you. Your family.”
Her heart seized. Family? She couldn’t remember a family. All she could remember was Ethan, and even those images were vague. When had she forgotten? All she could remember was endless pain and fear. The haziness brought on by injections thrust upon her and the crawling need when they waited too long to give her another dose.
For a brief moment she hesitated, drawn to the idea of family. A home. People who loved her. But then she remembered. Ethan was dead. He was all she had, all she could remember. Surely she would remember if there were others. Would she have forgotten her family?
You can barely remember who you are.
The thought drifted through the twisted pathways of her mind, taunting and reminding her of her tenuous grasp on her sanity.
She caught movement in her periphery and yanked her head to the side to see another man stalk toward Sam and Steele. He wore a ferocious scowl as his gaze homed in on her. He was bigger and meaner looking than Sam, and he should have put the fear of God in her, but there was something familiar, something oddly comforting about him.
Was she losing her mind?
He stopped at Sam’s side, and she still stared as images flashed erratically in her mind.
“What the hell is going on, Sam?” he asked in a low growl. “We don’t have time to be fucking around. Let’s get her and go.”
“Tell her that,” Sam murmured as he stared at the gun she held. “I’d say she doesn’t want to go.”
Like flashes of lightning in a black sky, pictures shot randomly through her shattered mind. Memories? The man standing beside Sam, only he was smiling, almost tenderly. Water. A dock. He lifted her and then tossed her into the lake. He stood laughing as she came up sputtering, and she was laughing too. Happy. She’d been happy.
Another memory, haunting and sweet. A church. Her gliding down the center aisle. Ethan waiting . . . and this man in front of her . . . he’d escorted her. Her hand clutched tight over his arm. He whispered low for her not to worry, that she was the most beautiful bride in the world and that his brother was the luckiest man on earth.
Garrett. Ethan’s brother?
“Garrett?” she whispered.
His face immediately softened. The scowl disappeared and something that looked like joy flashed in his eyes for just a moment.
“Yes, Rachel. It’s me, Garrett.”
Making an instant decision, she flew to his side, careful to put him between her and the other two men. He stiffened in surprise but put an arm around her. She tucked herself into his side and leveled a guarded look at Sam.
“Let me have the gun, sweet pea,” Garrett murmured as he gently pried it from her fingers.
She flinched when it glanced off her injured shoulder, and her breathing sped up. Sam frowned and made a move toward her, but she hastily backed away, her feet tangling in the undergrowth. She went down on her backside, landing painfully.
Garrett was down beside her instantly, his hand going to her arm. Sam stood back, his brows furrowed.
“Are you okay, Rachel? Where are you hurt?” Garrett asked.
“My shoulder,” she said. “I can’t move my arm. Hurts too much.”
“Probably dislocated,” Sam said grimly. “The angle is crooked, and she’s favoring it awfully bad.”
She scooted back as Sam moved forward again. He cursed and halted.
“She doesn’t remember you,” Garrett said.
“Yeah, I noticed,” Sam muttered. “I’m not surprised she remembers you, though. Thank God for that at least.”
“He lied,” Rachel whispered.
Garrett’s eyes narrowed. “Who lied?”
“Sam.”
Sam’s head rocked back in surprise. “Me?”
Garrett’s hand came out to smooth her hair from her face. “What did he lie about, sweet pea?”
Tears welled, and she bit her lip to keep the moan of despair from escaping. “He said he’d take me back to Ethan, but Ethan’s dead.”
Both Garrett’s and Sam’s eyes widened in shock. Sam blew out his breath then squatted beside her, ignoring her efforts to move away.
“Why on earth do you think Ethan’s dead?”
“I saw him fall. He was shot. He told me to go and then he went down. I saw him.”
Sam smiled. “He’s not dead, Rachel. It would take a hell of a lot more than that to kill that ornery bastard. It was just a graze. He bled like a stuck pig, but he’s fine. I swear it.”
Her gaze flew to Garrett for confirmation, hope beating relentlessly against her chest. Garrett gave a short nod.
“Is he okay now?” she