“What do you mean they found a cure?” Caine asked, positive Max didn’t mean what he thought. There was no cure for having a monster that lived inside, there was no miracle solution. This was just a burden they’d all have to live with. He’d accepted that a long time ago.
“I mean, they found a way to kill the monster, leaving us completely human, Sean would rather turn more people into monsters. He plans to steal the scientist’s research and find a way to turn people, since injecting Hannah with the blood isn’t holding up the way he thought it would. I guess she was his first test subject.”
Caine’s stomach churned with nausea at the thought of Hannah being a test subject. She was a human being—not a lab rat.
“I lost his trail a long time ago,” Max said. “But I can only imagine he’s headed toward the lab—so that’s where we have to start.”
Rolling his window down, Caine gulped in a fresh breath of air in hopes of soothing the nauseous feeling in his stomach. He needed to get to Hannah, to make sure she was alright. Nothing else mattered—he had to save her.
***
When Hannah woke, she was in a room she didn’t recognize. Her vision hazy, she looked around, seeing a hotel pamphlet and a phone. If she could just get to the phone...
Looking down, she saw her wrists were now handcuffed to the arm of a chair in the hotel room. She pulled against them, but she was too tired to even move.
The last thing Hannah wanted to do was give in to Sean’s sick game, but she felt so weak, so worn out. Her body was burning up with a fever, and her arms were sore and stiff from the constant handcuffs. She didn’t want to die...not like this.
She knew what she needed. Sean had it...and he wouldn’t give it to her unless she begged.
“Please,” she said, her voice coming out in a whimper. “Sean...I’m so weak...”
He laughed at her, his voice echoing from somewhere across the room, but her vision faded in and out and she couldn’t see him. Death lurked, waiting for her, she knew. Unless she could convince Sean to help her.
“I’m dying,” she said, trying her best to stay awake, when all she wanted to do was let the fatigue swallow her whole. “You can help me...please...help me?”
She heard a triumphant sneer, and then his loud boots clunked across the floor as he walked up to her, finally moving into her line of vision. “Help you?” He asked, fake innocence coating his voice as he taunted her. “Help you how, Hannah?”
She winced at the thought of him enjoying her pain like this, but she was desperate, and completely degraded. “I need your blood,” she whispered.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t quite catch that...”
“Your blood,” she cried. “I need your blood or I’ll die. You know that, you asshole, you’re the one who did this to me!”
With a loud, maniacal laugh, he reached somewhere beyond the blurry borders of her vision and came back holding a paper cup filled with thick red liquid. Her heart panicked as he moved the cup to her lips.
Clamping her mouth shut, she shook her head, shrinking away from the cup. “That’s not...that’s not how we do it...” she stammered, the fear exploding like a volcano inside her. “Max uses a needle....”
“That’s a little too junkie for my tastes, babe,” he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he held out the cup. “This is all ya get. Take it or leave it.”
She stared at him, tears welling up in her eyes at just how cruel—sadistic—he could be. “Sean...please,” she begged, the tears slipping. “Don’t make me...”
He glared at her, his lips snarling in disappointment and she knew she’d made a mistake. In a flash, he grabbed a handful of her hair and shoved the cup to her lips, holding her head in place so she was forced to drink his blood. She gagged against the bitter taste...it was cold and clumpy and settled like oil on top of water in her stomach. Bile burning her throat, she tried to keep from throwing up as bible verses sprang into her mind. Leviticus 17:14: you must not eat the blood of any creature, because the life of every creature is its blood.
Psalms 51:14: deliver me from blood guiltiness, O God, thou God of my salvation: and my tongue shall sing aloud of thy righteousness.
Sean knew how she felt about drinking the blood—it’d been her deepest concern from the very beginning—that’s why he enjoyed forcing her to do it. The sick freak.
Yanking away from the cup, she gasped for a breath after slinging a mouthful of blood across her lap. Breathless, repulsed, she lifted her gaze to glare at him, but even in her anger and revulsion, she could feel her energy slowly return as his blood drifted through her body.
Leaning forward, Sean cupped her stained chin between his fingers, squeezing so her lips pursed together. He covered her mouth with his in a sloppy, disgusting kiss that made her stomach lurch. Pulling back, his lips were spotted with red stains. Staring into her face, his black-as-night eyes gave her chills. Eyebrows raised, waiting, his voice was husky and dark as he said, “Aren’t you going to say thank you? I just saved your life.”
Chapter Five—Search and Rescue
“Are you sure you’re on the right track?” Caine asked with his head leaned against the window in boredom. They’d been driving for hours, and they’d already crossed the state line into North Carolina. He didn’t recognize the names of any of the towns on the road signs and he couldn’t help but obsess about how his psychotic brother was all alone with Hannah.
“Yes, I’m sure,” Max said. “For the tenth time, I’m sure. I’m following his thoughts—the same way I would’ve done if you hadn’t insisted on coming along.”
“You can’t do this on your own and you know it.”
“I would have.”
“I know.” Caine leaned forward to read a road sign. “But you probably would have ended up on the testing table again.”
“Which is exactly why I don’t understand why you’re helping me,” Max said, shooting him a suspicious look. “I mean, you’re not involved. You don’t know these people at all.”
“You broke Hannah out of that place, right? The lab?” When Max nodded, Caine shrugged. “Well, I owe you one.”
Max glanced over at Caine, giving him a small smile of acknowledgement as he pulled the car over to a hotel. “So you remember the plan, right? No matter what you see, or what Sean makes you hear, don’t get out of this car until he’s gone, right?”
Caine nodded, keeping his gaze on the hotel. “Which room are they in?”
Max closed his eyes in concentration, as if honing into Sean’s thoughts. “Number twelve,” he said. “And she’s okay. Scared, rattled, but okay.”
