Recovered secrets, p.19
Recovered Secrets, page 19
“You don’t have to go alone.”
Grace looked into Hollis’s eyes. “You’d go with me?”
He cupped her tender face with his uninjured hand. “I’d go anywhere with you, Grace. On or off the grid. I love you. Nothing could make me not love you.”
Grace’s heart swelled. The same kind of love God loved her with. The kind that couldn’t separate them. “I love you too, Hollis. You’re my favorite.”
“You were mine first.” He dipped his head and lightly kissed her. They both had split lips and bruised faces. But she felt the unconditional love all the way to her toes.
* * *
Hollis paced the lobby waiting on Grace to finish with her hearing at Langley. The day after she regained her memory, the rain stopped. The sun came out. And the people of Cottonwood went to work salvaging their town.
He and Grace had been so overwhelmingly busy helping that they hadn’t had much time to talk about their future. Though they had taken the time to update Wilder and the McKnights.
Now, Hollis couldn’t deny feeling apprehensive. Grace might want to return to the agency. If she asked Hollis to come with her, he would. He meant it when he said he’d go anywhere with her. But missions could put her on the road and out of pocket for weeks or even months. He was willing to brave it to be with her.
So much so that one evening after they’d returned to their hotel rooms exhausted, he’d slipped out and purchased a spectacular ring. A round solitaire with diamonds encircling it, set in white gold. He was waiting for the right time.
The elevator door opened and Grace stepped off, knocking the breath from his lungs. Dressed in a black pants suit, hair up in a bun. Her bruises were fading and her lip was almost healed. She beamed.
“I’m going to go with—that went well.” Hollis hugged her, kissed her on the forehead.
“I told them everything. Agent Foyles—I believe you call him Crewcut—confirmed what I said. But he told a slightly different story. The one Clive manipulated him with. He was the sniper that killed Noel, and he and two other agents who have been brought in confirmed they came after us at the safe house and Foyles also killed Judith Ryland at Clive’s command. Another agent killed Deputy Jordan, who was guarding Patsy. I believed him. And Siobhan—she was there. She admitted to murdering Hector’s two men, and they were confirmed to be part of his cartel, not mercenaries. Siobhan had lied about knowing it was operatives at the safe house, but she’d been instructed what to say, so I can’t fault her for it. With Clive, you didn’t question—you just followed orders and trusted him. It was self-defense so she won’t be tried for murder. They both thought I’d turned traitorous thanks to Clive, even though Siobhan said she’d had doubts. You don’t break Clive’s commands, though. I’m cleared.”
Relief lifted a weight from Hollis’s shoulders.
“And I was asked to take Clive’s position. Quite a prestigious one.” She smiled.
“Do you want to? Don’t let me hold you back. I’d move, Grace.”
Grace embraced him and rested her head against his chest. “I know. I love you for it. But no, I don’t want this world anymore.” She pulled her head back and peered into his eyes. “I want to live in Cottonwood. But there is one thing I need to do. I’ve been thinking.”
“Uh-oh,” Hollis teased and she gave him that thousand-watt smile. “The last thought you had was to jump off a moving boat onto a helicopter.”
“True. You loved it.”
“I’d have loved it more if you weren’t in the line of fire.” He kissed her nose. “So, what are you thinking?”
“I’ve lived in a lot of places. I’ve had a lot of names. But I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as when I’ve been Grace. When we leave here, I’m changing my name. I don’t want to be Lucy Newark, Valentina Sanchez or even Mad Max.”
“That one was growing on me.” Hollis chuckled. She was keeping the name he’d given her before she ever even woke from the coma.
“Ha. Ha. Grace Thackery sounds pretty good, right?”
“Almost.” Seemed like now was the right time. Where her past, present and future collided. “I love Grace. Thackery...” He turned his nose up and dropped to his knee as he pulled the ring box from his pocket. “How about Grace Montgomery? Would you marry me, Grace? I promise to love you and cherish you and sometimes jump from moving boats with you or shoot leaves hundreds of yards away.” He laughed. “I just wanna be with you the rest of our lives.” He opened the box and she went slack-jawed.
“Yes!”
Hollis placed the ring on her finger and stood. “I’m going to kiss you now and no matter how many times you might get amnesia...you aren’t going to forget this.” He claimed her lips and kissed her in a way a woman who knew she belonged to a man ought to be kissed.
Thoroughly.
Tenderly.
Passionately.
Breathlessly.
When he broke the kiss, she kept her eyes closed and smiled. “I can live with that the rest of my life.”
“Grace?”
A woman with blond hair in a red business suit stood nearby.
“Siobhan,” Grace said.
“I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation... Congratulations. I want to tell you how sorry I am.”
Grace held up her hand. “No need. Clive manipulated us all. I would have done the same thing.”
“He did. And...I need to make amends. So...” She pointed a few feet away.
