Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty-One

Adam rolled over in bed and groaned as his muscles reminded him that he wasn't healed, not by any stretch of the imagination. Movement was getting easier each day, but it was slow work. Two weeks at Crooked Tree and there was still nothing from Ryan as to who the hell he'd been. Apparently Ryan was meeting the same red tape as Jen had back in Missoula, and Adam was half-relieved and half-pissed that he didn't know much.

Apart from the memories. They caught him by surprise. The taste of banana cake conjured up a memory of a food fight; the scent of a wood burner had him recalling an old cabin on the outskirts of the ranch where the boys would stay for days here and there in the long, hot summers. Slowly the memories slipped back into his head, but they were of a gentler time: his childhood and the moments that shaped who he'd become.

Ethan was in them all, but not Justin. It was as if his mind couldn't handle recalling Justin, and given the nightmare he'd had about the fire when he first arrived here, he had to think something awful had happened to his friend.

Ethan probably thought the same thing, but he never voiced what was in his head. In fact, he was the perfect companion, very rarely leaving Adam alone and always carrying his weapon, even on their frequent horseback treks to the corners of Crooked Tree.

They planned on visiting Silver Lake today, and to say Ethan was apprehensive was an understatement. The place had been the last point where Justin and Adam had been seen, and the site of the moment where, trapped in rising water, Adam began to fear enclosed spaces. The place was going to be a trigger and he knew it.

Ethan knew it too.

But for now Ethan was sleeping—his hair mussed, his stubble with its hint of red in the brown, his body sprawled this way and that—with the sheet pushed down to his waist.

They had condoms; they had lube. They'd used the lube, but the condoms… Adam had to admit he was apprehensive, but he guessed he'd been through this before when he'd done it all before. If he'd done it all before.

Way to be like a sixteen-year-old in a twenty-eight-year-old's body.

He stared for a long time as the room filled with more light and he could look at Ethan without interruption. Ethan said he loved him, said it with so much conviction that Adam believed him.

It was just the not knowing. He didn't have a framework for loving Ethan back. Yes, he wanted him; yes, the lust was real; and yes, they were so good together in and out of bed. But—and it was a big but—Ethan had years of knowing about Adam, while all Adam had were a few memories.

Maybe that was how it was supposed to go? Maybe he should just trust how he was feeling, none of the crappy what-ifs. Because, clearly, if he'd been in a relationship before, then it didn't mean much if he'd forgotten it.

That was his theory and he was sticking to it.

"Hey." Ethan yawned. He rolled up and out of bed, used the bathroom, and came back with fresh minty breath.

Adam decided he'd do the same thing, hoping to hell that Ethan was on the same page for some early-morning fun.

"My ribs aren't so sore today." He climbed onto the bed and straddled Ethan, pressing down on his morning erection. "I think we should get on with things."

Ethan smiled up at him, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, not really. "We don't have to rush anything. It's not all about that."

Adam wrinkled his nose in protest and bent down to kiss Ethan, deeply and thoroughly. "Have you not seen that porn?" he said. "I want to try everything."

Ethan stayed silent, then very subtly pushed upward against Adam and groaned, closing his eyes. "Your ribs."

"Are doing okay." Adam stole another kiss and put on his best soft, cajoling voice. "Just be gentle with me."

"I think you should fuck me?—"

"No, no way. C'mon, Mr. Cop, lighten up."

Adam tried not to let any tension bleed into his voice. He wanted this. He wanted more—everything in fact—and every time they made love, he had new memories and remembered old ones.

"Adam—"

"Seriously, every time we make love, I remember stuff."

Ethan smiled, and this time the smile reached his eyes. "You mean I'm healing you with my magic penis?"

Adam snorted and kissed him again, this time lying flat and enjoying cloaking Ethan's body.

"It's a thing, you know," Ethan said deadpan.

"Well, let's give it a try."

Adam reached over for the lube and condoms with his sore hand, and there wasn't even a twinge. This morning he felt good, hopeful, positive.

He lay back on the bed, knees bent, and waited. "Come on, then."

Ethan side-eyed him. "You're so romantic."

"Who needs romance when they have access to a magic penis?"

Laughing, they kissed until the kisses grew heated and Ethan moved south to kiss and suck his way to Adam's cock, which was really into this whole thing.

This was sunshine and floating in warm water, and the expectation of a wonderful day.

Adam shook off the feeling of the "something else" that was poking at him, and he groaned as Ethan stretched him, sucking his cock and tasting him, and pressing his fingers inside.

It felt so good, like nothing he'd ever felt before—a connection he needed like his next breath.

Ethan pressed his cock inside, stopped, and waited for Adam's body to relax, and Adam yanked him down for a kiss. A tightening in his ribs warned him not to push it too much.

Ethan kissed him, pressing forward, and that way Ethan was inside him, and Adam's hard cock pushed between them.

"Okay?" Ethan asked.

Adam wasn't convinced until Ethan moved a little, touching something that made him see stars.

Stars, the night sky, and the taste of beer.

Ethan rocked a little, Adam groaned, and they moved together.

I've loved you since I knew my own mind.

The words spun in his head, fading away as his orgasm built. He was going to come like this, with Ethan owning him and with memories just out of reach.

Adam grasped at Ethan's arms; his fingers dug into flesh and Ethan cursed into the kisses, but he didn't say Adam should stop, and Adam didn't want to let go. He was so close, and when Ethan moved them, a strong shift in their balance, and managed to push a hand between them, circling Adam's cock, it was game over.

