The trip from Nassau Island to Eleuthera Island took just under an hour, then the trip by car to the landing strip another twenty minutes, and by just past 3 that afternoon they were finally boarding the plane to leave the Bahamas.

“Ummm… is it too late to be FedExed out of here?” Brenda joked, as Jax helped her aboard the rickety-looking cargo plane his father had secured for them.

Jax had asked for a plane that looked well used and unlike anything that a millionaire would be using for a quick commute, and this one definitely fit the bill. It was at least 30 years old and had seen better days, but, despite its appearance, it was still sound for flying. It actually belonged to Tim Henson, an old friend of Chuck’s, who’d recently retired to south Florida after being a commercial pilot for two decades. Tim had bought the plane at auction for a song and had gone over every square inch of it with a fine tooth comb, in the hope of eventually starting a small transport company with it. And the considerable sum that John had paid him to deliver the plane here, no questions asked, had definitely made that dream a whole lot closer to reality.

“Are you sure this thing is safe?” she wondered, as Jax and she found their way to the only seats in the back - two jump seats that faced backwards.

“Absolutely!” Jax declared, as he made sure her seatbelt/harness was securely fastened, then fastened his own. But as Chuck turned on the engines and the plane began to shake considerably, he amended that. “Well, I’m pretty sure…” he laughed, and she smiled nervously at him. “Don’t worry,” he added, smiling reassuringly, “Chuck’s the best pilot around.”

“Well, it’s not his skills that are worrying me - it’s what he’s got to work with…” she replied skeptically, as she leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. “If this thing goes down, please let me die this time,” she prayed quietly. She couldn’t end up in some hospital where Armand could possibly find her. She’d rather be dead than return to that man.

Jax had heard what she’d said and once again his heart broke, as he thought about the hell she must have gone through after her accident. He wanted to ask her about what she’d just said, but he realized she’d whispered her words as a prayer, and he felt it was an intrusion to ask now. There would be time later to find out everything about the accident - and especially how she came to be with Armand Cordoba in the first place.

Just then Chuck’s voice came over the intercom: “You two better be strapped in ‘cause we’re ready to roll!” Then the engines roared as the plane began rolling faster and faster down the runway, finally gaining enough speed to lift off - just barely - above the tree-lined horizon. Both Brenda and Jax heaved a sigh of relief then, with Brenda especially grateful to see the island grow smaller and smaller beneath them, since it meant she was finally leaving the Bahamas. And if she had her way she’d never return.

After several minutes of just watching her stare pensively out the window at the water passing below, Jax finally asked: “So, Julia, are you going to tell me now why you were in such a hurry to leave paradise?”

“One man’s paradise is another man’s hell - or woman’s, in this case,” she replied cryptically, never breaking her gaze out the window.

Jax felt an immediate hatred for Cordoba, and he knew that if they ever came face to face he could easily kill the man with his bare hands for what he’d evidently put Brenda through. But he hid that anger from Brenda as he innocently asked: “Who made life so miserable there for you?”

Silence.

“Boyfriend? Husband? Lover?” Jax prodded, hoping to find out exactly how she had defined her relationship with Armand Cordoba. The doorman in Paris had called her Cordoba’s fiancée, as had the attendant in the private lounge at the airport there, but Jax wanted to know how she saw herself.

She looked at him then, deciding now was as good a time as any to tell Jax about Armand - and warn him that Armand would likely come after him if he ever learned that he’d helped her escape. “Armand Cordoba, my fiancé - and he can be a very dangerous man when he’s crossed. But to set the record straight, he’s never physically hurt me, if that’s what you were thinking,” she began, which did ease Jax’s mind a little - but only a little. “But he was very controlling, and I had very little freedom or privacy with him. He claimed he loved me, but his actions rarely proved that.”

He suddenly realized that the similarities between Sonny Corinthos and Armand Cordoba went far beyond physical features. They had both treated Brenda horribly, despite claiming to love her enough to marry her. “If he was such a monster, why did you agree to marry him?” Jax asked pointedly.

“I don’t know… I mean, I don’t actually remember agreeing to marry him,” she said, but, as she reached inside her sweatshirt to pull out her ring, which was still on the chain, she added: “But I evidently did because I have this, and he says he gave it to me.”

Jax felt the hatred - which he’d managed to hide from Brenda earlier - rising to the surface again, as he realized that Cordoba had claimed Jax’s ring as his own in convincing Brenda they were engaged. But he continued to hide that hatred, listening patiently to Brenda’s explanation, as if he were a stranger instead of the man she was really meant to marry. “What do you mean: you don’t remember agreeing to marry him?”

“I have amnesia,” she said bluntly, then sighing, as she realized how fantastic all of this probably sounded to a stranger like Jax. “I was in an accident about two years ago - boating accident off the coast of Canada, according to what I’ve been told. Anyway, I was badly hurt - lots of broken bones, internal injuries, and I was in a coma for over a year. The doctors never expected me to come out of the coma, let alone recover fully, as I did - Well, I recovered physically, at least… When I came out of the coma, I had no idea who Armand was or who I was, for that matter. I had no memories of anything before waking up at that very moment in the hospital.”

“And no memories have returned since then?” Jax asked, probing to see what she did remember.

“No - maybe… I’m not sure…” she hedged. “In the past few weeks I’ve been having these vivid dreams, and there are times when I’m sure they’re actual memories of my past. But they’re only bits and pieces - and even then they aren’t clear. And despite the fact that I feel sure that I’m with the man I love in these dreams, I have yet to see his face or hear his voice. But I’m always left with this incredible joy and completeness after one of these dreams… a feeling that I am loved completely and unconditionally… That’s the same feeling I’ve always felt whenever I’ve touched this ring - and those are the only times I’ve ever felt that way. Armand told me often enough that he loved me and that I was his life, but I never truly felt loved by him - not the way I do in these dreams and when I touch this ring…” She closed her eyes and smiled as she held the ring tightly in her hand, with her hand against her heart.

Jax smiled then also, as he realized she still felt connected to him and their love through that ring, and that gave him even more hope that she could regain her memory, given enough time and the right stimulus. But her next words told him she still had her doubts.

