“Your headaches are because of your fugue,” Carla said beside me.
I dropped my hand and looked at her. “I think so,” I said, even though I didn’t have a doctor’s confirmation. Perhaps the headaches were residual from Thomas’s hypnosis session.
She frowned. “They’re getting worse.”
“They were manageable for a while, but lately, yes. They’ve been worse, more frequent, and . . .” My voice trailed off. I grabbed a brush and drummed the handle on the table.
“And what?” she encouraged.
“I have to tell Julian about me.”
“Why would you ever do that?”
“He needs to know what to do when I forget he’s my son, and what will happen if I don’t want to be his father.”
Carla turned two shades paler. Her mouth worked, trying to form words.
“Natalya will adopt Julian and Marcus,” I said, anticipating her question. “They’ll go live with her.”
“In Hawaii?”
I nodded.
A veneer slid over her face, making it impossible to read her reaction. Her gaze jumped around the studio and landed on her purse. She went to pick it up. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to the house to rest.”
I watched her walk toward the exit. “Carla?”
Her long, bony fingers gripped the doorknob and she angled her chin in my direction.
“Is something wrong? Have I somehow upset you?”
She looked down her nose at me. Gone was the woman my family befriended and my sons looked up to like a grandmother. In her place was the woman we’d first met on the beach five years ago.
“I’m perfectly fine. It’s just entirely too hot and uncomfortable in this studio.” She left, the door softly closing behind her.
CHAPTER 29
JAMES
Present Day
June 29
Hanalei, Kauai, Hawaii and San Jose, California
Short on time, James packs frantically. Natalya comes into the room with two steaming mugs of coffee as he comes out of the bathroom. He tosses his toiletries case into the packed suitcase on the bed.
“What time’s your flight?”
“Eight forty-five.” He has two hours.
“Oh! We’ve got to hurry.” She sets down the mugs. “It’ll take at least forty-five minutes to get to the airport.”
“I’ve called a cab.”
“Are you sure?”
The hesitation in her tone has James glancing up from where he’s zipping closed the roller. Natalya rubs her hands. Her gaze flutters from him to the suitcase. She chews her lower lip and he slowly straightens.
“I’m coming back,” he says quietly.
“I know, it’s just . . .” She looks away and traces one of the mug’s rims where the coffee sits on the desk.
“It’s just what?”
“Is it shameful for me to admit I’m scared?”
He could write the book on shame. “No.” Because he was scared himself. “Trust me, I am coming back. My sons mean too much to me. You . . . I want to see you again. A lot.”
“I want to see you, too, but that’s not what has me worried. How much did Carlos put in the journal about my conversation with Dr. Feinstein?”
“Enough, I assume. The passage was fairly extensive. I’ve also talked and met with a few medical experts myself.”
“Then you know your fugue can recur.”
Their eyes meet across the room. “Yes.”
Although rare, there have been documented cases where a person can have not just one repeat episode, but multiple. Once again, he’ll be left with a blank slate in his head while those around him are left with nothing but heartache and memories of the man he used to be. It’s why one of the psychologists who evaluated James recommended therapy. There’s likely more at war in his head than solely the fear Carlos felt in his nightmares when Phil threatened to go after Aimee. That imagery could be symbolic of a greater issue from his past, possibly from his childhood, his mind had buried.
And here he is, running straight to the man both he and Thomas believe was the trigger that tossed James into the fugue state. They also believe Phil tried to murder James. Phil has yet to admit that, and fortunately for him, James can’t remember most of it.
In less than twenty-four hours of his release, Phil showed up at Donato Enterprises this morning. He was there when Thomas arrived at the office. Thomas first thought Phil was looking for employment. Instead, he was looking for James, and seemed very determined to find him. He wouldn’t tell Thomas why, and when Thomas proposed the three of them meet for dinner this evening, Phil wasn’t keen on the idea. His business is with James and James alone. Which is why James needs to get to California before Phil comes to them.
Natalya blinks rapidly. She averts her face. He feels her despair as though it’s his own, right smack-dab in the middle of his chest. An imaginary fist that squeezes his pulsing heart. He crosses the room and embraces her.
“I will come back,” he whispers into her hair.
“I’m not afraid you won’t come back. I’m afraid you won’t remember to come back.”
That fist drops his heart into his stomach. “Should something happen to me when I see my brothers—”
Natalya shakes her head. “Don’t say that. I have to believe nothing’s going to happen to you.”
He leans back to look down at her. She blinks away her tears. “Nat, honey, the last time I thought that about Phil, I lost six and a half years. The last time I thought that about Thomas, he hypnotized me without my consent.” He needs to be realistic about his situation. He needs to prepare, mentally and emotionally. So does Natalya. “My sons, Nat . . . I need you to keep them safe for me. And if I don’t come back . . .”
“You will. You’ll find your way. I have to believe that. Remember Stitch. You’re my ohana.”
Family.
Where no one is left behind or forgotten.
His mouth twitches. “You’re quoting Disney movies again.”
Despite the tears, Natalya cracks a smile. “I’ll keep your sons safe.”
“You’re leaving us?”
James and Natalya jerk apart. Julian stands rigid in the doorway. How much did he hear? Enough, judging by the stew of emotions contorting his face: disbelief, anger, and rejection.
Betrayal.
His hands are fists at his side. His gaze cuts from Natalya to the suitcase on the bed and up to James. “I knew you’d leave us. I hate you. I want my old dad back.” He takes off. James hears the door slam to the rear yard.
A horn blares in the driveway. The cab is here. James shoves both hands through his shower-damp hair. He eyes the suitcase then starts to go after Julian.
“James.” Natalya blocks his way. “You’ll miss your flight. I’ll go talk with him and explain why you’re leaving. I’ll tell him you’re coming back.”
“He won’t believe you.” He yanks the suitcase off the bed and sets it upright on the floor. “He won’t believe I’m coming back until I do come back.”
“Then make sure you do.” She hands him a sealed envelope.
“What’s this?”
“A letter for you. From you.”
His skin tightens behind his neck. “From me?”
“You made me promise to give it to you should you find your way back to me.”