“You’re cold.” Tom eyed the room and put an arm around her shoulder as he focused on Malloy. “Is she free to leave?”

“Has Detective Connelly finished with your statement?” Malloy asked.

“Statement?” Josie squinted her eyes up at Tom.

“Yes.” Tom smoothed a hair off her face. “I came to get you, and they asked me some questions. Where I’ve been the last few days, how long I’ve known you, if I have a camera.” He grinned ruefully at the final query.

Josie rounded on the cop, her breath heating. “You questioned my friend?”

Tom tugged her purse strap up her arm. “I assume it’s normal, and I had no problem answering the questions. Let’s help the police figure this out.”

Malloy nodded. “We’d appreciate that.”

Tom led her to the exit. “Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

Safe? Safety was an illusion. She eyed Tom’s tousled hair and straight features. So different from Shane’s rugged ones. She shivered and Tom tightened his hold.

“I can put you somewhere safe, Mrs. Dean,” Detective Malloy said.

“You should let the police help.” Tom rubbed her shoulder.

“I’m not hiding.” Her voice trembled and she straightened her posture. She deserved answers, and she’d get them. Besides, something deep down whispered that the police couldn’t hide her from Shane. He had skills none of them had realized. So she needed to be ready when he showed up again. And she needed to warn Tom.

Malloy nodded. “I have your contact information, Mrs. Dean. We’ll be in touch.”

They hurried out of the station. The fall sunshine failed to warm her face as Tom hustled her toward his battered truck. A scratched tool box stretched across the front of the bed, holding all of the tools Tom had brought from Texas.

The hair on the back of her neck rose. Her body instinctively stilled. She glanced around the parking lot. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. No eyes on her. But she jumped into the front seat and leaned against the clean material with a sigh.

Tom loped around the front, stepped inside, and started the engine to pull away from the station. “So. What a mess, huh?” His dimples flashed.

Josie shook her head. Leave it to Tom to try and cheer her up. “You could say that.”

“How about we drive somewhere safe? Anywhere you want to go.” Tom aimed them at the interstate toward his home outside of town.

“I’m tempted, but can’t. You know I have that audit all next week.” The books weren’t adding up at work, a fact that should be consuming her. While she’d fixed one account, she had several more to check. Plus, she’d had to start at the bottom of the Washington branch when she’d moved from California. She was a good CPA. No way was she letting Shane Dean screw up her job or her life. Not again. Besides, deep down, she knew he’d find her. No matter what.

They drove in silence for a while. Tom finally took the east exit, winding around the lake toward his home.

“I don’t suppose he signed the divorce papers before you found out Dean was a stalker.” Work-roughened hands tightened on the steering wheel, but Tom’s voice remained steady as he stopped in the driveway and pressed the garage door button.

She huffed out a breath. “That would make life too easy. I’m so sorry.” None of this was fair to him. One day in Shane’s world and she’d almost slept with him. He’d taken her heart three years ago, and she wasn’t getting it back. “I’ve really screwed things up this time.” She had no idea what Shane was up to, why he’d been watching her. But even now part of her hoped for a good explanation. She loved him. “I’m such a fool.”

Tom waited for the automatic garage door to rise. “We’ll figure this out, Josie. I promise.”

His tone was soft and gentle, and she’d heard him use it before while on the phone. She grinned. “You’re using your ‘I’m dealing with my younger sisters’ voice right now.”

He started, his eyes sparkling. “I have a voice with my sisters?”

Oh yeah. As the older brother to what sounded like three wild younger sisters, he had a tone he used. “I’ve listened to you talking to them on the phone. Last month when Sylvia wanted to drop her business major and study ceramic pottery, you really used the voice.”

Tom snorted. “That was crazy. Thank goodness she changed her mind. For now, anyway.”

What would it have been like to grow up with siblings? With people who cared what happened in her life? Josie sighed, her gaze focusing Tom’s half-finished ranch house. A tight tarp covered part of the house as Tom waited for time and money to finish it. Cedar shakes lined the sides of the finished part of the home—a place perfect for a real family. She knew Tom wanted that family. “I don’t know what to do. Nothing seems real.”

Tom pulled the car into the garage and shut off the ignition. He reached for her hand, his larger one warming hers. “Life gets messy, sweetheart.” She glanced up at his smile. “But you’re a very smart woman. I have no doubt you’ll figure this out.”

Relief and gratitude flowed through her until her knees wobbled. Tears pricked her eyes. Tom believed in her. She was smart and tougher than anyone knew. It was time she woke up. A great guy sat in front of her—one who was honest with her. A man who wanted what she needed in life—a stable home and a loving family. Kids. Sometimes her empty arms ached with the need for a baby, when she could keep one safe, that was. “I need to warn you. Shane is dangerous, and he might be coming after you. There were several pictures of you and me in his house.” If Shane hurt Tom, she’d never forgive herself.

Tom eyed her and then nodded. “I know. The police warned me.”

“So I probably shouldn’t be here.” But where could she go?

“This is exactly where you should be.” Tom brushed an errant hair off her cheek. “We’re stronger together, and don’t worry, I can fight.”

Yeah, he’d told her about his boxing for fun days. Josie sighed. “You didn’t see him fight—see him kill. He’s gifted in a bad way.”

Tom nodded and opened his door. “We’ll be safe, Josie. Come on. It’s Saturday night. Let’s have a wild one and watch a movie.” Tom tugged her from the car, enveloping her in a hug. “Life will work out. I promise.”