“I don’t know…” she added, her eyes still closed, her hand still holding the ring against her heart, “it may very well turn out that Armand is the man in my dreams and the one who put this ring on my finger, and my feelings toward him simply changed - maybe the accident destroyed my ability to love when it took away my memory.”

“And maybe Armand Cordoba isn’t that man and you should trust your feelings,” Jax replied quietly.

She opened her eyes and looked at him sharply. “So, you don’t think I’m crazy for leaving the only life I’ve known to chase after a dream?”

He shook his head and smiled. “Take it from someone who’s spent the past couple of years chasing after a dream - sometimes you actually get lucky enough to find it… But you have to keep believing in that dream and never give up on finding it.”

She nodded. “But even if it really is my past I’ve been dreaming about, it’ll probably be nearly impossible to find… I mean, I don’t even know my own name, let alone where I came from or who it is I’ve been dreaming about,” she sighed, once again questioning the wisdom of all this.

It’s me! he wanted to shout. I’m the man you’ve been dreaming about… The man who put that ring on your finger… The man who wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms and love you again… But aloud he said: “It’ll be a big job, but doable, if you know where to look - and you don’t try to do it alone.”

She understood immediately what he was offering. “That’s very sweet of you, Jax,” she smiled, “but I can’t involve you in this any more than I already have-”

“Even if I want to be involved?” he interrupted, his tone suddenly sharp.

She was taken aback by the frustration and anger in his tone. He was a stranger - one she’d found at random and hijacked at gunpoint, no less. Why was it so important to him to continue helping her?

He regretted his tone the minute the words left his mouth. He saw the bewilderment in her eyes, as she wondered why he’d reacted as he had. God, how he wanted to just tell her that she didn’t have to look any further for her past - he was it! But he knew that he couldn’t. It probably would be too much for her. And she probably wouldn’t believe him anyway.

And why should she? After all, it was almost freaky the way fate had thrown them back together like this, after keeping them apart for so long. To tell her now that he was the man in her past and that he’d been there to rescue her from Cordoba, when she had randomly chosen his car to hide in and then enlisted him in her escape plan, would be impossible for her to believe. He barely believed it himself, and he knew the truth of it all. No, she could never accept it, and it would probably destroy whatever trust she did feel for him.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I just know that this is a pretty big undertaking under the best of circumstances, and it’s certainly not something that anyone should try to tackle all alone, without some sort of support system. Besides, there are a lot of people out there who would be more than willing to take your money to help you find out who you are, but they’d have no intention of ever delivering on that promised help. You need someone you can trust to help you sort out who is and isn’t trustworthy.”

She arched an eyebrow and gave him a half-smile. “Ahhh… and that someone would be you…”

“Well, you said yourself that you trusted me,” he grinned, his eyes twinkling.

She sighed and smiled, warmed by his concern and overwhelmed by his generosity. Jax was a good man; there was no doubt about that. She knew that he wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of her, yet she knew that she couldn’t take advantage of him by allowing him to help her. And it wouldn’t just be money he’d be losing in this; he could very well lose his life if Armand found out. She had already asked enough of him. She couldn’t ask this, too. It would be best for him if they parted ways as soon as they landed.

“I do trust you, Jax…” she began, reaching out and taking his hand in hers. The warmth that surged instantly through her startled her, and she momentarily lost her train of thought as she stared at their hands. She’d rarely touched Armand, and when she had it had felt foreign and forced. Holding Jax’s hand like this felt “right” to her, like something she did all the time. Why was that, she wondered?

Jax watched a look of confusion cloud Brenda’s face as she stared at their joined hands, and he realized that this simple act - her taking his hand in hers - had evidently brought back something to her, possibly a memory or simply a feeling. Whatever it was, it meant that she was remembering and she would likely continue to remember as long as they were together. Not that he had any intention of leaving her at this point, but this made it even more imperative for him to convince her to let him “help” her research her past. If she felt coerced into staying with him, she might feel trapped and unconsciously resist the natural flow of memories.

Flustered, she pulled her hand away from his and held her hands together on her lap as she began again. “I do trust you, but this has nothing to do with trust,” she continued, trying to push out of her mind the incredible way she had felt when she’d held his hand. “My fiancé is a very jealous man, Jax, and he’s also a very dangerous man, especially when he feels he’s been crossed, as I’ve crossed him - and as he will undoubtedly see anyone who has helped me along the way. I’ve already put your life in enough danger by involving you as I have. Even hiding in your car and then forcing you to drive me away from the marketplace was enough to make you a marked man in Armand’s book. Now, add to that the fact that you’ve willingly given me safe passage out of the country…” Her voice trailed off. “But if we split up after we land and you keep a low profile for awhile, I think you’ll be safe - at least, I hope you will be…” she added, the concern for him evident in her tone.

“Listen, Julia,” Jax said, taking her hand in his this time and watching as he saw that same look of confusion come over her, “I can take care of myself. I’ve been in more than a few tight jams in my lifetime, and I’ve managed to escape each and every one of them with my head and neck still firmly attached to my shoulders.”

She cocked her head and studied his face. “Yeah, you do look like you could probably charm your way out of most anything,” she conceded. “But I can guarantee that your charm won’t work on Armand. He’d take one look at how handsome you are and be instantly jealous - and he’s really dangerous when he’s jealous. He wouldn’t even let you try to explain anything. He’d simply look at you and assume…”

“Assume what?” Jax asked, trying to suppress his smile that she’d called him handsome. Even looking as scruffy as he did now, she still thought he was handsome.

“Assume - wrongly - that there’s something between us,” she replied, but even as she said the words, they felt wrong to her somehow. In her head she knew there was nothing between them. After all, they’d only known each other for a matter of a few hours, and it certainly hadn’t been under the best of circumstances, let alone the most romantic of circumstances. Yet, there was something there… this feeling that seemed to be between them…

No, it couldn’t be… She was imagining it… She had to be…

But still, she’d never felt anything like this before…

Except in her dreams…

She felt a cold chill go through her then and her heart begin to race uncontrollably, and she shuddered involuntarily.

“Are you okay?” Jax asked, instantly concerned as he watched her suddenly grow pale and shiver.

She forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine - just a little cold and tired, that’s all.” No, she thought, I’m not okay-I’m having irrational feelings about you. “And my ankle’s beginning to throb again,” she added, which was the truth, but not what was truly bothering her. But she didn’t want to think about that.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jax apologized. “I should have thought to put that foot up on something…” He unfastened his harness and grabbed for one of the sleeping bags that was stowed in the cargo harness to the side. “Here,” he said, placing the rolled bag in front of her and gently lifting her right leg and placing her foot down on the bag, “how’s that?”

“Better, thanks,” she smiled. But it only makes these feelings for you stronger.

“Too bad we left the ice pack back in the car,” he smiled. “It would have probably been mostly water by now, but it still would have been better than nothing.”

“That’s okay,” she smiled, carefully avoiding looking at him as she spoke. “I’ll be fine. I think I’m going to just lean back and try to get some rest now - it’s been a long day,” she added, closing her eyes as she leaned her head back against the seat, hoping to close off these unfathomable feelings she was having toward him by distancing herself as best she could from him.

“Would you be more comfortable lying down?” he asked, thinking she didn’t look very comfortable like that. “There’s a couple more sleeping bags here, and I could spread them out on the floor for you - not exactly the best bed around, but still better than trying to sleep like that.”

“No, this is fine,” she replied curtly, not bothering to open her eyes. I just need a little distance from you. You make me feel all these things that don’t make sense, and I can’t handle that now. Please go away.

Jax felt like she was dismissing him, and he tried not to take it personally because he knew she had no memory of him, but still it stung a little. “Well, I’ll be in the cockpit if you need anything,” he said, and she nodded as he turned and walked to the cockpit door.

“How’s she doing?” Chuck asked, as Jax walked into the cockpit, shutting the door behind him, then sat down in the co-pilot’s seat.

“Resting,” Jax answered quietly, as he glanced briefly at the gauges on the control panel to see how fast and how high they were flying, then fixed his stare out the windshield somberly.

“Understandable - she’s had quite the day,” Chuck observed, then he glanced over to see the frown on Jax’s face. “What’s up? I thought you’d be on top of the world right about now - you’ve got Brenda back and the two of you have your whole lives together ahead of you again.”

“Oh, I’m thrilled to have her back,” Jax replied, as he continued to stare out the window.

“Well, you could have fooled me with that long face of yours,” Chuck pointed out.

“I’m just worried about Brenda, that’s all,” Jax sighed wearily. “She had warmed to me considerably over the past few hours, and I really thought she was remembering me on some level, but she now seems to be holding me at arm’s length again, like she did at first.”

“Then why are you up here with me, instead of back there charming the girl into remembering you?” Chuck goaded.

“Because she doesn’t want me near her,” Jax grumbled.

“That’s not the vibe I got from her when I was with the two of you,” Chuck pointed out.

“Well, you weren’t back there with us just now!” Jax shot back angrily, then he softened. “I’m sorry, Chuck,” he apologized, “I’m not mad at you…”

“Just the situation,” Chuck finished for him. “Hey, I understand completely, pal. This has got to be hard for you - having Brenda with you, yet not being able to acknowledge to her who she is or what she means to you… But look at it from her point of view, Jax: she doesn’t know you from Adam, yet it looked to me like she was feeling something toward you, like you’re familiar to her. That has to be hard for her to understand and is probably confusing the hell out of her.

“Then, on top of that,” he continued, “add in everything she’s been through today - the escape, hurting her ankle when she jumped from that window, hijacking you, and now flying out of the country in a rickety tin can with two ne’er-do-wells like us,” he added with a grin, “and it’s a wonder the girl is still sane… Don’t take any of this personally, Jax… She’s been through a lot and she faces even more - This has to be a scary experience for her, and she probably is just trying to get her bearings. Give her some time and a little space.”

“That’s the problem,” Jax replied, “she wants too much space. In fact, she wants to take off on her own once we’ve landed - for my safety, she said.”

“Your safety? Oh… from Cordoba, in retaliation for ‘helping’ her,” Chuck nodded. “Well, she must be feeling something for you if she’s concerned what Cordoba might do to you,” he pointed out.

“Brenda’s a compassionate woman. She’d probably feel the same about any Joe Blow she’d involved in this escape of hers,” Jax muttered.

“I disagree,” Chuck argued. “Not about Brenda being compassionate - because she is - but about the part where she’d feel the same about anyone she’d involved in this.” When Jax threw him a puzzled look, he continued: “What about the Big Guy? Do you think she’s in there now agonizing about the Big Guy’s fate? … ‘Cause you and I both know that Cordoba’s not going to be thrilled to return home to find Brenda missing, with the Big Guy the one who lost her. And she’s got to know that, too. But she probably also realizes that the Big Guy had to be sacrificed in order for her to get away. It was either her or him, and she rightly chose self-preservation. But she knows that Cordoba is going to take out his anger on the Big Guy, but she’s not worrying about that,” he pointed out.

“Now, with you, it’s basically the same situation - she needed your help in order to escape the marketplace and now the country - but the difference is that she is worried about what happens with you, despite the fact that, from the standpoint of her conscious mind, she’s known the Big Guy a heck of a lot longer than she’s known you. You’d think she’d see the possible consequences to you simply as collateral damage, too, like with the Big Guy, but she evidently doesn’t. And that has to be because she’s feeling something meaningful toward you, Jax,” he concluded, glancing over at Jax to see if any of that had sunk in.

“You’re probably right,” Jax conceded. “And I guess deep down I knew that all along. It’s just that this is not the way I expected our reunion to go,” he groused.

“What did you expect - the two of you running through a field of wildflowers into each other’s arms?” Chuck teased, grinning as he once again glanced over at Jax.

Jax couldn’t help but laugh as he looked at Chuck sheepishly and replied: “Something like that… And certainly not what’s happening now - I mean, the amnesia and all… But she does seem to be responding a little when we touch… She took my hand to make a point and she got the strangest look on her face, then she seemed to forget what she was going to say. She dropped my hand like it was a hot potato or something, and when she went on talking after that she made sure not to touch me at all. So I took her hand in mine then, and she got that same look on her face again, which makes me think she’s actually remembering my touch.”

