Chapter Twenty

Laura jolted awake out of a nightmare early Sunday morning with Rob’s body protectively draped around hers. As she lay there and waited for her pulse to slow to a subsonic rate, she tried to remember everything she could about the dream.

It started at the computer again. The pounding on the door. This time, she let the shadow figure in and fought with it, wrestling like it was a tornado of energy.

Next to her, Rob stirred and raised his head. “You okay?”

She let him fold her into his arms as she shook her head.

“Nightmares?”

“Yeah.”

She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of his heart beating against her ear through his chest.

Another thing that felt oooh so right, even though she couldn’t remember a damn thing.

He felt right.

If it wasn’t for all the pain she was in, she would have given serious thought to kissing him and seeing where it went. She suspected they might have had a great sex life before.

There’s that fucking word again.

She kept her forehead pressed against his chest. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

He stroked her back. Through the T-shirt she wore, his fingers gently traced her spine as if he knew every ridge and curve.

Maybe he does.

“I don’t have to go to work until tomorrow morning. I think for today we need to spend some time alone. Just the two of us. Talking.”

She thought about the journals she’d found the night before, but compared to spending time alone with Rob, they took second place. “Okay.”

Her voice sounded small and lost even to her own ears. What was it about him that did that to her? That his merely suggesting something sent her will spinning to do it without question?

He kissed the top of her head. “We need to talk about you taking a trip to Montana.”

She stiffened. “No. I don’t want to be away from you.”

“I don’t want to be away from you, either. But it’s something we need to think about.”

“Do I have to decide right now?”

“No.” He kissed the top of her head again, then made her look up at him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But,” he carefully said, “if I say you go, you go. Okay?”

There was that tone again. Part of her rebelled, wanting to scream no, it wasn’t fucking okay, that she was an adult and she’d do what she damn well pleased.

The other part of her caved without hesitation, acquiescing. “Okay.”

“Good g—” He cut himself off as if he was going to say more. “Good,” he repeated, a single syllable.

She kissed him, her body coming alive when she felt his cock harden in his shorts, where her thigh pressed against him. He responded at first before pulling away.

“Sweetheart, we can’t.” His voice sounded hoarse, thick.

“Sure we can,” she whispered, wanting more. The feel of her own body responding to him, something more than pain, she needed it.

Needed him.

He gently caught her wrists and pulled them to his chest. “Your ribs,” he said. “We need to be careful.”

“I don’t care.”

“You don’t remember me much yet.”

“I don’t care. I want you.”

His brown gaze bored into hers. “I care.” He raised her hands to his lips and kissed them. “I love you, and yeah, I want you. But I think we need to do a lot of talking before we take that step.”

“We used to sleep together.”

“Yes, we did.” He pressed her hands to his chest again. She felt his heart pounding against her palms. “And you don’t know how much I want you. I don’t want you to do this and regret it later.”

“Why would I regret it? We were getting married.”

He sadly smiled. “Exactly. Were.”

Shock filled her. “Don’t you still want to marry me?”

“Of course I do. But until I know you can speak of it in the future tense instead of the past tense, I think we need to take it slow.”

A sadly resolute expression filled his face and she knew he wouldn’t budge.

“What if I remember tomorrow? After the session with Dr. Collins. What…what if it’s all better then?”

“Believe me, I hope that happens, sweetheart.”

She wanted to reach up to her throat but she didn’t want to pull her hands free from his gentle grip. She wished he’d never let her go.

She wished he’d roll her over onto her back, pin her to the bed, and fuck her brains out while holding her wrists trapped in his secure grasp.

She also knew he meant what he said.

“What did Det. Thomas say about the card?”

His expression darkened. “He doesn’t hold out much hope for it giving him any leads.”

“But he thinks the guy sent it, doesn’t he?”

Rob nodded.

She buried her face against his chest. “I don’t want to go to Montana,” she softly said.

“I know, sweetheart.” He released her wrists and put his arms around her again. “You don’t have to go today. Today, I just want to spend the day relaxing with you.

* * *

Bill made himself scarce. After fixing them breakfast, Rob drove Laura over to Englewood Beach on Manasota Key.

It was a sunny, warm Sunday, and the beach was filled with a mix of tourists and young families.

“We like going up to Middle Beach better,” he told her as they walked along the water’s edge.

“Middle Beach?”

“It’s what everyone calls it. It’s officially called Blind Pass Beach. It’s quieter there.”

“Why aren’t we there?”

He didn’t answer at first, but she figured it out. “You want to be where there’s more people.”

He gently squeezed her hand. “Yeah.”

They settled in the shade of one of the picnic shelters and watched the water. She sat next to him, snuggled against his side with his arm draped around her shoulders. She’d let him talk her into a pain pill, but with the slow walk and the cool sea breeze blowing in off the Gulf, she didn’t feel as groggy today.

Maybe it was his company that helped.

“I want to remember it all,” she said. “I want to marry you.”

He chuckled. “You don’t know me very well yet.”

“If I knew you well enough to want to marry you then, won’t I want to marry you now?”

He smiled, but she couldn’t get over how sad it looked. “I hope so, sweetheart. I really hope so.”

* * *

Rob had already left for work when Bill got Laura up and moving and in the truck early Monday morning for her appointment with Dr. Collins. When they arrived at the office, only a receptionist sat in the waiting area.

