Remember Jamie Baker (Jamie Baker #3)(65)

I sobered immediately. Johnny G was right. There were a million things that could go wrong if I lost control here. I did not want to short out any machines that happened to be keeping people alive. “Thanks.” I let out a breath. “Has he been that annoying the entire time?”

Smut, who was glued to my other side, laughed. “Worse.”

I sighed.

“Have to admire his tenacity, though,” Johnny G said as we rounded a corner, passing the reception desk without stopping. Apparently he already knew where we were going. “He’s been relentless since the moment we met him.”

“I thought he was crazy,” Smut admitted. “After hearing Carter’s story and seeing the crater you left in Nevada…” Smut whistled and shook his head. “Everyone thought you were dead, but he refused to accept that. We were looking for Donovan. He was looking for you. And, ultimately, he’s the one who found you. Ryan was the one who thought of talking to Edwards and got him to give up the names of Donovan’s possible partners. We wouldn’t have found you without him.”

Johnny G nudged me with his elbow. “He’s a good guy, Angel, and he’s crazy about you. You should give him a chance.”

Becky’s teasing voice rang out behind me. “Oh, she will. Ryan has a gift for getting his way.”

When we all glanced back, Becky and Ryan were walking right behind us. Ryan winked at me, obviously having heard most, if not all, of our conversation.

We turned another corner and I stumbled to a stop. In front of us was an ominous-looking pair of doors that needed a badge to get through. Even though I knew the doctors probably wouldn’t be able to help me, that today was all just a ruse to draw out Donovan, I still felt as if my fate waited on the other side of those doors.

A soft gasp drew my attention to a small waiting area on my left. I recognized the couple that’d risen to their feet and were holding each other as if they were both at risk of collapsing from photos Ryan had shown me. The other ACEs were waiting with them and gave me smiles, but I couldn’t look away from my parents.

“Jamie,” the woman—my mom—croaked. She held out her hands to me but I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place, my legs unwilling to cooperate. I couldn’t breathe, either. Time seemed to stop as we studied each other from across the small area.

My father was a giant—a tall man with huge, broad shoulders; scruffy gray hair; deep blue eyes; and a neatly trimmed beard. My mother was a tall, thin blonde-haired blue-eyed wisp of a woman. She looked delicate, an older version of the beauty queen Ryan told me she had once been.

I was a good mix of the two of them. I was tall and thin, like my mother, but not at all wispy. Though I had an excellent figure, I was still sturdy, like my father—toned and athletic. Looks wise, I’d say I resembled my father more, but judging from the tears streaming down my mother’s face and her quiet sobs, I was still my mother’s daughter.

Ryan grabbed my hand, breaking the stillness that had settled over the entire group. It was brave of him. I was upset enough I could have hurt him. But it was as if my power was more aware of him than I was, as if I subconsciously needed him and my power knew that and would never hurt him. Maybe he understood that, too. He gave my hand a squeeze. “Come on, Jamie. I’ll introduce you.”

“Jamie,” my dad whispered. “It’s really you.”

When I heard the emotion in his voice, I finally realized there were tears pooled in his eyes as well. I swallowed a lump of emotion and willed my voice not to shake. “I guess so. That’s what everyone keeps telling me, anyway.”

My father’s eyes finally spilled over, and my mother’s sobs stopped being quiet. As I watched my father pull my mom into his arms, comforting her, I wrapped my arms around myself. The woman was heartbroken because I couldn’t remember her.

A soft hand fell to my back, and then Ryan said, “Jamie, this is Linda and Stan Baker. You knew them better as Mom and Dad.”

Not knowing what else to do, I held my hand out. My mom ignored it and threw her arms around me, crushing me in a fierce, desperate hug. She was a good deal stronger than she looked. “Oh, sweetheart!” she cried. “You’re alive. I can’t believe you’re alive. We’ve missed you so much.”

My father stepped forward and wrapped his giant arms around the both of us, squeezing as if he planned to never let either of us go ever again. He said nothing, and I suspected that was because he couldn’t. His whole body was shaking as he held me. Finally, trapped in this group hug, I realized that whether I remembered them or not, these were my parents. The joy they felt at having me back in any condition was undeniable. Their love for me was unconditional, and it broke my hardened heart. Cracked it wide open. “Mom. Dad.” I unleashed a flood of tears that rivaled my mother’s. “I’m sorry I can’t remember.”

“Don’t be sorry, baby girl,” my dad whispered, voice thick. “We don’t care. We’re just glad you’re safe.”

“We love you, Jamie,” Mom said. She pulled herself out of the hug and wiped her eyes. “We’ve been through worse. We’ll get through this, too.”

When my mom let me go, my father pulled me even tighter, squeezing me in a bear hug that would have probably hurt a normal person. But I wasn’t normal, and this man knew that. He didn’t care how hard he squeezed me. Oddly enough, the fact that he wasn’t gentle comforted me.