Silent Run

face value. My parents’ divorce was brutal, and the months leading up to it were a nightmare of accusations and lies. Afterward was no better. I grew up thinking it would be smarter to stay single and save myself a shitload of pain. But, no, I let you get under my skin. I broke every rule I’d ever made for myself, and you screwed me every way you could."
    â€œI’m sorry I hurt you,” she said, the words springing forth before she could stop them.
    His eyes darkened. “How can you be sorry when you claim not to know what you did?"
    â€œBecause it’s clear that I caused you pain. And it’s obvious that I wasn’t the only one in your life to do that. It sounds like you had a rough childhood."
    â€œI’m not going to talk to you about my parents."
    â€œThen tell me about mine,” she said, changing the topic again in search of something that would give her a clue to her past.
    â€œI don’t know anything about your family. You said they were dead, that they died in a car crash and you went to live with your grandmother in Boston, but I couldn’t find her or any record of her -- or you, for that matter. So that was a lie."
    She sighed. It seemed every question she asked eventually led to a dead end. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I told you about my parents, like where we lived, or what they looked like, or what they did for a living?"
    â€œYou said you missed watching old musicals and movies with your mom. I think she was a stay-at-home mom. You didn’t mention a job. Apparently when you were a little girl, your mother used to take you to a movie theater in the afternoons where --"
    â€œWhere movies were a dollar,” she finished, excitement racing through her veins. “I remember that movie house. It was one of those big, old-fashioned theaters. We used to sit in the balcony in the front row. I’d put my feet up on the railing." She paused. "Weird that I would remember that and nothing else."
    â€œMaybe you remembered the movie house because there’s nothing about it that scares you. But something terrifies you. There has to be a reason why your brain is protecting you from your memories."
    â€œIs that the way you think of it?"
    â€œHow do you think of it?” he countered.
    â€œI feel lost in my own head. It’s strange. It’s like you’re telling me a story about someone I don’t know. Some things you say feel right, but others don’t. I’m trying to rely on my instincts, but I feel like I’m walking through a minefield."
    â€œBecause you mixed lies with truth, Sarah. That’s why things don’t add up. You should try to get some sleep. Maybe when you wake up you’ll know who you are. And we can go get Caitlyn."
    â€œHow was I with Caitlyn?"
    He cleared his throat. “Good. You were good,” he said roughly. “The two of you were inseparable from the moment I cut the cord and handed her to you."
    â€œYou cut the cord?” she echoed, the tender image at odds with the hard man sitting in front of her.
    â€œYeah, I did. I was there for every second of the fourteen hours you were in labor. And when Caitlyn was born, my life changed.” His gaze settled on her face. “It was the best moment of my life. The worst was when I realized you’d taken Caitlyn and left me.” He jerked to his feet. “I’m going for a walk."
    â€œJake..."
    â€œWhat?"
    â€œDid we really love each other?"
    He paused by the door. “When you get your memory back, you’ll know the answer."
    * * *
    â€œShe went on the news,” Shane Hollis said, adrenaline rushing through his blood as he turned off the television set in his motel room. He hadn’t anticipated that she would go public. It changed everything, and it would make it more difficult to get to her. “She went on the fucking news,” he repeated.
    The silence on the other end of the phone disturbed him. He’d already failed several times. He knew he would have only one more chance at the most. If he didn’t kill her, his own life would be over.
    There had been a time when they were equals, brothers -- or so he had thought. But what had started out as a game in their youth had taken turns he had never imagined. He stared down at the tattoo on his wrist, still remembering the day they’d gone in to get them. The tiger stood for fierceness, power, loyalty, brotherhood. He