The Defender (The Carrier Series Book 2) (3 page)

I’d been shot, too. What kind of evil world would bring us
together only to rip us apart time and time again?

Well, at least I could join Nolan in heaven.  

Sunlight streamed onto my face, gently coaxing my eyelids to lift.
My eyebrows wrinkled as I slowly looked around the room. An unfamiliar fog
flooded my brain—where was I? My fingers rubbed my eyes and when I opened them,
the fog had lifted somewhat. I was in bed at my college apartment on the campus
of the University of Wisconsin in Stevens Point.

Was I late for class?  

The clock on the bedside table read 9:30 and there was noise down
the hall—sure signs it was the weekend. I knew I should get up and see what my
roommates were doing out in the living room, but the warm blanket cocoon was
too nice to part with.

My college friends and I had formed great friendships our freshman
year, and it was weird not seeing them for three months last summer. Kasie had
barely any money saved up for tuition, so she spent her summer working double
shifts lifeguarding at the local pool and waitressing at a supper club at
night.

Elaina and her family always spent the summer months staying cool
by the lake at their northern Wisconsin cabin—no obligations and no cell phone
service.

Sharon had a chemist uncle who needed an assistant to help promote
his product overseas for the summer. She spent ninety days whirling through the
countries of Europe peddling Zit-B-Gone to red-faced teenagers.

Clara was a Natural Resources major and she and her boyfriend much
preferred to spend their summers camping deep in the forests of northern
Wisconsin studying animal tracks and constructing beaver traps out of
all-natural materials.

Last semester we decided to rent a house for our sophomore year.
We settled on a basement apartment right across the street from the Student
Center on campus. That way we could drag our butts out of bed last minute and
stagger our way into class when we needed to. We tended to stay up too late
talking, laughing, and doing dumb things like riding large pieces of cardboard
like sleds down the stairs.

The basement seemed fine when we toured the house, and the price
was right, but as I was lying in bed I realized it was a mistake. I could hear
what could only be described as elephants walking in the apartment above me and
it was beginning to make my head hurt.

I shoved the blankets off me and sat up onto my elbows, but a pain
shot up my left arm. I took the weight off and rubbed it with my other hand.
Upon inspection, I noticed oversized yellow and brown areas.

Old bruises. Curious
.

I didn’t remember banging up my arm. I inspected it again and
noticed an unexplainable scar over the bone. Strange. I’d never had arm surgery.
I looked closer; maybe the lighting was in the basement bedroom was poor. It
did feel pretty tender; I must have injured it somehow.

Slight panic began to set in as I racked my brain and could not
remember one detail about the day before. Had I been drinking the night before?
That didn’t seem like a likely scenario, although I couldn’t remember what we
had been up to.

“Wake up, Ava,” I said outloud.

I got out of bed still rubbing my arm, and gave a stretch before
waking my computer up. No new messages. I grabbed for my phone which was
sitting on the ledge of the small window above my bed. Another reason the
basement apartment was possibly not the best idea we’ve ever had—this was the
only place my phone could get any reception. No new messages on my phone
either.

Disappointing. No clues to the previous night’s events.

I threw on a bra and left the room in my pajamas. Kasie’s door was
closed—she was still sleeping. Kasie was an adorable, petite blonde sorority
girl who became one of my best friends last year. She was a hardworking
Dietetics major who dreamed of being a personal trainer and dietician to the
stars. She was always reading
US Weekly
and
People Magazine
to
stay on top of the A-List. I knew that dream was a bit out of her reach. We
were three thousand miles from LA! How could a little Midwestern Dietetics
major find her way out west and “make it” in the craziness of Los Angeles?
 I never had the heart to tell her I thought so, of course.

The next bedroom down the hall belonged to my freshman year dorm
roommate, Elaina. The door was open, so I assumed she was out in the living
room. Last year we were randomly paired up and we got along great. Well, except
for the time when Elaina had decided to hit a house party, returned home drunk
as a skunk and puked inside my backpack. I had been less than enthused the next
morning when I was greeted by an offensive smell and ruined homework. Elaina
was truly embarrassed and apologized profusely. The next day she bought me a
new backpack, and swore she wouldn’t go to any more house parties.