He'd never felt anything like this.

I love you. I'll love you forever.

And as Ethan pushed inside him again, coming and shouting Adam's name, it was all Adam could do to tell Ethan what he heard in his thoughts.

Because he knew the truth of them. He didn't have to have memories to know he loved Ethan.

That he had always loved Ethan.

Ryan Carter's call came ten minutes after they'd cleaned up and begun cooking breakfast. He'd found out some things and had two guys with him who wanted to see Adam.

They congregated in Jay's office again, waiting for the sheriff to arrive.

"I know you," Adam blurted out as soon as he saw the other men with Ryan. He felt trapped with the two men between him and the door. He backed up and ran straight into Ethan, who was right behind him. Ethan steadied him in a firm grip. Ethan wouldn't let him fall; Adam knew that.

"Agent Mitchell Saunders," the man said and extended a hand to Adam. "Department of Justice, federal witness protection. And this is Agent Orin Webb." Both Saunders and Webb were older than Adam, and wore authority like a second skin, but it was Saunders who did the talking. Webb just watched.

"It's good to see you're okay. When you fell off the radar in Wyoming… well, we knew you'd be safe when we found out you were here." He trailed off and allowed everyone to fill in the blanks.

Adam didn't like to ask why he'd fallen off the radar or why the FBI hadn't found him since then. He just listened. Something about these men was making him uneasy, but he couldn't pin down what it was. Saunders's attitude bordered on arrogant, his words were clipped, as if Adam didn't have to worry about anything now that the DOJ had him back.

"He's not going back into witness protection," Ethan said. His tone brooked no argument, and Adam realized he'd tuned out of the conversation.

"He doesn't have to, but he is potentially in danger," Webb said; this was the first time he'd said anything at all. Saunders shot him a quick glance that had him closing his mouth.

"I'll look after him," Ethan snapped. "He's not going away again."

Saunders held up a hand and shook his head. A condescending tone injected in his voice. "I see. I can't say that is a good decision for a police officer to make. To put this man in danger is a step too far even for an experienced lawman."

"He's safe with me," Ethan insisted.

"You think no one knows where he is? We've known for a few weeks now."

"And you didn't think to come and talk to him? Tell him what the hell is going on?"

"That wasn't protocol."

"What about Justin? Do you know where he is?"

"Information on that is classified."

"Is he dead?" Ethan snapped. "Just tell us."

"I don't have that information," Saunders said.

"Would you tell us if you knew?" Ethan shouted. This was getting out of hand.

"Not if it isn't in the best interests of this country," Webb interjected.

Saunders sent him a look that said, Shut the fuck up .

"Tell me where my brother is? If he's alive or dead."

"We. Don't. Know." Saunders said, very deliberately.

"You fuckers."

Ryan cleared his throat, probably to break up the tension between Ethan and Saunders. "I believe it's Adam's decision as to whether he goes anywhere with you. Adam?"

And now it was Adam's turned to get angry. "I don't even know what I'm hiding from, for God's sake! Explain it to me."

"The file is closed—" Saunders began.

"Fuck that," Ethan cursed. "Tell the man what he needs to know."

Saunders and Webb exchanged another look heavy with meaning. Adam may have lost his memory, but he wasn't stupid. They were hiding something.

"Adam was witness to a series of murders, most of which he will have to remember on his own terms. I'm sorry. I wish I could explain it all." Adam didn't think he looked sorry, just smug and entitled. "Three people have died since the man Adam helped put away was released from prison. The man at the center of this was found and killed in a shootout, and the FBI consider the main urgency has passed, but we still need to keep Adam from the reaches of that man's associates. We are convinced that finding Adam was the main objective behind these murders."

Adam groaned. People had died, and it was his fault?

"Jesus," Ethan said with heat. "You can't go around laying that kind of thing on someone."

"You asked, Officer Allens. I won't whitewash it. He can come with me and we will set him up in a safe house until such time that any and all associates are found."

"Okay, you've had your say," Ethan said. He turned to Adam. "The man you put away is dead and the FBI have no real idea of any further danger. Stay here with us, and we'll look out for you—Ryan and I." He looked at Ryan, who, with a serious expression, nodded his agreement to that idea.

Saunders stepped forward, even reached for Adam, who shrank away from him. "I'd rather he came in with me?—"

"Adam is staying here," Ethan said. "Aren't you Adam?"

"Yes, I'm staying." Adam didn't really have to think it through. As long as he wasn't putting people in danger, then he wanted to stay here, in his home, with friends and family.

Saunders nodded and didn't argue anymore. He slid a card over to Adam, but Adam didn't take it there and then. Something was wrong.

Adam! Run!

Adam reached for Ethan's hand and held it tight. Ethan's touch grounded him.

Saunders and Webb departed, Ryan not long after, and Adam and Ethan left the office and went back up to the house. Only when they were inside did Adam let everything out.

"I don't trust them, Saunders especially, I don't know why, but all I can see in my head is him shouting at me and then being nice to me, and I don't get it."

Ethan pulled him close. "We'll figure it out," he whispered. "It will all be okay. You'll stay here and remember everything."

"I want to remember Justin," Adam said.

"Yeah, well, let's say for now I'll remember him for both of us, okay?"

Adam didn't really have much choice in that, but with recollections and feelings twining to piece together a reliable narrative, surely it wouldn't be long before he recalled what had happened to Justin.

He hoped so.