Page 55 of Lethal Threat
Marshall takes a drink. He hums as he lowers his mug. “Good cocoa at that.”
“See, he agrees,” Sierra says with a conspiratorial wink his direction.
Marshall’s face crunches. “Wait a minute, that wasn’t what I said.”
“Not yet, but I’ll convince you.” She lowers herself onto the sofa next to me and smiles. This time, she’s more relaxed. Or more determined.
“Good grief, woman.” I look at her out of the corner of my eye. “You’re going to try to play my friend against me?”
“I’m helping. You need to go do your new job. I’m sure your boss will agree. As I told you earlier, I don’t want to be a burden. I just can’t remember certain things… It’s not like I’m an infant. I can stay home during the day by myself.”
She turns that smile on me. “I even know how to use a phone. I could call you if I needed to.”
I grunt. This conversation needs to end soon. “Not the same as someone being here.”
I reach for her, sliding my hand under her hair and letting it come to rest at the base of her neck. The skin there is warm and soft below my fingers. “This kind of work isn’t a nine-to-five thing, I could be gone for days, even weeks. I’m not taking off while you’re out of sorts.”
Marshall asks, “How are you feeling, Sierra?”
She shrugs. “A little bruised up, a little tired, but otherwise, pretty normal physically.”
“Mind if I ask a few questions?” He glances at me and Inod because I know he wants to help move this investigation along. He doesn’t want a dangerous threat out there if we can take care of it.
Keeping his voice easy, he asks, “Have you had any recollections about the night you were taken to the hospital?”
Her gaze falls down to her clasped her hands. “Not yet. The first thing I remember is a nurse waking me up. I was cold and wet. My hair was totally tangled with this weird debris from the water.” She shudders. “Oh, and I could taste some kind of terrible salt water.”
Marshall places his mug on the table and steeples his fingers. “That’s good that you remember those things, but don’t try to force it. I’ve had friends that have had memory problems after a head injury. You should just rest and let this man here take care of you.”
“Did they get their memory back?”
He cautiously says, “Most of them, yes.”
She leans back against the sofa. “I hope that I’m one of those people.”
“It’s okay, babe,” I murmur. “There’s no rush.”
“But there is. What if someone did this and they are going to hurt another woman? If I could remember, then we could stop them.”
The tears on her lashes wreck me. I reach for her hand. “Easy, sweetheart. Let’s try not to get you too upset.”
She glances at me, through those tears, with worry in her eyes. “I’m trying. But honestly, I can’t stop the horrible spiraling questions.”
Fucking hell. “Babe,” I say roughly.
Giving herself a little shake, she turns her gaze back to Marshall. “There haven’t been any distinct memories, but Idid have this weird sensation last night when we arrived. Cole, I know you saw me react.”
I didn’t just see her; I felt her distress. “You mentioned you felt physically unwell.”
“Now that I’ve slept on it, I think I’d call it revulsion. It was visceral. This… awful feeling.”
My stomach knots around my spine. With my blood running cold, I massage her neck. “Maybe it’s related to the accident.”
The light in her eyes dims. She pulls away. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go clean up the kitchen.”
The last thing I want to do is let her go, but she gives me a look that clearly signals that she needs some room to breathe.
Unhappy that she’s upset, I say, “Don’t push yourself too hard.”
