“Jax! Jax, are you okay? Answer me, Jax!”

Jax could hear Chuck’s frantic cries in his earpiece, and he knew that Chuck had heard him sobbing moments before, but he still couldn’t bring himself to talk just yet. Maybe he was being selfish, but this moment was just too special to share, even with Chuck. This moment was just for Brenda and him, he decided, as took the tiny receiver out of his ear and slipped it into his pocket.

He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there on the ground by the side of the road because time had ceased to exist the moment he’d realized he’d finally found her. He wanted to sit here forever like this, leaning against the rear wheel of his rental car, simply holding her, savoring the feel of her in his arms again after all this time. He stared at her now, drinking in every part of her, etching every detail of her face and form into his heart and into his brain once again. Not that he had ever forgotten anything about her in all the time she’d been gone. How could he forget when she’d been the first thing on his mind when he awoke each morning and the last thing on his mind as he drifted off to sleep each night? And even his dreams had been filled only with her.

But still, it had been so long…

He sighed as he ran his fingers slowly, reverently across her face. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. How many times had he done this before - simply held her and stared at her, in awe of her incredible beauty? Even now, despite the fact that she had tried so hard to hide that beauty in order to look like a boy, it was still there. She was still as magnificent as ever, even without the makeup and hair.

Her hair… He remembered the countless times he’d run his fingers through her long, beautiful hair; marveling at its silky softness; enjoying its incredible thickness. And, most of all, he remembered the indescribably delicious sensations it released in his body as it brushed lightly over his skin, like a thousand downy feathers, each time they made love. He’d missed that feeling, and her beautiful long hair was gone now, but that didn’t matter to him. He wouldn’t care if she were bald, as long as she was with him, loving him.

Loving him… She still loved him, didn’t she? She had to - despite the fact that she’d hijacked him and his car at gunpoint and threatened to kill him. There had to be an explanation for that because she had to still love him. After all, she still had his ring after all this time.

He smiled as he looked down to see the engagement ring that he’d given her on a gold chain around her neck. He’d seen it on her hand just hours ago, and when she’d tried to transform herself into a boy, she’d put it on a chain to wear around her neck, but she hadn’t taken it off or left it behind. She had been gone two years and god only knows what hell she’d been through in that time, but she was still wearing his ring. That had to mean she still loved him. It had to…

He felt a drop of rain, then a second and a third, and he looked up to see that the sky had suddenly grown dark and that it was likely going to be raining hard very soon. He needed to get them both back into the car immediately or they’d be soaked within minutes. He stood and briefly debated whether to sit her in the front with him or lay her down in the back, finally deciding on the backseat, since she was still out. She could sit by him once she woke up.

He gently placed her across the backseat, then moved her legs slightly to shut the door, but when he touched her feet, he heard her moan. He pulled both pant legs up away from her ankles and immediately saw why she’d moaned. Her right ankle was swollen and badly bruised. Likely from the jump out of the bathroom window, he guessed, remembering what Chuck had said about her escape route. He gently removed her right shoe and rolled up her right pant leg to get a better look at the ankle. It looked pretty bad, but he didn’t think it was broken. But it did need ice on it as soon as possible, and wrapped, too, for support. But there were other, more urgent matters to take care of at the moment, and one of those was getting them new passports and getting Brenda out of the country as quickly as possible.

He pulled his earpiece out of his pocket and put it back into his ear. There was nothing but silence on it now. “Chuck? Are you still there?” Jax asked, as he gently shut the back door, then slid into the driver’s seat, just as the rain began to fall harder. He started the car’s engine, then flipped on the lights and the windshield wipers as he pulled back onto the deserted road.

Within seconds Chuck’s frantic answer came loud and clear: “Jax, where the hell have you been?! Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Chuck,” Jax assured him. “I’m more than okay,” he smiled, as he glanced into the rearview mirror to make sure Brenda was really in the backseat and that he hadn’t just imagined all of this.

“Why didn’t you answer me?” Chuck pressed. “I’ve been trying to raise you for the past fifteen minutes. I thought for sure that hijacker had shot you, or something.”

“Or something,” Jax repeated quietly.

“Huh?” Chuck answered, bewildered by Jax’s cryptic reply. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m better than okay, Chuck,” Jax grinned. “I’m on top of the world.”

“Well, you won’t be when I tell you about Brenda-” Chuck started.

“She’s disappeared completely,” Jax interrupted, his voice calm.

“How’d you know?” Chuck asked.

“I knew she couldn’t be there with you or with Cordoba’s bodyguard - or with Cordoba, for that matter - because she’s here in the car with me,” Jax replied.

“You found Brenda?” Chuck was astonished.

“Actually, she found me - or more precisely, she found my car,” Jax clarified.

“She found your car?” Chuck repeated, not sure he had heard Jax correctly. “How’d she know which car was yours? … Wait a minute, how’d she even know you were here looking for her?”

“She didn’t know it was my car or that I was looking for her, and I’m not sure she even knows me at this point,” Jax replied.

“I… I don’t understand…” Chuck stuttered.

“I’m not sure that I do either, Chuck,” Jax answered truthfully. “All I know is that somehow Brenda ended up in my car, pointing a gun at the back of my head-”

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Chuck yelled. “Back up there a minute - she held a gun to your head? … You mean she was your hijacker?” Chuck was completely floored by this. “What did she say when she realized it was you?”

