Page 56 of Trapped

Chapter Eleven

Cash waited with his breath frozen in his lungs. Dinner—or was it lunch?—had been a way of stalling.

When they had made love, he had trusted her with his emotions. Now he had dared to confront her with the problem that held him in its iron grip.

She laid her hand lightly over his. “We don’t have to do it all at once,” she murmured.

“Yeah, but the longer I can’t access my memories, the more threat I am to you.”

“Why are you a threat?”

“Because Montgomery wants information from me. And if his guys catch up with me, we’re a hell of a lot better off if I have the big picture.”

She knitted her fingers with his. “We can start with easy stuff. Let’s do some more of what we tried before.”

“Which is?”

“I’ll tell you about your life, and you’ll see if what I say triggers more memories.

“Okay.”

She closed her eyes, thinking for a moment.

“What are you trying to do—dredge up something good?”

“I’m trying to see what’s most effective.” She squeezed his hand. “Do you remember the fireworks incident?”

“Not in those words.”

“Do you remember Arty Hillman?”

He blinked as a pudgy face leaped into his mind. “The fat kid with the crew cut?”

“Yes.”

“What about him?”

“Try to put that together with fireworks.”

He closed his eyes, and suddenly a memory was there. Arty Hillman at twilight, out in a field, setting off fireworks—and a bunch of kids, including Sophia and Cash, watching.

“A Roman candle fell over as it started to go off, shooting balls of fire toward the crowd.”

“Good job.”

He shrugged. “Okay. I’m remembering stuff from school. Does that mean whatever Montgomery was drugging me with is out of my system?”

“Hopefully. But I don’t’ know what it was. What else do you remember about the fireworks?”

“A fireball hit Danny Vera,” Cash said.

“And . . .”

“And I ran over and threw him on the ground. And smothered the fire.”

“Right. You got your arm burned, as I remember.”

“Yeah.”

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