Free Remember Me by Priscilla Poole Rainwater Page A

nod, he replied, “Alright, let’s do it.”
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    Cassandra was glad she had decided to go for an afternoon walk. Breathing deeply, she savored the evening air that smelled of freshly mown grass, and enjoyed the sounds of laughter coming from neighborhood kids playing. She had found and purchased a novel Cynne’ had told her about, and on a whim, had decided to treat herself to a manicure and pedicure.

Sipping her vanilla mocha coffee, she waved and smiled at several people here and there, and stopped occasionally to make small talk with neighbors. Children were running up and down the street playing, while their mothers stood watching them, all the while gossiping about the other neighbors. Several senior citizens sat at the community garden, on picnic benches, regaling themselves with tales of yesteryear. It was what she loved the most about the area she lived in, it had a modern-day, Mayberry feel to it, laid back, unlike the rat race in a large city.

As she strolled down the street she noticed a black Hummer parked in front of her apartment building. It was rare to see such an expensive vehicle in the small, sensible, working class mountain town. As she got closer, she noticed several children looking over the vehicle, admiring the expensive rims. When she got within a few feet of the Hummer the front doors opened, and the children moved back as a man and woman got out and walked towards her.

“Ms. Washington?”

Freezing in place, she immediately recognized the tall, handsome Asian man, the one who had spoken to her at the street fair. Standing beside him was a tall African American woman, who smiled disarmingly. Still, it was unsettling to her that he knew her name. How did he know my last name was Washington? I didn’t tell him my name when he approached me at the street fair! She thought, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she took two steps back.

The man stopped and held up his hands. “Wait…wait….we just want to speak with you, that‘s all.”

The rear doors of the hummer swung open, and two more men, one white, one black, stepped out, which further spooked her. Both of them were well over six feet tall, but it was the white man that really caught her attention. His gaze was riveted on her, there was no other word for it, and he had a commanding air about him, a massive, self-confident presence. He was dressed in an expensive tailored suit that softened his rugged good looks. He had a deadly look to him also, and his square jaw sported days-old stubble. His black, wavy hair gleamed in the sunlight, and fell a few inches above his crisp white collar.

When her own gaze met and locked onto his cold, cobalt eyes, she suddenly felt her knees grow weak. Oh God, his eyes, he was the one who hurt me! She thought, wanting to scream it aloud. But she was paralyzed with fear, incapable of flight or words.

Advancing another step towards her, the man spoke in a hoarse voice. “Cassandra, don‘t you remember me?” he said as he reached out to her, almost tentatively.

With inner alarms going off, she finally found her legs and took two steps back fearfully.

“Wait, wait, don’t run, listen to me! My name is Granger, Granger Mortenson, and…I’m your husband .”

Granger! The name rang in her mind. Then, almost as if someone was standing right beside her, whispering in her ear, a voice rang out in her mind. He’ll kill you if he finds you! And he will make certain he finishes the job, this time! The coffee she had only moments before been enjoying slipped from her suddenly nerveless hand, the hot liquid splashing all over her shoes.

Seeing the woman’s distress, Joy, Raidon’s adoptive sister, stepped forward and spoke in a warm, confidential tone. “Mrs. Mortenson, I’m Doctor Joy Bishop. Listen, I know you’re confused right now, but there’s something very important about your past that you need to know