“As if any woman could ever forget your touch,” Chuck whispered breathily, then burst out laughing.

That made Jax laugh again, too. “Okay, I think you’re taking this surrogate big brother bit a little too seriously - you sounded amazingly like Jerry there!” He turned and looked at him then, still smiling but his voice sincere now as he added: “Thanks for making me laugh like that… And I get your point - I need to lighten up here and just be thankful we’re back together again and have faith that she’ll eventually remember everything we mean to each other.”

“And if she doesn’t, just think of the fun you can have winning her heart all over again,” Chuck grinned wickedly.

“You have a point there…” Jax agreed, smiling as he remembered how enjoyable it had been sweeping her off her feet the first time around.

“And there is no more romantic place in the world than Kronos, so I predict-”

“No!” Jax exclaimed.

“No, what?” Chuck wondered, bewildered by Jax’s outburst. “Kronos is where you’re headed after we change planes in Florida, isn’t it?”

“That was the plan, but now I don’t think that would be good for Brenda,” Jax replied, pulling out his cell phone. “I need to call Dad and get him to make other arrangements for Brenda and me… Dammit! My phone’s not working!”

“Why wouldn’t it be good for Brenda?” Chuck asked, as he reached into his shirt pocket to hand Jax his phone. “It’s private, no distractions, and Cordoba can’t possibly get to you there - security’s tighter than Fort Knox.”

“All of that is true, but Brenda just came from being unwillingly held on an island by Cordoba, with no way off, other than by air or sea; I don’t want her to feel like she’s being held against her will by me on yet another island - and that’s exactly how she’ll feel if I drag her to Kronos now,” he replied, as he closed the phone and handed it back to Chuck, saying: “I can’t get any service with yours either… Must be the area.”

Chuck nodded and slid the phone back into his pocket. “We’re only about 45 minutes from the Florida coast now, so we should be able to get service again shortly - if not, you can call John once we’ve landed… So, if you’re not planning to jet off to Kronos immediately, what is your plan?”

“I plan to play it by ear, but I’m sure I won’t be needing the jet and pilot Dad has waiting for us at the airport,” Jax answered. He was quiet for several minutes, then he looked at Chuck, a slight grin on his face. “How would you feel about taking an extended vacation - say for three weeks on a private Mediterranean island with black sand beaches and 24-hour room service?”

“Kronos?” Chuck asked, his eyebrows raised.

Jax nodded.

“Throw in a bevy of beauties to keep me warm at night and you’ve got yourself a deal!” Chuck grinned.

“God, I swear you have turned into Jerry!” Jax chuckled, as he shook his head. “I’m afraid the harem is out, but the island and everything on it is yours to use for the next three weeks.”

“Sounds like a tough job, but someone’s got to do it!” Chuck laughed. “Now, do you want to tell me why I’m getting the pampered treatment?”

“Well, for one thing, you’ve more than earned it over the past week…”

“True, I have been a most loyal employee,” Chuck nodded.

“And an even more loyal friend,” Jax added, “which is why I know I can trust you to help me with this, just as you helped me to track down and rescue Brenda.”

“How is my lolling on the beach on Kronos and drinking ouzo until my brain and liver are both pickled helping you?”

“Because you’re going to be me for those three weeks,” Jax replied cryptically.

“Okay…” Chuck drawled, still unclear as to what Jax had planned.

“You know how we made sure that my jet was out of the Bahamas and back in Port Charles before we made our move on Brenda?” Jax reminded Chuck.

“Yeah, that was to confuse the issue when Cordoba inevitably suspected you in Brenda’s disappearance… How could you have taken Brenda if you and your jet were both back in the States long before she ever turned up missing,” Chuck nodded. “Then you and Brenda would take the rented jet, that’s waiting for us now at Dade County airport, to Kronos and Cordoba would be none the wiser. We set everything up so you and Brenda would be hard to trace.”

“And it was a good plan,” Jax pointed out, “but we’re scrapping it.”

“In favor of me going to Kronos alone instead?” Chuck was still confused.

Jax nodded. “But you’re going by way of Port Charles.” When Chuck still appeared puzzled, Jax went on to explain: “Instead of trying to hide ‘Jasper Jacks’’ steps from this point on, we’re going to actually leave a trail of breadcrumbs that hopefully Cordoba will follow. At Dade, you - pretending to be me - will let ‘slip’ your identity as you board the chartered jet to fly back to PC, where you - again pretending to be me - will transfer to my jet and fly off to Kronos, leaving a faint but very definite trail for Cordoba to follow.”

“Ah…” Chuck nodded his understanding, “so, while I’m intentionally drawing Cordoba’s attention to me, you and Brenda disappear elsewhere.”

“Exactly!”

“One little problem, pal,” Chuck interjected. “I may look enough like you to fool the locals at Dade County airport, but not the ones in PC - They know you. You’ve lived there for years; been in and out of that airport hundreds of times - Hell, as your main pilot, I’ve been in and out of that airport hundreds of times! Someone is bound to see me and know I’m not you.”

“Not in the middle of the night,” Jax pointed out. “Listen, you’re right - we both have been in and out of that airport hundreds of times over the past few years, but only a handful of those times were in the middle of the night. They run a skeleton crew at night, and chances are no one will recognize that you aren’t me if you fly in then, especially if you’re getting off one jet and having your baggage transferred to my jet to fly out again immediately.”

“What baggage? I only have my flight bag, and I can certainly handle carrying that myself.”

“No, you’re forgetting about the very important, very fragile trunk that weighs about 100# and that you’ll insist is wheeled carefully from one jet to the next. In fact, you’ll insist on supervising that yourself,” Jax instructed.

“And I imagine this trunk has a few air holes poked into it here and there - not too conspicuously, but still conspicuous enough that it could be noticed by a ‘sharp-eyed’ airport worker,” Chuck supplied and Jax nodded. “Another problem, here - if a worker is observant enough to spot the air holes in that trunk, why wouldn’t he recognize that I’m not you?”

