Taken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Third Season (31 page)

I
’m not
sure if I fell asleep again or if someone gave me more drugs, but my body seemed to hurt less when I woke up. The searing pain in my chest didn’t feel quite as much like white-hot coals—it was more of a smoldering now. It still hurt like a motherfucker, but it wasn’t quite as bad. Almost tolerable.

“You’re getting the good stuff now.”

I smiled. Hearing that—hearing her voice made me think I didn’t need any drugs at all. Knowing Jen was there took the pain away somehow. She was the piece of me that was missing. The only one who could unlock the chest of emotions that was locked up in my brain. The one that came with both the good and the bad—and dealing with the horrors I knew were in there had to be worth it if it came with her on the other side.

She squeezed my hand. “They said they don’t know how you survived, Brandon.” There was something in her voice when she said my name. Some uncertainty—something I hadn’t heard before from her.

She knew.

Or she knew something.

I knew it was going to hurt to talk, but I had to do it anyway. I had to make her understand. “I did it for you.” I still couldn’t quite open my eyes—the drugs were still making things just a little too hazy for everything to work.

“Hmm.” I could hear the smile in her voice, even though she hadn’t really said anything.

She was happy I was alive. Even if she did know—even if she had been told about every secret I had—I could tell she was happy.

“You’ve missed a lot. The country seems to be in anarchy and everything.” There was something almost hesitant in her voice now. And it didn’t sound like she was kidding.

“Anarchy.” It didn’t come out as the question I had meant it. Maybe because if it was true—if the country really was in shambles—that fact wouldn’t really surprise me. Everything would have unfolded exactly the way it was supposed to, even if I had abandoned my mission. Even if I hadn’t completed the act, I only vaguely remembered what it was I had been asked to finish.

“Yeah. Anarchy.”

I tried to open my eyes, but they were still too heavy. But I think I smiled. “You like that word?”

She squeezed my hand. “No. Not really.” She paused for a long moment. “Brandon…” I could hear it in her voice again—the uncertainty. Something in her tone said she might have known more than even
I
did about why she shouldn’t call me that. Not that I had anything better for her to call me. It hadn’t been that long since I had found out myself. And it had come from an offhand remark by her father—if he hadn’t been so careless in letting me get close to him, I probably never would have known.

Marian knew something, too. She hadn’t said as much that first time I had met her, but the way she looked at me that day at that political convention—it wasn’t as though it could have meant anything else. But I wasn’t completely sure of anything then. That was before I had found out the truth about myself. Back then, I was still Brandon Richardson. Back then, I had no reason to doubt otherwise.

I felt almost breathless. Part of it was because it was still difficult to breathe—even with the drugs. And part of it was because I just wasn’t sure what to tell Jen. I wasn’t sure how much she knew or how much she would
want
to know.

You can’t just come out and tell someone that you think you might be some kind of mercenary. Some sort of robot and that you don’t understand who or what is controlling you. You especially can’t tell someone you love anything of the sort. And I knew I couldn’t tell Jen, particularly since I wasn’t sure if it was true or if it was a story I was making up in my head.

Except that I knew on some level that it wasn’t a story. I had thought it was just a recurring nightmare at one time, but I knew at least part of the truth now. And it had only happened because she left me—if she hadn’t run away to Maine all those months ago, I might have never known. And I might have done something horrible to her if I hadn’t found out.

And that was why I didn’t have much longer. I didn’t understand why they had saved my life during whatever surgery they had just done to me—it would have been an easy way to dispose of me. It would have been the kindest way to get rid of me, and maybe that was why they hadn’t. There was nothing kind about these people. People with any sort of altruism in their hearts didn’t do to people what they had done to me.

They didn’t take babies and turn them into killers.

H
e drifted back
off to sleep again. They had told me this would happen—that he wouldn’t be quite conscious for a while, drifting in and out. But I was happy to watch him sleep—ecstatic that he was alive at all.

Marian and the doctor had warned me that he might not make it through the surgery. And it had occurred to me at some point that if he didn’t, it would be because someone didn’t
want
him to live. But I knew Brandon would want to live. He wasn’t done with life quite yet, and we weren’t done with each other. I knew he would fight.

He stirred again after a long while. I was sure he could tell I had been watching him, the way he shifted in his bed, almost as if he was embarrassed.

