Fractured Memory. Jordyn Redwood
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realized Eli had entered her room again until he sat on the bed next to her, and the movement tilted her body into his side.
He brought his arm up around her shoulder. “I’m going to get you through this, Julia. I promise. I’ll take care of your grandfather. Nothing will happen to him.”
And somehow she felt it wasn’t the first time he said those words.
* * *
It always surprised Eli how nondescript safe houses looked. This one was a town house in a middle class neighborhood. He parked in the driveway and got out. Julia didn’t immediately follow him.
Best to give her some time to absorb her surroundings.
He went around to the trunk and removed her two suitcases. As he rounded the car to the passenger side, she ventured out, edging her car door closed. He motioned her to follow him up the porch steps. At the door was a key code lock. He punched in a few numbers and entered, holding the door open for her.
“We change the code at the beginning of every week,” he said. “We feel it’s more secure than having a key floating around.” Directly ahead was a staircase. “The only thing down here is the garage entrance and the utility closet. Everything else is upstairs.”
Eli waited for her to climb the steps. Cautiously, she stepped as deliberately as a cub exploring beyond his mother’s boundaries. At the top, he motioned to the left. She took the lead and opened the door. He scooted in behind her and rested the suitcases at the bottom of the bed.
“There are cameras in every room but the bathroom.” He pointed out the one in the corner. “We’ll generally leave you alone, monitoring you through the cameras. I’m going to give you this.” He pulled a balled chain from his pocket that held a white square with a prominent red button.
“My grandfather wears one of these.”
He held it up, and she dutifully bent her head forward as he laid the chain over the turtleneck. A soft tendril of her hair slid over his fingers, stirring a warm memory. Eli forced himself to stay on task. This woman’s safety was the only priority. “It’s essentially the same thing. I’ll let you decide if you want to wear it under your shirt or not.”
She clasped her fingers around it. “I press it and you’re here at my whim?”
Her smile was timid but unexpected heat surged through his chest. “Within minutes, someone will be here. Preferably me.”
“How does this work?”
“You’ll be monitored twenty-four-seven by a team of agents. We don’t want to be obvious to the neighbors, but their response time is a couple of minutes if they see anything concerning or you feel like something is out of place.”
“I should unpack?”
“Do what feels comfortable to you. We don’t want you to feel like a prisoner.” He handed her a sheet of paper. “This is the phone number for the agents who are monitoring you when I’m not here. This number won’t change, so I suggest you memorize it. If you want to go anywhere, they’ll take you.”
She took the slip of paper from his hand. “You’re not staying today?”
Relief swept through him. Was it possible that she saw something in him she remembered? Or was it just merely that he’d been there to save her life this morning?
“I’m going to leave you with Ben tonight as I follow up on forensic items from the hit package, and I’m going to pay a visit to your grandfather. I had a few grocery items placed in the kitchen that should get you by until tomorrow.”
“Thanks for everything you’re doing, Eli.”
“I’ve upended your life. I’ll try to make the transition as easy as possible. There are a few things I want to go over with you, since this hit man seems to prefer bullets.” Eli leaned against the dresser. “If we’re in a car getting shot at, I need you to get as low as you can.”
“Wouldn’t that be natural instinct?”
Eli smiled. “You would think so until it actually happens to you. People tend to freeze in a crisis, but your emergency nursing background probably won’t allow that happen. You’re trained to work through that—to fight instead of run.”
“One thing in our favor.”
“Julia...” His voice trailed, his eyes distant. “If you’re ever taken hostage, the best thing is for you to work with us to try and get free. Try to keep the assailant’s head in clear view.”
For a kill shot.
“Do something. Anything. Drop your weight unexpectedly, but whatever you decide, just give me a warning before you do.”
“Like what?” Julia asked.
“We’ll keep the words red daisies as a code. For just you and me—okay?”
“You think someone could actually get in here?”
He shook his head. “It’s unlikely, but we try and plan for all contingencies.”
“I’ll see you—”
“In the morning. What time are you usually up?”
“I work day shift, so I’m used to being up by five thirty.”
“I won’t wake you before then.”
He turned to leave, trying to squash the thought of taking Ben’s place over the next few hours. If he didn’t solve the mystery of the hit package, Julia Galloway would never be safe.
* * *
Julia began to unpack her clothes into the plain, unvarnished pine dresser that sat in the corner.
How many other people placed their belongings here? Did all of them live through their experience? When she pulled the drawer open, pen-gouged letters in the bottom of the top drawer read...
I was here. Kristin.
Worry. That was what this statement meant to Julia. This person wanted something permanent to mark her existence. A note that someone would read to imprint the memory of her in their mind.
How frail human existence was. Another lesson from the medical trenches.
I will remember you, Kristin. Who will remember me?
Loneliness overwhelmed her. An ever-present ache in her chest that was hard to stymie. Her fingers trailed over the front of her Bible. The words inside were the only reminder that she was never truly alone.
Hugging herself, she knew she wanted more. Physical contact with someone who loved her. God meant people to be in relationship with one another.
Her life...her history...meant isolation.
Nothing could change what she’d already lived through, but neither did she feel it was good for things to remain the same. It had felt unexpectedly natural to be in Eli’s arms—she wanted to have that feeling again.
Julia had decided to pack a week’s worth of items and wash them if her exile extended beyond that. Five pairs of jeans. Ten pairs of socks. Some items it was best to have extra of in case the worst happened.
That was another lesson of the ER—always prepare for the worst-case scenario.
Next came the stack of short-sleeve shirts. Long-sleeve shirts. Plenty of scarves. Three pairs of pajamas.
Her gun sat at the very bottom. Julia glanced around the bedroom, trying to find the best place for it. She tucked it underneath the mattress and then stowed the suitcases in the bottom of the closet.
After everything had a proper place, she ventured into the kitchen. Ben sat at the two-seat kitchen table, his laptop open in front of him. He seemed lost in thought—his gaze drawn to the view of the children’s play equipment that backed up to the town house, a small park for families that lived close by.
Children