by Cynthia Eden
And she did. She wasn’t even sure if she tried to see it or if it just happened. But the hospital room vanished. The bed vanished. Jay and Sawyer and Elizabeth all vanished.
She was suddenly in a motel room. One with threadbare carpet. With cracks that cut across the ceiling. The salty scent of an ocean drifted to her.
She was staring up at that ceiling because she was lying on the threadbare carpet. Willow felt herself struggling to breathe. She lifted her hands and could see the blood on them. Her blood.
Her body was so cold.
Wood cracked. Her head managed to turn and she saw the thin motel room door come flying open. Wyman stood in the doorway. A different Wyman. Strong. Wearing a dark suit, but with his eyes blazing. He saw her on the floor, and all of the color drained from his face. “Willow!”
Then he was rushing toward her. Falling to his knees at her side. His hands reached out, not to hold her, but to press against her wounds. She had so many wounds. There were other men behind him. One guy in glasses. Armed soldiers.
His guards. He always traveled with guards. The only time he was without them—that was when they slipped away. Just her and Wyman.
She wanted to slip away. To go back, maybe to the little cabin they’d sometimes stay in when they wanted a holiday together. No one else around, no one to see, no one to know who they were.
“I’m going to kill him,” Wyman promised her. His words were so angry and cold, and she knew he was speaking the truth. He didn’t lie. At least, not to her. He’d once promised never to lie to her.
“I made him,” Wyman continued darkly, “and I’ll end him.”
She wanted to talk, wanted to tell him so much, but Willow couldn’t speak. And everything seemed to be getting darker.
“No!” Grief tore through the anger that had been in Wyman’s words. “Don’t you do it, baby! Don’t!” And suddenly, he wasn’t pressing on her wounds. He’d yanked her up against him. He was holding her so tightly, rocking her back and forth, and she could have sworn that she felt wetness on her cheek.
His tears?
“I can’t lose you!” He held her tighter. “You’re the only good thing in my life. The only thing I did right. I won’t lose you, baby! You’re too young. You’ve got too much living left.” He was still rocking her. She wished she could hug him back. “You’re going to get married. Going to have a family. Going to have those big Christmases like you always wanted. You’re going to walk on the beach. God, baby, you love the beach. You’re going to hike and eat your chocolate and laugh and you’re going to—Willow?”
Her body felt strange. Hollow.
Empty?
He shook her. “Willow? Willow, look at me!”
He was all that she could see. There was terror on his face—and his face was crumbling. Tears were in his eyes, and he was shouting, swearing that she’d live.
“I’ll make you live, baby! This isn’t the end for you. I swear it!”
But she was dying, and he was breaking apart before her. She wanted to hug him, to tell him that everything was going to be all right, but it wasn’t.
She wasn’t.
Chapter Fourteen
“Willow!”
Jay’s sharp voice had her snapping back to the present. To him. His arms were around her, and he’d yanked her away from the bed. Elizabeth had lunged toward Wyman, and she was shouting orders to others who’d entered the room—a man and a woman, both wearing green scrubs.
“Willow, are you okay?” Jay asked her.
No, she wasn’t okay. Because Wyman’s worst fear—it was her death. And everything about that scene had rung true to her. People couldn’t fake their worst fears when she touched them. Wyman’s nightmare was her death.
He’d cared about her. He’d cried for her. And he’d sworn to do anything to keep her living.
Willow swallowed the lump in her throat. He had done anything. He’d brought her back from the dead.
“We have to stop the bleeding!” Elizabeth barked. “He needs to get back into surgery. Dr. Brannon, he needs help, right away!”
They started to wheel the bed out of the room. Willow surged away from Jay and grabbed Wyman’s hand. His head turned. His gaze seemed so weak, but he tried to smile at her. “B-brought y-you back…”
“Wyman…”
“D-didn’t know…about all s-side effects…n-not then…just m-memory loss.”
“This man needs to be in the OR!” The guy in green scrubs snapped. “Now!”