He smiled and finally opened his eyes. “You’re still here.”

I squeezed his hand, returning his smile. “Of course I am.”

His eyes fluttered closed for another moment until he fully awakened. He blinked a few times and stared into my eyes. “You’re real?”

I nodded, feeling tears well behind my eyes. I clasped his hand between my own, wanting him to know I was there. For him. I wished I could somehow make him understand that it didn’t matter if his name wasn’t really Brandon Richardson or if he even knew his name at all. It only mattered that we loved each other. And he needed to know that I was never going to leave him.

“You know, don’t you?” His expression was pained, and I could almost see the fear in his eyes.

I squeezed his hand again, wishing I could stroke his face. It was less swollen now, but still so bruised I was afraid to touch it for fear of causing him more pain. “I know what you told me before you passed out in that room. And I know what Marian told me, which wasn’t a whole lot.”

He nodded slowly, probably more because of how painful it was for him to move than anything else. “And what was that?”

I let out a long breath. “Basically the same thing you said.”

He shook his head, his brow creasing. “I don’t remember what I said, Jen. I don’t remember much of anything.”

I nodded, threading my fingers through his with one hand, stroking his arm with the other. “You said you weren’t who I thought you were.”

He nodded again slowly before closing his eyes. “She’s always known I wasn’t. Hasn’t she?”

“Yes.” I tried to tell him with my voice and with my hands that it was going to be all right. I squeezed his hand again, stroking his arm lightly. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

He lifted his head just above his pillow, opening his eyes for a moment to stare into mine. “You say that now, but you don’t know what it means. You really don’t, Jen.” His head slumped back onto the pillow, his eyes closing once more.

“I can prove it to you, Brandon.”

He shook his head though I could see by his expression that it hurt to do even that much. “You should probably stop calling me that.”

“Well, I don’t have anything better to call you.” I squeezed his hand again before letting it go. I stood up beside his bed. “I’ll be right back.”

He opened his eyes to look at me again. “Don’t go. Jen, just … stay. Please.”

My chest grew tight and I felt a stabbing pain in my heart at his words. He thought I was leaving him. I could see the fear in his eyes—he actually thought that knowing his name wasn’t really Brandon was enough for me to leave him.

I lowered my gaze to the bed. I had hurt him so much—all the times I had pushed him away. I had only done what I thought was best all those times. I had only been trying to protect myself—my precious feelings and what was left of my dignity. I hadn’t ever seen him this vulnerable—even when he had been in the hospital the last time, it hadn’t been like
this
.

I lifted my gaze again to meet his. “I’m not leaving you, Brandon. I promise. I just have a surprise for you.”

His expression softened, and I was almost positive it was a look of relief that washed over him before his eyes closed again. He gave me a small, sleepy smile. “You know how I feel about surprises.”

I chuckled. “I know. But I think you’ll like this one.”

“Are you going to take off your shirt again?”

I laughed. “You remember that? You must be starting to wake up.”

He gave me a dreamy sigh. “
That
would be a surprise worth waking up for.”

I smiled, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “Later. I promise.”

He nodded, his head barely moving. I waited for him to give me another sarcastic comeback or maybe even a sweet comment about the short time we had shared in that little holding room, but none came. I could see he had drifted off to sleep again.

I walked out of the room and headed down the hallway, back into one of the narrow corridors to a small office. Now that it was daytime, there were people here—and there was one in particular who was waiting for me to find him.

I wasn’t in the habit of going to confession. I hadn’t even been to a church since Daniel’s funeral. But once I had found the chaplain of this underground hospital and explained things to him, he had agreed to help.

If there was one thing I was sure of that day, it was that this would be a surprise Brandon wouldn’t find the least bit objectionable.

I
don’t know
how long she was gone. I felt like I was floating on a cloud—not in a happy or giddy way, but more of a drugged not-sure-where-in-the-hell-I-was sort of way. I wasn’t even sure much of the conversation Jen and I had just had was even real—there seemed to be a very likely possibility that I had imagined it.

She wasn’t just going to say she didn’t
care
if I wasn’t really who I had said I was. No one would do that. Not Jen—she had her family dynasty to uphold. She couldn’t very well just take me for who I was, especially if neither of us was sure who that person was in the first place.

