Keeper of His Heart
Chapter 9
Tim froze for a few seconds. Hearing the name of the person closest to his heart spoken from her lips sent his mind reeling. Having long ago dropped all pretences in concealing her voice, the Red Woman had spoken in a smooth, familiar tone that gave Tim goose-bumps.
It may just be a coincidence…It may not actually be her… His rational side argued.
The pieces of the puzzle were all laid out before him, but Tim was too cowardly to take the final step to find out the truth for sure. Hope was bubbling into his soul, warming his heart. He knew and was afraid of the disappointment he would feel if it was all a lie.
"Sam." He spoke the name as if testing how it sounded on his tongue, all while trying hard not to draw the parallels between this Sam and his Sam. Their palms were pressed together, their hands clasped in a firm grip as they exchanged pleasantries.
Electricity danced between them. "It's a pleasure." He managed to add.
"Likewise." Sam smiled shakily as her name left his lips, feeling a shiver of anticipation. The baritone voice was intoxicating and sounded like music to her ears. It didn't help that she felt sparks once more when their hands connected. And judging from the slight movement of his Adam apple, she guessed that he felt something too.
The handshake was over within seconds, leaving both parties yearning for more.
Testing the waters, he asked. "You're not going to grace me with your last name?"
"No…I don't remember my last name, or anything much related to me to be honest…Amnesia."
"I'm sorry." He answered automatically, the cogs of his mind on overdrive. Amnesia…That could explain how Terence was able to convince her so easily…
"We should probably deal with that nasty graze." He cleared his throat uncomfortably and swiftly changed the subject. "I'm worried that it might get infected."
Sam made a sound of agreement, glad for the switch in topic. She made herself as comfortable as she could on the bar chair while Tim popped his first aid kit open. He slipped a pair of rubber surgical gloves on.
Tim approached Sam from behind, examining the wound carefully. Both her denim jacket and her woollen black turtleneck had been torn through by the bullet. Up close, he was thankful to see that the damage didn't appear too bad. The bullet had left a clean graze from her shoulder to her upper forearm. Patches of yellow, red, and dark purple were visible.
But that's just based on appearances…Who knows what kind of fabric threads and dirt I'll find in the wound? Bullets grazes tend to leave good conditions for infections to happen… Tim squared his shoulders, assessing the situation.
"I'm ready. You can start anytime." Sam told him.
"Well…I'm going to need you to…you know. Remove those." Tim answered with some hesitation. What was happening to him? He was acting as uncertain as a young schoolboy!
"Oh, right." Sam felt a blush coming, grateful she was facing away from him. It would seem like every time Tim Scam was around, she lost all traces of common sense and logic. Doesn't help that the man is so good looking! Tim had long ago shed his jacket, leaving him a black shirt that emphasized a well-defined muscular frame.
With some help from Tim, Sam managed to shrug off her jacket without much trouble. However, it was the over-the-head turtleneck which proved more cumbersome. Even with the much-needed assistance, Sam could not remove the skin-clinging fabric. Not without causing pain to the graze wound.
"This won't do." A mixture of despair and discomfort caused her to whine. The turtleneck was half-way up her back, showing quite a lot of Sam's smooth skin (and a hint of fabric of her cream coloured bra).
Swallowing heavily at the tantalising sight before him, Tim quashed his emotions and contemplated the situation. "I could…you know, cut it. That's if you don't mind? You could borrow some of my clothes? Or… Hang on…Alex and Clover have some spare clothes here; you could borrow those if you want."
Sam didn't have to think twice. Although the black turtleneck was one of her favourite shirts, the burning sensation in her shoulder outweighed her desire to keep the shirt intact. "Do it." She gritted out.
"Alright." Tim picked up the surgical scissors. Working quickly, he carefully snipped the fabric off from her back.
Several tense minutes later, Tim peeled back the woollen fabric off her shoulder. The right side of her turtleneck escaped the scissors unscathed, but Sam felt what was left of the fabric on her left side slipping. Trying hard not to blush, Sam's right hand hurriedly pressed the front of the shirt against her body to protect her modesty.
