style="font-size:15px;"> A flash of light glinted from the trees, and Asher squinted. As far as he knew, no roads ran through that part of the property. A new symptom, flashes of light, had probably just been added to his repertoire of strange happenings in his brain.
He rubbed his eyes, and the light flickered again, glinting in the weak winter sunlight. He cranked his head around to survey the buildings behind him. Most of the patients here napped after lunch and the staff took the time to relax. He had the place to himself—as long as his spies were on break.
When the third flash of light made its way out of the dense forest, Asher pushed back from his chair and stretched. Investigating this would take his mind off the jumble in his brain.
He zipped up his jacket and stuffed his hands into his pockets. This felt like a mission and his fingertips buzzed, but he felt stripped bare without his weapon. He wouldn’t need it for what would probably turn out to be something caught on the branches of a tree, but at least he had a mission.
He strode across the rolling lawn, scattered with chairs and chaise lounges, abandoned in the wintry chill of December. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting someone to stop him, although he didn’t know why. He wasn’t a prisoner here. Was he?
Hunching his shoulders, he made a beeline for the forest at the edge of the grass. When he reached the tree line, he tensed his muscles. His instincts, which seemed to have been suppressed by the drugs he got on a regular basis, flared into action.
He stepped onto the thick floor of the wooded area, his boots crunching pine needles. Where had the light gone? It had flashed just once more on his trek across the lawn, like a beacon guiding him.
The rustle of a soft footstep had him jerking to his right, his hand reaching impotently for a gun. “Come out where I can see you.”
A hint of blue appeared amid the unrelenting greens and browns of the forest, and then a head, covered with a hood, popped out from behind the trunk of a tree.
“Asher?”
He swallowed and blinked. Had the docs chased him out here, too?
The figure emerged from behind the tree and the hood fell back. A tumble of golden hair spilled over the woman’s shoulder, and Asher had a strange urge to run his fingers through the silky strands.
“Asher, it’s me.” She held out a hand, keeping one arm around the trunk of the tree and leaning out toward the side as if approaching a wild animal. “It’s Paige. Do you remember?”
Paige? Her voice sounded like cool water tumbling over rocks in a stream. A sharp pain lanced the wound on his head, and he rubbed his fingers along the scar to make it stop.
She hugged the tree with one arm, her other arm stretched out toward him in a yearning gesture that made his heart ache.
“Are you in pain, my love?”
His mouth gaped open. “I-is this a joke?”
Her eye twitched, but her smooth face remained impassive. “No joke, Asher. I’m your fiancée.”
“My fiancée? But...”
A million emotions coursed through his brain in a tangled mess. Ivy. Shrinky-dinky. He tried to latch on to one, but something stung the back of his neck. As he clapped his hand against his flesh, the beautiful face before him melted away and he sank into darkness.
As Asher hit the ground, Paige gasped and lurched forward.
Loud voices and a crashing noise had her jumping back behind the tree.
“What the hell, Granger? Did you have to shoot him with a dart?”
Paige backed up and scrambled for cover behind a clump of bushes and a rotting log. She flipped up her hood and smashed her face into the mulch, the smell of moist, verdant dirt filling her nostrils.
“Don’t give me that, Lewis. If that guy gets away, it’s your ass and my ass.”
“I don’t think he was running for the hills or anything. Where would he be going? Besides, he’s got enough drugs pumping through his veins that he wouldn’t get far, anyway.”
Paige held her breath as two sets of footsteps marched closer to her hiding place. She couldn’t see the two men and she hoped to God they couldn’t see her.
The other man, Granger, snorted. “You’re gonna count on that? This dude’s big, and even though his mind’s messed up, he’s still in Delta Force physical condition.”
“That’s exactly my point.” The underbrush crackled and rustled as if the two men were hauling a tree trunk. “You brought him down, and now we gotta carry him back. We coulda just told him the Ping-Pong tournament was starting or something.”
A bug crawled across Paige’s face and she squeezed her eyes closed, willing it away from her nose. These two men could not catch her here, as much as she wanted to save Asher from their clutches.
“We didn’t know what he was up to or his state of mind. I don’t trust any of these guys, and I’m not gonna lose my job or risk getting my ass kicked by any of them—especially this one.”
Huffs, puffs and curses replaced the conversation of the two men, and when the forest had gone silent once again, Paige raised her head and peeked over the crest of the log.
She crawled on her belly in the opposite direction, every cell in her body screaming at her to turn back toward Asher. Would he remember their meeting when he came to? Would he understand what they’d done to him? Would he know to keep her a secret?
By the time she reached the end of the wooded area and scrambled downhill to the access road, tears streamed down her face. What were they doing to Asher and why?
He was a hero who’d risked his life for his country, and that very country now held him captive, held his mind captive.
She hiked along the side of the access road, her boots scuffing the dirt. She couldn’t go to the police. She couldn’t go to the army. She might be putting Asher in danger if she did.
Before she hit the main road, she glanced over her shoulder at the hillside covered with trees. She’d be back.
She’d be back to get Asher and get him the hell out of that loony bin—after all, she was the fiancée of a D-Boy.
* * *
ASHER GROANED AND shifted to his side. His tongue swept his bottom lip and he tasted dirt. The forest. The woman.
A chipper voice pierced his brain. “Coming to?”
He peeled open one eye and took in the form of a sturdy nurse in pink scrubs. It wasn’t this woman—Tabitha—he’d seen in the forest. How come he could remember her so well?
“What happened?” He cupped the back of his head with his hand, flattening his palm against the scar.
“You