“She didn’t say anything,” Jax explained. “She fell asleep - or passed out, maybe - I’m not sure which. But, like I said before, I don’t think she knows me, Chuck - not that she just didn’t recognize me looking as scruffy as I do now; I’m not sure she remembers me.”

There was silence on Chuck’s end for several seconds, as he tried to digest everything that Jax had just told him. “So, there’s a possibility that when she wakes up she’s going to freak because she’ll think a total stranger - you - is trying to kidnap her, and she might try to make a break for it?”

“Something like that,” Jax replied, “although she won’t be able to get very far if she tries to run. She hurt her ankle - probably when she jumped out that window. I don’t think it’s broken, but it’s pretty bruised and swollen and looks painful as hell. That’s probably why she chose my car to hide in - it was parked right next to the dumpster where she likely landed when she jumped. She probably couldn’t go much further than that,” he added, thinking how grateful he was that she had hurt that ankle; otherwise, their paths might never have crossed at all.

“Lucky break, then, huh? … Ummm, no pun intended,” Chuck added, apologetically.

“I may be wrong about her not knowing me,” Jax continued. “I mean, she may have just been in so much pain and so desperate to get away that she wasn’t thinking or seeing clearly…”

“So, are we still going ahead with everything?” Chuck asked, wondering how this affected their plans. “Are you on your way to get your passports?”

“No, I want you to take care of getting us those passports,” Jax answered.

“Jax, I told you what the guy said-” Chuck started to protest, but Jax interrupted him.

“I know what the guy said, but things have changed. Brenda’s hurt and scared, with possibly no memory of who I am, and I’m not about to drag her to this guy’s place now,” Jax declared. “You can tell him that he can either give you what you were supposed to get last night or he can consider this the last business transaction of his illustrious career because I’ll make sure the authorities somehow stumble upon him and his lucrative little enterprise.”

“Well, that should do the trick,” Chuck laughed softly. “Do you want me to meet you guys at the launch then?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Jax murmured, debating what to do next. “Are you still at the marketplace?” he finally asked.

“Yeah, but I’m just pulling away now,” Chuck told him. “Why?”

“Any idea what’s happening with the big guy? Has he called in reinforcements yet?” Jax asked.

“Well, I haven’t seen any police cars, if that’s what you mean,” Chuck replied. “But just a few minutes ago, a couple of cars pulled up and a half dozen or so clones of the big guy met up with him and began canvassing the entire area.”

“Any sign of Cordoba yet?” Jax asked quietly.

“Nope. Maybe the big guy’s trying to buy himself a little time before he tells Cordoba that she disappeared on his watch,” Chuck theorized. “I imagine this won’t be considered good for the big guy’s career - or his neck, for that matter.”

“Definitely not,” Jax muttered, wondering just what Cordoba would do when he found out that Brenda had disappeared and exactly how long they had before he put on the full-court press to locate her? But then something occurred to him: what if Cordoba was nowhere around today - possibly even out of the country? That would explain why the man hadn’t arrived at the marketplace yet to supervise things; he was known for his need to always be in control, and Jax couldn’t imagine him not wanting to control something as important as this. It would also explain why Brenda had chosen today of all days to make her escape - she knew she’d have more time to cover her tracks if it would be awhile before Cordoba could be told about it.

Jax shared his theory with Chuck: “I’m betting that Cordoba’s not there yet - and won’t be anytime soon - because he’s out of the country. It would explain why Brenda chose now of all times to make a break for it.”

“Makes sense,” Chuck replied. “So, are you thinking we might have a little leeway, time wise then?”

Jax craned his neck to gaze out at the sky. It was still raining - pouring now, in fact - but he could see breaks in the clouds to the west, which meant this rain wasn’t likely to last much longer. If there had been no other choice, he would have taken the launch even in this weather, but since they seemed to have a little breathing room, he didn’t want to chance it. Besides, he’d like to be able to stop and take care of Brenda’s ankle before they boarded the launch. “Yeah, I think we do. I don’t want to chance going across the open sea in this weather, if we don’t have to.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Chuck laughed. “If I were flying a plane in this weather, I’d have no problem, but the thought of being on a high-speed boat in the middle of this scares the hell out of me!”

Jax chuckled at that. Then he heard a moan from the backseat and looked back to see Brenda beginning to stir. “Chuck, go to the launch as soon as you’ve got our documents. We’ll meet you there as soon as we can, but we won’t leave for Eleuthera Island until this weather clears… Oh, and Chuck, I’m taking out the receiver and turning off the transmitter, so if you need to reach me, call my cell.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a few,” Chuck replied, then there was silence.

Jax pulled out the earpiece, once again slipping it into the pocket of his khakis, then pulled the sunglasses from his shirt pocket, lightly tapping the outside bridge of the glasses to turn off the transmitter, then he put them back into his shirt pocket once again.

He heard Brenda gasp then and looked into the rearview mirror to see her righting herself and looking desperately around her.

“Looking for this?” Jax asked, as he held up the gun he’d taken from her. He saw the color drain from her face.

“Wh - where are you taking me?” she asked, the fear in her voice palpable.

Jax felt a cold chill go through him, as his fears that she didn’t know him were just confirmed. He sighed, as he tried to decide how to handle this. He decided to play along with her for now, as if they were strangers. “You asked me to drive you out of town and that’s what I’m doing,” he replied evenly. “You just never bothered to tell me when to stop driving - although I did think I’d try to find a store to get some supplies to take care of that ankle of yours. It looks pretty bad, but I don’t think it’s broken.”

Brenda just stared at him, not sure what to think. Then she grabbed for her backpack and looked inside. Nothing was missing - all of the money was still there.

