Ivy regained her balance, but the guy held on, his eyes as powerful as his hands.
ʺLet go,ʹ she said.
They stood side by side on the step, and after a moment, she took a step higher to even out their height.
ʺFeeling better, I see,ʺ he said dryly. ʺAnd you,ʺ she answered lightly, ʺfeeling as antisocial as ever.ʺ
His eyes traveled down her, and she became acutely aware of her tight jeans and oversize shirt Determined not to appear self‐conscious, she gazed back at him steadily. He was clean shaven today and wore a pair of tattered jeans, old shoes, and a terry‐cloth robe that was about ft foot and a half too short for him, ʺNice seeing you — and not talking — again,ʺ Ivy said, starting down the steps.
“Do you have a car?”
She turned around, surprised by the question. ʺYes. Why?ʺ
ʺI need a ride.”
“A ride now? Where?ʺ
“Not far,” he replied casually. “The next town over.” Ivy cocked her head.
ʺProvidence,ʺ he said. ʺProvidence is the next state over,” Ivy told him.
ʺWherever,ʺ he replied gruffly. ʺJust get me out of here.ʺ In the fluorescent light, his bruised skin looked grayish green. ʺSony,ʺ Ivy said. ʺI donʹt know what kind of medical problems you have — other than amnesia and—ʺ
“Iʹve never been better.” He started down the steps toward her.
ʺAndyʹs looking for you.ʺ To hell with Andy. To hell with all of them!ʺ he exploded. Ivy stayed calm but moved quickly down the stairs, trying to stay ahead of him without triggering a chase that she was sure to lose. ʺTheyʹll let you out when you are well.ʺ
ʺI canʹt wait that long!ʺ She reached the door marked Level 2 and pushed against it. It didnʹt budge. She pushed again.
He smirked. ʺAlready tried that. Iʹve tried them all.ʺ He walked steadily down the steps toward her. ʺThe only one mat opens onto a floor is Level G.ʺ
Ivy hurried down the steps, hesitating at the door to Level 1, men continuing past it. The guy quickly closed the gap between them, catching her from behind, turning her toward him and backing her against the wall. ʺGet out your keys.ʺ
ʺWhy do you want to leave?ʺ she asked.
ʺHand them over,ʺ he demanded.
ʺYou donʹt even know why/ʹ she guessed. ʺYou have no idea what youʹre doing or where youʹre going!ʺ Releasing her, he took a step back. This was her chance to get away, but something sheʹd glimpsed in his eyes held her there.
He sat down slowly on the concrete steps, then dropped his head in his hands.
ʺWhatʹs going on?ʺ Ivy asked in a gentler voice. He shook his head. ʺI donʹt know. I just know I have to get away. Somebodyʹs after me, and Iʹve got to get away.ʺ
Ivy moved several steps below him and sat down. She saw that his forearms were badly bruised, as was the side of his head, close to his left ear. A long cut scored his neck, just beneath his jaw. There was more to his story than being found unconscious on a beach or saved from drowning; heʹd been beaten upbadly.
If he was in serious trouble, sheʹd be crazy to get involved. For all she knew, he remembered what had happened to him but didnʹt want to admit it because he was to blame.
Ivy began to rise, men stopped. What if he did have to get away — what if someone was hunting him down? All he was asking was for a way to leave the hospital. Ivyʹs instinct was to help. Then again, when first dealing with Gregory, she had trusted her instincts, and sheʹd been dead wrong.
ʺWhat have they told you about your condition?ʺ she asked. He shrugged her off. ʺIt doesnʹt matter.ʺ
ʺAnswer my question.ʺ Sighing, he complied. ʺThere was water in my lungs.