“Learned…others…t-too late…that’s why I-I kept you in l-lab…trying to h-help…p-protect…”
She squeezed his hand. Made herself step back. There was so much blood.
“H-he’s c-coming…” Wyman whispered. “S-sorry…”
And then he was gone. He’d been wheeled out of the room, and she was just standing there, her hands twisting in front of her. The image of her own death was still in her head.
“Are you okay?” Sawyer’s voice. Sawyer had moved to a position in front of her. “You went absolutely white when you were touching him. You started shuddering, and I thought you were having a seizure. You didn’t stop, not until Jay pulled you away from Wyman.”
She glanced at Jay. He was watching her with an unreadable stare. Forcing herself to breathe, nice and slow, Willow tried to gather her thoughts. “Did you think he was lying?” Sawyer’s senses were so sharp, surely he would have picked up any tell-tale sign of deception from Wyman.
Sawyer shook his head. “No. I think he was telling the truth.”
Jay swore.
“So do I,” Willow confessed. “I saw what he feared, and it was me. Me, dying.”
Jay swore, low and viciously.
“I died,” Willow continued. “I was stabbed.” Her hands slid over her stomach, as if searching for the wounds that should be there. “I was in some motel room, near the ocean. I’d been stabbed over and over, and left to die.”
Jay surged toward her. “You aren’t dead.”
“Not anymore. Because Wyman brought me back. He couldn’t let go.” Her stare slid toward the door of the hospital room. He’d been taken back to surgery. But even as he’d been led away, he’d been warning her about danger. “If I wasn’t the monster he made…” Another slow, deep breath. “Then who is?”
“My money is on the bastard who killed you.” Jay gave a grim nod. “And I’m going to find him.”
A shiver slid over her, and for just a moment, she could hear a man’s voice in her head. You belong to me.
Her lover. Had her lover killed her? Was he the monster Wyman feared so much?
“I’m going to check with Elizabeth. See what the hell is happening.” Sawyer rubbed a hand over his jaw. “The bastard tore himself open.”
Because he’d wanted Willow to believe him.
She didn’t speak again, not until Sawyer was gone. The machines were silent. The room suddenly seemed incredibly cold, but she could feel Jay’s gaze on her. Watching. Waiting.
“I believe him, Jay. I believe what I saw. Fears can’t lie.” People could lie. Words could lie. Fear didn’t. Fear was basic and primitive. Fear was people at their weakest. “Wyman was afraid for me. He didn’t want me to die.”
“So he put you in Lazarus. He kept you locked away in a lab and called that shit love.”
She flinched. “I think that he did love me, in his way.”
“And the bastard out there? The one Wyman called a monster?”
Bits and pieces were in her mind. Not the full picture. Just the whisper of fear. Fear doesn’t lie. “I…I was hiding from him. He found me.”
“Yeah, but was the bastard your enemy? Or Wyman’s? Were you collateral damage in one of his wars? He made a monster, and the guy came gunning for the one person connected to Wyman on a personal level—is that what happened?”
She had goosebumps on her arms. “It’s more.”
A furrow appeared between his brows. “What?”
“I saw him. Had other flashes
. He wanted me.”
“You saw the sonofabitch killing you?”
She shook her head. “No. A man…found me. Said we belonged together.” And the motel room had been the same. She shivered again.
He stepped closer to her.
“I think that I was afraid of him.”
“A lover.”
She couldn’t be sure, not with so many memories gone, but… “I believe so.”
Rage burned in his stare. “Wyman knows the guy’s identity. If he hurt you, Wyman should have taken the SOB out.”
“Maybe he couldn’t.” Not if he’d made a monster. And this was nagging at her. “Are we so sure that Lazarus was Wyman’s first experiment?”
Shock covered Jay’s face. “Fucking hell.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Should have thought…of course, the guy didn’t start with Lazarus. You don’t go all in from the very beginning. I bet he’s been doing work with soldiers for years. Making them stronger, better.”