“Listen, how many times have people mistaken us for brothers? I mean, you and I look a hell of a lot more alike than Jer and I do - You and I are both about the same height, same build, same coloring - and I’ve heard you do a pretty mean imitation of my voice and accent on more than one occasion,” Jax reminded him. “Add my leather bomber jacket, a ball cap pulled down as far as possible, and a pair of dark glasses and even Mum would be hard pressed to tell us apart - especially on a dimly lit tarmac, late at night. Plus, who would they expect to be boarding my jet, but me - especially with Jim Davis piloting and already aboard and ready to roll?”

“Sounds workable,” Chuck agreed. “In the meantime, where will you and Brenda be heading to hide out? Malibu? Alaska?”

Jax shook his head. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to go to anyplace I own or have family - or even to any of my usual haunts. I want Cordoba to believe for as long as possible that I’ve got Brenda on Kronos. If we show up in Malibu - or even at home with Mum and Dad in Alaska - it would be too easy for him to find that out…”

“So, back to my original question: where will the two of you be hiding out then?”

Jax smiled then, as he cryptically replied: “Hopefully, the last place Cordoba would ever expect - in plain sight.”

Kirby Johnson heaved a sigh of relief as he hung up his phone. He had just tried contacting Mr. Cordoba about the situation with Ms. Devereuax but the number that Cordoba had left for them to contact him in case of emergency was not working, so that gave him a brief reprieve before he had to tell his extremely volatile and extremely dangerous boss that he had somehow lost his fiancée.

It had been several hours since Veronica Devereuax had gone into the bathroom and then apparently vanished into thin air. He and Cordoba’s entire security team had searched the area, as had the police, who were still dusting for prints and scouring for clues, but no one had found anything to suggest what had happened to Ms. Devereaux.

No one but him…

He glanced down at the bag beside him - the one he’d found in the ladies room hours ago and the one he knew Ms. Devereaux had brought with her from the island. Inside it he’d found the tools she’d used to help her make her escape: the face wipes, the scissors, and even her hair that she’d cut off. The police had taken her dress, hat, and shoes that she’d left in the toilet stall as a decoy to buy her more time. And the police would have taken this bag, too, had they known about it. But Kirby had hidden it before he’d called the police and even before he’d called the rest of Cordoba’s security force to come scour the area for Ms. Devereaux and her abductors.

Because that was what the police were now calling Ms. Devereaux’s disappearance - a kidnapping. But Kirby knew otherwise. The contents of this tote bag told him otherwise. Ms. Devereaux’s actions all morning told him otherwise, too. She had played him and she had played him masterfully. As a matter of fact, she had played them all masterfully - him, Hattie, even Mr. Cordoba, because he had no doubt that she had to do some fancy talking to get Mr. Cordoba to allow her to travel off the island while he was on his way to the other side of the world.

The woman had a cool head atop that hot body of hers. She had blindsided them all today, but he couldn’t help but admire the woman’s guts and imagination in pulling this off. He also secretly hoped that she would get to wherever it was she was going and find the happiness she’d never known living under Mr. Cordoba’s thumb.

It was no secret to those around Ms. Devereaux and Mr. Cordoba that she was unhappy. In fact, she’d been unhappy since the day Kirby had first met her - until this morning, that was. He should have known then that something was up with her. At times today she’d been almost on the verge of euphoria, but then she seemed to rein herself in whenever she noticed him looking at her. He should have realized then that this was no ordinary day for her and kept his eyes peeled on her and only her - as Mr. Cordoba expected.

But she’d waited and watched and knew exactly when to make her move and how to do it so it looked as innocent as possible; she’d purposely downed those two very large iced teas - not because she was extraordinarily thirsty, but because it gave her the excuse she needed to get away from him for the few minutes she needed to disguise herself and then slip away. The fact that the flower vendor’s daughter had shown up just before that and provided an additional distraction for him had just helped her plan that much more.

Of course, he hadn’t told anyone about that. He’d kept that information to himself, just like the tote bag and its contents and his observations of Ms. Devereaux’s actions this morning. Because none of that information would really help in getting her back, and all of that simply made him look even more incompetent than he already felt.

No, in his estimation, it was far better for this to look like a kidnapping - possibly the work of one of Mr. Cordoba’s many enemies - than to let anyone know that she had simply outsmarted them all and escaped on her own. This was even better for Mr. Cordoba in the long run. Because it was far less embarrassing for Cordoba and the public at large to believe that his fiancée had been kidnapped by one of his enemies than to face the truth here - that she had run away because she couldn’t bear to face another day with a man she obviously didn’t love.

He glanced around him to make sure that no one from his security team or from the police were watching him, then he slipped the bag beneath his jacket and sauntered into the nearby men’s room, where he dropped the bag into the garbage can, then covered it with several layers of crumpled paper towels. The police had already been through the garbage in here and in the ladies’ room searching for evidence, so he knew they would have no reason to look in here again. And by the time this can was emptied into the dumpster outside, everyone - the police and him and Cordoba’s entire security team - would be long gone. Then nothing would be left to contradict the police’s assumption that this was a kidnapping, which is exactly what he planned to tell Mr. Cordoba when he finally reached him…

In a day or two…

Or whenever…

She sighed as she opened her eyes again to stare out the window at the water passing below. She’d tried sleeping, but every time she closed her eyes Jax’s face popped into her head. And that was less than restful, as her heart kept racing at the mere thought of him - especially at the memory of how she’d felt when she’d held his hand in hers. It had been electrifying and unlike anything she’d ever felt before - outside of those dreams, that is.

And that made her uneasy. Why was she feeling the same feelings for Jax as she had for the man in her dreams, whom she’d always assumed was also the man in her past? What if there was no man in her past and that her libido had simply been reacting to a fantasy man because she had constantly withheld those feelings from Armand? And was that why she was feeling so attracted to Jax? Simply because her libido needed somewhere to focus?

If that were the case, why hadn’t she ever felt such an incredible attraction to any other man before her “dream man” and Jax? After all, she had been around countless handsome men in the past several months, including Kirby and Andrew, with whom she had spent almost as much time as she had Armand. They were incredibly attractive men; even Armand was physically beautiful, yet she’d never felt even the tiniest bit of attraction to any of them. Only her dream man and Jax had been able to stir this fire inside her. And now she had to find a way to douse this fire for Jax quickly so she could concentrate on remembering her dream man, instead of constantly thinking about Jax, as she was now.

