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Detective Dunn raised a brow.
Jake shrugged and followed the nurse. Dunn shadowed Jake—a bit too close, in Jake’s opinion.
The nurse hesitated beside a curtain and turned to Jake. “We had a hard time calming her down and didn’t want to oversedate her because of the head injury, so please don’t upset her.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The nurse slid the curtain open. “Robin? This is Detective Dunn and Jake, the man who brought you in.”
Robin slowly opened her eyes.
“I’m Detective Dunn.” Dunn identified himself.
“You wanted to see me?” Jake said.
She looked at Jake and furrowed her eyebrows as if she struggled to focus. Then she frowned. “You. You were in the street. When I was… I was running.…” Her breathing quickened and she looked like she was going to hyperventilate.
The nurse eyed the blood pressure monitor. “It’s okay, Robin.” She motioned to Jake. “Please leave.”
He hesitated, not sure what had just happened or how to fix it. “Sure. Okay.” Then he shot Robin a comforting smile. “I’ll be right outside.”
She looked away, the nurse hovered over her, and Jake walked out, running an anxious hand through his hair. What had just happened?
He’d frightened her; that’s what.
A burn started low and spread through his gut. Jake’s memories surged to the surface. Her terrified expression looked way too familiar.
It reminded Jake of what he feared most. Becoming his old man.
Robin might have drawn a blank on ninety-nine percent of her life, but for some reason Jake Walters had spiked panic in her chest.
Being chased, threatened.
She knew the man named Jake, wearing a leather jacket and a silver chain that peeked out from beneath a black, V-neck T-shirt, hadn’t threatened her. She’d never forget the sparkle of those amazing blue-green eyes as he’d leaned over her.
Everything will be okay.
Her panic eased remembering the sound of his voice.
She’d been running for her life. She knew that much. But who had she been running from, and why had Jake been there?
A sudden bang made her grip the sheets to her chest with white-knuckled fingers. She’d heard that sound before. Twice.
Red filled her vision. Oozing across the floor. Blood?
“Robin?”
Robin glanced at the nurse.
“Someone dropped a tray. That’s all,” the nurse said.
Robin nodded. She remembered her name. That was a good sign, right? Or had someone told her Robin was her name? Rats.
“You’re safe now,” the nurse said.
Hardly. Robin knew it deep in the core of her bones.
“I have to remember. I have to…” Images flashed across her thoughts so quickly, she couldn’t hold onto any of them.
She felt vulnerable and terrified. Come on, Robin, you remembered your name, you can remember the rest: your friends, where you work, maybe a boyfriend?
Did she have one? She hoped so. He’d protect her, right?
“She’s right. You’re safe, Miss Strand,” Detective Dunn said.
She glanced at him. His voice didn’t calm her, not like Jake’s. Detective Dunn was a bulky, tough-looking man with a permanent frown, and almost vicious glint to his eyes.
Oh, cry. You are so overreacting.
“Are you afraid of Jake?” Detective Dunn pushed. “You think he tried to hurt you?”
“No, I’m not afraid of him. I’m…” Robin shook her head and closed her eyes.
“Do you remember anything that can help us?” the detective said.
“Yes. No. I’m not sure how real it is.”
“Real?”
She opened her eyes. “It looks like a dream, in my head. It could have happened, but maybe not. I’m sorry. They tell me I have amnesia.” She fingered a gold locket at the base of her neck. “Sounds stupid.”
“We’re getting ready to move her to a room,” the nurse said.
“I’ll check back later,” the detective said. “But I have to ask, are you sure Jake wasn’t trying to hurt you?”
She thought it odd that he asked. “I’m sure.”
“Even though you can’t remember what happened?”
“What do you want from me?” Her voice went up an octave.
“Please,” the nurse said to the detective. “We’re trying to keep her calm.”
“Sorry. I’ll be close, ma’am.”
She didn’t care if Detective Dunn stayed close, but she hoped Jake would keep his word and be right outside. What was happening? Was she developing some kind of syndrome for the handsome stranger? Sure, why not? He was the only thing she remembered before waking up in the hospital.
With a sigh, she laid her head back against the pillow. The nurse checked the minor contusion on her head, probably the cause of her memory loss.
“I’d like to call someone,” Robin said, then hesitated. “But I don’t know who to call.”
