My eyes burned they were so tired. I had caught up on the Westbrook Securities’ reports Mickey had sent over. Agnes let me know that Journey had eaten a few bites of dinner, but turned most of it away. I didn’t know whether that was caused by a physical lack of appetite or her stubbornness.

I punched the pillow behind my head. Nothing was comfortable. I turned off my tablet and tossed it next to me on the king-size bed.

There were no updates from the police. Nothing from Dante. It was as if we were in a remote part of the world, cut off from all communication. It was much worse than that, though. No information meant the killer was roaming freely and I wasn’t any closer to catching him.

I reached for the switch on the lamp next to the bed when I heard footsteps in the hall. They were fast and heavy. Frantic.

The door to the bedroom flew open just as I reached for my gun.

Journey panted. Her hands gripped her neck. There was a wild look in her eye that was somehow both childlike and feral.

I jumped from the bed and rushed to her. “What happened? Are you ok?” I scanned her body for signs of her incision bleeding.

She waved my hands off her.

“I-I remember pieces of it. I didn’t before, but it just…I had a memory of yesterday. It hit me. Out of nowhere. I-I don’t know what to do.”

I let my palm fall to her lower back and I guided her to the edge of my bed.

“Sit. Take a deep breath.” I walked over to the dresser and poured a glass of water for her. “Here. Take a sip.”

She clasped the glass in her hands and drank. I waited for her to finish.

“What do you remember?” I took the seat next to her, trying to give her space to breathe. The mattress bounced beneath my heavy frame.

Her eyes darted back and forth.

“I don’t know how I could have forgotten. How did I forget something like this? Something like being shot? What is wrong with me?”

“It’s all right. You hit your head pretty hard, and with the combination of drugs for the surgery and sedation to travel, I would expect anyone to have the same reaction.”

“But not you. You remember every horrible thing that happened to you overseas.”

“This isn’t about me right now. We don’t need to dredge that up. Tell me. What do you remember?” I tried to pace my words so she didn’t feel rushed. I didn’t know if it would help to tell her that the memories hadn’t all come home with me in one package. They hit me in spurts. Just like this had happened to her.

Journey began to rattle off her account of the shooting.

“I was leaving the gym with Tristan. It was barely light out. The sun was starting to come up and I teased him about how evil he was for making me work out so early.” She paused, staring at her bare feet. She was wearing a T-shirt that hung off her shoulder. She had raced to my room so quickly she hadn’t added pajama bottoms. I tried to keep my eyes off her thighs.

“He told me it would all be worth it once I started the award circuit. He said, ‘you’ve got this’.” She held her breath. “I was getting ready to tell him as soon as the awards were over we were going to sit on the deck and eat gallons of ice cream together. But that’s when I heard the gun. It didn’t register that that was what the sound was. I know what guns sound like, but not at the gym. Never at the gym—it didn’t fit. I screamed. I think I kept screaming. I’m not sure exactly. I don’t remember what happened next.” Her voice cracked. “I think. Maybe…”

“What is it?”

“I think I remember blood. There was blood on my hands. I was washing my face before I got back in bed and the warm water…” She shuddered. “Oh God.”

“It’s ok. You are ok.” How did I help her? She wouldn’t let me touch her. I couldn’t hold her. I couldn’t lock the door and promise the darkness would never find a way inside.

“Tristan? Did he? Is he ok? Where is Tristan? There was so much blood. I can’t get it out of my head.”

I knew what she was going through. I knew the trauma wouldn’t ease up anytime soon.

“He’s still in the hospital. He jumped in front of the gunman. That’s why the bullet grazed under your arm. I’m also anxious for him to wake up. I need to interview him.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “It went through him?”

I nodded. “It did. But the doctors say his surgery was a success. He’s being watched carefully. I’ll have the first call when he’s awake,” I assured her.

“I want to see him. I need to thank him.” She jumped from the bed. “I have to go to the hospital. He has to know he saved me. He has to know what he did for me. He has to.”

The pain circled my ribs, suffocating me. She was on the verge of hysteria. The shock began to settle in. Her brush with death. The memories of yesterday morning. It was starting to catch up to her.

“You can’t go to the hospital.” I looked at her. “I’ll make some calls and get an update on Tristan for you. But this is the safest place in the world you can be right now. If you go anywhere near that hospital the press will be all over you. You can’t risk it. I won’t allow it.”

“You can’t hold me here against my will, Asher, not when I’m starting to remember. I have to thank Tristan for what he did. You’re not going to stop me.”

“Want to test that theory?” I taunted.

I wasn’t letting her out of my sight. She didn’t need to know I slept in the chair in her room last night. That for twenty-four hours, I hadn’t been more than twenty feet away from her. That I was holstered and ready to shoot at the first sign of danger.

There would be time for that. Her life came before anything else.

“You can’t be serious.” Her eyes flared. “I have my memory back. I don’t need your recovery cabin or whatever you call this place.”

“You’re not leaving.”

She crossed her arms. “And I was almost going to say thank you for the hot shower and soft bed, but I’ve changed my mind.”

I arched my eyebrows.

“You want to thank me for something else instead?”

She groaned. “No. I want to go home.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Then you go with me. You can take your old room. I don’t want you to, but I’ll give you that if you insist on this arrangement.”

“That’s generous of you. But I think I’ve outgrown the security quarters.”

“Oh right. Because you’re a millionaire now.” She rolled her eyes. “This is all insane. You’re not a bodyguard anymore. Why are you acting like one?”

“I’m acting like a man who is putting your life above everything else right now.”

“Why?”

I saw the way her face fell as if a soft shadow had crossed her. She let go of the hostility and aggression.

“Why are you doing this, Ashe?”

“My first answer wasn’t enough?”

“No. I don’t think it is. I want the truth. All of it.”

If only she knew. If only I could tell her. But my confession was a selfish one. I wasn’t going to put that on Journey. Not with everything she still had to face.

“That’s all I have. Are you going to be able to go back to sleep or should I call Agnes?”

She placed her hand on the door. “You’re an asshole. Do you know that? A bastard.”

She slammed the door. I didn’t exhale until I heard her last footsteps disappear into her room.