Tim appeared unaware of the red hue slowly creeping up her cheeks. He was focused intently on the wound before him. True to his fears, he could see some threads of fabric and dirt mixed with the dry blood on, and around the wound. He told Sam just as much. Other than one deeper graze, the rest were thankfully shallow.
"I'm going to clean the wound now." He turned away to prepare the necessary materials.
Sam winced as the cold alcohol on the gauze met her sensitive skin. The stinging pain was a contrast to the light, gentle hands she could feel dancing along her skin. She could tell that Tim's movements were slow and careful.
"So…" Sam tried to distract herself from her rambling thoughts by starting conversation. "Thriller novels? Can I just say that I'm not surprised?"
Tim continued his gentle cleaning of the wound. Although Sam could not see him, he cocked a confused brow. "How so?"
"Well, it's kinda typical, I guess? That a spy agent reads thriller novels about solving mysteries and fighting crime? Don't you have enough of it throughout the day?"
"What did you expect, for me to read fantasy? Or lord-forbid, romance?"
She found herself giggling at the image of this tall and charismatic man before her reading sappy love stories. "Not exactly but-"
"What do YOU normally read then?" Tim's voice raised in challenge.
That shut her up.
"Well?" He probed after a lengthy pause. He switched the now soiled sterile gauze swab for a new one.
The voice that answered him was quiet and meek. "Thriller mysteries." She said, but quickly countered, "but I read a variety of genres including general fiction and also non-fiction."
Tim stopped listening after the first word. He fought to contain his own laughter. "And you say I'm typical." He tsked sarcastically.
"Hey, at least I'm well read." She straightened up in indignation, only to wince when the gauze hit her wound directly.
"Stay still." Tim's no-nonsense tone returned. "And who says that I'm not well read?"
"Whatever it is," Sam changed the subject, "the latest Lee Child book is good. You'll never guess who the killer is."
"You've read it?"
"Yep. And let me tell you-"
"Stop right there. I don't want any spoilers." Tim finished cleaning the dried blood and debris from the surrounding skin of the wound. He would tackle the removal of foreign material from the wound itself next.
"Hold still okay. There is some woollen fabric lodged in the wound and I have to get it out."
Seeing Sam's body tense up his words, Tim racked his brains for a conversation topic. "Any favourite book?"
"Of all time? Oh, that's a tough one…" She scrunched up her forehead in thought.
The conversation flowed smoothly. Sam was so engrossed in telling Tim all about her favourite novels (she couldn't choose one honestly, there were so many!) that she barely registered the occasional short bursts of pain that shot through her system from the wound.
The work was slow, but he was meticulous: hands always steady and calm. It was no time at all when he finished cleaning, sterilizing, and bandaging the worst of the wounds with sterile dressing.
"Done." He declared, stepping back to look at his handiwork. Sam snapped out of her mid-speech in surprise.
"Already?" It seemed like time just flew by. She turned her head as far as she could. Spotting the pristine white gauze covering her wound, she sighed in relief.
"That wasn't too bad." Sam admitted, locking eyes with Tim. "Thanks. You're pretty good at this."
Tim chortled striding to the trashcan to dispose of the items. The rubber gloves were off his hands and went into the bin as well.
"You'll kind of pick up basic first aid if you're someone living the kind of life like I am." He commented cryptically. His next stop was the sink, where he washed his hands thoroughly.
"Besides," his eyes met her grateful ones. "I've kinda become Alex and Clover's go to First Aider. You have no idea what kind of scraps those girls can get into." He shook his head as he tried to count how many times, he had to help his colleagues cum friends deal with their injuries.
"It's a useful skill to have." Sam noted with a nod.
"It is." Tim agreed. He came to her side and thoughtfully draped her jacket over her shoulders carefully to keep her warm.
"Thank you." She smiled, her heart warming at the gesture. The level of thoughtfulness this man has…
"I'm going to make myself a drink. Coffee or tea?"
A glance at the wall-clock told Sam that it was fifteen minutes past two in the morning. Too late for caffeine if she was planning on sleeping anytime soon. "Tea would be great." She answered after some thought. "One sugar please."
"Coming right up."