She sounded sad, even to her own ears, yet she didn’t think she was a sad person.
“Here’s your briefcase.” The nurse placed it on Robin’s lap. “I’ll bet you’ve got an emergency number in your cell phone.”
“Great, thanks.”
“They’ll be down shortly to take you to a room.” The nurse wrote something on a chart and hovered beside Robin, probably afraid she’d have a complete mental breakdown if left alone.
Robin began the search of her messy briefcase. She dug and shuffled things around, but came up empty. No cell phone.
She zipped open a side pocket and found her wallet, keys, gum and lip gloss. She pulled out her driver’s license. “At least I’ll know where to tell the cab to drop me,” she muttered.
The nurse shot her a sympathetic smile.
Gripping her briefcase to her chest like a security blanket, Robin inhaled, hoping the scent would trigger some kind of memory. She closed her eyes and sighed.
A few seconds later, someone cleared his throat. She opened her eyes and Jake stood there, not too close, offering a tentative smile. “I thought… I wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked scared before.”
“Sir, you shouldn’t be here,” the nurse said.
“No, it’s okay.” Robin sat up a little and fought the urge to brush flyaway hair off her face. Sheesh, girl, he’s not interested in you that way. Not to mention she must look like she’d just gone ten rounds in a boxing ring.
“I’m glad you came back,” Robin said. “What happened tonight, to me?”
“We’re not sure.” He took a slight step closer, but just one. “I was outside the Chambers Building and saw you running. Something spooked you, big time.”
“They think I saw a murder?”
“Yes, but they don’t know for sure.”
Robin attempted a smile. “It’s a good thing you were there.”
“Glad I could help.”
A few seconds of awkward silence stretched between them as the nurse checked a monitor. Jake seemed uncomfortable, but Robin couldn’t figure out why.
“Well, anyway,” he said and turned.
Panic shot through her chest. “Are you leaving?”
He glanced back at her. “I wasn’t going to, not until you’re settled. If that’s okay.”
“Yes, very okay. I mean I’d rather you stay around if you’ve got nothing better to do, which I’m sure you do, but if you didn’t—” She stopped herself. “Sorry. I’m rambling.”
The nurse smiled as she checked Robin’s IV.
“You’ve been through a lot tonight,” Jake said. “You’re allowed.”
“Guys hate ramblers.” She remembered that from somewhere.
“Not all guys.” With a half smile he pointed to the door. “I’ll be right outside that door.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
She liked Jake and wished he’d been a permanent part of her past. Then again, this could be part of a goofy syndrome that happens when someone is saved by another person.
A handsome man with gentle eyes.
That hit to your head really messed you up.
“I’ve got to check on another patient. I’ll be right back, okay?” the nurse said.
“Sure.”
But Robin was far from okay. She had to get a grip on her discombobulated brain and focus on the problem at hand: remembering.
She clutched her briefcase to her chest, closed her eyes, took a slow, deep breath, determined to remember. Instead, anxiety washed over her. Something important was happening soon, and she was in charge of a lot of people. Yet she’d be lucky if she could cross the street on her own. Her knee was banged up, her head was wonky, and she’d sprained her wrist when she fell to the ground.
You were very lucky.
She’d heard those words at least five times since they’d brought her in. Yes, it could have been so much worse. She considered thanking God for her good fortune, but stopped herself. Somehow she sensed He’d never answered her prayers before, so why give Him the credit?
“Miss Strand, how are you feeling?”
She opened her eyes to the back of a doctor in green scrubs. He was doing something, probably looking over her chart.
“I’ve been better,” she said.
“I’m going to put something in your line to help you sleep tonight.”
“Oh. Okay.” The other doctor had said he didn’t want to completely zonk her out. Oh well. Different doctors, different styles.
The doctor stood just behind her bed and fiddled with her IV. “A good night’s sleep might help you move past the trauma.”
“And help me remember?”
“You don’t remember anything about what happened tonight?”
“No. Well, yes. I remembered the guy who helped me. That’s good, right?”
“Remembering anything is good.” He paused. “You don’t remember what you witnessed in the office building?”
“What I witnessed?” she repeated, feeling suddenly cold. “No, I don’t…” Her head felt like a lead weight sinking into the pillow.
“Rest, Miss Strand,” he said, his voice sounding far away. “Everything will be fine.”
