The Edge of Recall (12 page)

“Let me go.”

“I can’t do that.”

She would not melt down in front of him. Her stomach churned. She bit her lip against the rising panic.

“I’ll take you, if you need to go. I don’t want you driving alone.”

She couldn’t speak.

“Is it asthma?”

She shook her head.

He took the keys from her hand. “We’ll take your car. Bair can get Katy back and pick me up at the inn.”

She’d stopped listening, her own panicked breath the loudest thing she heard.

He moved her around to the passenger side. This was wrong. She couldn’t get in with him. She’d have no control. But she slid mutely into the seat, keeping the terror from her eyes. Never show fear. Monsters feed on fear.

“You’re not afraid, are you?”

Her chest quaked, but she shook her head no.

“You won’t say a word. Not one word.”

Her head moved side to side. She would not be afraid. She would
not talk.

She jolted. Where had that come from? The monsters in her dreams didn’t talk. They only chased. She shut her eyes and barely kept from crying out when the engine started.

She gripped the seat. Smith reached across and strapped her in. She fought another scream. He’d either stopped talking or she couldn’t hear him anymore.
Don’t be afraid. Don’t say a thing.
She opened her eyes after a while when she realized the car had stopped. He’d gone past the inn to the hospital in Leonardtown.

“I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

She wanted to tell him no, but she couldn’t. It took everything in her to draw the humid night air into her lungs. He let her out and ushered her through the emergency entrance.

A moonfaced receptionist manned the check-in counter. “May I help you?”

Tessa shook her head.

“Just tell her what happened,” Smith murmured.

The woman waited, then prompted, “Shortness of breath, pallor—maybe panic?”

“No.” If she didn’t recognize it, panic could not move from her nightmares into her life. She spent the sleeping half of her life afraid; she would not surrender the rest. She clutched the counter, feeling light-headed.

A few moments later a nurse coaxed her through the door to the cubicles. “Just come on back and we’ll talk.”

She didn’t want to talk—not to this stranger, not to Smith, not to anyone who didn’t get it. She did not want to hash it all out again. She was tired of trying to explain. “I don’t need to be seen.”

“Are you sure? You seem a little stressed.”

“I’m fine.” Her fists formed bone-white knuckles.

“Do you take medications? Anti-anxiety or . . .”

“I have a prescription for Xanax. I only use it when I can afford to be dopey.”

The nurse made a note. “Did something set off an attack?”

Tessa tensed. “There’s nothing wrong.”

“Any other meds?”

“No.” Not anymore.

“Why don’t I get a BP.” She removed the pressure cuff from the hook, but Tessa shook her head.

“I don’t need treatment.”

“Your friend seemed pretty concerned.”

Her friend? If he’d taken her home, she’d be calm already. “I need to go.”

“I’ll just send the doctor in.”

Tessa shook her head. “I don’t need to see him.”

“It’s a woman tonight. Dr. Gail Adams.”

Gender didn’t matter. Tessa pushed aside the curtain and headed for the door. “I don’t need to see her. Smith overreacted.”

“I’d recommend—”

“I appreciate it, but all I need is sleep.” Though she dreaded the thought. If she was no longer safe wide awake, what would the night bring?

The nurse sighed. “Come back if you change your mind.”

Tessa swept through the automatic doors and out to the front. As Smith rose to his feet, she strode past him into the night. She’d walk to the inn. It couldn’t be that far.

Outside he caught her arm. “Wait, will you.”

“Where’s the inn?”

“About three and a half miles.”

How had they gotten so far past without her noticing? “Which way?”

“Get in the car, Tess. I’ll take you.”

The stubborn set of his mouth said he would not let her go off alone in the dark. Wanting this over, she buckled herself in and rode silently. She got out at the inn before he could think of getting her door.
Now leave
, she thought.

“Are you going to talk to me?” He’d reached the inn door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He rubbed a hand over his face, clearly agitated. “Tess, if I—”

“It’s not about you.” In a real sense that was true.

“I don’t feel good leaving with no explanation.”

He should try living without one. “I guess I’m not a good double date.”

He held her gaze too long. She spun for the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.” If not for the labyrinth, she’d fly home and never see him again.

He didn’t move until she’d closed the door and climbed the stairs. After that she didn’t know because she didn’t look back.

CHAPTER

11

Bair had dropped Katy off when Smith got into the Rover. “All right?”

“Not really.”

“She didn’t seem ill earlier. But I guess things can just come on.”

“She’s not ill. She’s upset.”

“By what happened in the kitchen?”

“I kissed her.”

Bair frowned. “I thought you weren’t going there.”

“I wasn’t.” He could not believe he’d acted so irresponsibly. “But . . . she was all shaking and teary-eyed. . . .”

“Tears.” Bair nodded. “The brain scrambler.”

“I know better. I
knew
better at twenty-two.” He pressed his head between his hands.

“Maybe there’s more to it than you think.”

“There’s not more to it. I like sane women.”

“Sane didn’t work out so well.” Bair flicked him a glance.

Smith refused to add old anger to new angst. “I took her to emergency, thought maybe it was asthma or food poisoning.”

Bair scowled.

“I mean allergic reaction, you know, since she couldn’t breathe.”

Bair hit the open road and took off. “What did they say?”

“She left before seeing the doctor. It was all I could do to get her to let me drive her home.”

“All that over a kiss?”

Smith shook his head. “There has to be more to it. She told me something about nightmares once. Maybe they’ve become panic attacks. That’s what it looked like.”

“Would she want to be left alone, then?”

“If I’m the cause. Look, Bair, maybe you should liaison between us, so she won’t have to deal with me.”

“Bad idea.”

“Why?”

“You might not see it, but she’s got feelings for you.”

“I see it. She despises me.”