She watched as Tim moved around the kitchen with ease, boiling the water and finding some cups. The man appeared to let his guard around her, which was a marvel. How does he trust me so much? For all he knows, I could be waiting for the chance to backstab him or something!
Then again, aren't I the same? Sam reflected. I let him treat me without any qualms. That's quite unlike me…
She knew it was unnatural for her to feel so comfortable around someone she barely knew; heck she only met him a few days ago! But she trusted him somehow. There was just something inside of her that told her he was good and harboured no ill intentions towards her. And she couldn't deny they had a sizzling connection, something that pulsed through her soul.
That scared her a lot.
What is his connection to me? Does he know who I am from before?
As the duo waited for the water to boil, Sam allowed her thoughts to drift. It had been an unexpected turn of events. She had pictured herself having a rational, peaceful conversation with Tim Scam (and maybe even meeting his colleagues Clover and Alex), but never in her life did she want Terence to find out about her deflection! Now that her hand had been showed, it looks like O.R.A.I.C is at a disadvantage.
Unless…
"Tim? I just thought of something." She spoke up.
"Hmm?" The man hummed as he fixed their hot beverages.
"Could you check in with your colleagues on how the search for Wayne is going? If he really got away and Terence catches wind, I think we'll have to act fast to stop them from evacuating the secret base."
Tim's eyes widened while he processed her words. He snapped his fingers suddenly. "Good point, why didn't we think of that?" He groaned.
Balancing two cups of tea in his hands, Tim crossed the kitchen in a couple of steps. He placed the beverages down gingerly, all while muttering under his breath to himself. "Here we have a direct connection to Terence and we never thought to see if Wayne has gone back to Terence…" Tim practically pounced on his cell phone and made a call to Alex.
As the line rang, Tim placed the call on speaker and set the device on the counter between himself and Sam.
"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line was slightly breathless.
"Hey Alex, it's me. What's the latest situation there?"
There were some rustling sounds, before Alex's voice came through loud and clear. "We're still searching Tim. No sign of Wayne Franklin. It's quite likely that he's gone." The frustration and disappointment were clear.
"He doesn't have his phone with him, so it's unlikely he managed to call for backup." Tim took the new information in stride.
"We've been tracking the blood stains he left behind. The trail ended about two blocks away from the clearing. Either he got smart and bandaged himself, or he was picked up by someone."
Tim was quiet as he processed the information. Seeing that Sam was gesturing for him to allow her to say something, he spoke. "By the way Alex, you're on speaker. The Red Woman is here with me and she thinks she can help us."
Tim hadn't thought twice in concealing the Red Woman's real name from Alex. The psychological trauma from the events a year ago were still raw for the two young superspies. Tim wasn't sure how his friend would react if he introduced a woman bearing her (supposedly) deceased friend's name, who also appeared to have a similar sounding voice (at least based on his judgement).
No. It was better to do this face-to-face.
Sam sent him a curious look, which he returned with a pointed glance of his own and a subtle shake of his head.
"Oh, alright." Alex was momentarily stunned. "Hang on, I'll get Clover."
Several moments later, both sides were on speaker phone.
Sam cleared her throat, suddenly feeling rather nervous. "Like what Tim said, we nicked Wayne's phone from him before we escaped. But I think he could have gotten a cab or hitched a ride or something."
"And Wayne told us in passing earlier that he informed Terence about it…Although I'm not sure how much is fact and how much is fiction to get us to cooperate." Tim added on.
"Could be both." Sam pointed out.
"We could check with the cab companies." Clover thought. "And see if there's any CCTV footage from the street."
"But it's the middle of the night right now! That could take hours that we don't have." Alex argued.
Alex had a valid concern. Sam took a deep breath before speaking her next line, "I think it's very likely Wayne would be heading back to our…Terence's underground base." She briefly described the location and provided directions on how to get there. Terence had also placed some security cameras among the forest foliage, and Sam reminded the women to be careful should anyone plan to approach
"We'll let Jerry know. He'll probably send some back up to keep an eye on the place." Alex said. "Thank you."
"The least I can do." Sam answered. There was a short lull after that.
