Remember Me Read Online Free PDF

pointed back into the room.
    â€œYou tell me,” he said. “She wasn’t wearing those on her arms when she left.”
    Dawson looked again, this time focusing on the bruises and needle marks on Frankie’s arms.
    â€œWell, I’ll be damned,” he muttered.
    Ramsey glanced at his partner, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “Look, Mr. LeGrand, I’m sorry we were so tough on you, but you know how things looked.”
    Clay stood. “Yeah, I know how things looked from my side of the fence, too.”
    Dawson had the grace to flush. He extended his hand. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”
    In the examining room, Frankie suddenly moaned and then screamed, as if she was in terrible pain.
    Clay’s heart skipped a beat. He was inside the room before they could stop him.
    â€œWhat’s happening?”
    â€œSir, please wait outside,” a nurse said, and started pushing him out of the room when Frankie suddenly jerked.
    â€œLook out for that bus!” she moaned.
    An alarm began to beep. Clay looked frantically at Frankie, and at the machines surrounding where she lay. Before he could focus on which one had gone off, they had pushed him out of the room.

Three
    T he hospital room was quiet, unlike the busy corridor outside Frankie’s door. Clay stood with his back to the window, staring down at his wife. She had yet to regain consciousness. Any anger he’d felt at what he viewed as betrayal had long since turned to worry. No matter what she had done, he could never wish her ill. He loved her. Would always love her. Even if that love hadn’t been enough to make her to stay.
    He sighed, letting his gaze rake her features. Her heart-shaped face, the straight, perfect nose, that wide, sensuous mouth. All of them made up the woman who was his wife. Yet, standing there, it hit him how little he really knew of her past, and that, only what she’d told him.
    Orphaned at four, she’d spent the next fourteen years of her life at Gladys Kitteridge House, an orphanage in Albuquerque, New Mexico. After that, college in Denver, sandwiching studies in library science between two part-time jobs. Clay remembered walking into the steak house where she had been working. Slender almost to the point of skinny, she had been balancing a huge silver tray loaded with four steaming orders of steak. And she was laughing. He could still remember the knot that had formed in the pit of his stomach. He’d wanted her then—even before he’d known her name. He sighed. But that was a lifetime ago, before she’d walked out on him—before the bottom had fallen out of his world.
    A muscle in her left cheek kept twitching, and her eyelids were fluttering. He wondered if she even knew where she was. Her breathing was slow and shallow. The tumble of dark hair spilling across her pillow only accentuated the pallor of her skin. He frowned. She was too damned still. From what he’d read, her symptoms did not fit addiction withdrawal. Yet what other explanation could there be for the tracks on her arms? And there was that strange outburst just before she’d passed out. Something about a bus. What the hell did that mean?
    He thrust his fingers through his hair, momentarily separating the short dark strands. They fell back into place as he began to massage the muscles in his neck. He didn’t know what hurt worse, his head or his heart. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. On the one hand, Frankie’s reappearance was like a dream come true. But why had she left him in the first place? For most people, getting high didn’t require going into hiding.
    Unconsciously, he leaned closer, wishing he could penetrate her mind. He needed explanations, not more mysteries. But there were no obvious answers, only more questions.
    A lump began forming in the back of his throat. Overwhelmed that she was really here, he took a deep breath, willing