2. Fable

2

Fable

A s the sheriff drives me up a winding mountain road, I realize I should be scared. I don’t remember anything about my life other than I think my name is Fable. Here I am, just riding down a desolate road with a stranger. Whoever I am, I might not be that smart.

My head’s still hurting, pounding like a big bass drum. If I move too fast one way or another, there’s a sharp pain that lances through my brain. I glance at my companion. He’s definitely handsome with dirty blonde hair and greyish blue eyes. The color seems to shift with his mood or the lighting or something. For some reason, I’m intrigued by the color of them, but I’m not sure why.

The moment I saw him in the hospital, I felt better. I didn’t know who I was, but with him there, it was going to be all better. I didn’t even know he was the sheriff. There was just something about him that comforted me.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

And his voice. It’s kind of gravely and deep and soooo sexy.

“Yeah,” I say, looking out the window. “This place is beautiful.”

“Virginia. Shenandoah Valley. I’m actually the sheriff for Pottsville. Does that ring any bells?”

I turn back to him, and again, I have to fight off a sigh. The man is so beautiful. He could easily play Thor. I can imagine him strutting around in that costume Chris Hemsworth wore, his muscles bunching beneath the skintight fabric.

I shift on the seat, trying to ease the pressure between my legs. Unfortunately, it just makes things worse, and I have to bite back a growl.

“Fable?”

I blink. Oh, god, how long have I been staring at him? I feel heat crawl up into my cheeks. “No. Just nothing.”

He reaches over and pats my hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this figured out soon enough.”

He touched me! Okay, so I’m being a little weird about it. Or maybe this is how I always am. Maybe I’m kind of skanky and want to jump on every Norse god that comes to my rescue.

I should be more unsettled, not knowing who I am. Truthfully, I was ready to have a full-on panic attack in the hospital until he stepped into my room. The moment I saw him, it was like my soul knew I was safe. That he would take care of everything and keep me safe. I have no idea what my life was like before now, but I think it wasn’t always safe. This feeling of safety seems new to me.

It’s odd, but it is what it is.

It only takes us about another five minutes until we arrive at a cabin in the woods. Flashes of another house hit me so hard my head starts to spin. We come to a stop in front of the house, but I’m worried I might throw up.

“Angel, are you okay?”

I close my eyes and draw in a huge breath, releasing it slowly. When I open my eyes, I look over at him.

“I remember a house that looks like this.”

“My house?”

“This is your house?”

He nods. “I didn’t want to take you into town to headquarters. Lots of noise and people.”

“But it wasn’t your house. It was another house. Bigger. Not as cute.”

“You think my house is cute?”

I smile at the irritation in his voice. Men. Not that I know that many of them. Or maybe I do…ugh. I hate this.

“Yeah. I like how if you don’t know where it is, you wouldn’t find it. And it’s…I think I like quiet.”

He nods and gets out of the truck. Before I can get the door open, he’s made his way around the front of the vehicle and is opening the door. He says nothing but picks me up in his arms and carries me to the front door.

“I think I can walk, Sheriff.”

“Leo.”

“What?”

“My name is Leo.”

He opens his door, and I realize he didn’t unlock it. That means there is someone at home. What if he’s married? I didn’t notice a ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. Papa doesn’t wear one either.

Wait.

“What?”

I look up at him as we stand just inside the door. He’s still holding me, which is absurd.

“You can set me down.”

“I know. Don’t wanna. So, tell me what thought you had. Something else.”

The demand should irritate me. For some reason, I have a feeling I don’t like being told what to do.

“I…the name Papa came up in my mind. Like that’s what I call my father.”

And I’m sure of it. There’s a spark of a memory hitting me now, a voice. An angry voice. I immediately recoil from it, not wanting to know if my father is the one who hurt me.

“Hey,” he says, pulling me from my thoughts. He waits until I raise my gaze do his. “Don’t try too hard. Remember what the doc told you.”

I nod, then make a face.

“Pain?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell you what. Why don’t I let you get a little rest? Doc said it was okay to let you sleep as long as you don’t do it for too long.”

He says all of this as he walks me into a bedroom. The bed isn’t made, but that doesn’t bother me. It looks so…wonderful. Definitely manly, filled with dark colors and lots of plaid, along with big dark furniture. But instead of being overwhelmed by it, I’m comforted by it. The bed looks fantastic. Big and comfy. I bet it’s a dream to sleep on.

Not to mention, do other things.

My body heats up at that thought. The idea of what kinds of things can happen in bed, especially with a man like the sheriff, makes me shiver.

“Are you cold?”

I nod because I’m embarrassed. He walks to the opposite side of the bed. He finally sets me down and frowns at me. “Is that comfortable?”

I shrug. “I guess. But they are the only clothes I have right now.”

That’s when my situation hits me again, fear and panic hitting me so hard I almost lose my breath. I’m alone in the world, and I don’t know who I am. I genuinely don’t have anything other than the bracelet, which is in the truck's evidence bag.

He takes me by the upper arms and leans down. “Hey, Angel, don’t worry. We’ll figure this all out.”

Even as I nod, tears fill my eyes and spill down on my cheeks. He groans and pulls me into his arms. “Don’t cry, Angel. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

I nod against his chest, and he holds me for the longest time, rocking us back and forth. When I finally stop sobbing like a little baby, Leo pulls back and cups my face in his hands. His fingers are long with calluses, the sign of a man who works hard for a living. For some reason, that makes me like him even more.

“Now, I’m going to get one of my t-shirts, and if you want to, you can wear it. That way, you can have the scrubs to wear until we get you some regular clothes.”

I nod as he brushes away the tears then kisses my forehead. He lets me go to get a shirt that has the words Pottsville Police Department on it.

“I’ll let you get some rest. You need anything, you just call out for me.”

“I hate to ask, but do you have a toothbrush I can use?”

He nods. “There’s a few new ones still in the package in the middle drawer in the bathroom.” He nods toward a door on the opposite side of the bed.

But he doesn’t leave. He keeps standing there, his hands on his lean hips.

“Is there something wrong?”

He smiles and shakes his head. “Remember, get some rest. That’s the best thing for getting your memory back.”

When he finally leaves me alone, I look around the room again. This is definitely his room. I shrug off the warm feelings I get about that. He’s only doing his job, and this is probably the best place to keep me safe. With that in mind, I go to the bathroom and brush my teeth. I look at myself in the mirror. The bandage on my forehead is a stark reminder of what happened—whatever that is. With a sigh, I go back into the bathroom. I strip out of the scrubs and put on his shirt. Oh, god, it smells like him. Like cedar and fresh air. If people would bottle that up, people could make a fortune.

I slip beneath the covers, getting another big whiff of his scent. With the warmth of the blankets and the thought that I’m safe finally, I drift off to sleep.