Bair shook his head. “Get to the bottom of the row you had and apologize.”

“All I do is apologize. I’m not even sure I’m apologizing for myself anymore. It’s as though I’m apologizing for everyone who’s ever hurt, left, and betrayed her. If you acted as go-between—”

“Brilliant. When we’re all cozied up in the office, you’ll just talk past her and I’ll repeat it back.”

Smith released his breath. “No, obviously. I wish we weren’t sharing the same space, though. It’s being near her that’s difficult.”

“Why?”

Smith threw out his hands. “Chemistry, I guess.” Except it wasn’t only that. There was something deeper that tugged when she was near. It had since the first time he’d seen her crossing campus with a look on her face of equal parts utter delight and sheer terror.

It was the first time he’d experienced the pull and repulsion of her magnetism. He’d learned quickly how hazardous she could be, yet there’d been an excitement to it as well. But he’d been young and careless then. He should have learned something since.

Bair shook his head. “I’ve seen you when it’s only chemistry. You’ve got stronger brakes than a 747.”

Smith sighed. “I don’t know what, then. Maybe I feel sorry for her.”

“What did she do when you kissed her?”

“She . . .” He saw again the look in her eyes, a look that could swallow him whole, that had made him turn and run immediately. “It shouldn’t have happened; that’s all.”

Bair shot him a pointed look. “Maybe it’s time to dump your baggage.”

“What baggage?”

“Danae.”

“That’s well done and over with.”

“Then why not go for it?” Bair pulled through the open gate.

Smith hopped out and closed it, then got back in. “Listen, Bair. There’s nothing personal between Tess and me. That would be insanity.”

“Would it?” Bair pulled up at the trailer. “Because I think she’s a nice girl, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have someone who wanted you as much as you wanted her.”

Smith blew an exasperated breath as they climbed out. “This isn’t about Danae. And Tessa’s not— I told you. She’s got issues. Serious issues that, believe it or not, don’t involve me.”

“You can’t help her sort them out?”

“Not if—” Smith paused on the stoop and sniffed. “Do you smell that?”

“Urine.”

“And not an animal’s. That’s human.”

“How on earth would you know?”

“Hunting with Dad—and a few foul men’s rooms.” Smith stepped off the stoop. “It’s still wet.” He caught the glint in the moonlight and scraped the soles of his shoes in the dirt.

“Someone peed at our door?”

“Looks that way.”

“But who? What for?”

Smith frowned. “I don’t know. An insult. A prank. A warning.”

“Warning?”

“In human culture, urinating on something is an insult. In nature it’s a territorial challenge.”

“You said it’s not an animal.”

“Doesn’t mean he doesn’t act like one.” Smith searched the darkness around them. “The level was clearly not message enough. Yesterday it was a dead bird.” He had disposed of it without alerting Bair or Tessa.

Bair stared. “What’s he trying to say?”

“If I had to guess, he’d like to scare us off.”

“But . . . it’s almost childish, these pranks.”

Childish . . . and sinister.

“Maybe it’s a poltergeist.” By his expression, Bair was only half teasing.

“Step over, won’t you, and bring out the bleach.”

Tessa shuddered. The panic had passed, but it left a residue of disgust. Why hadn’t she simply dealt with the situation? She should not have disintegrated in front of Smith and Bair and Katy. There hadn’t even been a reason—just an escalating physical response she couldn’t tie to anything, directly.

Hands shaking, she made the call she’d been resisting. No point pretending she didn’t need help. She would listen—to anything except giving up the labyrinth. The project had taken hold of her, and she would see it rebuilt, even if it meant facing Smith every day. She just had to get through the night, and she wasn’t too proud to admit she couldn’t do it alone.

Dr. Brenner’s voice mail connected. “Dr. Brenner. If this is an emergency, press one. Or leave a message at the tone.”

She pressed one. He’d want her to. Besides, it was earlier there.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.”

“What can I do for you, Tessa?”

She sat down on the bed. “I need you to relax me.”

“All right. Tell me what’s going on.”

She swiped a tear from her eye. “I don’t want to talk. Just the relaxation exercise.”

He sighed. “Tessa. Have I ever put you in a vulnerable position without knowing the issue?”

“I think it was an anxiety attack.”

“Brought on by what?”

Smith’s kiss? His immediate rejection? She said, “I don’t know. But I felt the woods closing in, the ground getting soft. It was my dream . . . only . . . I wasn’t asleep.” She shook just saying that much. His pause was so long she chewed her lip raw.

“This is fresh territory, then.”

She recognized his probing tone. “It’s been a little stressful, and I just need to relax.”

“We can’t ignore a change this portentous.”

“It’s not portentous.” She clenched her free hand. She wouldn’t let it be. “It was one high-anxiety moment. Now it’s gone.”

“You know better.” He sounded disappointed.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Are you prepared to let out what’s trying to break through?”

She rolled her eyes back. How many times were they going to have this discussion? “There’s nothing trying to break through.” Then what was the voice that had taken her by surprise? “Smith kissed me and I wasn’t prepared for it. That’s all. End of story.”

He sighed. “Are you lying down?”

She lay back and adjusted her head on the pillow. “Yes.”

“Close your eyes.”

She did.

“I’m going to bring you to a safe place, but first tell me how it felt to be kissed.”

She swallowed the lump that filled her throat. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If that caused the anxiety, we need to process the emotion.”

She pulled her breath in through her nose. “It . . . felt nice.”

“Nice how?”

Nice hadn’t been the right word. It hadn’t been nice; it had been shocking. “Powerful.”

“Who had the power?”

She started to shake. “We . . . I . . . It was over too fast, and then . . . he . . .” Her voice broke. “Smith acted like it didn’t happen. No, like it shouldn’t have.”