.
It starts slowly—the light flickering in the corner of my eye, the window curtain swaying when there’s no breeze. Then the entire room—the floor, the bed…me—lurches like I’m adrift on open water in the middle of a storm.
I’m helpless to stop it. To stop myself from falling.
Strong arms wrap around me.
AJ.
He moved so fast—like he knew. Now I’m cradled against his chest, my cheek pressed to the soft cotton of his Henley and the frantic beat of his heart.
“Grace!” His voice is rough. Desperate. “I’ve got you, darlin’. Are you okay? Lourdes! Fuck. Where is that damn nurse when I need her?”
He’s trembling. Holding me like I’m so fragile, I’ll shatter into pieces if he lets go.
It was just vertigo. My battered brain hasn’t yet figured out how to make sense of the world around me—or so Dr. Reyes says. I know I’m okay. Or…as okay as one can be with a fractured skull and no memories of her life.
AJ doesn’t. And he looks utterly wrecked.
I think…if I don’t say something—if I can’t say something—it might break him completely. But when I try, my throat locks and panic squeezes my chest.
Say it. Just…say it.
The first tear rolls down my cheek. AJ’s fingers thread through my hair, cupping the back of my head so gently, I believe with everything I am that he’ll never hurt me. It would destroy him.
“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t leave me again.”
“Just…dizzy.” The words catch in my throat, raw and shaky. “That’s all.”
“You’re sure?” Three years of pain deepen the blue of his eyes. “You’re okay?”
“Y-yes.” My heart pounds so hard he must be able to feel it, but the panic fades with each second he holds me. I ached to know what it would be like to have his arms around me. Now I do.
It’s like coming home.
It doesn’t matter that I can’t remember what—or where—home is. This is what it feels like. It’s the only thing I’m sure of.
His arms tighten around me. “You’re okay,” he says again, like he’s trying to convince himself and not me. “I’ve got you, Grace. I’ve got you.”
Closing my eyes, I let myself melt against him. For the first time since I woke up in this unfamiliar, broken world, I feel safe. Even if I don’t know who I was before, maybe I can find out who I am now.
We don’t move for several minutes. He sits on the floor, my legs draped over his thighs and my right hand pressed to his heart. The steady thump under my fingers and the slow rise and fall of his chest lull me closer and closer toward sleep.
Until I start to shiver.
“Shit. Let’s get you back into bed.”
AJ starts to guide my arms around his neck, but bed is the last place I want to be. “N-no,” I stammer. “Not yet.”
Emotion churns in his eyes, turning them the color of storm clouds over the prairie. A line deepens between his brows. “You’re freezing. And you just fell. Please, Grace. Lie down and rest.”
“Three d-days. In that bed. I can’t…” If I were stronger, I’d tell him the tiny bed has become my prison. The place that reminds me how broken I am. It’s where I woke up. Where I realized my memory—my life—was gone. Here, in his arms, it’s safe in a way I need more than anything.
A frown curves his lips. But then he nods. “Okay. Not the bed. What about the recliner? Or…we could go back to the atrium.”
We. I clutch that single word so tightly, it takes me several seconds to realize he’s waiting for an answer. I wish we could stay right here, but he can’t be comfortable sitting on the cold tile floor.
“Just want…you to hold me.”
My words unleash something wild in his eyes. Something that looks a lot like love. I don’t remember loving him, but I believe I did. Maybe…I still can one day.
AJ presses a light kiss to the top of my head. It’s barely a touch, but I feel it down to my toes. For that instant, the cold, empty space where I used to be warms. “I can do that, darlin’. For as long as you need.”
He gives the quilt a light tug, then carefully wraps it around me. Is the scent—gardenias, I think—familiar? Or do I just need it to be?
“Let’s see if that poor excuse for a La-Z-Boy will fit us both.” For the first time all day, his smile isn’t forced, and mine…well, it might just have found its way back from wherever it was locked away.
I drift in AJ’s arms. Not quite asleep, but not awake either. From time to time, he whispers something against my hair, but I can’t quite make out the words. They don’t matter, because the tone is clear. Reassuring. Comforting. Loving.
Until a brisk knock on the door pulls a hoarse yelp from my lips. “Shhh, darlin’. It’s just the doc. You’re safe.”
I blink hard until I can focus on Dr. Reyes. He isn’t wearing his usual warm smile. “Grace? Is your memory returning?”
“No,” I say softly.
“Oh. I thought…” He gestures to the two of us crammed together in the tiny chair. Heat blooms on my cheeks until I remember it’s my husband holding me.
“She got dizzy,” AJ says, his back stiffening and his voice taking on a hard edge. “She fell.”
Dr. Reyes pulls a tiny pen light from his pocket and checks my eyes. It hurts—every time—but I’m used to it by now, and manage not to flinch.
“Your pupil response is normal. That is good. You did not hit your head, did you?”
“I caught her,” AJ grits out. “But if I’d been a second later…”
The doctor’s gaze softens. “Dizziness, vertigo, even the amnesia are not uncommon in the early stages of recovery from a traumatic brain injury. I will run another CT scan in a few minutes to check for any additional swelling. But there is something we must discuss first.”
“Unless it’s life and death, get her the damn scan right now.” AJ shifts his arms around me, like he’s about to sit up. “Please,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.
Reyes shoves his hands into the pockets of his white coat. “This will not take long, AJ, but it is important. Miguel Sandoval is coming to the clinic tomorrow around noon. If you and your friends are still here, I fear what his reaction will be.”
I look up at my husband, confused. “Friends?”
AJ helps me turn so I can see his face. “I didn’t come down here alone, darlin’. My brother, a friend of ours who used to be in the FBI, and one of my lieutenants came too. In case Sandoval made trouble.”
I’m so confused. Who is this Sandoval and why is Reyes afraid of him?
“What…trouble?” The words are coming easier now. They don’t fill me with as much panic—at least not with AJ.
“Miguel Sandoval is head of the Sandoval Cartel,” he explains.
“He controls all of Chihuahua and most of Coahuila all the way to the Texas border. And unless I’m a complete idjit, the reason this clinic has all the equipment it does, the reason it even exists, is because the good doctor here is the cartel’s personal physician. ”
Reyes stares down at his polished black shoes. I never thought to ask why he worked here. Or why there was a clinic in the middle of nowhere.
“If Grace’s scan shows no additional swelling, bleeding, or clots,” the doctor says, finally meeting AJ’s gaze, “you should leave first thing in the morning.”
“And if it ain’t safe for her to travel yet?” AJ’s arms tighten around me. “You run a clinic, doc. You treat the injured. Sandoval doesn’t need to know who we are.”
Reyes’ thin laugh isn’t reassuring. “The four of you reek of law enforcement, Captain Stone, and Miguel is no fool. Treating one of the locals? That I could explain easily. But the wife of a Texas Ranger? The missing wife of a Texas Ranger? He would shoot me for keeping this from him. You and your friends would disappear. Miguel does not harm innocent women, so Grace would survive, but she would be alone, and that… No. Either she is well enough to get on your fancy plane in the morning, or you will have to drive to Chihuahua and hide there until she is.”
“Fuckin’ hell. There ain’t nothin’ I want more than to take Grace home, but I won’t risk hurtin’ her. So you give her that scan, Reyes. And you better be damn sure of the results.”
Dr. Reyes maneuvers the wheelchair next to the recliner. “I am a doctor first. Cartel second. If you trust nothing else about me, Stone, trust that.”