Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(7)

“You’re the same girl you’ve always been. You’re funny, kind, loving, and smart. You are brave, and while we all know you’re scared, you will find your way back.”

I want to weep because that is the nicest thing he’s ever said to me. I wait for the joke about being annoying, but it doesn’t come.

Emmett clears his throat. “Is there anything you can remember past getting the job?”

I shake my head. “All I get are tiny flashes, but nothing sticks or makes sense.”

“Nothing is tiny.” Holden’s voice is soothing as he speaks. “Tell us what you see. Maybe if you put it into words, it will help you remember.”

I sigh, hating this, but he’s a doctor and knows best. “I remember the smell of smoke, but not from a campfire so much as a cigar or pipe or something. It’s almost as if I can taste it. I can’t explain it, but it was on my tongue. I don’t smoke, right? Like, I didn’t suddenly take up smoking cigars?”

Emmett laughs. “Not that I know of.”

Spencer shakes his head. “As if you smoked it or ate something with that flavor?”

I ponder that for a second. “No, it was more like a remnant of it, but it wasn’t . . . I don’t know. I’m not making sense.”

Holden rests his hand on my shoulder. “This is good, Brie. It means it’s not all lost.”

“Yes, I’m really relieved that I have some random taste of a cigar from sometime in the last three years.”

“It’s a relief that it’s a memory that you can’t attach to anything before three years ago,” he counters.

I guess. I wish I could remember why I tasted it. I move my tongue around the top of my mouth and lean forward. “Wait!”

“What?” Emmett asks.

“It wasn’t on my tongue. It was on someone else.” I close my eyes, trying to bring back that spark of remembrance, and I can sense something else. Warmth and desire. “I was kissing someone who had smoked one.”

Emmett leans forward. “Who?”

I wait, anxiety and excitement filling my veins. If I can remember who, then that’s a memory that came back. I search through the instance, but it’s odd. I close my eyes, trying to focus. No face, no sounds, nothing other than heat and the taste. I lift my gaze, meeting Holden’s, and my heart falls. “I don’t know. I am assuming, Henry.”

Spencer’s voice fills my ears. “Close your eyes again, Brielle. I want you to go back to that kiss. I want you to embrace it. The desire, the warmth, the way you felt. Think about the taste on your tongue. Now, think about your body. Was he tall?”

“I can’t see him.”

“Did you have to crane your neck?” Spencer asks.

I try to remember the kiss. “Yes. I had to lift up . . .”

“Good. What about the kiss itself?”

I remember the way they felt against mine, pushing and teasing. “No, he was playful.” And then the memory is gone. My eyes fly open, and I want to scream. “It’s gone. I can’t . . .”

“It’s okay,” Emmett assures me. “I know you want your memories back, but trying to force them is just going to frustrate you. You have to allow your mind to go at its own pace.”

That is so much easier said than done. “That’s easy for you to think, Em. I’m terrified of what happened. I have no idea if it was a robbery gone wrong. If someone came after me, or was Isaac the target? What if the guy or girl who killed him comes to finish the job? I need to remember. I need my life back so I can feel safe and know this person is behind bars.”

Spencer says, “No one is going to hurt you. We have officers outside the door now until your new security team arrives to protect you when you’re released. We would never allow you to be hurt.”

“A security team?”

Emmett nods. “Yes. We’d hire the entire US Army if we could, but these guys are all former SEALs or special ops guys. I trust them with my life, and they will protect yours.”

I swear that I’m living in an alternate reality. Maybe this is the dream. Maybe I’m in my room, just waiting to wake up from this nightmare, but this isn’t a dream. There is no waking up from this hell. I lie back against the pillow, feeling useless. “If I could just retrace my life . . .”

Holden smiles. “It might help, but it might not.” His phone goes off, and he answers, giving one-word responses before turning to Emmett. “The other patient you wanted to talk to is awake.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be back to check on you in a bit,” Holden explains.

I nod. “I’ll still be here.”

They leave, including Addison and my mother, and Spencer settles into the chair Emmett had been sitting in. He looks exhausted, and the scruff on his face is almost a full beard. “What?” he asks.

I wonder what happened to make him look so broken. Spencer has always been larger than life, but today, he appears a little lost.

“You just look . . . like you came back from a very exciting story.” That could be true. Usually, after a big assignment, he isn’t exactly dashing. He’s been living God knows where, doing God knows what, and . . . well, it’s when I always found him a little sexier than usual.

“I wish it were that.”