I would find out, though. Somehow. I had only scratched the surface of the details when all hell had broken loose the last time. And I hadn’t even had a chance to go back and look at anything again since I had found Jen in Maine. Things were happening too fast—I needed some space to be able to dig. I needed to be away from whoever owned me—even though I had no recollection of ever being owned by anyone. I just somehow knew I was.

I opened my eyes again. Jen still hadn’t returned, but I had no sense of how long she had been gone. It seemed like each time I woke up, I had a little tighter grasp of reality. And things were starting to come back to me—the reason I was in this hospital bed, for instance. The memory of taking the beatings was just beginning to return when Jen appeared in the doorway of my room.

With a man.

“
A
re you sure about this
?”

She nodded at the man, smiling. “Positive.”

He looked at me and turned back again to Jen. “It won’t be legal. Even with the Nevada laws being as lenient as they are, it still won’t be legal.”

She turned to look at me, even though she was still talking to the man. “Doesn’t matter.” She beamed at me. “Will you marry me, Brandon?”

The weight—the heaviness that had been sitting on my chest like an anvil—lifted completely at her words. My mouth fell open, and even though I wanted to shout from the rooftop of the highest casino in Vegas, no sound came from my throat.

I was frozen at that moment, and it was the best thing that had ever happened to me. There was no doubt in her expression—no wondering if we were doing the right thing or caring about what this guy had just said. That it wouldn’t be legal.

It didn’t have to be. Just knowing she was willing to spend her life with me was enough.

Something happened to my eyes—something strange and unnerving. I think they filled with tears. I felt like my heart was going to burst open. This had to be what euphoria felt like.

I couldn’t make my tongue form words—it had turned into a tangled mess, and I was sure I was never going to be able to speak again. All I could do was nod—I knew it wasn’t enough to tell her how much I wanted her. A simple bobbing of my head wasn’t nearly enough to tell her anything, let alone how much I loved her. How much I adored her. And how much I loved that she loved
me
—whatever version of me I really was.

Her eyes began to shine, and I recognized the same tears in hers that were in mine. She walked over to the side of my bed, pulling my hand into hers and lacing her fingers through mine.

She turned expectantly to the man, who I presumed was some sort of chaplain now, though he wore no name tag or anything official. But I didn’t care—I didn’t care if it had been some clown off the street she had found, as long as she said the words. As long as I knew for sure that she was okay with
me
.

Her voice lowered to a whisper and she turned to look at me lying in my bed. “Are you sure?”

I nodded again before I somehow found my voice. “I don’t have the ring, though. I don’t know where anything went.” I felt a pang in my chest—I had to give her a ring. And I’d had one. The perfect one. But I couldn’t remember what had happened to the stuff I’d had in my pocket. My clothes were gone. Everything was gone. Everything except for Jen.

She smiled at me, and I knew then that it didn’t matter. “I don’t have one for you, either.”

I wanted to laugh, but I knew it would hurt too much. So I only nodded again, trying to smile before turning my gaze to the man who had stepped into the room and was now standing in front of Jen as she held my hand.

“Very well. Do you, Jenna, take this man to be your husband?” He cleared his throat. “I’d do the long version, but under the circumstances—“

She interrupted with her answer. “I do.” She turned again to gaze into my eyes, beaming. “I take
this man
. You.” She nodded and a tear slid down her cheek. “No matter what. And forever.”

I squeezed her hand as she wiped away the tear with the back of her other hand. I hadn’t been strong enough to do it before, but something about the way she said those words made me feel like Superman. I knew we could both conquer anything if we did it together.

The chaplain cleared his throat again and we both turned to look at him. He stared at me. “And do you take Jenna to be your wife?”

It wasn’t like I hadn’t noticed that he hadn’t used my name. It was pretty obvious, even in my drug-addled brain, that all of us knew the reason he hadn’t. And I had to remind myself again that it didn’t matter. At least, it didn’t seem to matter to Jen. Not now.

She turned to me and I stared into her eyes, trying to telegraph to her everything I felt for her. “I do. Forever.”

The man let out a long sigh—almost as though he was annoyed—and we both turned back to him again. “Then I pronounce you … provisionally … husband and—“

A voice interrupted from the doorway.

“I object.”