Elaina was a French major. At first I found that rather strange,
but she was very good at speaking French and really enjoyed learning about
foreign cultures. As I got to know her more, I found out she had dreams of
becoming an international spy one day, and when she had Googled it, she learned
that being fluent in a foreign language is an expected quality in the world of
espionage.

The last bedroom was Sharon and Clara’s. They were roommates in
the dorms freshman year and had volunteered to share a bedroom again. We let
them have the biggest bedroom as a consolation prize.

Sharon and I bonded over education. She was studying to be a
Special Education teacher, and although we had no classes in common, we could
discuss politics and methodology. Well, only when a serious mood struck us, of
course, which wasn’t very often.

Sharon pledged Delta Nu during the second semester of freshman
year, and so she and Kasie were always together. Sharon was usually the
instigator of all the crazy stuff we did and we loved how she could make us
laugh until our stomachs hurt.

She invented Exercise Ball Rodeo, a game in which you try to
wrangle one of those oversized workout balls through various obstacles. The
game was really challenging, and although it was hilarious, someone usually got
hurt in the process. Nothing major, until Clara broke her foot rolling into a
wall-mounted fire extinguisher, and then the game was dead.

Clara was a sweet, petite girl who truly loved being one with
nature. She was an avid hunter and spent most of her time out of the house and
in the woods somewhere. We really didn’t see her too much.

Their door was open too, and I could hear Sharon’s boisterous
voice in the living room, which was open to the kitchen. Sharon was frying eggs
at the stove and Elaina was reading her French textbook.

“Mornin’ Lady! Long time no see!”

“What do you mean?” I looked to Elaina for an answer.

Elaina seemed concerned. “You must have got in really late last
night!”

“Oh, right…yeah…got in late.” I rubbed my head. What was going on?
A tiny radiating headache was starting behind my right eye. Why couldn’t I
remember last night?

“How was your long weekend?” Sharon asked. There was some type of
inflection in her voice I couldn’t quite read. It was like she was suggesting I
did something special.

“My long weekend?” I had no idea what she was talking about. “What
did we do last night?”

Elaina looked over at Sharon as if neither knew what to say.
Finally Sharon broke the silence.

“Um, honey….” She walked over to me and put her hand on my
shoulder. “We don’t know what you did last night.” She led me over to the couch
and sat me down. Then she returned to the kitchen and poured me a cup of
coffee. “Remember? You left Thursday morning for the Dells, and you only would
tell us that you were meeting a mysterious special friend you met this summer.
We all thought you had some secret boyfriend!”

“Yeah! We figured you snuck in last night when we were all
sleeping.” Elaina moved from her spot on the loveseat over to my side on the
couch. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

I had no idea what she was talking about, and my head was
beginning to pound. “Secret boyfriend?” I said under my breath. “What day is
it?”

“It’s Sunday the 14th.”  Sharon had poured herself a cup of
coffee and joined us on the couch.

I tried to make sense of the calendar in my head. “May 14th?” I
took a sip of my coffee, concerned that that didn’t seem right. Or was it
summer? Why was I with my college friends?

Wake up, Ava.

“No, honey,” Elaina said slowly. “October 14th.” She looked quite
worried now. “Why don’t you head back to bed for a while? I don’t think you’re
all the way awake yet.”

October 14th? October 14th! What happened to summer?

The room began to spin and my arm started to ache again. I handed
off my mug of coffee to Sharon and stood up. “I think I’m going to head back to
bed. I’ll see you guys later.”

I rushed down the hallway to the room on the end. I shut the door
to my bedroom and leaned up against the back of it. What was going on? Why
couldn’t I remember anything? I had been going to school for a whole month
already? I couldn’t seem to pull any memories of sitting in classes this year.
Confused, I lay down on the bed and pulled the blankets over my head. I let out
a frustrated grunt and wondered what I should do next.

I rolled over and picked up my phone off the rectangular bedside
table, turning it in my hands for a moment, and then dialed my mother. Leaning
far over into the wall to find the perfect spot, I listened to the phone ring.