Jax had seen her grab for her bag. “I didn’t touch anything of yours - only your gun.” And you, he thought. “I won’t hurt you, I promise,” he added quietly, as he once again looked at her in the rearview mirror. I’d sooner kill myself than hurt you.

“Why are you helping me?” she asked quietly, still trying to figure out his angle.

“Because you look like you could use a little help,” Jax replied. Because I love you.

“I - I thought you had something important to do - someone to meet,” she replied, still unsure whether to trust him or not.

“Turns out the person I thought I’d be rescuing didn’t need my help after all,” Jax answered truthfully.

She threw him a puzzled look at that, but said nothing.

They drove in silence for several minutes, until Jax turned off the road and stopped the car.

“Why are you stopping?” she asked anxiously, pulling her backpack up so that it was between her and him as he turned around to face her. But then she looked at him - really looked at him for the first time since she’d gotten into the car - and she knew she had nothing to fear from this man. It was there in his face, in his eyes. He would never hurt her, could never hurt her. Somehow she just knew it.

He watched as she stared at him, and once again his hopes soared as he thought he saw a glint of recognition in her eyes as she stared at him, intently studying his face, looking into his eyes. But his heart fell again as that faint glint quickly disappeared.

“There’s a little store here,” Jax finally said, in answer to her question. “I’m going to see about getting some ice and an elastic bandage for your ankle. Aspirin, too.”

“Ummm… I have a couple of Ace wraps,” she offered, then immediately blushed as she realized she would have to take them off her chest in order to use them on her ankle.

He was about to ask why she had thought to pack something like that, when it dawned on him where she had “packed” them. “Okay… well, I’ll just get some ice and aspirin then,” he said, trying hard to suppress his smile. He started to get out of the car, but stopped as he saw that she was planning to open her door, too. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out,” was all she said, as she pushed the door open, zipping up her sweatshirt and pulling up her hood, then hoisting her backpack over her shoulder, before she tried unsuccessfully to stand on her good leg.

He was beside her in an instant, scooping her up and racing toward the front door of the little store, setting her down just inside, all before she could even protest. “That wasn’t too bright, trying to walk on rain slicked ground - unless you’re trying to twist your other ankle, too,” Jax scolded. “Just where did you think you were going?”

She glared at him for several seconds, ready to lambaste him for daring to pick her up like that, let alone scold her. He had no right to take liberties like that with her! But then she saw the genuine concern in his eyes and her anger quickly disappeared. Besides, she couldn’t afford to alienate this guy. He was being kind to her and she had the feeling she could trust him to help her get out of the country. “I need to use the bathroom - and I can manage to make it there just fine on my own!” she declared, as she pulled away from him and hopped toward the back of the store toward the sign that indicated where the public restrooms were.

“Oh,” was all Jax said, as he watched her determinedly make her way on her own through the little store. He smiled, as he realized that at least a couple of things about Brenda remained unchanged - her dogged determination and her stubborn independence.

Kirby Johnson was scared. In fact, he didn’t think he’d ever been so scared in all his life. Even all those years as a kid growing up in one of the toughest street gangs in Detroit, where he’d known that every day could very well be his last, he’d felt less terrified than he did at this very moment. He’d messed up, and he’d messed up but good!

He’d left gang life behind almost three years ago. Just days before his 21st birthday, he packed up and drove across country to LA, after a rap producer had seen him at a club in Detroit and had given him his card, telling him to look him up if he ever made it to LA because he had the look they wanted for their extras in rap videos. Besides, he also had the gang expertise, so he would add a touch of realism to the videos.

He’d gotten work almost immediately and worked steadily for nearly two years - even working as an extra in a Janet Jackson video. But then the jobs became fewer and fewer, and soon the pay wouldn’t cover even the barest of expenses, let alone the lavish lifestyle to which he’d grown very fond, and he faced having to return to Detroit with his tail between his legs. Then a friend suggested that someone with his size and buff build could easily get a well-paying job working private security for the rich and famous there in LA.

And his friend had been right. He’d been hired on the spot and given several weeks of intensive training. His first assignment had been to work security at a party thrown by Vincent Gardeno, a bigwig Hollywood producer. That had been an exciting night for Kirby, as he’d seen some of Hollywood’s biggest stars up close and personal at that party, but the best thing to come of that party had been meeting Armand Cordoba.

Mr. Cordoba, who’d been a special guest at the party, had noticed him and pulled him aside after the party and asked him if he’d be interested in working full-time for him. He explained that he would be one of two personal bodyguards - the other being Andrew Bergen, an ex-Marine - who would be assigned to provide protection for his fiancée, once she was out of the hospital after a recent accident. The job meant frequent trips to exotic locales on Cordoba’s private jet, his own apartment on Cordoba’s estate in the Bahamas, and paid triple what Kirby expected to pull in there in LA, even working overtime, so he’d jumped at the offer.

That had been a little over six months ago, and from then until now it had been a piece of cake. Shadowing Cordoba’s luscious fiancée, Veronica Devereaux, as she shopped or lolled by the pool, was like living a dream and getting paid for doing it. She could be willful and petulant with Cordoba, but she was never any trouble when she was out alone with Andrew and him, and she was the least trouble of all when she was allowed to accompany Hattie Winston here to the marketplace. She seemed to love watching Hattie, as well as the other people who crowded the marketplace each week, and Kirby enjoyed accompanying her because he loved watching a certain flower vendor’s daughter, who’d caught his eye just a few weeks ago and whom he’d hoped to ask out today. Unfortunately, it was his attention to that vendor’s daughter and his inattention to his charge that had gotten him into hot water now.

