Chapter Twenty-Two
Grace
The heater shudders to life in the corner of the room. Soon, the dark shadows will come back, but for now, the last rays of sunlight filter through the window.
Marta prattled on about my handsome husband and brother-in-law as she removed the bulky, white bandage from around my head and replaced it with a single layer of stretchy gauze. If it weren’t for the thin hospital gown and bathrobe, I’d feel almost…normal.
I wish AJ had stayed. I don’t want to be alone. I think…I miss him. Can you miss someone you don’t remember?
The panic attack grabs me so fast and hard, I can’t breathe. This bed suddenly feels like a prison with its sterile sheets and cold, metal rails. I wrestle one of them down, then lurch for the recliner.
But the floor pitches. I don’t know which way is up. I can barely see, and it’s only when I feel the leather under my hands that I know I’m not going to hit the ground.
Vertigo. It’s just vertigo. You’re safe. And tomorrow, you’re going home.
Have I ever been on a plane before? What if I’m afraid of flying? Or get air sick? I touch the scar around my left wrist. What if I get to Austin and still remember nothing? Or what if I remember everything? What if the past three years are worse than I’ve imagined?
I pull the quilt up to my chest as someone knocks on the door. It’s soft, tentative. Like whoever’s on the other side isn’t sure if I’m awake, or wants to give me time to pretend I’m not.
At first, I don’t—can’t—say anything. I’m curled up in the recliner, willing my heart rate to return to normal. The vertigo left me wrung out and shaky. I’m completely exhausted, but the idea of getting back into that bed makes my skin crawl.
The knock comes again. A little stronger this time.
“Grace?” Parker’s steady, calm voice filters through the door, followed by a gentle creak as it opens a few inches. “Can I come in?”
“Yes,” I say softly.
She steps inside, shoulders hunched, a soft smile curving her lips.
Her tight braid is coming loose, though her flannel shirt is still just as crisp as ever.
She looks less like a seasoned law enforcement officer and more like someone’s overprotective little sister—except for the sharp glint in her eyes. I think that’s all Ranger.
“I asked AJ why you were still sportin’ the latest in hospital chic when he’d brought your favorite pair of pajamas. The man cursed a blue streak for so long, he ran out of air.” She chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Men. Even the best of ‘em are as dense as mud sometimes.”
I blink. “He…packed my clothes?” I don’t know why this surprises me. AJ has been completely focused on me since he arrived this morning. The quilt. The perfume. It was already so much it never occurred to me there could be more in that duffel bag.
Parker sets the bag at the foot of the bed, pulls out a folded bundle of light blue material, and lays it next to me. She runs a gentle hand over the fabric then raises her eyes to mine. “He said these were your favorite. You can tell they’ve been well-loved.”
A small, stunned ache grows behind my ribs. “He knows what my favorites are?”
Parker’s delicate, feminine snort fits her. “He folded these like they were the most precious things in the world. I don’t think there’s a damn thing about you he doesn’t know.”
The words knock something loose in my chest. I look away, my eyes stinging, and let my fingers graze the edge of the silky material. They’re soft, with a fresh, clean scent that vaguely reminds me of AJ. But there’s no memory behind them.
All I have is Parker’s word. And the feeling of home I found in AJ’s arms.
As if she can sense the shift in my emotions, she clears her throat. “You want to change into them? I can help. Or…call the nurse.”
I hesitate. When I moved from the bed to the recliner, the floor pitched like a boat in a hurricane. But the idea of getting out of this gown…
The thin fabric isn’t much more than paper. Scratchy, sterile…anonymous. Like me, I suppose. I need something that’s mine.
“If I stand up, I’ll fall.” My voice isn’t much more than a whisper, and my cheeks flush hot. I hate feeling this…helpless.
“Then we’ll improvise,” she says with a shrug. “I promise not to make it weird.”
Parker moves with quiet confidence, pulling the visitor’s chair over, then sinking to her knees next to the recliner. She doesn’t rush. There’s no awkwardness. Like she does this every day.
“If you feel even a little dizzy, tell me, and we’ll take a break. Okay?” Her blue-gray eyes search mine until I nod.
I manage to get my right leg into the pants, but she has to help me with the left. Never once does she make me feel exposed. Not even when I sway and she braces me with a gentle, yet firm hand on my shoulder.
“Have you done this before?” I ask, trying to distract myself before she has to tug the pants up to my waist.
“Helped my boss’s wife into a pair of pajamas? Why, that’s just another day in Texas law enforcement.” She gives me a wink, and it startles a soft, choked laugh from somewhere deep inside me. Somewhere I wasn’t sure I’d ever find again.
“There you are,” she says quietly. “I knew you were in there somewhere.”
I reach for her arm, holding on for little more than a beat. “Thank you. For this. For earlier. With Jasper and Connor. For coming so far…”
Parker’s gentle smile falls away. “Grace, you don’t have to thank any of us for being here. Me, Connor, Jasper…? There wasn’t a damn thing AJ could’ve done to stop us from coming. We’ve got your back. Even if you don’t remember what that looks like.”
My throat tightens. I blink hard, trying not to give in to the tears pricking at my eyes.
Parker moves behind me, deftly undoing the ties on the scratchy hospital gown, and I clutch the thin material to my chest before it falls.
“Give me your left hand, Grace. We’ll start there.”
The soft material is heavy enough to hide the fact I’m not wearing a bra. And it feels like heaven against my skin, with a subtle scent—lavender and cedar and a detergent I don’t remember buying. But something deep inside me relaxes a tiny bit.
After the last button is fastened, Parker takes a step back and gives me the once over. “There. Now you look more like you.”
“I don’t know who that is yet,” I say quietly. “Me.”
“You don’t have to figure it out tonight.” Parker reaches into the duffel bag and pulls out a pair of dark gray Keds and fuzzy pink socks. “The food should be here any minute. Want these too?”
“Hell, yes. Anything but those damn hospital slippers.”
Parker snickers as she helps me with the socks. “You never know. They might be the next big fashion trend. You could regret tossing them.”
“If I do, have me checked for another head injury.”
She lets out a low, sultry laugh. “Grace, if you ever wonder who you are…? Think back to right now.”
“How do you know?”
She’s silent for a long moment as she helps me get my feet into the shoes. “I just do.”
Her subdued tone worries me enough, I reach out and touch her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Parker says, her smile only a little forced. “There. You’re all set.”
I stare down at my arms. The sleeves cover the scars around my wrists. Parker never made me feel helpless or less than. If anything, I feel stronger now than I have since I woke up here.
“AJ will be back any minute,” she says. “I should go wash up before dinner. But…if you need anything tonight, I’m taking first watch. Call me, and I’ll hear you.”
The door clicks softly shut behind her, and I’m alone. But for the first time since I woke up in this place, I think maybe…I might find me again one day.