“Hey, hon! How are you?”

“Hi, Mom. I’m alright.” I was hoping she wouldn’t hear the concern
in my voice.

“What are you and the girls up to today?” Dishes clanked in the
background.

“I’m not sure. I think I have a paper to write,” I lied. “We’ll
probably just hang around here and do our homework.”

“Well, that’s no fun!” My mother laughed. “Naw, actually, I’m
really proud of you, Ava. This will be your best semester yet.”  

I had a feeling getting good grades was extra important to me, but
I couldn’t quite remember why.

“Hey, Mom.” I wasn’t sure how to ask this without giving away my
problem. “What have you and Dad been up to lately?”

Come on Mom, help me out. I’m going insane.

“Let’s see. After you left the house Saturday afternoon, your dad
and I went out to the farmer’s market and then to dinner at The Wilderness.
They have the best shrimp and steak special in October. We just couldn’t
resist!”

So I was at home this past weekend and it is October.

Dammit, what was going on in my head?

My mind was still very cloudy, and I just couldn’t put anything
together to make sense.

“Did you miss me already, hon? I just saw you, you know!” My
mother laughed her wonderful laugh, inducing a homesick heartache in my chest.
“Well, here’s a kiss for ya—muah!”

“Thanks, Mom. Yes, that’s exactly why I called,” I lied again.

“Well I’ve gotta get going. Dad had to run to work, but I’m off to
church. Love you!”

“Love you too, Mom.” Then she hung up and I held the phone to my
ear for another few seconds, staring up at the ceiling. A tear flowed from
under my eyelid, down my cheek, and into my ear. Maybe I did need some more
sleep. I hung up the phone, put it on the table, and rolled over toward the
wall. I prayed that when I woke up my mind would be clear and this strange
nightmare would be over. Soon my breathing was slow and even, and my eyelids
began to feel heavy. I knew I’d be out in a matter of seconds.

My phone’s alarm woke me up. I rolled over to turn off the
annoying sound.

7:30…7:30!
In the morning?

I jumped up on top of my bed and looked out the tiny window near
the ceiling. The sun was rising off to the right. I had slept through the entire
day and all night?

My stomach ached with hunger, so I grabbed a granola bar out of
the box on my bookshelf. As I chewed, I thought about yesterday morning’s
events and scanned the room for some clues to jog my memory. I saw framed
pictures of my family and friends, and remembered everything about when those
pictures were taken. I could remember last year and events from when I was a
younger.

I grabbed my silky green robe off the hook on the back of the
door, and headed down the hallway. All the bedroom doors were closed.

Yes, right. I was the only one who had an eight o’clock Monday
morning. Eight a.m. Monday morning…hmmm…Bio 101. I smiled. Were things starting
to come back to me? I could picture myself sitting in the lecture hall in the
science building. I was still smiling as I turned the water on. The cloud
hanging over my head was lifting as I woke up, and the pain in my arm had
pretty much gone away.

What was my problem yesterday?

I knew exactly how to get to my biology lecture, and felt strangely
proud of that fact. Biology was a bore, as usual, but being the serious student
that I for some reason felt I wanted to be, I took notes and tried to pay
attention. I couldn’t help my pen from making random doodles on the margins of
my paper, however. About halfway through the lecture I had drawn a beautiful
tree up the left side of the notebook and extended the branches over the top
margin. I added some fall leaves turning colors all over the branches. Then I
sketched myself sitting on a limb part of the way up the tree. Standing near
the trunk I drew a very handsome man with dark hair and sideburns talking on
his cell phone. It was an odd thing to draw, but perhaps my pen was listening
to the lecture on the biological classification of trees. And the man? Well, I
always thought I’d meet my husband in college. Maybe he’ll have dark hair and
sideburns and, of course, be as handsome as a movie star.

After class I took a detour to the student center instead of going
straight home. I wanted to stay away from the house for a while until my memory
returned to me a little more. I couldn’t confront my roommates until I knew
what was going on with me.