Mr. Cordoba had advised Andrew and him from the beginning that protecting Ms. Devereuax would be the most important job they would ever do while in his employ and he trusted that they would do that job well, even be willing to lay down their lives to keep her from harm, if need be. And he’d added a word of warning that nothing had better ever happen to her on their watch or they would regret it for the rest of their very short lives.

As both a gang member and a bodyguard, he’d faced some pretty formidable foes, but he’d never backed down and he’d never been beaten - until now. He was an imposing 6’4”, 240# of rock-hard muscle and most potential threats simply melted away at the sight of him. But today he’d somehow been bested by a mere wisp of a woman, and now he could see his entire life flashing before him as he desperately searched for her. He only prayed that he and the rest of the security team that he’d called in from the island could find her before he had to call Mr. Cordoba. Because he had no doubt that Mr. Cordoba had sincerely meant every word of his warning about that very short life…

As she finished washing her hands, she caught sight of herself in the mirror, gasping, as she barely recognized her own reflection. So much had happened in the past hour or so that she’d actually forgotten what she’d been forced to do to herself just to get away from Armand.

And she was certainly not completely away from Armand yet, not by any stretch of the imagination. His reach was extensive. As long as she stayed in the Bahamas, she knew that she was in danger of being found and dragged back to him by one of his lackeys, either on the street or on the police force. Even outside of this country, Armand Cordoba had a vast network of allies and associates who would gladly accept his considerable (and lucrative) gratitude for returning her to him. Of course, they’d have to recognize her first, and she doubted that even her own mother could do that at the moment - that is, if she even had a mother…

If she even had anyone out there for her…

She shook her head then, as she suddenly realized the foolhardiness of this entire thing. She had escaped Armand’s tyranny only to venture out into the unknown world to do what? Chase a dream? A possibly nonexistent dream, at that. Had she suddenly jumped out of the frying pan only to land smack dab in the very midst of the fire? She certainly hoped not because, like it or not, there was no turning back for her now. She had no idea what awaited her out here in the outside world, but she knew exactly what was waiting for her if she went back to Armand - a life of hopeless misery. And, as bad as that life had been before, she knew it would be a hundred times worse if she were forced to return to him now. So, she would simply do whatever she had to do to make sure that never happened.

Her thoughts then turned to the man waiting outside for her. Right now he seemed to be her best means of escaping the islands. And he seemed to be a kind man. After all, she had hijacked his car at gunpoint, even threatening to kill him, yet he hadn’t driven straight to the police once she’d passed out. Or he could have stolen her money, raped and killed her, then dumped her body by the side of the road. Instead, he simply took away her gun and then generously drove her here to get supplies to treat her ankle, gallantly (although not by invitation!) carrying her through the rain and inside. Certainly he’d agree to take her to the airport and even buy her a ticket, if she paid him for his time and his trouble.

Leaning against the tiny sink for support, she slipped off her sweatshirt and slid up her T-shirt to expose the Ace wraps binding her breasts. Carefully, she undid the pins that secured the wraps, then slowly rolled the bandages back on themselves as she removed them, finally placing the rolls into her backpack. She pulled her shirt back down, then took a deep breath, glad to be finally rid of the constrictive wrap. In her zeal to conceal her breasts, she had bound herself too tightly and it had quickly become very uncomfortable. That was probably one reason she’d passed out in the car. That, and the fact that she’d had very little to eat today, yet she’d drank so much caffeine that it was wreaking havoc with her heart rate.

Even now she felt a bit woozy, and she knew she needed to get something into her stomach quickly or she’d be in big trouble. Plus, she needed something to ease her pain - and she knew that aspirin and ice weren’t going to be enough to ease the pain. Unfortunately, this pain had very little to do with her ankle, which admittedly throbbed, especially using it as she was now to keep her balance. This pain - and likely a good bit of the dizziness, too - had more to do with her addiction to the pain medication she’d taken for the past several months than it did her newly injured ankle. And likely this pain was going to get far worse before it got better - if it didn’t kill her first.

She had been trying to ease herself off the pills for weeks now because she hated the way they made her feel. And one of the most wonderful benefits of fewer pills had been the dreams she’d begun having almost as soon as the drug-induced fog began to lift from her brain. She was down to just a couple a day now, after a high of 6 to 8 daily, but she’d had no intention of giving them up cold turkey. In fact, there had been almost 30 pills in the bottle she’d taken from Armand’s room last night, and she’d figured that would allow her to slowly give them up over a period of 2-3 weeks. That way her body could gradually adjust to having less and less of the medicine in her system. But any hope of gradual withdrawal had ended when she’d stupidly put the pills into her tote bag, rather than into her backpack.

How was she going to handle this on top of everything else - trying to get out of the country, trying to find her past, even just simply trying to walk? She was all alone, and now suddenly she just felt overwhelmed.

You’re not alone.

It was that same male voice she’d heard in her head earlier by the dumpster - Or was it? … No, it couldn’t be the same voice because now it had a distinctive accent and soundly strangely like the man waiting for her outside.

… Or had that voice always sounded like his? …

Impossible! How could she hear his voice in her head before she’d even met him! Oh god, was she hallucinating already? How could that be when she’d only gone a few hours without the pills? She closed her eyes and sighed. What was she going to be like after a few days without them?