Obviously Iʹve been beaten up. I have a head injury. The brain scans indicate that the memory loss isnʹt physical.ʺ He glanced away. ʺThey had me talk with a psychiatrist — if itʹs not physical, it must be mental, right?ʺ
ʺPossibly,ʺ Ivy said, feeling for him, remembering how she blocked out Tristanʹs death and how the ʺaccidentʺ had come back to her bit by bit in horrifying nightmares. His eyes met hers. ʺIf s happened to you. That’ s what you meant the other day, when you said mat remembering was as painful as not.ʺ
She nodded, wishing she could assure him that things would get better, but her situation was different from his. Sheʹd had Will, Beth, her mom, and Philipʹs care, and the enduring love of Tristan to get her through. What did he have?
ʺWhatʹs your name?ʺ she asked. ʺMy memory problem must be contagious/ʹ he replied. ʺHow would I know?ʺ
ʺYou said you didnʹt remember how you ended up hurt. You didnʹt tell me what you do remember.ʺ His smile was more of a smirk. ʺThe hospital staff calls me ʹGuy.ʹ ʹGuy Unknownʹ is what theyʹve entered in the computer, which, I guess, is one step better than John Doe.ʺ
ʺWhat should I call you?ʺ
ʺWhat would you normally call someone who pushes you against the wall and demands your keys? Something stronger than jerk, I think.ʺ Then he stood up and descended the steps, stopping one step lower than hers, as if he had remembered that she had wanted to look him straight in the eye. ʺI have to get out of here. If s the one thing I know, the only thing Iʹm sure of.ʺ
His dark blue eyes pleaded with her, and Ivy had to pull her eyes away to think clearly. ʺYouʹre going to have a hard time getting past a security guard in that bathrobe.ʺ
He tugged at the hem. ʺAndy lent it to me so I wouldnʹt walk the halls and moon people.ʺ Ivy laughed. ʺOkay,ʺ she said, making up her mind. ʺTake it off.ʺ
ʺWhat?ʺ
ʺTake off the robe,ʺ she told him, then tried not to stare at the power in his upper body or the bruises that colored it. ʺNow turn around. Face away from me.ʺ
ʺWhy?ʺ
ʺWeʹre trading.ʺ When he had turned, she removed her oversize shirt and draped it over his shoulder. ʺReady,ʺ she said, after putting on the robe.
He turned back, wearing her shirt, grinning at her. She had been right: lit with a smile, his face was the kind to break a girlʹs heart.
ʺIt’ll do,ʺ she said. The words Stonehill High stretched across his chest and the shoulder seams were pulled tight, but he was less conspicuous in that than in the short robe.
ʺIf thereʹs no security guard, weʹll just walk across the lobby like weʹre doing nothing wrong,ʺ Ivy instructed him. ʺIf we get stopped, Iʹm the patient and youʹre the person who has come to pick me up. We tell them that we got tired of waiting for Transportation to bring us a wheelchair — they make you leave in one.ʺ ʺRight.ʺ
Ivy reached in her purse for the rental key. She wondered what Beth and Will would say if she told them about this. Then she wondered if her auto insurance covered carjacking.
ʺSo if someone asks, am I your boyfriend?ʺ
ʺBrother,ʺ Ivy answered quickly. Guy smiled, as if amused by her answer, then started down the steps. He pushed open the door on the ground level and strode confidently into the lobby. He seemed so at ease. Ivy wondered how much experience heʹd had at faking it.
They were halfway across the lobby when someone stopped them.
ʺMiss, do you need assistance?ʺ As friendly as the voice had sounded, when Ivy turned around, she saw that the security guard was carefully assessing her and Guy. ʺNo, not at all.ʺ "Are you a patient?ʺ ʺI was.ʺ Ivy answered truthfully. ʺDo you have discharge papers?ʺ ʺOf course.ʺ She opened her purse and pulled them out, glad that she had written the hospital directions and her appointment time on her discharge papers. She hoped the guard wouldnʹt notice the date.
Recognizing the forms, the guard waved aside the papers. To Guy he said, ʺShe should have a wheelchair, and you need to bring the car to the curb to pick her up. Hospital policy.ʺ