The student center at UWSP is basically a hodgepodge of
institutions that don’t fit anywhere else on campus. It’s home to the
bookstore, a cafeteria, a large banquet hall, meeting rooms, the gift store,
student lounges, Greek Headquarters, and the Cardio Center. I found a nice
comfy couch on the second floor lounge by the fireplaces and took a seat all
the way to one side. Any luck and some hottie would take the other half of the
couch. I let my dark blue backpack sit on the floor at my feet, and decided to
people watch for a while.

There was a lot of action this time of day, and I had plenty of
people to observe. Although the weather had turned pretty brisk, many of the
guys were still wearing their summer shorts. It’s a Wisconsin thing—we try to
hold onto summer as long as we possibly can because an undoubtedly long and
cold winter is always on its way. Alternately, many of the women were still
wearing their warm-month flip-flops. My toenails were painted red and peeking
out of the toe of my sandals. They wouldn’t see socks until the snow
flies…which could be any day.

I casually scanned the room and this time someone caught my eye.
Sitting all the way on the other side of the room on a couch near the exit was
an extremely handsome man. He stood out among the college crowd wearing a fancy
suit. Only a professor would be wearing a suit on campus, and he seemed too
young to be a professor.

I took a good look at his face and felt mild pain behind my eyes
and an uncomfortable pinch in my heart. He was staring straight at me—smiling
an adorable, sweet smile. The headache got worse, but he was drop-dead gorgeous
and I couldn’t take my eyes of him.

He smiled and I was suddenly overcome with embarrassment. Panic
forced me to quickly avert my eyes to the floor and try to calm my heart
drilling out of my chest. Perhaps if I pretended to dig in my backpack for
something, I could steal another look at his perfect face. My tiny brown eyes
peered through the space under my upturned elbow, but the couch was empty. He
was gone. I popped up and whipped my head around, checking all the chairs and
couches in the lounge.

No suit anywhere.

Suddenly something purple smushed into my face. A large torso
wearing a UWSP T-shirt had tripped over my backpack and landed half on top of
me and half on the open space of the couch. Sharp pain radiated from my
curiously injured arm, and I grunted as I tried my best to push the big lug off
of me.

People around us laughed as the guy struggled to get unwrapped.
His legs and feet were still tangled within the straps of my backpack. “Sorry,
sorry! Oh bugger!”

An overpowering British accent forced me to assume he was an
exchange student. The guy reached down and finally unwrapped my backpack strap
from his ankles, but stepped on my bare toes in the process.

“Ow!”

“Oh bloody hell, so sorry!”

Finally free of me, he sat down on the empty spot of the couch.
The guy looked older than the average college student, and had buttery blond
hair that lay longer than his ears. A hideous, large cowlick flipped right
above the middle of his forehead. I imagined a tiny surfboard with a little
Hawaiian dude sliding through the middle. I wanted to tell him that seat was
reserved for someone with better hair, but didn’t have the heart to.

“Are you okay?” His awkward hands were all over me like I was
being frisked by airport security. I slapped his paws away and he pulled back
considerably.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said, sarcasm laced through my voice. My
fingers brushed the brown hair out of my eyes, my heart wanting this loser to
leave.

I scanned the room. Where did that handsome, fancy guy go?

But the creep kept talking. The accent was already starting to get
a little annoying. It was like I had to strain my ears to determine what he was
saying.

“Are you sure you’re doing alright? Looks like I got your arm,” he
said pointing. It took me a second to understand what he was saying and then I
looked down. I hadn’t noticed I was rubbing it, so I stopped abruptly.

“Look. I said I’m fine.” Then for the first time since I got
trampled, I looked the guy straight in the eye. He radiated an average, very
ordinary vibe. I flashed him my best “scram” look.

Ah, there!

In my line of sight, right past the guy’s kind of large head, I
thought I saw someone wearing a dark suit near the exit. I leaned over ever so
slightly to see past, but that put my head to rest on Mr. Creep’s shoulder for
half a second.

Shoot
.

He got the wrong idea and slid an arm around my left shoulder.
Apparently my “scram” look needed a little work.

That was enough foolishness. I stood up quickly and grabbed my
backpack, peering at my pretend watch. “Hey, look at the time! I gotta go to
class.”