Bill walked ahead to check her in. “Laura Spaulding.”

“I’ll tell her she’s here.”

The receptionist had just hung up the phone when one of the office doors opened and a woman appeared. She wasn’t as old as Dr. Simpson, but she wore a friendly smile behind her wire-rimmed glasses.

“Laura?”

She’d just sat down. She stood, trying not to wince. She’d adamantly refused any pain or anti-anxiety meds that morning. “Can my brother come in with me?”

“If that’s what you want, absolutely.”

They walked in and seated themselves in chairs near her desk. Dr. Collins picked up a notepad and went through information she had from Dr. Simpson. “Is that all correct?”

Laura nodded.

Dr. Collins took her glasses off and put them on her desk. “You’ve been through a lot the past couple of weeks.”

Laura nodded. “That’s what they tell me.”

“I’m not being facetious when I ask this, but what exactly do you want to get out of your sessions?”

“I’m hoping maybe I can get a few memories back. If nothing else, maybe I can get the dreams to stop. Deal with the stress. I’m not asking for miracles. I just want a little peace.”

Dr. Collins nodded. “That’s fair. Realistic. Tell me about the dreams.”

Laura recounted every detail she could.

“I don’t want to give you any false hopes. I think your dreams are memories trying to return. You probably already considered that.”

“I didn’t want to hope too much.”

“From what you’ve told me you’re already on the road to recovering your memories. I know your neurologist can’t promise you anything and neither can I. But from what you’ve told me, I think you will at some point recover a bulk of your memories. Maybe not of the attack itself, and maybe not in the next few days, but hopefully soon and everything up until that point.”

“What do I do now?”

“Are you open to trying hypnosis?”

“At this point, I’d dance naked in the middle of US 41 during morning rush hour if it’d bring my memory back.”

Dr. Collins laughed. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Let’s see how you respond to hypnosis.” Laura consented to the doctor making an audio tape of the session.

Laura felt more relaxed reclining on the sofa. The doctor turned the lights down and sat in a chair next to the sofa. After twenty minutes, Laura was relaxed and responding to the doctor’s questions.

The psychologist took Laura back to the dreams.

“Do you know the shadow?”

“I think I do.”

“Is it someone you deal with every day?”

“No.”

“Would you know the shadow if you saw it again?”

Laura frowned, concentrating. “Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Does the shadow ever say anything to you? Do you ever hear anything?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Okay. What did you say to the shadow?” Laura repeated her words from the dreams. “And what did you say to the shadow when he showed up at your door?”

“Hi.” Laura’s eyes snapped open. “I did know him!”

Bill tensed, resisting the urge to say anything.

Dr. Collins looked at Laura. “Do you see a face?”

She closed her eyes again. “Not yet.”

“Does any name come to mind?”

She thought about it. “Dave maybe? I’m not sure.”

“That’s okay. Don’t force it.”

Laura lay there, then suddenly burst into tears. Dr. Collins got her a box of tissue and motioned to Bill to stay still.

“Laura, when I count to three, you’re going to relax and be calm. You’ll remember everything we talked about, but you’ll be relaxed. Okay?”

Laura nodded.

“Okay. One, two, three.”

Laura blew her nose.

“How do you feel?”

“I’m okay.”

Dr. Collins patted her on the arm. “Good. Let’s switch tracks for a while. I’d like to talk about what’s been happening since the attack…”

At the end of the hour, Dr. Collins made Laura another appointment for two days later. “I have some ideas about how we might proceed from here. We’ll talk more at your next appointment.”

Bill escorted her out. Laura couldn’t help but notice how he scanned the parking lot before leaving the building.

“Nervous?”

“About you? Absolutely. I can’t afford to lose you, sis.” He protectively put his arm around her and unlocked the car door.

She had a follow-up appointment with a doctor about her injuries. The only advice he had for her was to take it easy and keep seeing Dr. Simpson and Dr. Collins. There wasn’t anything they could do for her injured ribs but prescribe rest.

Bill drove her back to Englewood. She only spent an hour at the shop before needing to go home and lie down. That also frustrated her. She knew she wasn’t a person who normally sloughed off work.

Not that anyone apparently held it against her now, but she took it personally. The ribs didn’t hurt as badly as they had before, even without the pain meds, but she knew she still had to take it easy or risk re-injuring them.

Fortunately, the only mail awaiting her was bills.

Her brother smiled as he tossed them onto the table.

“What?”

“Never thought I’d ever hear someone happy to say they received nothing but bills in their mail.”

Rob had to work late, so they went to a restaurant in North Port for an early dinner. Despite the place being busy they were able to get a corner booth where they could talk privately.

“How you feel?” he asked her.

She shook her head as she looked over the menu. “Drained. Tired. I didn’t like reliving some of that stuff.”

He sipped his tea. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. If I’d known—”

She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. “Stop. Right now. You had no idea. I know you would have been here. It’s not your fault this happened any more than it’s Rob’s.”

Bill ordered them appetizers. Laura needed more time to decide on her dinner. Finally, she decided on a salad. She sat back in the booth. “I’m so tired.”

“You’ve been through a lot, Laur. It’s to be expected.”

“I expect more from myself.” He grinned. “What?” she asked.

“Nothing, but that’s something you used to always say. Maybe more of you is coming back than you realize.”

She played with her glass of iced tea. “I can only hope.”

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