"Speaking of Jerry… Tim could we speak with you for a moment? Jerry has a message for you… Hope you don't mind err… Red Woman." Clover said awkwardly.
"It's alright, I understand." Although her tone sounded neutral, Sam turned her head away and lowered her gaze. That action caused her wavy brown hair to act as a curtain, hiding her face from view. It was all done to conceal her embarrassment as Sam's lips wobbled.
Throughout the whole four-way conversation, she had felt like an equal-treated with respect and her words taken without judgement. It had gone so smoothly that Sam had forgotten who she was, that she was different from them.
One statement from Clover was all it took to remind Sam of her place. Ultimately, her decision to switch sides withstanding, she was still a wanted criminal.
I don't blame them for not trusting me fully…Sam reflected. But the flash of hurt surprised her. She was going soft, there was no other explanation for what she was feeling.
Tim shot her an apologetic look, hurrying to disable the 'speaker' mode function in his cell phone. "I'll be back in a minute. Make yourself at home." He told the young woman in front of him before stalking off to his bedroom.
Carefully shutting the door, Tim returned his attention to the call. "What does Jerry want?" He queried.
"Jerry told us to tell you to keep an eye out on the Red Woman for us." Clover said. "I know, I know you said she has deflected, but we think it's better that she be kept under a watchful surveillance until we know for sure."
Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get it. But there's just something about her girls. She took a bullet for me; you can't deny that."
"I trust your judgement Tim, but I have to agree with Clover and Jerry on this. The stakes are just too high. We can't afford to make a mistake." Alex said.
"I know…I get it. I can't explain it exactly, but my gut tells me she's trustworthy." Liar, you know exactly how to explain it. You're suspecting that she is Sam.His inner voice sneered at him.
"Just…be careful Tim. We'll try to drop by later. I know Jerry wants to talk to her. We're a phone call away if you need anything." Alex assured him.
"Roger. Thanks ladies. Keep me in the loop." Tim hung up the call wearily.
He took a moment to sort out his thoughts. I have my suspicions... But will the truth make me or break me?
When Tim finally emerged from his bedroom, he was carrying a set of clean clothes that belonged to Alex. With the frequencies that the two spies sought him out to treat their injuries, he had learned to keep some of their clothes here.
He found Sam perched on the edge of the two-seater couch, flipping through one of his thriller novels. She raised her head when she heard his footsteps approaching.
"Here are some clean clothes for you…They belong to Alex, and you guys look about the same size so…"
She took the bundle of clothing from him. "Thank you. Sorry for all the trouble."
Tim sat down next to her. "It's no trouble at all really. You're doing us a really big help."
A small smile crossed Sam's face. "I guess…"
"So," he cocked his head at the novel that was in her hand. "Is this any good?"
"Oh this?" Sam gestured to the thriller novel. "The blurb at the back looked interesting, so I picked it up. But I was just skimming through it really. Don't really have the energy to read anything now…you know what I mean?" Her head was literally whirling right now after all the excitement that had happened that night.
Tim nodded, indicating that he understood. He was exhausted as well. Straightening up, he motioned to the clothes he had given her. "You're more than welcomed to have a shower or just to freshen up. Jerry, Clover and Alex will probably be gracing us with their presence later."
"Joy." She answered sarcastically but made a move to stand. "I'll probably take you up on that offer."
Before she could move however, there was a low, growling sound. Sam's eyes widened in horror as she realized that the sound came from her own stomach. Tim couldn't hold back a bark of laughter.
"Hungry, are we?"
"Maybe a little?" Sam said sheepishly. Her cheeks were coated with a healthy shade of red. She fanned herself with a hand, trying to reduce her signs of embarrassment. "Didn't eat much for dinner." Cause I was so anxious about our meeting.
"I think I've got some leftovers in the fridge. If you don't mind, I can heat those up. I'm feeling a bit peckish myself."
"That'll be great. Thanks." She muttered, still mortified. Wordlessly, she followed the man into the kitchen.
"Let's see now…I've got some left-over pasta…And some scones from the bakery down the street." Tim said absentmindedly as he rummaged through the refrigerator.
"Cranberry scones?" She blurted out before she could stop herself.