“Wait!” he yelled a little too loud and half the room stopped to
look at us.

I have to get out of here, and fast!

But against my better judgment, I faced him once more. “What?” I
asked impatiently. I had a bad feeling he’d follow me if I fled the room.

“Do you know how much a polar bear weighs?”

“Excuse me?” This guy was unbelievable.

He stood up and held out a hand to shake. “Enough to break the
ice. My name is Adam Greene, and it was a great pleasure bumping into you.”

Wow, two horrible jokes in one breath.

A laugh and a smile snuck out beyond my control. He reminded me of
my dad—always a joke. Always a bad joke.

I guess I may have reacted a little harshly. I shook his hand
cordially. “Nice to meet you, Adam. I’m Ava Gardner. See you around campus.” I
tried to let go of his hand, but he held on tight and stared deep into my eyes.

“I certainly hope that is the case, Ava Gardner.” His ordinary
smile pulled back to display some actually handsome teeth. Adam pleasantly held
my gaze for a few seconds. Suddenly this guy was in fact quite charming and
seemed to remind me of someone, I just couldn’t think of who. He let go of my
hand, winked at me, and turned on his heel to walk off toward the front exit.

I watched Adam stroll away without looking back. Somehow I
couldn’t take my eyes off him until he was out of my sight.

What just happened?

I had intense feelings of hatred toward my molester and then in a
matter of minutes he somehow brainwashed me into feeling a little gooey inside.
I shook my head, trying to clear it like a magic eight ball. “Outcome unclear,”
I said out loud as I turned and walked toward the opposite door.

The walk home should have taken approximately forty-five seconds,
but it was such a nice day outside I decided to take a detour around the
backside of the block, breathing in the brisk autumn air. I finally descended
down the steps and through the door to our basement apartment, where I was
greeted by the delicious smell of grilled cheese the instant I walked in the
door.

Kasie was at the stove. “Hey, sleeping beauty! We missed you
yesterday.” She smiled as she flipped the golden brown sandwich in the pan.

“Yeah, I can’t believe I slept that long!” I opened up the fridge
and took out a Diet Coke. “And I can’t believe you guys didn’t wake me up!”

“The girls said you just weren’t yourself and thought you probably
needed to catch up on some sleep.” She got the ketchup from the fridge. “Are
you feeling better?”

“Yes. Absolutely.” I took a seat on the couch and turned on the
TV. It was quiet around the apartment. “The others at class?”

“Yup. Do you want a sandwich?” Kasie plated her grilled cheese and
squirted a blob of ketchup on the side for dipping.

“No thanks. I can make myself something in a few minutes.” I
absentmindedly flipped through the stations. Two hundred channels and never
anything to watch.

Kasie brought her plate over to the living room and took a spot on
the loveseat across from me. “So, how are things?”

Hmmm. That might be girl code for,
What the hell was up with
you yesterday?

“Listen, I just had some weird headache thing going on. I promise,
I am much better today!”

Half-truth. I was better, but still not the Ava I was used to.

“Good, because it’s Monday and you know what that means?”

Then we both said at the same time, “Karaoke Night!”

Partners, a bar strategically placed right in the middle of a
two-block radius of student housing apartments, hosted underage night on every
other Monday—a night when students under twenty-one were admitted into the bar
to sing karaoke and play pool. We all had to wear bright orange wristbands to
indicate our legal status, and the place was always crawling with police. My
friends and I didn’t care. We weren’t there to try to drink beer, only to sing
and hang with friends. If there was one bar activity I was good at, it was
karaoke! It must have been all the summers at the boat tours.

My thoughts slowed down for a second. Yes…I was a singing tour
guide for the Lower Dells Boat Tours.

All of a sudden it was like my brain’s filing cabinets were slowly
opening and someone was filling them up with memories of working at DBT.

“Jack…” I said under my breath. My eyes stared at the wall above
Kasie’s head as I searched for more memories.

“What?” Kasie asked through a mouthful of sandwich.

“Oh nothing. Nevermind.”

Curious. Very curious.