WASHED AWAY by R.C. Bolt: Release Blitz, Excerpt & Teasers

“Do you know my name?”
Every muscle in my body goes rigid. “Excuse me?”
Her chest heaves, and the movement clearly causes her pain, but her lips flatten stubbornly. “What is my name?” Those blue eyes are troubled now, fear edging in, while distress practically oozes from her voice.
“You don’t…know your name?” I ask slowly, carefully gauging her reaction.
“No.” She swallows audibly, her eyes filling with tears. “I don’t remember anything.”
Fuck.
I scoot my rolling stool closer and take a seat beside her. Peering at her, I try to decipher whether she’s being completely honest.
I’ve learned to be suspicious over the years, especially with living in part of the denser, remote jungle areas bordering the coast.
“Well, what I can tell you is”—I lace my fingers casually—“you’re not pregnant, you have an IUD for birth control, and the panel I ran on you says you’re negative for any sexually transmitted diseases.
“You’re also blood type O, and your X-rays showed some broken bones—both previously incurred and current.
“Two of your ribs on your right side showed current hairline fractures, likely sustained during your…accident.”
I pause for even a flicker of acknowledgment but get nothing. Nothing, that is, except witness her expression bloom with stark terror.
“I removed two bullets from your shoulder and two more from your side near your hip. You also suffered a considerable stab wound.
“The X-rays indicated you most recently broke your index finger on your left hand. It’s since healed.”
She stares down at her hand, now trembling slightly, as if it’s grown a head of its own. I don’t bother informing her of the other bones in her body that indicated a previous break or fracture.
Broken left wrist.
Fracture near the base of her right elbow.
Fractures of most of the small bones in her right foot.
Broken nose.
Fractured jaw.
Straightening her fingers, she wiggles them before her eyes cut to mine. A thread of panic lines her tone. “I should remember something like that, shouldn’t I?”
I scan her features again for evidence of deceit but come up empty.
I’m dealing with a woman who has a severe case of amnesia.
Sonofabitch.