Page 59 of Sheltered by the Lawman

He switched on the light, seeing her worried eyes and how she worked her bottom lip. “What is it?”

“I think I have my memory back.”

****

Monica cuddled in the corner of the couch and tightened the blanket around her shoulders. Cull paced the floor and she watched him. He was wearing only a pair of jeans and they were left unbuttoned. He looked amazing, and concerned.

When he stopped to stand in front of her, he sighed. “Now, tell me again who you think you are.”

She swallowed hard. “I don’t know what my name is but I’m not Monica Warren.” He tore a hand through his hair. She wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t jumping for joy. “I know you probably don’t believe me, and although I can’t remember my name and there are still some voids, but I know without a doubt that I’m not Monica.”

“Okay.” He took a seat on the edge of the couch, clasped his hands and she could see his mind working through the windows of his eyes. “Help me understand. You’re not Monica Warren. So then, what were you doing in her apartment?”

She pulled at a thread on the blanket. “I had her purse and I took it to her. Why I had it I’m not sure, but I remember going into her apartment. Then I heard a noise. Someone was there with me.”

“Who?” He lifted a thick brow.

Giving her shoulder a tight shrug, she sighed. “I-I don’t know.”

“You said you have your memory back, Mon—” he stopped as if he wasn’t sure what to call her. “Is there more? Do you have a home address so that I can verify?”

Knowing this would make it even less believable, she couldn’t stop now. “I don’t have an address. I’m sure that I was living on the streets.”

He blew out a long breath and he crossed his arms. “Homeless?”

She pushed off the blanket and scooted to the edge of the cushion to be closer to him. She touched his hand and his fingers clenched. “I know it sounds crazy, but I know it’s the truth.”

His gaze roved over her face, then came to meet her eyes. “How do you know it’s the truth?”

What could she say? She didn’t have proof. Unless…

“Think about the bag I had on me when you saved me. Would the real Monica wear any of those things? They were tattered and dirty.” Her stomach turned. She could very easily be going from one terrible situation to another.

“I had thought about that myself, but…”

“But what? I realize you need proof because you’re a lawman, but I’m telling you what I know to be the truth.”

He rubbed his forehead as if he was getting a headache. “I want to believe you, I do, but…”

“Oh my gosh. Another but!” She jumped up from the couch. “A few hours ago, all you talked about was proving my innocence and now that I’m supplying you with the details you act like I’m asking you to jump off a cliff. What is it with you?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you really want me to be innocent or was that just talk?”

“Monica—”

“Don’t call me that.” She tilted her chin.

He stood. “No, it wasn’t just talk. I want to prove your innocence, but none of it makes sense. You were in the apartment. You told me yourself at the hospital that your name was Monica. Why would you say that if it wasn’t true?”

“I don’t know. I’ll be the first to admit that a lot of the puzzle pieces are missing.”

“Do you remember anything else?”

“I’m telling you what I know. I’m sorry that it doesn’t fit into a box with a neat red ribbon. I’m sorry that I still don’t know my name, but there are a lot of memories that haven’t come back yet. I’m sure it will in time. I was hoping you’d feel good about this too.”

He took a step toward her, but she pulled away.

“Come on.”

“No, I won’t come on. The one person who I thought had my back doesn’t at all. You think I’m a woman who prostituted and killed a man.” She grabbed the blanket and charged for the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

She was for once glad that he didn’t try to speak to her.

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