At those words, Tim whipped his head around so fast that it startled Sam. As her brain caught up with the words she had just said, Sam felt like facepalming herself. So much for subtlety. She had planned to do more digging around before confronting anyone about her memory flashes…
"What did you just say?" The warmth in his sea-foamed eyes vanished, leaving only wariness and a tinge of contempt.
"Nothing…"Sam trailed off, taking a hesitant step back. Me and my big mouth.
"It's not nothing." Tim insisted, closing the gap between them with two large steps. "I know what I heard. Why, of all flavours of scones, did you guess cranberry? What do you know?"
Very few knew that cranberry scones were his favourite snack. He only allowed himself the occasional indulgences, so not even Clover and Alex had caught on. Sure, that information had been in the W.O.O.H.P database, but those documents had long been destroyed in the explosion.
As far as he knew, only Jerry and his Sam (and she had only known because she had hacked into the database) were privy to his favourite snack. So how did this Sam know?
No… There was only one possible conclusion. A lump formed in his throat.
"I…I…" Sam was lost for words as she witnessed the swarm of emotions flashing across Tim's face.
"Tell me." His tone was more urgent now. His hands moved to grip onto her elbows, giving her no possible escape.
"I…I have flashes of memories!" She finally burst out. "I saw myself giving you a bag of cranberry scones!"
The expressions on his face darken considerably, akin to dark clouds in the sky. Tim's eyes never left hers as he kicked the refrigerator door shut. The hands holding her elbows remained firm, guiding her to the bar stool which she had vacated less than thirty minutes before.
"Explain." He demanded. His tone was no longer harsh, but there was a rough edge to them, showing hints of emotions that Sam could not pinpoint.
Sam took a deep breath, wondering where to begin. Once she had gathered her thoughts, she launched into explanation.
"I know I said that I have amnesia." She began. "But I've been experiencing flashbacks recently. They started the first time I encountered Clover and Alex…The first time I met you, I had a memory of…sneaking a bag of cranberry scones through the bars of a cell…" She struggled to describe the details of the memory succinctly. "And there was a book as well…The title was…"
"To Kill a Mockingbird." Tim chimed in unison with her. Sea-foamed eyes had softened with every word she spoke and was now looking at her with what Sam could only describe as awe.
She gasped. "So, it's true then? Those really are my memories?" Sam's voice was urgent, all traces of earlier hesitation forgotten.
There was no one else there besides the two of us when all of that had happened…It really is her… Tim's brain connected the puzzle pieces.
Shakily, one hand left its place on the crook of her arm to cup her face. He ran a thumb across her cheek, barely able to believe his eyes.
Sam said nothing, only staring at him with wide, trusting eyes. She had an inkling of what this meant.
He was so overwhelmed with emotion that it took him a couple of moments before he found his voice once more.
"Sam? Correct me if I'm wrong, but you're wearing a disguise, aren't you?" His voice was rough and husky.
"I am." She confirmed quietly. "Why?"
"Could you…could you remove your disguise? Please?" Each word came out in a softer whisper than before, so his last words sounded like a desperate beg.
"Okay."
Tim's words and actions only confirmed what she had suspected all along. The man knew her as Sam; not the Red Woman Sam, but the Sam she was before the accident happened that led to her losing her memories.
With jelly-like legs, Sam walked over to the kitchen sink. After washing her hands, she carefully removed her contacts.
Catching sight of emerald orbs, he nearly forgot to breathe.
Tim stood rigid as he watched the Red Woman fumble with her wig (given her injured left arm).
"Let me." He finally spoke, walking up to her in a daze.
"Alright." She agreed.
It felt like forever (but it really took only a couple of minutes) for Tim to finally find and remove all the pins holding the wig in place.
And as long red hair tumbled out of their constraints, Tim took one good look at the young woman before him, and finally lost it.
Sammy…My Sammy….
"You're alive." He choked out.
So, there you have it folks, Tim knows. Feels like I've reached a milestone in this story by getting here haha.
Thanks Cresenta and Musin for reviewing the previous chapter, and to everyone else for consistently following this story! The plot will slowly pick up again soon~
Best wishes and stay safe everyone!
-TrixieNancy