Searching her face, he tried to see whether there was any condemnation in her eyes.
He couldn’t find any, but he had to say something.
“Addison, I…”
She stood. “Don’t say anything, Spence. He had me trapped for so long I wasn’t sure I was ever coming back. It was hell. I wanted him dead.” She swallowed. “Maybe I’m bloodthirsty or sick or something, but I’m so glad he’s dead.” She rubbed her head against his shoulder, then she closed her eyes. “Are you okay?”
His throat felt tight. “I’m okay.” He kissed the top of her head and whispered so only she could hear, “I love you.”
He hoped that said everything he wanted to convey; he hoped she understood what that meant. To him, it said, “I killed for you. I would die for you. There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t give you if it was in my power to give. I’ve never said this to anyone else, and I never will again.” It wasn’t that he didn’t want the others to hear; it was just that the first time a person said “I love you,” it should be private. Only he had no idea whether it would be the last time as well.
She kept her head pressed against his arm as she turned her face slightly toward him. “I love you, too.”
He closed his eyes. So much had happened in such a short time, and they weren’t done. Forcing his heavy lids open, he reminded himself that his job wasn’t finished yet. He’d rescued the damsel—after she’d rescued him twice—and now they needed to find the child.
“Jeremy.”
It was all he needed to say. Addison nodded and let go of his arm. He regarded the rest of the group. Most of them had made a deliberate choice to look away and give them space. Jack, who was usually the most polite out of all of them, had not. He was looking at Spencer with an unreadable expression on his face.
“What?”
Finally, Jack smiled. “You’re a lucky man. Most of us in Safe Dawn will never get that, ever.”
“I know.”
Addison moved ahead of him, opening and closing the doors of empty rooms.
She’d gone through three unsuccessfully. Opening the fourth door, she ran in, and he heard her laugh out loud. He followed her, closing the door behind him to give them privacy.
Addison embraced Jeremy as if she feared he might vanish into thin air if she let go. His blond head lay on her shoulder, his eyes open but clouded, like he’d been drugged. Spencer believed he had been. Not that he was a doctor, but how else would they have kept a four-year-old so quiet?
“Auntie, Loretta said we were going on a trip.” He closed his eyes and snuggled closer to Addison. “I don’t like it here. I don’t want to come here anymore.”
Tears rolled down Addison’s cheeks. “Okay, little guy, we won’t come here ever again.”
The door slammed open and men dressed in black rushed into the room. Coldness filled Spencer’s veins. He knew those uniforms—Roman usually wore one. They were Fury guards. Addressed as simply a number, not a name, to preserve their anonymity even from each other, they were fierce and unbeatable.
“You’re not going to be taking that child anywhere.”
Grace Ann Charters sauntered into the room like she was shopping for shoes. Spencer didn’t have to guess where his friends were; the Fury with power-dampening abilities was probably already hauling them into the back of a van.
“You kidnapped him.” Addison looked like a lioness prepared to fight anyone who came near her cub.
“Is it really kidnapping? After all, he’s my grandson, and nothing bad happened to him.”
Addison laughed, a long, hard sound. “I don’t know what planet you’re from, but I’m afraid it’s the one called Delusion. He’s not related to you at all, lady, and I’m taking him out of here.”
“Didn’t your slut sister Jeanne tell you anything before she gave him to you? She seduced my sweet son, Craig, before he was so abruptly taken from us, and the result is in your arms. Now give him to me.”
“You don’t have a son named Craig. I know all your children.” Addison backed away from Grace Ann and the Fury. There was nowhere to go except out the two-story window, and he wondered if she was going to jump. If he could, he would find a way to help her.
“From my first marriage—the one I never discuss—I had Craig when I was eighteen. He was just twenty when he died. Way too young for your sister to have seduced. Not to mention that she polluted my blood line with that thing.” The last word was directed at Jeremy. Spencer wanted to smack her—hard.