A woman who seemed familiar stood with tears in her eyes.
Grace squinted and then slowly shook her head. “No...no, that can’t be...”
“It’s me, baby. It’s Mom.”
The woman was familiar because she looked like Grace. Older than in the picture Wheezer had emailed them.
“Mom! I—You—What?” Grace sobbed and her knees buckled. Her mother fell on her, weeping with her. “Is it really you? How?”
“We were drugged on our flight. I barely remember the pilot strapping me to him before jumping from the plane. When I woke, I was in a glass prison. Your dad—he’s gone. Clive promised to keep you unharmed if I worked for him.”
“It’s true,” Siobhan said. “I knew about the research labs. Clive said they were traitors, criminals and instead of prison the government gave them the choice to help in the bioweapons war on terrorism in a covert lab. I believed him. I had no idea they were imprisoned. I had no idea she was your mom. I’d never actually visited the facility. Only Clive had access.”
Lucinda Newark held Grace tightly. “I didn’t even know you were an agent. He refused to give me any information on you. I wanted a good life for you. And I just got to overhear the sweetest conversation and proposal. Siobhan filled me in on the other things.”
Grace stood stunned, but her eyes were lit with joy. Strength. Hope. “Mom, meet Hollister Montgomery. My fiancé. The man of my dreams and my rescuer.”
“It’s an honor to meet you.” He hugged her and thanked God for such gifts.
“And you.” She looked at Grace, drinking her in. “You are beautiful.” She glanced at her necklace. “You have this! It was going to be a gift from your father on your eighteenth birthday.”
“Clive gave it to me—said it was from Dad. I figured it was like a locket but not actually a locket since it won’t open. I couldn’t bring myself to have it broken or smashed to retrieve what might or might not have been inside.”
Lucinda chuckled. “He was a spy through and through. May I?” She unclasped it from Grace’s neck and held it out. Slowly she turned the top clasp to the left...right...left. “There’s a little tiny arrow and you can feel the clicks if you can’t see it...” The locket popped open. Deep enough to hide a key in, but no key. Only pictures on one side of Grace and her father and the other side was a family photo.
“I remember taking this. I was sixteen.” Grace studied the photos. “All this time, you and Dad have been with me. And a piece of his job too. My job. Former job.” She wiped a tear. “He loved me.”
“Oh, he did. Doted on you. But as you know, the job keeps you moving and keeps you secretive. Often takes you away.”
Grace nodded and ran her finger over the photos, then she looked at Hollis. “I’m never going away from you. Or our family.” She held up her hand. The diamond sparkled. “You sealed the deal. No take backs.”
A family with Grace. “I wouldn’t dare. I’ve seen you with a gun...and a knife...” They walked toward the door, leaving Langley. “And I’ve seen your fists...seen you squeeze a grown man’s neck...”
“All right, Hollister. You made your point. Some days I wish I had amnesia,” she teased. “Actually, I wish you did.”
As they made their way to the street, Hollis pulled her to him. “Grace, I could never forget you. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because you aren’t only in my mind.” He placed her hand with the engagement ring on his chest. “You’re in my heart.”
Hollis never expected to find a woman left for dead on the muddy banks. Never dreamed this moment would come through some of the darkest nights and deepest floods. But here they were and they hadn’t drowned. They’d swum their way out with a whole lot of love and mercy.
And grace.
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Fatal Memories by Tanya Stowe.
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Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed this story. I loved writing it. I’ve always been a big fan of spy movies and novels. What better way to explore amnesia than using a spy who did some things that blurred and even crossed moral lines. But that was Grace’s past. Maybe it’s your past too. But it’s not who you are anymore. In Christ, you are free. You get a clean slate. You get to be a new creation, making new and better choices. No longer are you a slave to sin. And you are forgiven. Completely. Thoroughly. Utterly. No more shame. No more guilt. That’s the beauty of salvation. Of mercy. Of forgiveness. Grace finally realized that, and it gave her the liberty to pursue her dream—to love Hollis fully. I pray that if you are battling the same feelings as Grace, you’ll take comfort from this story. Cling to truth, and walk in freedom, friend. It’s yours.
I love to hear from readers! Please drop me a line and visit me at www.jessicarpatch.com.
Warmly,
Jessica
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Fatal Memories
by Tanya Stowe
ONE
Crawl! The woman woke slowly.
Wake up and crawl!
She tried to move, tried to obey the thought that was so insistent, almost desperate. She lifted her head half an inch off the ground. Viselike pain gripped her temples and she groaned out loud. She froze, trying to ease the agony, but it didn’t go away. Now it pierced like sharp blades...her eyes, her temples, the back of her head.
It hurt so much, she collapsed...breathed in dust and grit. She coughed. The pain split her head in two and she cried out again.
Where was she? Why was she on the ground?
Crawl! Crawl away or you’ll die!
That’s right. The tunnel. She had to get out. Now.