She supposed that meant getting away from him as quickly as possible once they landed. Of course, that was what she’d planned to do all along, but then he’d made a valid point about her getting further in her search for her past if she had a support system - someone who could help her sort through things with her. Besides, the United States was a huge place, with hundreds of millions of people, so going in totally blind and trying to find her past would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack - virtually impossible. Jax, on the other hand, seemed confident that he could help her uncover her past and protect her from people who might intend to scam her for her money along the way. And she did trust him - though she still couldn’t figure out exactly why that was.

In the months since she’d awakened in that hospital, she’d found many things hard to regain - her mobility, her speech - but her ability to trust had never returned. She had always just assumed that she had never been one who trusted easily, even before the accident, but her immediate trust in Jax had certainly negated that assumption and proved that she could trust, given the right person. But why was Jax that person? What was it about him that seemed to calm her inner fears and make her believe that, no matter what, she would be okay - as long as they were together?

As long as they were together…

She sighed again, realizing that, like it or not, she needed Jax to help her in this search of hers, which meant they would have to stay together once they landed. That also meant she would likely continue to feel this attraction to him. But worst of all, it meant that his life would be in real danger from Armand and his network of lackeys and spies.

She could handle her little crush on him; she’d simply keep their conversations brief and businesslike. And she’d avoid looking at him any more than she had to - and she’d avoid touching him altogether. But she couldn’t handle it if he ended up hurt or dead because of her - and the likelihood of that happening increased the longer they stayed together.

So she just had to hope that they could find some clue to her past quickly and part ways before Armand found out about him. And once she’d found her past and was back with her dream man, then Armand would have no reason to go after Jax or her, for that matter. She and Jax would both be safe then.

She shifted in her seat, suddenly tired and wishing she’d taken Jax up on his offer to make her a makeshift bed on the floor. It had been an incredibly long day for her, after a very short night, and every cell in her body seemed to be crying out for rest now. She closed her eyes again, praying she could actually clear her head and rest and not be distracted by thoughts about Jax this time.

The gentle vibration of her seat, along with the steady roar of the plane’s engines, felt strangely comforting to her now, and she soon found herself drifting into that much hoped for sleep…

She was dreaming… She was in the cockpit of a very old plane and she felt anxious about whether it could even get off the ground, let alone stay in the air… There was someone beside her, in the pilot’s seat… It was a man… She couldn’t see his face, but she could see his hands as he adjusted some knobs…Then one of the knobs came off in his hands and she could feel her heart race as she looked at it and him in disbelief… They were going to go down, she just knew it…

Her anxiety seemed to grow exponentially and she felt like she was spinning. What was happening to her? She could feel her heart racing faster and faster, and she gasped for breath, clutching at her chest, which felt close to bursting now. She suddenly felt like she was going to die!

She felt strong hands on her arms, then her body gently shaking, and she opened her eyes to see Jax standing over her, rousing her from her sleep.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concern in his eyes and tone.

She tried to get her bearings: she was on a plane (The plane in her dreams?) and she was headed to Florida and freedom with Jax and Chuck - and she was safe. But her heart still seemed to be racing out of control, and she still couldn’t catch her breath. Unable to answer him, she gasped again, continuing to clutch at her chest, which actually hurt now.

His eyes widened as he watched her fight to breathe. He placed a finger against her carotid artery to feel her pulse racing. Was she having a panic attack? He knelt in front of her and undid the harness that held her in the seat. “Hey, you’re okay,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you,” he added, as he pulled her into his arms and held her, rocking her slowly as he remained on his knees.

Her heart was still beating fast and erratically, but it had slowed considerably over the past several seconds, and she could actually breathe now without gasping. What was wrong with her? The dream hadn’t been at all frightening. In fact, she’d felt excited and happy in the dream. But then her heart had begun to race and that’s when she’d suddenly felt anxious, and the more anxious she’d become, the more her heart raced, until she felt like her heart would burst. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Jax waking her up she very well could have died of a heart attack in her sleep.

“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely, as she pulled away from him, wiping tears from her eyes. “I’m… I’m okay now,” she assured him, although her heart was still beating far too fast, but that could just be from him holding her as he had. His embrace had been so comforting and had felt strangely right to her, which unsettled her. He was a stranger - granted, a warm, kind, handsome, caring stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. How could she have bonded so quickly with him when she’d been unable to feel any kinship whatsoever with Armand in all the time they were together? It made no sense to her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jax asked, as he reached up and gently wiped away a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb. He studied her face critically, searching for any clue as to what was happening with her. Her face was flushed and she was visibly shaken; evidently whatever she was going through had scared her deeply. He wished that he could just kiss all of her fears away, but he couldn’t - not yet anyway. “Were you having a nightmare?” he asked.

“Yes - no -” she stammered. “At least I don’t think I was… I guess I’m just having… problems adjusting to life on the outside…”

“On the outside?” he asked, moving to sit in the seat beside her. He understood what she’d meant, but he still wanted her to open up and tell him more about her life with Cordoba.

She took a deep breath and leaned back in her seat. Her heart still was beating faster than normal, but it wasn’t uncomfortable now, and as her heart rate slowed, she relaxed more and more. “I told you that my fiancé, Armand Cordoba, was very controlling…”

Jax nodded, trying to ignore the way the words “my fiancé, Armand Cordoba” coming from her mouth grated on him and made him want to scream: He’s not your fiancé! I am!

“Well, controlling doesn’t really come close to describing him,” she continued, shifting slightly in her seat in order to find a more comfortable position for her leg, which had begun to throb again. “He’s kept me a virtual prisoner ever since I was released from the hospital to his care… He bought me clothes, jewels, took me on trips with him on his private jet to exotic places, but he kept me tied to his side all the time. I was like a bird in a gilded cage; given everything but the one thing I truly wanted and needed - my freedom.”

“So you took it yourself,” Jax supplied.

