Unraveling The Past. Elisabeth Rees

Tyler broke into a run, dashing down the stairs to check on Joanna. She was waiting in the living room for him, a zipped bag at her feet.

      “I packed the things you asked for, but there’s not much food—”

      He cut her off. “Somebody’s outside in the yard. We gotta go.”

      “Were we followed?”

      “It looks that way.” He scanned the room, snatching the motorcycle key from a hook by the front door. He then picked up his bag and slipped his arms through the straps like a backpack. Joanna fastened her bag in the same way, tightening the straps around her slender frame.

      “We’ll take the motorcycle,” he said. “If this guy’s got a car, we should be able to outrun him.”

      “You want me to drive?” she asked, reaching for the key.

      “No.”

      “You remember how to ride?”

      He flashed a grin. “There are some things you never forget.”

      He recalled seeing two helmets on the enclosed porch and retrieved them, handing the smaller one to Joanna and slipping the other over his head. While steering her to the door, he remembered something vital. He quickly doubled back and picked up a framed photo from the bureau. Smashing the glass on the wood, he quickly flicked the picture of his SEAL buddies out of its frame and slipped it into his pocket. If he had to accept that he was no longer a SEAL, he would carry his past around with him.

      The air outside had chilled even further, and Tyler felt his heartbeat pick up pace. The helmet he wore fit snugly, and he could hear the sound of his own blood whooshing around his temples. The remains of his headache still pulsed, and he imagined his brain struggling to repair its damaged temporal lobe. How could a chunk of his life be plunged into darkness, while other memories remained as clear as day? His instinct told him that he could trust this beautiful woman by his side, and his heart told him that he cared about her. But he couldn’t be sure. He would need to stay on his guard, just in case he had gotten it badly wrong.

      He closed the front door with a soft click and started across the lawn, hoping that the intruder would remain around back until the motorcycle roared to life. A creaking noise caused him to spin quickly. The intruder was at the side of the house, opening the gate that Tyler had bolted behind his cruiser. The pair locked eyes, neither blinking, neither moving for a second or two. He recognized the man’s face. The pockmarked skin and deep-set eyes were familiar, and he knew that under the woolen hat was a bald head.

      Joanna grabbed the back of his sweatshirt. “It’s Crusher,” she gasped. “He chased us at the prison.”

      Tyler pulled his gun from its holster and raised it. Joanna did the same. With two guns trained on him, Crusher’s eyes widened, and he raised his own weapon in response.

      “Wait,” he yelled. “Don’t shoot.” He lowered his gun. “I’m not here to hurt you. Let’s talk.”

      Tyler rolled his eyes. As if he was going to fall for that.

      “Stay right there!” Tyler ordered, as he positioned himself on his motorcycle and waited for Joanna to settle on the pillion.

      “If you try to follow us, we’ll have no choice but to shoot,” he shouted before starting up the engine and drowning out Crusher’s reply.

      “Keep your gun trained on him,” he yelled to Joanna, holstering his own weapon. “And hold on to me tight.”

      With that, he roared down the street and headed for the open road.

      * * *

      Joanna leaned against the wall of the gas station while Tyler filled up the motorcycle. It was after midnight, and they had crossed the state line into Arkansas, traveling on clear roads like a bullet. But she was frozen to the core. Tyler had given her his padded jacket, yet her teeth still chattered.

      Tyler walked over to her, the visor of his helmet threaded through his forearm and resting in the crook of his elbow. He handed her a cup of coffee, purchased from a machine, and she took it gratefully. The warmth of the cardboard cup in her hands was exquisite.

      “The cashier says there’s a twenty-four-hour motel about two miles down this road. I think we should check in for the night and get some rest before we make a plan.”

      Joanna glanced anxiously down the dark highway, straight and deserted, stretching into the starry horizon. The gas station was lit up like a beacon in the blackness, with just one lonely male cashier sitting behind bars, reading a sports magazine.

      “Do you think somebody followed us?” she asked.

      “I doubt it. There’s no way anyone could hide away on these roads.” He stared into the distance. The sky was free of clouds and as black as oil, lit by millions of stars. “I forgot how special Missouri skies can be.”

      “I hate to remind you,” she said, giving him a gentle nudge. “But we’re in Arkansas.”

      He nudged her back. “Same difference. It’s the same sky.”

      They both stood in silence for a few moments, gazing at the stars, mentally preparing themselves for the task ahead: the job of proving her innocence. She thought of how her life had become a disaster in just a matter of hours. She had woken up that morning as an undercover officer assisting a drug task force. Now she assumed there was a warrant out for her arrest.

      She felt Tyler’s arm curl around her, and she let her head drop onto his shoulder. If she could, she would fall asleep right there on her feet like a horse.

      “However long it takes,” he said, “we’ll get to the truth.”

      His words comforted her but also reminded her of her lack of preparedness. She looked down at the bag by her feet. “All I have in my possession are a couple of guns and a lot of ammo.” She tried to raise a smile. “And that isn’t even mine. I don’t have any money at all.”

      He left his fingers splayed on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of expenses. Since I joined the SEALs, I’ve always kept cash, a passport, a weapon and a cell phone in a locked safe just in case I need them.”

      “Wow,” she said. “I guess you like to be ready for every eventuality.”

      “The SEALs taught me to always be prepared. Life has a funny way of throwing you a curveball when you least expect it.”

      “And life just threw you the biggest curveball of all,” she said, stealing a glance at his pensive face. “How are you holding up? I know this must be really hard for you, like learning to walk again.”

      He turned his head and looked down at her. “To tell you the truth, I still can’t make much sense of it. I keep closing my eyes and concentrating really hard, but all I see are the hillsides of Afghanistan.” He pulled the photograph from his pocket. “I keep seeing these five men.” He sighed. “In my mind, this is where I still am. I just wish I knew how and why I ended up back in Godspeed. How could I turn my back on my unit, on my life in Virginia, on everything that I hold sacred?”

      “You didn’t turn your back on any of those things,” she said, positioning her body to face him. “You just took a different path. From what you told me, you thought that God was guiding you back home to Yardley County.”

      He knit his eyebrows. “I said that?”

      “Yes.”

      Joanna had always found Tyler’s strong trust in God uplifting, bolstering her own waning faith. She couldn’t see how God would lead her down such a cruel path. She had assumed she had done something wrong and was now being punished. But Tyler’s faith was unshakable, and she frequently took solace in it, wrapping herself in his conviction that God listened to all prayers.

      He smiled broadly. “Well, if God guided me back home, then it must be for a good reason. I appreciate you telling me that.”

      He slipped his hand