I’ll help you through it, his voice rang in her head again.

She really was losing it! She shook her head then, grabbing at her temples and squeezing hard, trying to squeeze his voice out of her head. She let go. Nothing. Thank goodness! she thought, as she splashed cold water on her face, then patted it dry with a paper towel. It couldn’t be withdrawal already, she told herself; it was too soon. She just needed a little food and something to ease the pain - that was all. She’d be okay then…

At least for awhile…

At least until she was out of this country, out of Armand’s reach…

Otherwise, when she got really sick and was forced to hunker down in one spot and ride it out for a few days, she’d be easy prey for Armand and his flock of circling vultures. She could handle the withdrawal, she could even handle going through it alone, but she’d be damned if she was going to go through that kind of hell simply to end up in an even worse hell back with him. No, one way or another, she was getting far away from this place long before she got really sick.

She tucked the long tail of her T-shirt back into her jeans, then pulled on her sweatshirt, zipping it all the way up to cover the fact that she was braless. (What had she been thinking when she’d put her bra into her tote bag and not her backpack?) Then she grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder, as she prepared to go back outside to the car to convince him to help her leave the Bahamas.

And she was prepared to do whatever it took to convince him…

The rain stopped as suddenly as it had started, and once the sun came out again the air was instantly hot and sticky. Jax sat in the driver’s seat of his rental car, the door open, his feet on the ground, facing the front door of the store, sweating as he waited for Brenda to appear there. He was afraid to take his eyes off the store’s glass front door for even an instant, afraid that if he blinked, she would somehow run through the door and away from him before he could open his eyes again.

He knew that was a ridiculous fear on his part, given the fact that she could barely hobble at the moment, let alone run, but it was there nonetheless. He had spent two long years missing her, longing for her, chasing after her in his dreams. He’d had enough of being apart from her, and he was going to do everything in his power from this moment on to make sure they were never apart again. He just wondered how he would be able to convince her to fly away with him, then stay with him once they’d landed?

He’d just gotten off the phone with Chuck, who had managed to get all of their documents with very little hassle after he’d delivered Jax’s ultimatum. Chuck was on his way now to the launch and would be waiting for them when they arrived. He said that their supplier had a police scanner on and there was talk about a possible disappearance from the marketplace in Nassau, but there had been no specifics given. It also sounded to Chuck like the police were not viewing this as a kidnapping or giving it top priority yet. That was good because it gave them a little more breathing room now, which he’d need in order to convince her to go with him to the launch and then to the plane and out of the country with him and Chuck.

Besides, they were only a few kilometers from the cove where the launch was hidden, so he could afford to at least try to do this right. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her feel like he was kidnapping her - although he was fully prepared to do that if need be. But only as a last resort.

Suddenly he could see her head bobbing up and down inside the store as she slowly hopped her way through the store and to the front door. He was at the door in an instant, opening it for her as she came out. His first instinct was to gather her up in his arms again and carry her back to the car, but he resisted the urge. “Be careful. It’s pretty slick out here,” he said instead.

She didn’t know why but she couldn’t help but smile at that. She could see in his eyes that he had wanted to simply scoop her up again and carry her to the car, but he’d resisted the urge, offering a word of warning instead. He didn’t even know her, yet he already treated her with more respect than Armand ever had. Maybe convincing him to help her wouldn’t be as hard as she feared.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “I think I’ll be okay if I can just lean on you or hold onto your arm - something so that I don’t have to put any weight on my foot.”

“Sure, anything you need,” Jax smiled, glad that she seemed to be warming to him a little. “Of course, this might be a lot easier and a lot less messy if you’d just let me get you back to the car the same way I got you here,” he grinned, winking at her as he held his arm out for her, allowing her to decide whether to hold onto it and hop through the mud or let him carry her again and avoid the mud altogether.

She hesitated for a moment, as she looked at the puddles between the store and the car. The man did have a point…

“Okay,” she conceded grudgingly, “but only because I don’t want my foot possibly dangling in the mud.”

Jax laughed softly. Memory or not, she was still his stubborn Brenda. He scooped her up again and carried her to the car, sidestepping puddles as he went. “There,” he said, as he gently set her into the backseat once again. “If you’ll just scoot over a little, you can put your right leg up on the seat and I can take care of wrapping that ankle for you,” he offered.

He saw her hesitate again, but she finally nodded, slipping her backpack off her shoulder and setting it onto the floor, then slid across the length of the backseat, as he helped her lift her leg onto the seat in front of her. He grabbed the aspirin he’d just bought and handed it to her, along with a cold bottled water. “You’d better take a couple of these right away,” he instructed, then he took ahold of her foot, moving it gently as he checked for a possible break, which made her wince loudly. “Sorry,” he apologized, “but it couldn’t be helped… Good news is that it doesn’t appear to be broken, which means a good Ace wrap, some ice, and the use of crutches - or someone to carry you -” He grinned at her broadly. “ - for a few days should help it heal… The bad news is that it’s a very bad sprain, and sometimes they can be even more trouble than an actual break.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, worried how this would affect her travel plans. She had to get out of here fast.

“Well, most people tend to respect an actual break, staying off of it and giving it the time it needs to heal,” he said, as she handed him one of the Ace wraps and he began to carefully wrap her ankle. “But they seem to take a sprain less seriously and try to do too much too soon on it, risking re-injury before the area’s had time to heal properly.” He finished wrapping it, then pinned the end of the elastic bandage to hold it securely in place. “How’s that feel?” he asked, looking up to see her staring at him intently. “Is it too tight?” he asked, set to loosen it immediately.

