His Reboot Girl (Emerald City #3) by Sofia Grey

Chapter One
    Her voice was familiar. Her face wasn’t. Then again, my entire memory consisted of the last thirty minutes. She could have been my sister, if I had one, and I wouldn’t have known.
    “We have to leave.” The pretty blonde glanced over her shoulder, as though listening for something. “The police will be here any minute.” She snapped her attention back to me. “Baby...” She hesitated. “If you want to stay free, we leave right now.”
    Why was I in the hospital? Thoughts tumbled through my head in random patterns. If my brain were a computer, it would have suffered a catastrophic failure and be struggling to come back on line. How did I know her? Without waiting for my reply, she dug into a shoulder bag and pulled out a bundle of clothes. “Here, put these on.” She turned to the bank of monitors beside the bed, flicked switches, and yanked the sticky pads from my chest and wrists, to let them drop to the floor. It stung. She ripped a larger pad from my forehead, and the monitor began beeping. The tiny jolts of discomfort acted like a slap in the face. They woke me up.
    “ Scott! ” She pulled back the covers. “Hurry, baby. Please .”
    Somewhere beyond the door to my room, a siren squawked and then wailed.
    “Come on,” she said. “That’s our diversion.”
    I had no idea where I was, or even who I was, but her urgency was infectious. I dragged loose sweatpants over my legs, idly noting the fresh cuts and bruises, before stripping away the backless gown and wriggling into a baggy hoodie. My entire body ached and complained at the sudden movements. More cuts adorned my arms. They were all fine and shallow. Had I fallen through a plate glass window?
    “Feet.” She held out a pair of loafers, and I pulled them on. The whole thing had taken less than a minute.
    I sought my voice. “Wait.” The siren noise ramped up a notch, from tolerable to loud, and was joined by the clattering of feet in the corridor.
    “What?” She grabbed my arm and hauled me upright. My head pounded like a bass drum. “We don’t have time for this.”
    “Who are you?” Out of the hundreds of things I should know, this seemed the most important. I swayed on my feet. For some reason, I was weak as fuck.
    “Baby”—she looped one arm around my neck in an awkward, rapid hug—“I’m Adele.” She pressed a delicate kiss against my chin, and then tugged the hood to cover my head. “I’m your girlfriend. And right now, I’m the only thing standing between you and a jail cell. Get your ass moving.”
     
    ****
     
    I stumbled in unfamiliar shoes, every step sending shards of pain rocketing up my spine. Adele slipped her arm through mine and led me through the masses of people in the process of leaving the building. The hospital . An automated voice droned directions, telling us to leave by the nearest exit. We didn’t need to know where it was, we just blended in with the crowd, and I limped along as best I could.
    A long, white-tiled corridor gave way to a stairwell, and Adele fiddled with my hood. “Keep your face away from the cameras.” What had I done?
    I’d woken in a strange bed, with a blinding headache, and a great gaping hole where my memory should have been. A harassed looking nurse had asked me questions, none of which I could answer, and then she’d disappeared. The doctor that followed did little more than note my vitals. The conversation had been stilted. “I can’t remember anything,” I’d said. He’d muttered about retrograde amnesia and then told me to rest, and that was when Adele appeared.
    We burst from the stairwell into an underground parking area, and Adele led me away from the crowd. “Our ride is here.” When she threw open the sliding door of a large Mag-Car with no windows in the back, I climbed in without question, desperate to sit before my legs gave way. Nausea roiled in my gut, and I sucked in a shallow breath and tried to quash it. Christ. Never mind falling through a