Unable to lift her head without piercing agony, she slid one leg upwards and pushed her body along the ground. The grit scraped her cheek as she moved. No matter. She had to get away.
Raising one hand, she pulled herself a little farther. After a moment she was able to coordinate her hands with her legs. She pushed and pulled herself inch by inch, through the tunnel. Her head throbbed with blinding agony. Her cheek burned and still she crawled forward, driven by fear of what lay behind her. She had to get away.
She dared to look up. Pain shot through her head. Light. Light just ahead!
A click echoed behind her.
Too late! An explosion rocked the darkness. The shock wave slammed her head onto the gritty ground and she slipped into darkness again.
* * *
The headache returned. Or maybe it had never left. She couldn’t remember. It pierced her head like an ax...right between the eyes. And the spinning. She might be awake, but the world was moving around and around, even with her eyes closed. Her body ached from head to toe. Something was pumping cool air through her nose. The rest of her body felt hot, stiff. Impossible to move. Afraid to open her eyes, she held perfectly still, waiting...hoping the world would stop shifting around her.
Wait...someone was singing. Soft, low, smooth as velvet. Beautiful. What was the song? An old hymn. She heard “saved a wretch like me.”
Strong and firm, that voice. Low but not too low. Comfortable. A bit familiar but she couldn’t quite give it a face. Couldn’t remember the name. Who was it?
She tried to speak, but all that came out was a groan. The singing stopped.
Someone grasped her hand. “Joss? Can you hear me, Joss?”
Joss? The name felt reassuring. She tried to lick her lips, but her mouth was so dry, her tongue stuck. Something cool, a dripping, welcome moisture, ran over her lips. Liquid slipped in, onto her tongue, easing the tight, dry feeling.
“More.”
“Here you go.” The voice without a face swabbed her lips again. The moisture eased the stickiness. Made it easier to talk.
“Hurts.”
“What hurts, Joss?”
“My head.”
“That’s because you have a concussion. A pretty serious one. You’re in the hospital.”
A hospital. She wasn’t in danger anymore. Someone was taking care of her. Maybe the man with the gentle, kind...safe voice. She wanted to curl into the safety of that strong voice and sleep. If only she could put a face to it. Maybe if she opened her eyes...
Her lids felt as dry as her lips. Like sandpaper. And the glimmer of light caused the ax to sink deeper into her skull. She squeezed her eyes shut again.
“Go easy, Joss. There’s no hurry.” But his tone held a thread of something that said there was. Impatience? Frustration or worry? What was it?
She opened her eyes again, just a slit. The light didn’t hurt as much this time. Didn’t create the blinding pain. She waited a moment, then opened them all the way. His face was above her. Curly brown hair, a bit long. The shadow of a dark beard. He needed a shave. A slightly Roman nose. Not prominent. Just strong. A hooded brow over hazel eyes, more green than brown. His eyes almost matched the color of the collared sweater he wore. A slight frown creased his forehead.
Worry. Definitely worry she’d heard in his voice. Worry for her. That was a nice thought. As she studied him, the frown eased and he smiled. “It’s good to see you back.”
Back. Where had she been?
She licked her lips. “What happened?”
“There was a cave-in. You were trapped in the tunnel.”
“A tunnel? What was I doing in a tunnel?”
The frown returned. “I was hoping you could tell me.”
She tried to shake her head but it hurt. Instead she closed her eyes and tried to think. To picture a tunnel. But all she could see was the gray mist behind her closed eyes. “I—I don’t remember a tunnel...or a cave-in.”
She heard him inhale slowly. “That’s all right. It’s normal not to remember the details of an accident. It’s the brain’s way of healing.”
Normal. This didn’t feel normal. It felt empty. Scary. There was nothing beyond the gray mist. Nothing. Not even a memory of the handsome face at her bedside.
“Who...are...you?”
His features went slack with surprise before he gathered himself. “I’m Dylan. Dylan Murphy. We met about a month ago, when I came here from DC.”
She swallowed hard. Nothing he said pierced the fog in her brain. “Where is here?”
“Tucson. We’re in Tucson.”
He didn’t attempt to hide his concern now. He stared at her.
Panic built inside her. Her gaze shot around the room, trying to find something familiar, something she knew. Nothing rang a bell. It all seemed strange and foreign.
Dylan gripped her hand. “Stay calm, Joss. It’s all right.”
She shook her head in spite of the pain. “It’s not all right. Nothing’s right. I can’t remember an accident or anything about Tucson. I don’t know who you are. You called me Joss, but I don’t know my last name.” Her head pounded with renewed force, so she squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t remember anything!”
Hot tears leaked out from her tightly squeezed eyes and ran down her face. A soft finger wiped the tears off her cheek, and his voice pierced through the pounding inside her head. “It’s all right, Joss. I’m here. I remember, and I won’t leave until you do too.”