“No… no, it feels fine…”

His heart skipped a beat again. Was she remembering him? Is that why she’s staring at me? he wondered. “Then, what?” he asked, his heart in his throat. Tell me I seem familiar to you... Tell me you think you know me… Tell me something that lets me know you feel a connection to me…

“I was just wondering if you were a doctor,” she replied, hoping for a possible way to score some stronger pain medication so she could avoid going cold turkey now; disappointed when he laughed and shook his head no. “Oh,” she replied, trying to hide her disappointment. “You just seemed to know what you were doing,” she added as explanation.

“I’ve just had my share of sprains and broken bones,” he smiled, as he gently placed the small bag of ice on her wrapped ankle.

“Me, too,” she replied quietly, almost imperceptibly.

But Jax heard her and his heart broke, as he thought about the accident and the hell she must have gone through in recovery. How had she even managed to survive, let alone come back whole again? He was about to ask how she’d been hurt now and in the past when his stomach growled - very loudly. “Guess I’m a little hungry,” he laughed. He glanced down at his watch. “Well, it is after noon - I’ll run back in and see what they have in the way of food. I don’t think they sell sandwiches, but I think I saw some snack items,” he offered, smiling brightly.

“That’s not necessary - at least not for me,” she replied, wondering why this man continued to be so kind to her? He was simply amazing - and so very different from Armand. Armand had punished her for every little petulant outburst she’d ever had with him; yet, this man was taking care of her sprained ankle and offering to buy her lunch - and after she’d held a gun to his head, for heaven’s sake!

“Actually, I have a couple of croissants… if you’d like one,” she smiled shyly, pulling the napkin containing the pilfered breads out of her backpack. She couldn’t believe she was offering to share Hattie’s wonderful croissants with a total stranger. She couldn’t remember ever offering to share anything with Armand the entire time they were together. What was it about this man that made her feel so comfortable?

He smiled at her offer. “Thanks, I’d like that,” he said warmly, as he took one of the breads from the open napkin. He was moved that she wanted to share with him. Her conscious mind might not know him, but somewhere deep inside her she evidently recognized him because she had warmed to him considerably in the past few minutes. She even appeared almost comfortable with him. That gave him hope that eventually she would remember everything, and most especially she’d remember the love between them.

He’d just have to think of a way to spark those memories… Maybe if they were properly “introduced”…

“So, do you have a name?” Jax casually asked. “First name only, if it would make you feel more comfortable,” he added, as he sat in the driver’s seat and turned around to face her.

Silence, as she simply stared at him, unsure how to answer that. Do I have a name? I don’t know… I mean, I have the name that Armand says is mine, but is Veronica Devereaux really who I am? It never really felt right to me, but then again, nothing with Armand ever felt right to me… And if I give him that name - Veronica Devereaux - could it somehow lead to Armand finding me - even inadvertently?…

Jax mistook her silence as mistrust, so he decided to go first; possibly build her trust - or strike a spark of recognition in her. “Okay, well, I’ll go first - My name is Jax.”

“Jax?” she repeated, a slight smile curling her lips, and he felt his heart skip a beat again, certain that the floodgates had opened and she would remember everything now. But her next words made him realize that was not going to happen. “What kind of a name is Jax?”

But still, he couldn’t help but smile because she was still as candid as ever, saying exactly what was on her mind. Yet another thing about her that was unchanged… “It’s short for Jasper, actually,” he explained.

She let out a snicker at that. “I understand now why you go by Jax!” she laughed softly. “Did your parents hate you or something?”

He laughed, too, thrilled to hear her laughter again, even if it was at his expense. “Well, I always thought that my older brother named me that because he wasn’t happy to share Mum and Dad, but actually, it’s a family name - I was named after a favorite uncle of my mother’s,” he explained.

She was embarrassed now. “I shouldn’t have laughed,” she apologized. “I’m sorry -Jasper is a fine name.”

“You think you’re sorry? I’m the one who’s been stuck with that name all my life!” he laughed, which brought another trill of laughter from her.

They sat smiling at one another, eating their croissants, as she tried to figure out this man. There was something about him that made her feel comfortable with him, like they’d known each other forever. He made her feel safe at her very core; a feeling that had eluded her with Armand. But she felt like she could trust Jax with everything and he would never betray her to Armand or to anyone else.

Yet, there was a part of her telling her to tread lightly here; not to divulge more than she absolutely had to in order to get what she needed: his help getting off the islands. You can tell him your real name later, once you’re surer of him; for now, simply make up a name.

“Julia - my name is Julia,” she finally said, wondering why that name had just suddenly popped into her head and why it seemed so familiar?

Jax stared at her, momentarily surprised by her choice of name for herself - that of her only sister. Was that just a fluke - a random name pulled from thin air - or were connections with her past being made inside that beautiful head of hers? Finally, he smiled and said, “Julia is a beautiful name. I have a very good friend whose name is Julia, so it’ll be easy for me to remember.”

“Is she your girlfriend - this Julia?” she blurted out suddenly, surprising both herself and Jax. Why on earth had she asked that? she wondered. It was certainly none of her business. She didn’t need to know his dating history; she simply needed to know if he could get her to the airport. But there was something deep inside her that seemed to be anxiously anticipating his answer, as if it were important to her to know.

“No,” he laughed, “she’s more like a sister to me… I’m very much in love with her sister, though,” he added, and he watched as her face seemed to fall at that. Was that a hint of jealousy there? he wondered, once again feeling hope that she was feeling some emotions toward him, even if it was misplaced jealousy.

