Fatal Memories

A vision of Dylan lifting her in his arms popped into her mind. He gave off a sense of whipcord strength. He wouldn’t have trouble lifting her. How would he smell? Aftershave or not?

Wait. How much did a bulletproof vest weigh? The bulky apparel wrapped around her torso felt pretty heavy to her. Coupled with her own weight...

How much did she weigh? How tall was she? She’d glanced in the mirror during one of her trips to the bathroom, and the woman staring at her didn’t look familiar, just tall and gangly and too heavy to carry.

Okay. So being carried into her place was not a good idea. She groaned and covered her face with her hands.

People were trying to kill her. Guards stood outside her room and throughout the building to protect her. She had a ticking time bomb in her head, warning of some impending danger, and here she sat, worrying about her weight.

Some kind of agent she was.

The more she knew about herself, the more nothing fit together. She wasn’t the person she had been...the good and sturdy agent everyone liked. Would she ever be that person again?

The door flew open and she jerked.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Dylan’s voice rolled across her jangled nerves. That voice. Deep and smooth. Coming out of the darkness. The only thing that still felt familiar and safe. She released a small sigh of relief.

“Are you all right? You look a little pale. Do you need some help?”

Absolutely not. No lifting or carrying. No contact. “No. I’m fine.” She lunged to her feet.

Too fast. Too soon. The world spun in a dangerous whirlwind and she tilted. Before she knew it, an arm snaked around her waist and held her still.

Whipcord strong. Stable. Safe. Silly or not, she leaned into his shoulder and rested, waiting for the world to right itself again.

* * *

Dylan only meant to catch her, to keep her from falling, but the minute his arm went around her waist, something happened. She felt slender and so fragile. He could wrap his arm completely around her even with the bulky bulletproof vest. He already knew how fragile her mental state was, but to feel her slight, wispy frame sent a wave of protectiveness washing over him.

She was terrified and trying so hard to be brave and strong. He grasped her tighter and turned her body slightly inward. Her head slipped perfectly into the crook of his neck and he held her there. Safe. Protected.

I won’t let them get to you, Joss. Not like they got to Beth...at least not until you remember.

That was what he was here for, right? To keep her calm and stable so she could remember. That was all. With that thought, he placed his other hand on the curve of her waist and gently pulled her away. Her head was wobbly and her gaze a bit unfocused. He ducked to look into her eyes. The sight of those gray eyes, so wide and lost, almost undid him. He wanted to pull her into his arms and keep her there.

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