That was what she feared.
“He’ll tell us,” Jay vowed with certainty. “When he’s out of surgery, the guy will tell us what we need to know. I saw the way he looked at you. You are his priority. He’ll give me the bastard’s name. We’ll find him.”
She rubbed her arms. “You think that he’s the one who’s been doing all this?”
“The shot at the club? The fire? Sure as hell could be. Right now, he’s at the top of my list.” He came even closer, but he didn’t touch her. She wanted him to, but he didn’t. “I know you want to run.” His voice was low. Rumbling. “I know you want to head the hell away from me as fast as you can.”
“It’s not—”
“But I need you to stay. Until we figure out what’s happening, until we know who he is…stay. Let me help you. Let the others help. You don’t have to be alone in this world.”
She’d been alone in that motel room. Alone on the floor. Bleeding out as she stared up at the cracks on the ceiling. Then Wyman had rushed to her side. Too late.
“I’ll keep my hands off you, don’t worry.” His lips thinned. “But don’t run again. Not yet, okay? Let’s see what the hell is happening. We need to work together. To be part of a team.”
Jay and Sawyer were a team. A team that included Flynn and Cecelia. And Elizabeth. And West. They were all working to find the rest of the Lazarus subjects. To see if those subjects were threats or if they were just people. People who needed help.
They’d found her. Or maybe she’d found them. But she’d never really felt like part of the team.
“I won’t stop you if you want to run. I’m not here to cage you, Willow. That’s not what I want.” His gaze blazed at her.
“What do you want?” She hadn’t meant to ask that question, had she?
He gave a grim laugh. “I think that’s obvious.”
“It’s not.”
“You, Willow. I want you.” He rolled back his shoulders. “Having you once, twice, three times didn’t cure me. It just made me need you more. There is no cure. But like I said, I can keep my hands off. Because this isn’t about sex. It’s not about me. It’s about you.”
He was doing that again. Putting her first when he shouldn’t be. Trying to protect her when she was the threat to him. “I’m scared.”
His hand lifted as if he’d touch her, but Jay seemed to catch himself. His hand froze in mid-air. “You aren’t alone, Willow. You were never alone. Hell, apparently, you had the guy who ran the U.S. government pulling every string he had to keep you alive. Wyman might be a bastard, but I think he loves you. You were never alone,” he said again. “And you don’t have to be alone now.”
She wanted to stay with him. And wanting that so much scared her even more. “We’ll wait. Find out who the threat is.”
Jay nodded.
“I’ll stay.” Her words were soft. He had no idea how much she wanted to stay. Didn’t know how hard it had been to leave.
Will I ever be able to leave him again?
His hand had lowered. He was staring straight at her. “Maybe the next time you do decide to run, baby, why don’t you think about running to me?”
“Jay…”
“I don’t have super strength. I can’t come back from the dead.” His expression was determined. Dangerous. “But I’d fight like hell to keep you safe. When will you see that? This isn’t about atonement for me. You’re more. Willow…” He sighed out her name. “So much more.”
And finally, some of the coldness that had settled inside of her eased. The image of the ceiling filled with cracks…of that threadbare carpeting…of all the blood—the image slowly faded.
Until all she saw was Jay.
Her lips parted. “Jay…”
The hospital room door swung open. “His wound reopened.” Elizabeth hurried inside. “Don’t know how this happened. I watched Dr. Brannon perform the surgery the first time.” She shook her head, sending her dark hair sliding over her shoulders. “Wyman is being put under right now. They’re going to take care of him, but it will be a while. And after the surgery, it’s going to be hours before he can talk again.”
“Did he just tear open some stitches?” Jay asked.
But Elizabeth shook her head again. “No. It’s a lot worse.” And her stare was grave. “The wound was bad, Jay. And Wyman wasn’t exactly in the best condition before he got shot. His body…I’m sorry, Willow, but his body is frail because he has cancer. It seems he’s been battling it for some time, and it’s spread. I’d need to bring in a specialist, but Dr. Bannon already told me that he doesn’t think Wyman has a lot of time left. Maybe a year at the most.”