“Oh,” was all she said, but she felt an uncomfortable twinge of possessiveness stir within her that she neither understood nor liked. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this way before - certainly not with Armand. If anything, she’d been relieved when he’d had other women - and he’d been her fiancé. But she barely knew Jax. Why should she care if he’s in love or not?

She shouldn’t. It was irrational, and she couldn’t afford to be irrational now. She had to keep her eyes on her goal here: getting this man - Jax - to help her leave the islands. And she supposed there was no better time to ask that than the present, especially considering that the longer she remained on the island, the more likely it was that someone on Armand’s payroll would find her.

“I know that I have no right to ask any favors of you, Jax…” she began, and he smiled, loving hearing his name rolling off her lips again. “Especially since I kidnapped you at gunpoint and even threatened to shoot you if you didn’t cooperate… And you’ve already done so much for me - wrapping my ankle for me… offering to feed me… not having me arrested… You have every right to hate me for disrupting your life like this, but instead you’ve been nice to me… Nicer than I can remember anyone ever being to me…” her voice trailed off then wistfully.

Jax felt his heart break at the sadness and regret in her voice, then he was instantly angry at Armand Cordoba for evidently making her life such a nightmare that she preferred running to the unknown over staying with him.

She saw the anger in Jax’s face at Cordoba’s mistreatment of her and mistook it for anger at her. “I’m sorry! I really am, but I did what I had to do!” she tried to explain. “I was just desperate to get off the islands - I still am - which is why I did what I did and why I’m asking you to help me now… Look, I have money,” she continued, reaching into her bag and pulling out a stack of hundred-dollar bills. “I’ll pay you whatever you want - You can even have it all if you want -” She thrust the entire backpack at him then. “ - I just need to leave here now, and I can’t do it on my own!” she pleaded, tears stinging her eyes, as she tried hard to convince him to help her.

It didn’t take any convincing at all. Jax had every intention of helping her leave the island. In fact, he’d been trying to think of a way to convince her to go with him when she’d made her sudden, unexpected request of him. “I won’t take your money,” he began and he saw her face fall again and he realized she thought he was turning her down, so he quickly added: “But I will help you leave the country.”

“You will? - And you don’t want anything at all for that?” She was astonished. She’d never met anyone like Jax before. In Armand’s world everything had a price and nothing was offered without expecting something in return.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want anything in return,” he clarified. “I just don’t want your money; I want answers instead.”

“Answers?” She was puzzled now. “What kind of answers?”

“I guess I really only want one answer, but it’s to a very important question: How do you know you can trust me to help you get away and not simply take your money and leave you stranded somewhere, possibly dead - or worse?” Tell me it’s because you know me… that you know I love you… that you know you love me… his heart prayed.

She was caught off guard by his question, and she stared at him for a moment, not sure she could explain this feeling she had about him to herself, let alone to him. She couldn’t remember ever feeling this way about anyone - this kinship she felt with this man, this stranger. And it was so unbelievably strong.

She wasn’t sure what to call this feeling - trust, perhaps? Yes, that was it. She trusted this man. For some odd reason, she knew that he would never hurt her in any way and that he would help her in every way he could. She knew very little about herself or the world at this moment, but the one thing she did know was that she could trust this man with her life.

“I don’t know,” she finally replied softly. “I just do.”

It was not exactly what Jax had hoped for, but it was honestly more than he’d expected. She trusted him and that was a start. That meant that somewhere deep inside her she still felt a connection to him. It was visceral and instinctive, but it was their love in its most rudimentary form. She might not recognize it yet, but she would, in time.

As much as he wanted to tell her who she was and who he was to her and what they were to each other, then wrap his arms around her and show her his love for her, he knew that he couldn’t do that. Not now - possibly not for some time to come. But that time would come eventually.

She already trusted him, even though she couldn’t understand why she trusted him. Trust was the basis for any lasting love - and theirs was a love that would last forever. Even an accident so terrible that it had taken Brenda away from him for two years and robbed her mind of any conscious memory of her identity and her past had evidently been unable to steal away the seeds of their love from her heart. And as long as those seeds were there, he would do what he could to nurture them until they finally blossomed into the love that he already knew and that she would eventually remember. He just had to be patient with her and allow her to get there on her own. But he could still offer gentle nudges in the right direction along the way.

Jax smiled and nodded then. “I can get you out of the country and I can do it quickly, but you have to trust me completely and not question anything I do or say from this point on.”

“I do - I will!” she promised. “Anything, as long as I get away from here as soon as possible!”

“Well, then, fasten your seatbelt because we’re out of here now,” Jax replied, as he turned around and started the engine, then pulled out onto the road.

She watched as they headed in the same direction as before. Unable to keep quiet, she asked: “Ummm… I know I promised not to question anything from this point on, but isn’t the airport in the other direction - back toward Nassau?”

Jax couldn’t help but smile. Yet another Brenda trait in tact: her need to question everything, even after she promised not to. “I said I’d get you out of the country and I will,” he replied. “I just never said how I planned to do that. Like I said, you’re just going to have to trust me on this.”

“Okay,” she replied quietly. She gave a deep sigh and leaned back in the seat as she tried to relax.

She trusted him - she really did. In fact, she trusted him more than she’d ever trusted anyone before. But it wasn’t trust - or even lack of it - that was making her feel so uneasy now; it was her guilt for involving him in all of this.

