I USED TO KNOW HIM

CHAPTER SEVEN

     Margret Danson was about twenty-five and, besides her deep auburn-brown

hair and lovely face, she boasted an equally attractive body. He found

himself captivated by the warm thrust of her breasts beneath the silk

blouse. The clear milk of her flesh, at the "V" of her throat excited

him in a strange way. When he thought of her as his wife, it was

frightening. It was as though someone had tossed him a woman and

expected him to just fall into the routine of marriage. It wouldn't be

hard to come to love this woman, but it would take awhile. Hell, he

didn't know her. She was a complete stranger who had suddenly told him

they were married. There was nothing familiar about her; even the

fingers that were softly working over his face were alien.

Alien! That's it! The whole damned world is alien, and I don't know who

I am who I've been...

     "Margret?" He asked suddenly, "how long have I been gone? You act as though

it's been a long while..."

"A long while, darling."

"How long?"

     She looked steadily at him for a moment, her eyes deep with seriousness.

"Thirteen months," she whispered, her voice shaking.

Thirteen months! He relaxed heavily in the straight backed chair and

stared at her dumbfounded. Over a year! Where had he been? What had he

done? Why hadn't he been located before now?

     "Thirteen months," he croaked, unable to say anything else.

She nodded. "Oh, Nick, every police agency in the country has been

looking for you. I've had detectives out hunting. CallumBrice has been

doing everything, he can to locate you. But they couldn't. No one could.

It was as though you had disappeared from the face of the earth."

"CallumBrice?" Nick asked.

     "Your best friend..." When she realized that, he knew nothing of the man,

Nick could see her starting to cry. Her eyes began filling and he could

almost see the hopelessness within her.

"Please, honey. Don't start crying again."

"I'm trying not to."

     He rose to his feet slowly, his head starting to thump and thunder

again, and took her into his arms. It was somewhat difficult, trying to

comfort her the way a husband should, but he tried.

     "Listen, Margret," he whispered against her cheek. "It'll all come back to

me. It'll all come back eventually and I'll remember. But for now...

for now, you'll have to bear with me. I don't know where I've been, or

what I've done, so don't tell anyone I'm here. Please! Don't tell a