Page 11 of Stone Coast (Tyson Wild Thriller)

Even though I could walk, they wheeled me out to the carport, and a staff member helped me into Grayson's car. It was a new black BMW. I climbed into the leather passenger seat, pulled the door shut, and he hustled around to the driver’s side.

"I really think you should stay with me for a few days,” he said. “Everyone thinks that would be for the best."

"Everyone except me," I said, with an innately defiant spirit. "And last I checked, I have the final say."

Grayson frowned but surrendered. "You're the boss. If you change your mind, the offer stands." He paused. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone."

"I have to prove something to myself."

No matter who I was before, I sure as hell wasn't going to be incapacitated moving forward. I didn't know what normal was at this point, but I wanted to get back to normal as soon as possible.

Grayson drove me across the island toward the Pelican Point Marina.

I looked out the window, taking in the sights for the first time.

Pineapple Bay was a nice place. Clear blue skies, 72°, swaying palm trees.

A slice of paradise. But I felt like I was in purgatory, neither here nor there. Heaven nor hell.

We pulled into the parking lot at the marina, which was filled with sportfishing boats, sailboats, motor yachts, houseboats, and a few starter superyachts.

I climbed out of the car and surveyed the marina, looking for something to spark my memory.

“Know which boat is yours?" Grayson asked.

I gave it a minute, hoping it would come back to me, then I shook my head in defeat.

“Can you explain to me how you are going to make it through an entire day without someone there to guide you through the nuances of daily life?”

I shrugged. "I’ll rise to the challenge."

He sighed and shook his head in frustration. Grayson escorted me down the dock to the Intrepid . It was a well-maintained 32-foot Sunwerks Zephyr with a teak deck, Bimini top, and solar panels .

"And yes, I've been looking after your boat,” he said.

"Thank you."

We boarded the Intrepid , and I pulled out my keys. I stared at them for a moment, then deduced which one opened the hatch. I unlocked it, and we climbed into the dim cabin.

I took a look around, hoping it would spark a few memories. There was a galley to port and a small settee to starboard. Forward was a salon, and forward of that was a day head and a V-berth. There was another aft berth below the cockpit.

The place felt familiar. A vague sensation, but nothing concrete. Like I had been here before in a forgotten dream.

Grayson watched as I explored my new space.

His hopeful eyes followed as I stepped into the forward berth and looked at my things. He took a seat on the settee while I explored my domain.

I instantly went to a compartment and found a few pistols. I grabbed a subcompact black 9mm Bosch-Haüer PKT X9, press-checked it, and holstered it in my waistband for an appendix carry.

This was instinctual. I didn’t have to think about it. Like Tyson had said, don’t think. Just do . I was getting in my own way, trying so hard to put the pieces back together. I needed to just submit to the unknown. Embrace the uncertainty. The chaos. Trust it will all come back in due time.

Easier said than done.

I pulled the shirttail of my tank top over my waistband to cover the grip of the pistol, but you could still see the faint outline.

This wouldn't do.

Grayson would see it.

After what Tyson had said, I didn't want to walk around unarmed.

I grabbed a light sweater and put it on, fastened it at the bottom, then returned to the salon.

"Are you cold?"

"I'm skinny as a rail, and I have no fat on my bones. Yes, I’m a little chilly.”

He gave an understanding shrug.

I grabbed my laptop, took a seat at the settee across from him, and flipped open the lid. The security screen displayed, and I stared at it for a moment, trying to remember my password.

Nothing came to mind.

The harder I tried to remember, the more frustrated I got. Then I took a breath, relaxed, and didn't think about it. I put my fingers on the keyboard and let them do whatever they wanted.

The same way I had field-stripped the weapon, my fingers danced across the keyboard.

It worked. I was past the security screen.

Grayson looked astonished and hopeful. "Did you get in?"

I nodded .

"You remembered?"

"Sort of."

He smiled. "That's fantastic!”

It was a start.

"Look, it's late,” he said. “You don't have any food here.

I know you want to regain your independence, and I want that for you.

But you're not superwoman. You can't do this alone. Why don’t you come back to my house?

I'll cook you dinner. There's a guest room where you can stay.

If you're not comfortable, I'll take you to Olivia's, or if you insist, back here.

Just ease back into the strong independent woman thing. "

I hesitated for a moment. A million thoughts ran through my head.