He scanned the crowd of Fury looking for Roman. He was nowhere to be found. He was both relieved and annoyed. The former because it meant his brother wasn’t participating, and the latter because he might have—even remotely—helped them a little bit. As it was, he and Addison were majorly outnumbered and clearly screwed.
“That’s why you sent Loretta to us—so you could monitor your ‘grandson.’ Is that it?”
Grace Ann lifted a perfectly sculpted brown eyebrow. How did women of her ilk do that? “Well, yes, but also because it afforded me a chance to spy on your grandfather. Now give me the Conditioned, Addison. We have plans for him.”
“What plans?” Addison continued to back away. “You don’t believe the Conditioned should even be left alive.”
Spencer stepped forward. She was getting crazed. He couldn’t have her doing anything stupid or desperate. Three men in black moved forward.
“I’m not going to do anything. I’m moving to Ms. Wade, okay?”
“That’s right.” Grace Ann wasn’t done talking yet. “I don’t think they should be left alive, and that’s why I need Jeremy. You see, his disgustingness is quite interesting. He can eliminate—not just dampen but eliminate—powers in all Conditioned people everywhere. Once he gets a little trained, I’m going to wipe the Conditioned from the face of the Earth.”
“Oh hell, Grace Ann, do you realize you sound like a megalomaniac?”
“Shut your mouth, Addison Wade, or I’ll have someone shut it for you.”
Urgency compelled him to speak. “Wade Corporation has shown over and over again that to remove a person’s Condition leaves them dead, or at the very least in a permanent vegetative state.”
“And your point?”
She really was a sick bitch. “You’re going to kill all of us, every one of us?”
“The world will be better off without you.”
Addison hollered, “No wonder my sister never told us who his father was. She must have known you were crazy.”
“She did have some choice words to say to me—as did your father all those years ago when I presented a similar, albeit less simple, plan of elimination to him. That’s why they both had to die.”
Spencer watched Addison turn three shades paler. He moved forward again, terrified she was going to faint.
“You killed my family?”
Grace Ann nodded. “Yes, dear, and if you don’t put down the child, I’m going to have these men kill you.” She glanced sideways at Spencer. “After I have them kill him, since you two seem to like each other so much. Touching show in the hallway. I never took you for having a Condition fetish, Addison.”
A banging noise sounded in the hall, followed by the sound of footsteps. “You’re not going to kill anyone, Grace Ann.”
Spencer could have cried with relief. In his life, he’d never thought he’d be so glad to see Oliver Wade. “Gentlemen, step away from Grace Ann. I’m putting her on committee arrest, which thereby removes your loyalty to her.”
Grace Ann blinked rapidly and her mouth formed a perfect O of shock. “You can’t do that, Oliver. This boy—he’s my grandson, too, and he’s one of them. He’s Conditioned.”
From behind Oliver, Roman moved into the center of the room. He didn’t spare a glance in Spencer’s direction.
Oliver continued to speak. “I know that, Grace Ann, and that’s why number 3 here”—he nodded toward Roman—“is going to take the child now and deliver him to William Rhodes at Safe Dawn for securi
ng.”
“No, Grandfather, please,” Addison shrieked. “Don’t take him. I won’t let you take him!”
The Fury moved fast. Two of them grabbed her from behind, pulling her arms back. Roman yanked the child from her arms. Having gotten what they wanted, the two Fury holding her let her go immediately.
“Roman, you can’t do that.” Addison was begging, but Spencer knew it wouldn’t do any good. His brother was a Fury first, second, and third.
Turning his back on the room, Oliver issued one more command. “Take the Lewis fellow, too. He needs to be locked up. He’s broken all kinds of rules here today. It might be time to put him down.”
“No.” Addison’s pleas were becoming almost incoherent. Stumbling forward, she grabbed her grandfather’s arm. “Take me instead. I’m Conditioned. Not Jeremy. It’s me.”
“She’s lying, Mr. Wade. I’ve been with her for days.” Spencer took a deep, steadying breath. He could do this. Somehow, it wouldn’t kill him to say what had to be said. “She’s just an attention whore. God forbid this not be about her for two minutes. You guys don’t have to take me in—I’ll come quietly. Even death would be a relief after listening to your granddaughter yap for so long.”
