Page 12 of Montana Memory

I’d told myself I was only watching to make sure she was okay. That the second I saw her get on a bus or bring in someone for help, I’d be gone. But she never did. So when she left for the hospital this morning, I followed.

Blending in was easy. I sat in the waiting room for hours, slouched in a corner, hood pulled low, chin tucked to my chest. No one looked twice at a man who appeared half asleep and in need of a shower. The key was posture, gait, energy. People saw what you wanted them to see.

Jada never noticed me either, although I’d only been a few feet away from her.

When she was taken back to the ER, I adjusted. Ditching my hoodie, I slipped into a side corridor near the staff lockers, eyes scanning the sea of white coats and scrubs. When a young doctor stormed out of the lounge, cursing under his breath about a lost pager, I followed. Five minutes later, I had his coat, ID, and enough swagger to pass as someone who belonged here.

And it worked.

For hours, I kept to the fringes, occasionally glancing at a clipboard as if I had somewhere to be. When I found Jada’s room and heard whispers among the nurses that she’d been locked in there and cops were coming to get her, I knew I actually had to do something. I couldn’t let the cops take her.

Jada had no idea what she’d done. No memory of stalking Kenzie, of kidnapping her, or of Alan Ard, who’d manipulated her. The second those cops got here, none of that would matter. She’d be booked, processed, thrown into a system that wouldn’t care whether she was guilty or not.

A familiar pressure built in my chest, that push-pull of logic and instinct. I wasn’t supposed to get involved. I’d spent the last three years since I’d gotten out of the Army keeping my head down and my distance from everything.

But something about Jada kept me tethered. I couldn’t let them take her.

So I’d shifted my persona again, going from cocky young resident to older, tired doctor nobody would pay much attention to. Hell, Jada hadn’t even recognized me when I first went in the door.

But honestly, that had been the easy part. Now, I had to get us out of here.

We’d been in the hallway less than thirty seconds before an overhead announcement blared through the speakers:Security personnel, report to the emergency ward.

I clenched my jaw. Shit. They were already looking for her. We had seconds before the wrong person spotted us.

I steered her into the nearest empty exam room, my grip firm but not bruising. She followed without resistance, her breath uneven.

“There.” I jerked my chin toward a pile of scrubs folded on a counter. “Put those on.”

She hesitated, but one sharp look had her moving. I turned away, shrugging out of the stolen white coat and dropping it to the floor. Underneath, I was back to my own clothes—jeans, a dark Henley. Nothing that stood out.

When she was ready, I cracked open the door and scanned the hallway. A security guard passed by, his gaze sweeping the corridor. I adjusted my stance, shifting my posture, relaxing my shoulders just enough to appear tired. Preoccupied.

His eyes slid right over me and kept going. I nudged Jada forward, and we moved in the opposite direction. At the elevators, I hit the button, my muscles coiled tight beneath myskin. The ride down was slow, each floor taking a lifetime. When the doors finally opened, we stepped out into the crowded lobby. Security was close.

Too close.

I tugged Jada into the hospital’s tiny gift shop, moving with purpose toward a display of stuffed bears and balloons.

“Pick one,” I muttered.

Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Pick up a damn bear and look like you care about it.”

She grabbed a small brown bear off the shelf, holding it between her hands like she was deciding whether it was the right choice before putting it back. I shifted beside her, pretending to scan the shelves, my head tilted toward the entrance. The guards passed by without looking in, but the tension in my chest didn’t ease. We weren’t out yet.

I guided her back toward the exit, our pace measured, controlled. The doors were in sight. Almost there?—

Then two cops stepped inside.

I didn’t hesitate. Sliding an arm around Jada, I pulled her into me, her body flush against mine.

“Just hold on to me,” I murmured, loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “We’ll research the cancer. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t pull away. I dipped my head, pressing my lips close to her ear. “They’re looking for a woman alone. We’re just another couple in a hospital that got bad news.”

She gave a small nod, her forehead brushing my chest. I ignored the way she fit against me, the warmth of her body against mine.

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