Chapter 39

Just as Trevorheard the noise behind him, he propelled himself onto the road.

As he did, he grabbed Sadie.

Threw her back.

Away from any flames.

He landed on top of her, his body shielding hers.

Fire claimed the air—but only for a few seconds.

Then there was the scent of smoke.

He lifted his head and glanced over.

The car was still on fire, but the flames shouldn’t reach them now.

He glanced back at Sadie. “Are you okay?”

She stared up at him, appearing dazed. But she nodded. “I’m . . . I’m fine. You?”

He nodded.

“I thought . . . I thought the explosion had gotten you.” Worry saturated her voice.

It was touching, really.

“I’m fine,” he insisted.

He pulled himself off her, checking her over one more time for injuries.

He saw nothing.

Then he glanced at the two men.

Both still lay motionless.

Sirens came closer. Help was on the way.

He thought for certain that one of these men was the guy who’d shot at him outside the restaurant when Trevor had been following Guy.

Hired hands, probably.

“Do you recognize them?” Trevor asked Sadie.

She brushed her jeans off and came to stand beside him. She peered at their faces but shook her head. “No, unfortunately, I don’t.”

That was too bad.

Because these men were bad news, and Trevor needed to figure out who had hired them.

At least these two would be out of the picture for a while.

But Trevor felt certain there were more of these operatives out there just waiting to strike.

* * *

Most of Sadie’s appetite was gone by the time they got to the restaurant.

The police had come as well as paramedics. Both men from the sedan were in critical condition.

She’d seen their faces, and she didn’t recognize either of them.

Neither did Trevor.

But those guys had clearly been trying to silence her. Thank goodness for Trevor’s quick moves.

Trevor’s truck was still a mess, although he’d managed to clean up most of the glass shards. Though it was drivable, he’d said one of his colleagues would secure another vehicle for him—one with a usable windshield.

She grabbed a tortilla chip and dunked it into some freshly made salsa before saying, “Quick thinking back there.”

He nodded, though his gaze still appeared troubled. “Thanks. Good to know some of my training paid off.”

His words had her curious. “What kind of training did you have?”

His gaze darkened, almost as if he didn’t want to answer her question.

Finally, he said, “I was part of an elite group of recruits who went through rigorous training and experiments in order to create what they thought would be the ideal soldier.”

“You mean, like Captain America?” Why did she remember who Captain America was? Again, the mind was such a strange thing.

His gaze was humorless. “More like Jason Bourne.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “I was only joking.”

“I wish it was a joke. Maybe the experiments weren’t exactly like what was portrayed in those novels and movies, but they were rigorous. Our endurance was tested. They injected us with viruses and other toxins so we could build up immunity. We spent endless days learning languages, how to read people. They worked us hard, so we’d always have the upper hand not only physically but emotionally and intellectually as well.”

“I can’t even imagine.” Her mind race as she tried to picture what it had been like.

On one hand, hard things required sacrifice and effort. On the other hand, should human endurance really be tested like that? Should people in those positions be forced to give up everything—even their own free will?

“It wasn’t exactly fun,” Trevor continued. “A lot of what happened, I don’t remember. There are still side effects I deal with. Tremors mostly and the occasional headache or lapse in memory. My colleagues have reported similar experiences.”

“So there are more of you?” Her thoughts continued to race.

“More than a dozen.” He nodded. “Most of us, when we left the military, joined the Shadow Agency. It helped us to be around people who understood us.”

“No one actually left to start a different life, away from those experiments and missions?”

“A couple people left, wanted to forget everything that happened. Sometimes I wonder how they’re doing. The things we went through and experienced were anything but normal.”

“Hopefully, they’re getting some therapy.” Her gaze caught his. “Hopefully, you’ve gotten some therapy.”

“I don’t know about the ones who got out, but the Shadow Agency has someone on staff we can speak with when needed.”

“Most people don’t think they need to talk to anyone. Especially men. At least in my experience.” Sadie paused and shook her head. “Although I’m not sure exactly how I know that either.”

“It’s strange what the brain can recall.”

“Yes, it is.” She dunked another chip into the salsa. “When we were out on dates, did you ever ask me why I came here and started working at the elevator company?”

“I did. You said you’d basically lived a pretty boring life. That you liked numbers and that you saw a job opening and thought Traverse City would be a fun place to live. You said it was great in the summer, but in the winter this area could be challenging with all the snowfall.”

“Did I tell you anything else about myself that might help jog my memory now?”

Before he could answer, their food was delivered, and Trevor asked to say a quick prayer. She agreed, finding a small measure of comfort in the fact he’d wanted to pray. He’d done so before their other meals also.

She instinctively knew that she was a person of faith, and she found reassurance in knowing Trevor was too.

“Can you tell me anything else?” she repeated, not wanting him to forget her question.

He picked up his fork, ready to cut into his beef enchilada. “You were amazing.”

Her heart lifted. “What do you mean?”

“You were funny and engaging. You didn’t want anything fancy. You were happy going to the beach to watch the sunset or to walk in the sand or to eat fresh cherries you picked up at the local farmer’s market.”

“That sounds pretty normal, which doesn’t match with the other images of myself. The ones where I could be working for a crime boss and trying to bring a decent man down.”

His gaze met hers. “A decent man?”

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure. But if I’m trusting my gut, then yes, that’s what my gut is telling me.”

Trevor shifted in his seat, his gaze turning even more serious. “Listen, Sadie, I wanted to tell you from the start that we’d been dating, but Larchmont told me not to. He clearly knew more of your story than I did.”

Sadie shook her head. “I’m sorry it was like that. I really am. I would try to explain myself, but I don’t understand anything either.”

His gaze remained understanding. “Give yourself some time. I’m still hopeful that your memories will return.”

“Before it’s too late.” Her voice cracked as she said the words.

Because she knew that was what Trevor was thinking.

They needed her to remember certain details about her life sooner rather than later.

They couldn’t go on like this forever, and she and Trevor knew that.

At that thought, Sadie picked up her fork and dug into her taco salad.