Remember Jamie Baker (Jamie Baker #3)(46)

My pulse skyrocketed and the lights flickered. Major Wilks, Ryan, and Carter all glanced sharply at me. “You okay?” Ryan whispered.

I took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

No sooner did I say that then the guy behind the camera said, “We’re live in five, four, three…”

The cameraman counted off the last two numbers silently with his fingers and then pointed at Carter. Carter put on his best reporter face and looked into the camera. “Good morning. I’m David Carter, reporting live from CNN studios in New York City, bringing you an exclusive interview today with kidnap victim Jamielynn Baker and her fiancé, Ryan Miller. Joining them is Major Kenneth Wilks of the U.S. Northern Command.”

If not for that statement about Ryan, I would have laughed at his reporter voice. Instead, I scoffed. “He’s not my fiancé.”

Ryan sighed, and Carter cleared his throat. “My apologies, Jamie.” He turned back to the camera. “Ryan is Jamie’s former fiancé. Jamie is suffering from a case of total amnesia.” He looked at me again. “I assume the lack of memory is the reason for the breakup?”

I gave him a flat look. “You assume correctly.”

“And it’s just a temporary pause in the engagement,” Ryan chimed in. “Not a breakup.”

I rolled my eyes, and Carter, thankfully, moved the conversation along. “Jamie was abducted from her college dormitory six months ago and disappeared without a trace until yesterday evening, when she showed up in Las Vegas where she was brutally attacked by three unidentified men. Those men are now in police custody, and no further details have been released. Is that correct?”

Major Wilks decided to answer that one with a stiff nod and a very threatening “That’s correct.” The answer was a warning.

Carter masked an annoyed expression and turned his attention back to me. I resisted a sigh. I wasn’t looking forward to Q&A time. “So Jamie, the whole world wants to know: What happened to you? Where have you been for the last six months?”

“Both excellent questions. I wish I had answers for you.”

Carter frowned. “You don’t remember anything?”

“I don’t remember anything.”

He tried again. “What were you doing in Las Vegas?”

“I don’t know.”

“How did you get there?”

“I don’t know.”

“How did you escape your captors?”

Okay, the man was a moron. I gave him a look that told him exactly how incompetent I thought he was. “Uh, I didn’t escape them. Remember? They were in the process of trying to kill me, when a bunch of soldiers showed up with guns and knocked them out. I got a nasty concussion in the attack. Hence, the amnesia, genius.”

Carter wasn’t fazed by my snark at all. “I assumed you’d escaped wherever you were being held for the last six months and were attacked because those men found you and were trying to bring you back. Is that not what happened?”

I shrugged. “We can go with that. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but it makes me sound cool, so sure. Why not?”

Carter frowned again. “So you really have no idea at all where you’ve been, how you ended up in Las Vegas, or why you were attacked?”

“Didn’t we just go over this?”

“You must have at least known your attackers,” Carter said.

“Why would I know my attackers?”

“You’ve been held hostage for six months. Didn’t they at least look familiar?”

This interview was completely pointless, and Ryan was right: This guy was getting on my nerves. “Are you listening to me at all? I just said I don’t remember anything. No, my attackers didn’t look familiar. No one looks familiar. He doesn’t even look familiar.” I pointed at Ryan. “If he didn’t have a bunch of pictures of the two of us together on his phone, I wouldn’t even believe that we used to know each other.”

As much as I was trying to keep control, I was getting pissed off and a blast of energy shot out of me, making the power blitz. The cameraman flinched back and tapped his equipment. Carter shot him a worried glance. “Are we good?”

The guy gave a thumbs-up. “We’re still rolling.”

While Carter apologized to the world that we were experiencing some technical difficulties, Ryan slipped his hand into mine. “Hey, Jamie, try to relax. You’re doing great.”

“Relax?” I asked. “This guy’s an idiot.” Carter’s head snapped to me, so I repeated myself. “You’re an idiot. Quit asking me questions you know I can’t answer. Do you understand how amnesia works? It’s memory loss. It means I don’t remember anything. That’s not going to change, no matter how many asinine questions you ask me. Stop making me repeat myself.”

That finally cracked Carter’s professional fa?ade. A flash of annoyance crossed his face so fast I was probably the only one to notice it. There was some sick satisfaction in knowing that I was annoying Carter as much as he was annoying me.

“Very well,” he said through gritted teeth. “Why don’t you just tell me what you do know?”

I groaned. “I already told you everything I know. I know I was missing for six months. I know some guys tried to kill me yesterday, and I know this guy”—I pointed to Ryan again—“thinks I’m going to marry him and is annoyingly persistent about it.”