* * *

Shane jogged around the perimeter, the gun comfortable in his hand. He’d retrieved the nine-millimeter from the bungalow before running. His bungalow, he figured. What had he been doing spying on his own wife? He dodged around a thick spruce. Nice of Marsh to live at the edge of the forest. So many places to hide. If the bastard didn’t take his hands off Josie, the man would die at the edge of the forest. Shane paused. He’d killed before. And not just earlier that day. Was he a killer? Regularly or just for the military? Did it matter? His torso and ribs had already healed, which seemed off. Way too quick.

The forest spread out empty and safe around him. Uncertainty had him pausing. He should run. Just get the hell out of there and leave Josie to rebuild her life. He should go find those brothers he couldn’t remember.

The idea of leaving her, even for the right reasons, tightened his chest until he couldn’t breathe. Memories or not, she was his air. The fact made absolutely no sense, yet he clung to it with a desperation that scared the shit out of him. He couldn’t remember her and had certainly hurt her. Yet he couldn’t leave her again. Was it some weird stalker mentality? Or God, could it be something good? Something right?

Chances weren’t good on that score. But he wasn’t leaving until he figured it out.

He scaled a tree, perching in the top to stare down into Marsh’s sparse living room. The man ate popcorn and watched two movies with Shane’s wife. Shane could hear the television as clearly as if he were sitting in the room. Maybe he should get an MRI and see if there was some sort of implant or device in his head. No way was his hearing normal.

The cutest dimples flashed when Josie laughed at a scene. Her hands worked gracefully with her knitting as she watched the movie. Looked like she was making a scarf.

A warmth heated in Shane’s chest. She’d kicked his ass. A groin shot was an easy one to be expected from a small woman defending herself. But the kick to the head. Well now. That was impressive. No hesitation, no fear. She’d aimed for his temple and nearly knocked him out. Before she ran toward the cop.

Shane had thought about pursuing her, taking on the cop, and retrieving his wife. Too many men had still been in the house. He didn’t need to fight the entire police force. Not yet, anyway.

His gaze wandered over her pale skin and delicate features. His woman. He wondered at the possessiveness. Had he always felt it? Or was it new, flourishing since she was the only link to the life he’d led? The man he was?

As he watched her, he settled on an answer. He’d always felt it. She was his. While his motive remained unclear, he wasn’t going to figure it out while they remained apart. He needed to retrieve her and soon.

The movie ended. Tom and Josie retired to separate bedrooms. Good. Relief he probably didn’t deserve flowed through him. He scouted the area again. Marsh owned an acre surrounded on two sides by expansive federal land. Pine, spruce, and cottonwood trees stood like silent sentinels offering shelter. Wildlife scampered naturally. Any predators close by were solely of the four-legged variety. All was secure. Josie was safe for a while.

Shane turned to lope back through the forest toward the hidden van. He’d traded the vehicle for Josie’s SUV, leaving her car where it would be found. She needed her car.

Now he needed to question the guy at the hospital and then head to Josie’s place and check out the bugs. How many had he planted? Where and why? He hoped he didn’t have to break into the police station to see all the evidence. But if he did, then he would. Somehow he figured he had the skills. Knew he had them, in fact.

He needed to remember. Dark and blank, the interior of his head kept him out. Maybe for his own protection. Not knowing himself was driving him crazy. Why had he been stalking Josie? His fists clenched and unclenched. Who were his brothers? Did he hurt them, too? Did they want anything to do with him, or not? He had to remember his past. Maybe, no matter how bad he’d been, just maybe he could fix everything?

Something told him he wasn’t going to like who he found. Who he was. The thought weighed heavily on him, and bile rose from his stomach.

He slid into the car and drove down the road, trying to force memories into his conscience. Only a blank slate rose to his internal search. A big, black empty hole. Frustration settled like a rock in his gut. Or maybe that was fear. If he couldn’t figure out who he was, how in the world was he going to protect Josie?

If he had brothers, shouldn’t they be looking for him? The name Jory caused something to hurt in his solar plexus. A weight squeezed his lungs.

The lights of the hospital soon came into view, and he scouted the parking lot for the best space in case he needed to make a quick exit. Finding one close to the curb, he parked and jumped out, striding toward the staff door as if he had every right to do so. It was too early to search Josie’s house, so he’d make good use of his time before heading to discover her secrets, and maybe some of his own.

A nurse in green scrubs slid her card through the slider, and he opened the door for her, returning her smile as she walked inside and hurried to a large lounge set to the right.

Two steps inside and the scent of bleach slammed into him. Sparks flashed behind his eyes. He staggered against the wall as memories cut deep. A dim picture of him sitting on a gurney in a dingy hospital room with a man digging something out of his leg. Crumbling concrete made up the walls. Pain had exploded along his shin. A bullet. The man had been digging out a bullet.

Almost in slow motion, the guy rose, smiling. “Got it.”

The man had gray eyes. The exact color of Shane’s eyes.

The strangled gasp Shane made as he returned to the present echoed around the empty room. Jesus Christ. Leaning down, he rubbed a scar along his left leg. Nausea swirled in his gut. His hands shook. Finally, more memories were flooding back. Relief and fear slammed through him. He’d been shot, and his brother had helped him. The first look at his family made his mind spin. But now wasn’t the time.

Damn it. He had a job to do.

The first few steps were more like stumbles, and then he found his stride. Focus. Forget the past images and focus. The voice in his head wasn’t his, yet he trusted it implicitly. He continued down the hallway, pausing in front of a room that housed several dictating machines along with computers.