It’s the opposite. I’m not dangerous. Not to Autumn. Ever.
“Don’t!” Autumn gasps, and she wraps her hands around my upper arm. “He’s fine. I’m fine. We’re both fine.” Gulping, she adds, “We’re gonna go now. Thank you so much for your services.”
With a yap she pushes me out into the hallway and drags a deep breath. Looking exhausted, she slumps against my chest and wraps her arms around me. “You’re a mad man,” she whispers, rubbing her face against me and my body goes numb from the brutal wave of lust. “But you’re my mad man.”
I bury my face in her hair. The softness tickles my nose and I inhale her. She’s everything that’s good and decent in this world and I’m not letting go of that.
When she murmurs something, I ask, “What did you say?”
“Nothing,” she whispers but in my ears it sounded likeI’m going to miss you.
CHAPTER SIX
Autumn
Walking down the hallway with John, I glance up at him and I can only imagine what I must look like. Probably lovesick and starry eyed and I clutch his hand harder. When he screamed my name the way he did in the shrink’s office, I almost passed out.
His emotions for me run deep which means I’m nestled. Entangled. Once as a child, I accidentally fell into cold, dark waters and I still remember the way the seagrass curled around my legs, holding onto me as if it didn’t plan on letting go. At first I panicked but then it began feeling soothing.Soft. And I missed the dark depth once at the surface again.
That’s how I feel about John.
Leaving him will probably be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. And John...he’ll see it as a betrayal. A huge sign of disloyalty and maybe he won’t ever forgive me. Maybe, I won’t even forgive myself. We have something real that’s beyond his delusion about me being his wife. We have something worth fighting for but I’m not a fighter. I’m a girl who’s not even supposed to be here and John...well, I have no idea who he is but I’m suspecting it’s not something good.
Those tattoos of his are menacing to say the least.
You don’t get that kind of ink as a first class citizen.
My heart clenches at the thought of John being in some kind of trouble and I swallow, nudging closer to John when I in my periphery see a large and brutal looking figure, rising from a chair. He’s got his shoulder in a casket and his eyes flash at the sight of John. I don’t like him. Don’t like the way he looks or the way he looks at John.
The man scares me and my pulse races when he shouts,
“Jair!”
John doesn’t notice and the hallway’s crowded. I flood with anxiety and urge John to go left, murmuring that I want to show him something. My little trick works because John follows and I throw a stressed look over my shoulder. The stranger isn’t coming after us so that’s good. Frowning, I take a deep breath and shrug myself but I keep getting these pesky thoughts in the back of my head.
Jair? Is that John’s real name? If so then how come he knows someone like that stranger? The stranger was wearing a coat, similar to the one John wore when he fell into that ravine. And they’re both tall and brutal looking, almost like they’re part of a gang. That would explain the tattoos.
Oh heck...I don’t like this at all. I don’t want John to be some gangbanger. That lifestyle’s dangerous and maybe this whole amnesia thing is a blessing. What if John was forced into that life and was quietly begging for a way out? Convinced that that’s the case, I decide that John is so much safer incognito at this hospital and I intend to do everything I can to keep John away from that stranger.
They’re not crossing paths. Not on my watch.
“What is that you wanted to show me?” John rasps, bringing me back to the present and I twitch.
“Oh um...,” I think frantically, “over here.” We end up over at the nursery and I can’t help but smile at all the swaddled munchkins. “I come here sometimes,” I confess. “After a long day and they always manage to put a smile on my face.”
Putting my hands under my chin, I whisper, “Aren’t they adorable?”
John grunts. “They look like loafs of bread wrapped up in blankets. Or tiny old men and women.”
Scowling, I swat his arm. “You love them, admit it?”
He shrugs. “Not really.” Then he turns serious and his voice lowers a couple of octaves. “But I’ll love our babe when you bring them into this world.” He lets out a low moan. “I can’t wait to be a father.”
Noticing that I’ve tensed, he looks down at me and frowns, waiting for an explanation for my reaction.
Gulping, I whisper, “I’m not having your baby, John.”
Something possessive and feral flashes in his eyes that makes me gasp and he growls in a low voice. “That’s not up for you to decide. I drenched your womb, sweet cheeks. Your body’s probably already working overtime to create my offspring.”