don’t know what you think you’re doing—” She looked pointedly at his hand around her wrist. “Whatever it is, stop it,” she demanded. “And let go of my arm. Now, please.”
For long seconds he simply stared at her as an array of expressions crossed his face. First confusion, then, when he glanced down at his hand wrapped around her wrist, he paled and confusion changed to shock.
“Oh, God,” he whispered, immediately releasing her. Propping both elbows on the table, he dropped his head forward, and supporting his head with the heels of his hands, he squeezed his eyes closed. “Sorry.” He slowly shook his head from side to side. “I didn’t mean to—it’s just that—” He dropped his hands and looked up at her, his eyes reflecting his genuine remorse. “Everything’s so damn confusing. I don’t know what to think, who to trust, how to act.”
Leah was still wary, but her heart ached for him as she watched him struggle for composure. “It’s okay,” she told him gently. “I guess I’m a bit jumpy, too. It’s not every day that a long-lost friend shows up on my doorstep. In hospital scrubs, knowing my name.” Though she was serious about being jumpy, the last was said in an effort to relieve the tension, an effort that fell flat if his expression was any gauge.
He shook his head. “No—you don’t understand. I need some answers.”
“Well, of course you do,” she said.
At her placating tone, warning bells went off in Hunter’s head, and he threw her a wary look.
“Considering your condition it’s only natural that you want answers,” she continued.
Her tone and expression were full of what seemed like genuine concern, but beneath it all, he sensed fear as well. Was she simply telling him what she thought he wanted to hear? Was the concern reflected in her eyes real or fake?
“Yeah, I want answers,” he finally agreed. “But there’s more to it than just the amnesia.” The not knowing about his past was driving him crazy, and while it was true that he needed answers, even worse than not knowing about himself was the issue of not knowing who to trust. Once again he had to ask himself if he could trust her.
Hunter stared deep into her eyes as if doing so would tell him whether she was trustworthy. He wanted to trust her, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him.
At some point, you have to trust someone. Either that or end up running for the rest of your life.
There was no way he could keep running and, to give her credit, so far she’d done nothing suspicious, nothing but try to help…the food, the clothes…
Hunter swallowed hard. “You know that hospital I told you about?”
Leah nodded.
“They didn’t just release me. I was being held there against my will, and I had to escape.”
Leah backed away from him. First the amnesia, and now he was delusional as well, unless… It had been her experience that the only people they locked up in hospitals were mental patients.
Stay calm. Don’t panic. She forced a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure it seemed like that to you, but—”
His eyes suddenly blazed with fury. “Not just seemed, dammit!” He slammed his fist against the top of the table so hard the dishes rattled. “I’m telling you that I was being kept a prisoner.”
Leah threw up her hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay.” She forced calmness in her voice that she didn’t feel. “Just take it easy.”
Hunter sighed heavily. “Sorry.” His face was bleak with regret. “I did it again, didn’t I?”
Leah’s tensed muscles relaxed somewhat and she felt her professional instincts kick in. In an even, soothing voice, she said, “Maybe if you talk about it, I might understand better. Why don’t you tell me about it—about your stay at the hospital—and the reasons you think you were being held prisoner.”
After a moment, he finally nodded.
Keeping an eagle eye on Hunter, Leah sidestepped over to the cabinet. “Just let me get something to drink.” Without waiting for a response, she poured a glass of apple juice, then seated herself across the table from him. She motioned toward his plate. “Your food’s getting cold. Eat first. Then talk.”
When something that resembled a grin tugged at the corners of his lips, Leah relaxed even more.
“Yes, ma’am,” he drawled and gave her a two-fingered salute. “Aren’t you eating, too?”
Leah shook her head. “I ate earlier,” she lied. Truth was, she was far too nervous and her emotions in too much chaos to eat, even if she wanted to.
Before Leah had finished even half her juice, Hunter had polished off every bite of food on his plate.
“That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time,” he told her. “From the bottom of my heart and my stomach, thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” she responded with a smile. “When was the last time you ate?”
“That obvious, huh?” But instead of answering her question, Hunter shoved the plate aside and wrapped his hands around his coffee cup. “Please understand that I’m just trying to figure things out, trying to understand what happened to me and why.”
Leah nodded and in spite of her earlier apprehension, sympathy welled up inside her. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
For several seconds he stared at her, then, as if he’d come to some kind of decision, he began. “When I came out of the coma, I was placed in rehab. My right leg had been badly broken in the accident, and it was almost six weeks before I could walk again without assistance.”
He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Once I could walk,” he continued, “I was placed in a private room. I was still pretty weak, and at first, I didn’t think about it too much. I mean a John Doe, a charity case, being placed in a private room,” he clarified. “I was just grateful that I didn’t have to share the room with anyone else.” He frowned. “Later, I realized that I was never allowed to go anywhere outside of my room without an orderly accompanying me.
“Anyway—” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “As I felt stronger, I began to feel antsy. I was ready to get out of there so I could find out who I was—find out about my life. But each time I asked the doctor about being discharged, he always came up with an excuse as to why I wasn’t ready. Well, I got enough of that real fast and decided to simply leave.
“Since all I had to wear was a hospital gown, I talked an orderly into getting me some scrubs, and—” Hunter shook his head. “A lot of good that did me. I only got as far as the hospital exit door before they caught me. Before I knew what hit me, one of the nurses popped me with a shot and the lights went out. When I woke up, I was back in my bed with restraints on my wrists and ankles. The scrubs were gone, and I was in a hospital gown again.”
Unbidden outrage and anger at the treatment that he’d received welled within Leah. “Didn’t anyone bother trying to explain?”
Hunter shook his head. “No matter how many times I asked,