Without sparing her a second glance, he proceeded down the hall. He couldn’t let himself look at her or he’d be destroyed. Thank God he’d told her he loved her. Please, he prayed for the first time since he was a child to a God he wasn’t sure didn’t hate him, please let her remember how I feel. All he could do was hope his deception had been enough to save her life. Even if his was over.
Twenty-Two
Spencer’s words struck Addison like a physical blow. She shook her head. She knew what he was doing. In his own way, he thought to protect her. But it was just nonsense. Did he think she could just go on if he was taken away and killed, or “put down” as her grandfather had disgustingly said? There was no way in hell she could let them take Jeremy.
Ears ringing and chest tightening, she ran forward, tears streaming down her face. Spencer walked so quickly toward the waiting Fury van that she barely caught him before he stepped inside.
“Don’t do this, Spencer. Tell them the truth. Tell them you were helping me, that this was my fault. Tell them I’m one of you.”
Spencer shrugged off her arm as one of the guards opened the back of the armored vehicle and pushed him inside. He looked up at the guard, his expression unreadable, the swirls she’d come to count on missing from his eyes.
“Will you please get this person away from me?”
“Ma’am,” one of The Fury addressed her. “We need you to unhand Mr. Lewis immediately.” Strong hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her backward. She fought as hard as she could as she caught Tara’s eyes. Tara sat in the truck, her hands cuffed together. Releasing Addison, the Fury moved in front of the truck so she couldn’t get near it.
“Tara,” she shouted into the truck. “Tell them what I can do; tell them the truth. Make them take me, too.”
Tara cleared her throat. “I don’t know what she’s talking about. She’s as normal as they come, except whinier than most.”
Why the hell were they all doing this? Would no one help her, no one tell the truth? “Tara.” Her voice was strained with frustration as she begged one more time.
Sitting forward in her seat, Tara looked her straight in the eyes. “I hope you’ll remember all of us, Ms. Wade, when someday you take over your grandfather’s place on the committee.”
Addison shuddered. They were all doing this because they thought she could help them on the committee? No, she’d rather die than sit on any board that was headed up by Grace Ann and her grandfather. She whirled around. Maybe it was too late to reason with Spencer, but she wouldn’t let them take Jeremy—not when she’d just gotten him back.
Roman approached another truck, her nephew still in his arms. A crack of thunder sounded in the sky, and the clouds opened, pouring rain down on them. She realized numbly it was the perfect ending to a horrible day. No way was she finished. She couldn’t be this ineffectual. It just wasn’t possible.
She raced to his side and grabbed Roman. He glanced at her, his eyes blank as if he was looking at a person who meant nothing to him; someone he’d never spent any time with at all. “You can’t take him, Roman, please.”
He spoke to the crowd that was forming behind her. “Committee Member Wade, I do believe your granddaughter is hysterical.”
“Please, Roman, he’s just a little boy. We don’t actually know that he can do what she says he can do. She could be making it up.”
“Jeremy Wade will be tested like any person brought into the institutions. You’re welcome to file an appeal with the committee for reconsideration, and I’m sure, especially given your personal relationship with the members of the board, that they will take your concerns into consideration.”
Abruptly, he climbed into the truck, Jeremy asleep on his shoulder. Her grandfather grabbed her arm as the roaring of the engines filled the air around them. The sound made her cold inside. Everything she’d had for such a short time, the things that had become the most important elements of her life, were being ripped away, and she would never get them back. They were going to be destroyed. She swallowed the lump in her throat and made her hysterical tears stop by sheer force of will alone. The rain would do her sobbing for her.
When her grandfather spoke, she could hear the derision in his voice. “I’m going to assume all this is out of some misplaced concern for your late sister’s child and because you are exhausted.”
“He’s your great-grandson.” Didn’t that count at all?
“We are not above the law we help to enforce. If Jeremy is Conditioned, he belongs where others can be kept safe from him, and certainly he’s too dangerous to be around you.”