She felt her cheeks ice. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said again. “Sawyer told me what happened in here and I just…” She stepped forward. Put her arms around Willow. Hugged her. “I’m sorry,” Elizabeth told her again.
Willow just stood there. The ice was spreading inside of her. “He’s dying?”
Elizabeth eased back. Gave a quick nod.
She’d just found him. The man who was her past. The man who’d made her into what she was. And he was going to die?
“Not today,” Elizabeth’s face showed her sympathy. “He’s not dying today. Dr. Bannon will get the bleeding stopped. Wyman will need some time to rest, but after that, you can come and talk with him again. You can learn everything you need to know.”
Everything, but still lose the man who said he was her father? Not her biological father, though, Jay had told her that.
What had happened to her real parents?
“Go home,” Elizabeth urged her. “Rest for the evening and tonight. The guards are here. They’ll all stay here after the surgery. By the morning, Wyman should be stronger.”
Okay, yes. There was no point in staying. Except that she wanted to see Wyman again. She wanted to talk to him. To remember.
Even if he’d been the one to take her memories away.
Elizabeth turned back for the door.
“Did you know about other experiments?” Jay questioned, stopping her.
Elizabeth’s spine straightened. She glanced at him. “What?”
“Other than Lazarus, did you know about other experiments that Wyman was doing? Maybe running on soldiers?”
Elizabeth’s dark gaze was troubled. “No, I was only working on Lazarus.” She hesitated. “But knowing Wyman, I do believe there could have been more.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Jay was at Willow’s side, but he still didn’t touch her. “Call us if anything changes?”
“Absolutely.” Elizabeth’s promise was instantly given. Then she was gone. Willow was alone with Jay in the room. There was nothing for her there. No reason to stay but…
“He’s dying?” Her voice seemed small.
“Not yet, he isn’t,” Jay said. “Not yet.”
She pressed her lips together to stop the tremble.
***
Willow was hurting.
Jay sat across from her in th
e back of the limo, his gaze on her face. Her profile was turned toward him as she stared out of the window. She was right there. He could reach out and touch her, but she seemed to be a million miles away.
He could almost feel her pain. Her shoulders were stiff. Her chin up. But every now and then, her lower lip trembled. His hands were clenched in his lap so he wouldn’t reach out and touch her. He’d promised not to touch. She’d run from him the last time he’d touched her.
He’d hold back. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. He fucking wouldn’t.
“How can I hurt inside, for a man who did this to me?”
His gut tightened. “People can do crazy things for love.”
Her head turned toward him. He felt her stare like a physical touch. “You think he loves me? Wyman is the man you’ve called a bastard. A psychopath. You’ve said he wanted to build an army of super soldiers. That he killed innocent people.”
“Yeah, and I’m not saying he’s suddenly flown to sainthood.” Never would happen. “But even people who are bad, well, they can love.”
“Do you…do you think I could ever love?”
Now he knew he had to tread very, very carefully. “Don’t see any reason why you can’t.”
“Lazarus subjects are supposed to be all about the dark emotions.”
“You can’t have dark without the light, baby. And are you going to sit there and tell me that you don’t think Sawyer loves Elizabeth? Or that Flynn wouldn’t gladly give all of his lives for Cecelia?”
Once more, she looked away.
More silence. The sun was setting. They lingered too long at the hospital, but he hadn’t been up to forcing her to leave. Not until Willow was ready.
It had been one hell of a day. At least she was going back home with him. And at least he had a new target now. Willow might have been a ghost online, but the man who’d killed her, Jay would be finding him.
Then he’d destroy the bastard.
“Do you want to know my worst fear?”
Jay forced his hands to unclench. “I already know it.” Keeping his voice gentle was an effort. “Being locked up. That’s why—”
“I dreamed I hurt you. I killed you. There was so much blood, and there was nothing I could do.”