She nodded. “Yeah, I took it myself - but at what price?” She sighed again, then continued: “You’re not the only one whose life I put in danger by running like this…”

“Oh?”

She nodded again. “And the thing is, I knowingly involved them from the beginning… It’s not like with you… I mean it was just circumstance that brought you into my plan - if I hadn’t sprained my ankle and if yours hadn’t been the car parked next to the dumpster where I landed, then you would be in the clear now… But Hattie and Kirby… I knew all along that they’d have to be sacrificed for me to get away…” she continued quietly.

Jax could hear the incredible sadness in her voice as she talked of these two. “Hattie and Kirby?” he asked.

“Ummm… Yeah, Hattie Winston is the cook at the estate and Kirby Johnson is one of my personal bodyguards… I went with them to the marketplace this morning - or rather, I went with Hattie and Kirby went with me, since Armand refused to let me go anywhere without one or both of my bodyguards… Anyway, Hattie goes every Friday to get fresh produce and other food for the coming week. She prefers Fridays over the other market days because there are more vendors on Fridays and she says she gets her best value then.” She laughed softly as she added: “It didn’t matter to Hattie that she could spend a fortune on food if she wanted to, since Armand gave her a very generous food budget. She just loved to make deals - and she always came out ahead. I think Hattie could rule the world if she put her mind to it,” she smiled gently, as she fondly remembered her one and only friend on the island. “I just hope she doesn’t lose her job because of this - or worse…” she added, fresh tears in the corners of her eyes again, as she thought of how Armand could blame Hattie for her disappearance.

“And poor Kirby…” she continued, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I don’t even want to think what Armand will do to Kirby when he finds out…”

“You did what you had to do to survive,” Jax pointed out.

“I know,” she nodded, “but it still doesn’t ease my conscience much where they’re concerned - or you, for that matter.”

He smiled. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“But you don’t know Armand…” she rebuffed, her eyes bright with tears as she looked up at him.

“So, tell me about him,” Jax replied quietly, not really wanting to hear about this man she now called her fiancé, but needing to, just the same. “Where is he now? I mean, he obviously must be somewhere other than in the Bahamas for you to make a break for it.”

Again she nodded. “He came to me late last night to tell me he would be out of the country for several days on a business trip. At first I thought he would drag me along because he’d only made a handful of trips over the past six months that he hadn’t taken me with him. I dreaded that because we’d just returned from a long trip a couple of days before. Besides, he had just allowed me my first day of freedom on the island, and I hated the thought of having to give that up so soon-”

“Wait a minute -” Jax interrupted. “You mean to tell me he never allowed you to go anywhere alone - even on his own private island?”

“No, not until yesterday,” she replied. Then something hit her and she looked at him, her eyes narrowed: “How did you know the island was private?”

“Ummm…” Jax stuttered, as he realized too late the slip he’d made. “I just assumed… I mean, from the way you described him - controlling, wealthy - that he’d want and need the privacy of owning his own island.”

She nodded, smiling slightly. “Very astute of you…” she noted, studying his face and gazing into his eyes. She could easily get lost in his eyes, she suddenly realized, so she quickly averted her eyes from him and returned to her story: “Anyway, he said he couldn’t take me with him this time because it was a dangerous area and that he would even be out of communication range at times. But while he was gone, he wanted me to stay on the estate and give up the only freedoms he’d ever allowed me - to explore the island and go with Hattie to Nassau on market day. I knew right then and there that this would be my only opportunity for escape, so I convinced him to let me go to market with Hattie, like usual. Then, after he left, I plotted my escape… And here I am… And if we’re lucky, Armand is still out of communication range and doesn’t yet know that I’m not safely back on the island, lunching by the pool with Kirby less than ten paces away and staring a hole in my back… Because once he finds out, all hell will break loose, and he’ll move heaven and earth to find me and drag me back to him, taking out anyone who gets in his way…”

“Then we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t find you,” Jax said, reaching over and taking her hand in his. He watched her once again stare at their joined hands, confusion clouding her eyes again, but she made no move to pull her hand from his this time.

She looked up at him and smiled warmly. He made her feel such incredible things - things she’d never felt before in the waking world. And on top of that, he made her feel comfortable and safe and, best of all, hopeful that she wasn’t on a fool’s errand here - that she could actually find her past with him helping and guiding her along the way. She took a deep breath and squeezed his hand, as she tried to put into words what she wanted to say: “Jax, I want you…”

“You want me?” His voice caught in his throat, as he could scarcely believe his ears. Did she actually say what he thought she’d said? That she wanted him? Had she actually remembered him? Tell me you love me, his heart screamed.

“Yes,” she smiled, once again squeezing his hand and loving the sweet sensations that simple act sent sailing through her. “I want you to stay with me and help me - that is, if your offer to help still stands…”

Jax’s heart fell when he realized that he had once again misread her. She hadn’t remembered him and she didn’t want him back as her lover/best friend/fiancé again; she simply wanted to take him up on his offer to help her find her past… Well, at least that was a start…

He hid his disappointment behind a bright smile. “It definitely still stands.”

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I know this isn’t going to be easy, but I somehow feel better about it knowing you’re going to be with me, helping me…” Her heart began to race again, and she frowned slightly at the unsettling sensation.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jax asked, immediately sensing that something was not right with her.

“Ummm… sure… Just feeling a little giddy I guess, knowing that I’m finally on my way to discovering who I really am,” she assured him, but she knew this went far beyond mere giddiness at the prospect of finally searching out her past and even beyond the excitement she felt at touching Jax. Her heart was once again beating erratically, and she could feel her stomach tying in knots now, too. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she knew exactly what was happening to her; she was experiencing the first unmistakable symptoms of withdrawal and it was only going to get worse before it got better.

“How long before we land?” she asked, breathing slowly and deeply as she tried to calm her anxiety at her escalating heart rate and squelch her building nausea.

“I’m not sure…” Jax replied, glancing at his watch, “but I can see land below us, so it can’t be too much longer.” He reached over and fastened the harness back around her, then fastened his own.

As if by magic, Chuck’s voice rang over the intercom just then: “Better buckle up, folks, we’re coming in for a landing in less than five.”