She knew she could never escape on her own, especially after spraining her ankle as she had. And it had been her plan to manipulate him into helping, but that was before he was so nice to her and she connected with him in this inexplicable way. Now her fear for his safety was weighing heavily on her conscience. For some reason, she genuinely liked this man and she cared what happened to him. And she had no doubt that if Armand somehow managed to learn that Jax had helped her in any way at all, let alone to the extent that he was involved now, he would hunt him down and kill him.

Armand had his moments in which he could be gentle and charming, but he could also be extremely dangerous when crossed. He’d undoubtedly see Jax’s involvement in this as complicity, no matter how unfair that assumption was. After all, she had dragged the poor man into this when she’d hidden in his car, then held him at gunpoint. Since then Jax had agreed to help her, but that was only after she’d already involved him. It wasn’t like he’d been in on this from the beginning. But Armand wouldn’t make that distinction. He’d go after Jax full force.

She knew there was no way to stop all of this now, but she at least owed Jax the courtesy of letting him know what he’d gotten himself into. Forewarned is forearmed, and Jax could watch his back if she warned him about Armand. She wouldn’t tell him everything, but she would at least tell him enough that he could protect himself by laying low for a little while.

She felt the car pull off the road, and she looked up so see Jax drive down an embankment and finally come to a stop behind a clump of bushes in the middle of nowhere. She suddenly felt frozen with fear, as she realized that they were isolated and hidden from any passersby on the road. Had she been wrong about him? Was that his game - to lull her into trusting him, then take her to some out-of-the way place and do her in?

Where’s my gun? she panicked, as she watched him pick up a gym bag beside him and open the door to get out. As he lifted the bag she could see her gun on the seat beneath it. It looked like he’d forgotten about it. She could grab the gun as he was getting out of the car! But her heart fell as she saw him reach back into the car and pick up the gun, then drop it into the gym bag and zip it closed. That puzzled her; if he planned to assault or kill her, why would he put the gun into the bag? Wouldn’t he use it against her?

She looked up then to see another man emerge from further down the hillside and race to the car, just as Jax opened the back door to get her.

“It’s about time you got here!” the man shouted, as he clapped Jax on the back. “We really need to get moving!”

“First things first, Chuck,” Jax said, nodding toward Brenda to let Chuck know that he wanted him to stop talking before he said something Brenda might not understand. “Chuck, I’d like you to meet ‘Julia’. She’d like to hitch a ride with us out of the Bahamas as soon as possible - if that’s okay with you.”

Chuck bent over to peer into the backseat at Brenda, momentarily surprised at how different she looked now than she had just hours ago at the marketplace. It was a good thing she’d jumped out of that window and hurt her ankle and took refuge in Jax’s car because he doubted that Jax or he would have known her looking like this had she simply walked past them at the marketplace. “Nice to meet you, Julia,” he smiled warmly, extending his right hand to her to shake. She hesitated only slightly, then smiled and shook his hand as he added: “And you’re more than welcome to come along, if you don’t mind the less-than-first-class accommodations. Jax and I are a couple of guys in a hurry, too, and we’re not picky how we leave the islands,” he winked, which made her laugh.

Her fears quickly dissolved, and she suddenly felt very comfortable again. She understood now why Jax had driven the car so far from view of the road and why he didn’t hesitate to agree to get her out of the country quickly as long as she promised not to ask any questions. He was on the run, too - most likely just one step ahead of the law. This was perfect - he was leaving the Bahamas and would probably not be returning any time soon. That meant it would be harder for Armand to locate Jax, even if someone somehow identified him as helping her.

“I don’t care about first-class accommodations. At this point, I don’t care if you box me up and FedEx me out of here. I just need to leave now!” she laughed, instantly liking this Chuck.

“Well, if we don’t get moving, we may all have to resort to that!” Chuck urged, as he and Jax helped Brenda out of the car. He took a look at her bandaged ankle and shook his head. “The launch is only about 100 yards from here, but it’s downhill all the way and the ground is pretty uneven, so there’s no way you’re gonna be able to walk, Julia - not on that ankle,” he pointed out.

Jax looked at her and held out his arms and she nodded. He handed Chuck the gym bag, and then he picked Brenda up and followed Chuck down the steep hill to the hidden cove below, where the launch was loaded and waiting for them. He carefully set Brenda down on one of the bench seats, then he and Chuck pushed it out into deeper water, then jumped in themselves.

“Here, put this on,” Jax instructed, as he handed Brenda a life vest, and he and Chuck put on theirs, too.

“How far are we going in this?” she asked apprehensively, as she slid the vest over her sweatshirt and fastened it securely. “I mean, you’re not seriously going to try for the States in this, are you?”

“No, just Eleuthera Island,” Jax laughed, as he started the engine and they quickly sped out to sea. “We have a plane waiting for us there.”

She nodded, saying a silent prayer of thanks as she watched Nassau Island grow smaller and smaller as they got further and further away. Thankfully, Eleuthera Island was several hours from Armand’s island and on the opposite side of Nassau, so she was actually getting some distance between her and the place she had called home for the better part of a year now.

Not that Armand’s island had ever felt like a home to her. Because “home” conjured up images of a warm and welcoming place filled with love and laughter. She had found none of that living with Armand. But something inside her made her believe that she had a real home out there somewhere and it had been warm and wonderful just like she imagined and would be again, once she found it.

She turned around then to face in the direction in which they were headed, smiling happily because, for the first time that she could remember, she felt like she was really going home…