She bit her tongue to stop the words she wanted to fling at him. Quickly, she made a crucial decision. Her grandfather and the Fury might have won the day, but it wasn’t over—not by a long shot. One way or another, she would get them all back. She would triumph over this.
She raised an eyebrow as she placed her practiced superior expression on her face. She regarded her grandfather with the same remoteness that he used on her. “What about Grace Ann? She’s all but confessed to murdering Jeanne and Mom and Dad. You can’t let that go unpunished. It would be so humiliating for you.”
“You let me handle Grace Ann.”
She nodded like he’d told her he was going to handle a business account instead of commit murder. That was fine by her. If ever anyone deserved what they clearly had coming, it was Grace Ann Charters. In some ways, it was a relief not to have to handle it herself.
The ride home in her grandfather’s car was silent. She noted he had a new driver and wondered briefly if he’d had Gregory killed or if he’d just fired him. How would her grandfather weed out who had betrayed them and who hadn’t? In the quiet darkness, she shrugged. It didn’t matter. As soon as she figured out what to do, she would leave and never come back.
Finally back in their apartment, she paced around her room, trying to come up with some sort of cohesive plan that she could actually implement. If nothing else, she was a type A, task-oriented person. Surely, she should be able to work through this and come to some sort of conclusion. When her head finally pounded beyond the point that she could stand it, she lay down in the bed with a cold compress over her eyes and let sleep take her.
When she woke with a start, it was still dark outside. She ripped the cool cloth from her eyes. She stood up and rushed to the chair next to her desk.
Methodically, she reached for the sweater she’d abandoned there earlier. Feeling in the pocket, she found what she’d sought: the piece of paper containing Roman’s scribbled numbers. Was it too late? Spencer had been taken away. Was it past time to use them? She sighed. It wasn’t like she knew what they meant.
She stared at the paper but nothing changed. It was still 18, 22, 64 and 50. Not long enough to be a phone n
umber. No matter how many times she rearranged them, she couldn’t seem to form any codes or words based on the numbers. Besides, why would Roman have encoded a message in numbers when he could have just written down what he wanted to tell her using letters?
She set the paper down next to her computer as she went to the kitchen to pour herself some water. She leaned against the counter and tried to recall everything Roman had ever told them. He was such an oddball. She’d discounted most of what he’d said as sibling rivalry with Spencer and his being a valued member of the Fury. But what if it was more than that? What if he’d actually been trying to communicate some information that was relevant?
They’d been standing in Jeremy’s room. She’d just brought Spencer back from dark space and he’d come in full of information they’d needed but not known. Realization hit her hard. He’d mentioned a name to Spencer, had wanted to know if he knew who it was. Spencer hadn’t. In typical Spencer fashion, he’d been uninterested because it came from his brother. Roman had said it out loud. If he hadn’t wanted her to hear it, he wouldn’t have done that. If nothing else, he was careful about what he said and did.
Even when he’d taken Jeremy away—something that would always make her blood burn—he’d been gentle with him. The name. She needed her mind to remember. What was it? Like a light dawning, it hit her. Guy McKidd.
Who the hell was Guy McKidd?
Addison rushed to her computer. Spencer might not know him, but this was the time of technology. You could find anything and anyone on the internet. Opening up the search engine, she typed in the name and instantly she saw five hundred pages pop up.
The first few seemed inconclusive. Several people on multiple social networking sites had the name, but a quick review proved they were unlikely candidates. Nothing about them screamed a-ha. The next few sites were business sites. Several Guy McKidds worked in business, one was a physician in Cincinnati and two were serving in the armed forces overseas.
None of this was setting off any bells in the “A-ha, I’ve solved it!” department. She moved to the next page of results, becoming convinced she’d made a mistake and was wasting her time. Her hand paused on the mouse and she read the blurb about the page the browser had suggested. “Conditioned man still missing—police warn public he is extraordinarily dangerous.”
Illicit Senses (Illicit Minds Book 1) Page 23