“That’s good,” Brenda said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, as she leaned forward as far as possible given the constraints of the seat belt, “because I think I’m about to be very sick…”

Armand Cordoba was hot and tired and hungry, but most of all he was frustrated. He’d just spent 10 hours flying to Angola and another two hours simply trying to get out of the airport in Luanda. It seemed that every two-bit bureaucrat needed to see his papers, then his money, before they’d let him pass to the next checkpoint, and he’d spent several thousand American dollars before he’d ever even made it out of the airport. Now he was three hours into a six-hour trip by armed convoy on a dusty road in a jeep with no air-conditioning to a secluded area just beyond Malanje, where he would finally meet with his clients. But none of that bothered him as much as the fact that he’d been unable to speak with Veronica since he’d left her last night.

He knew his cell phone would be useless here, but now his expensive satellite phone wasn’t working either, and he tossed it angrily onto the seat beside him. That brought a raised eyebrow from Andrew Bergen, one of his own security team that he’d brought with him on this trip, but no comment, as Andrew and the rest of the team knew better than to comment on anything that he did. He paid them well to keep their mouths shut as they protected him, and they all did that very well. He only hoped they continued to do as well here in Angola, where he needed the protection more than he ever had in his life.

Angola was embroiled in a continuing civil war, with the warring factions that were intent on overthrowing the current government also making travel hazardous within the country. That was why he was traveling by armed convoy on the road and not simply flying into an interior airstrip, which would have been much quicker - though very unwise. The Angolan rebels had a tendency to shoot down any aircraft that ventured over their territory, no questions asked. At least on the roads, they stopped traffic long enough to ascertain friend or foe before deciding to wipe the detainee off the face of the earth. Since he was providing the rebels with their current and future weapons and ammunition, he’d been assured that he and his convoy would be afforded safe passage. But he’d still come heavily armed himself because he knew better than to trust any of his customers simply at their word.

He supposed in retrospect he should have passed on this particular deal, or at least insisted that the rebel leaders meet him in the relative safety of Luanda. He had never before traveled to meet a client on their home turf; he’d always insisted upon a neutral meeting place and a civilized setting. But the Angolan rebels had balked at leaving the country and even at meeting in a safe hotel in the capital city of Luanda, offering to pay in uncut diamonds if he’d meet them in their camp instead. And the uncut diamonds had been the clincher for him.

And once he had those diamonds, he was off to Antwerp, where he planned to have the most perfect of those stones cut and set into a ring for Veronica, then sell the rest for a hefty profit. Then he was flying back to his island paradise, where the woman he loved and planned to marry was patiently waiting for him.

His thoughts drifted back to Veronica and what had happened between them in her room just last night, and he couldn’t help but smile. She had finally shown him that she was beginning to truly care for him, and it was just a short jump from there to loving him completely. And all it had taken in the end was to trust her enough to allow her that little extra freedom she craved. It had been such a small concession on his part, but it would offer such a big payoff in the end.

His driver hit a hole then, bouncing their vehicle hard and pulling him out of his happy thoughts. He glanced out the window at the desolate landscape as they drove along; the arid countryside, pocked with bomb craters, littered with the skeletons of bombed out vehicles, and stained with the blood of its people, spilled over decades of endless fighting. It was such a stark contrast to where he lived and the way in which he lived, and he was suddenly glad that Veronica was not here to see this. She had always hated what he did in the abstract, having never actually witnessed the end result of one of his transactions; she would be both sickened and devastated to see the practical proof of his complicity in such an ongoing ugliness as this. And she would be sickened by him, as well, and he would likely lose her heart forever, and he couldn’t chance that - not now that she was finally beginning to surrender it to him.

And he realized now that she would be right to be sickened by this because it sickened him. He had always been able to ignore the inevitable outcome of his business dealings because he had never been forced to see the end results, as he was now. He had kept himself above the dirt, he thought, by viewing what he did as a business. He’d been able to foster that illusion over the years by only conducting business in luxury hotels or on the private estates of wealthy intermediaries, far from the sound and fury - and devastation - of the weapons he sold. But now, seeing this, he knew that he could no longer escape the truth: he’d killed the countless people who’d died here with his business transactions as surely as he’d had killed Ed Johnson with that baseball bat all those years ago. The only difference was that he’d killed Ed Johnson out of anger and pain over his mother’s senseless death; he’d killed these people - and hundreds of thousands more like them - out of nothing more than greed and indifference.

Looking at this hellish landscape - the evidence of what his business had wrought - was like holding up a mirror to face his own reflection, and he suddenly hated what he saw. He realized that he was finally seeing what Veronica must have seen each time she looked at him, and he understood now why she had resisted him for so long. She had always seen him as cold and controlling because that is what this business had made him. But that wasn't who he was deep down inside. Inside, he was still Andrew Thompson, that boy who wanted nothing more than to love and be loved. And he had finally found that person to love, and she was just beginning to love him, too.

But he knew that he couldn’t continue on like this if he hoped to keep her and her love. He loved her completely, and he wanted her to love him completely, as well, but he knew that would be impossible as long as he remained in this business. So this would be his last stand as an arms dealer - it had to be. He no longer wanted or needed the excitement that was inherent in this business, and he could no longer ignore the bloody trail of tears that followed each lucrative deal - not if he wanted Veronica’s love and respect, and his own self-respect, as well. When he returned home he would call Vincent and take him up on his offer to take over his financial empire, then he and Veronica could settle down and raise that houseful of kids that Vincent had always wanted for him.

He picked up his bottled water, took a long drink, then closed his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. It no longer mattered that he was hot and tired and had no means of communicating with the outside world at the moment. He didn’t even care that he was traveling across one of the most treacherous areas in the world or that he was one of the men responsible for making it so dangerous. Because when this was all over, he was putting this trip and the rest of his hellish past behind him forever.

Then, for the second time in his life, he was making a fresh start for himself. Perhaps not with a new name, as he had all those years ago when he’d shed the persona of Andrew Thompson to become Armand Cordoba, but at least with a new career and a fresh outlook on life. Then he and Veronica could both simply forget their dark pasts and concentrate instead on their bright future together.