He wanted to breathe a huge sigh of relief, but he couldn’t. They weren’t out of the woods yet.
They waited for three hours until they finally saw Sean leave, luckily alone. It took every ounce of control Caine possessed to wait until after he’d seen Sean pull out of the parking lot to get out of Max’s car.
Moving in together, they ran up to the hotel room Sean just left.
One kick from Caine made the door fly off its hinges. They burst into the room to find Hannah handcuffed to a chair.
“You came?” she whispered weakly, and Caine noticed the blood stain strewn across her lap. “Caine, you really came?”
“Of course I came,” he said, cradling her head in his hands so he could get a good look at her, so thankful to find her alive. “I couldn’t just let him...”
“Guys, get a move on it,” Max said as he hurried around the room gathering the things Sean stole from him.
Caine broke the handcuffs around Hannah’s wrists, helping her to her feet. Together, the three of them ran out of the hotel room and into the pouring rain.
***
The gravel sliding under Hannah’s feet, her legs buckled and she collapsed onto her hands and knees. She just couldn’t go on...she couldn’t face Caine now that he knew everything about her. She was too tired to keep going, too ashamed of what she’d become...it’d be so easy to just
give up...
“Hannah, what’s wrong?” Rushing to his knees beside her, Caine grabbed her hand and tried to get her to focus on him, but she kept her face lowered as sobs rocked through her body, echoing loud over the rain.
“I can’t, Caine...I can’t.” I can’t go on like this. I can’t keep running from him. I can’t be around you if you know what I really am now. Those were the things she tried to tell him, the things she needed so desperately to tell him, but her words made no sense—she sounded like a blubbering mess.
Her entire body was shaking, but she wasn’t cold. “Why does he think he can just…take…whatever he wants?”
Caine put his hand on her shoulder, gently, as if she’d shatter like glass under too much pressure. She looked up at him, pleading with him for an answer.
“I don’t know,” he said softly. “I don’t know, but you can’t give up...Hannah we need to keep going, okay?”
Suddenly, looking at him kneeling in front of her, she was overcome by the sudden urge to rush into his arms. Grabbing him, she clutched him tight in a hug, burying her head in his shoulder as she cried, so thankful that he’d come to rescue her, she couldn’t even find the words.
Instinctively, his arms flew around her and he held her close, making soft shushing sounds. She wanted to crawl inside him where it was safe. Feeling his lips on top of her head, pressing against her wet hair, she breathed a long sigh of relief to finally be reunited with him.
Chapter Six—Recovery
Hannah passed out from exhaustion and fear, so Caine carried her back to the car, and they drove until they finally found a hotel about thirty minutes past the one they’d rescued Hannah from. None of them had enough money, so they had to break into an empty room.
Caine laid Hannah’s tired body on the bed where she could finally sleep in peace. Even though Sean only held her captive for a day and a half, Caine could only imagine how terrifying those days had been.
Turning away from her, he sat down at the table across from Max. He glanced up from the blueprints he’d stolen back from Sean. “I wonder if there’s really a cure,” he said softly.
Caine doubted it. “I don’t know.”
Max stood up from the table. “I’m going to go find some wheels so we can get everybody out once we find the lab.”
Caine nodded. “Good idea. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on Hannah.”
Reaching into his duffel bag, Max pulled out a small bag and handed it to Caine. “She’s going to need an injection soon. God only knows if he even gave her any...” Shaking his head, Max dropped the bag on the table in front of Caine. “Anyway, she needs the entire syringe full. Can you handle that?”
Caine nodded, although his stomach churned at just the thought. Looking over at Hannah, sleeping soundly on the bed, he felt the urge to go hold her again. To protect her from anything like this happening again. “Yeah. I got it covered.”
“Okay. I’ll be back ASAP.” With that, Max left the room.
Leaning back in his chair, Caine watched Hannah sleep, unwilling to take his eyes off her for one second in case something bad happened again.
After half an hour that blew by, Hannah finally stirred, her eyelids fluttering open as she took in her surroundings. Her face slick with sweat, she looked sallow and pale and sick. Her gaze landing on him, she gave him a weak smile.
“So I wasn’t dreaming?” She asked her voice scratchy with sleep.
He smiled at her as he stood up from the chair. “No.”
“Good,” she said, letting out a relieved and content sigh as she relaxed against the pillows. “That would’ve been really cruel.”
Picking up one of the paper cups off the table, he carried it to the bathroom and poured her a glass of water.
“I think I’m being punished,” Hannah said softly, barely above a whisper, as he went into the other room.
Of course she thought she was being punished—Hannah’d been taught at a young age that everything was either a test from God or a punishment for failing the test. He didn’t tell her how ridiculous he found the concept, because for Hannah, he knew fear of God was very real. This whole situation Sean had thrown her into had to have been eating her up on the inside. He turned to face her, walking back into the bedroom. “What do you think you’re being punished for?”
She laughed lightly, turning her head to look away from him, down at the faded flowers on the bedspread. “I must have done something really horrible to deserve this,” she whispered. “I must have.”
“No.” Holding out his hand, he offered her the cup of water he’d fixed for her, giving her a comforting smile when she took it. Looking at her, he couldn’t help but think of how scary and dark things had been for her—and how it was all his fault. He didn’t want to dwell in self-pity, but he knew none of this would have ever happened if he’d never come to Tree Hollow. “You don’t deserve this,” he said softly. “Not even a little bit.”
“Then why is it happening?” Tears filled her eyes, brimming over and streaming down her cheeks. He could see her try to hold them back, her lips quivering as she struggled to control her emotions. She failed though, and dipped her head, covering her eyes with one hand as her shoulders shook and trembled with sobs. “It has to mean something, right? Tell me my life wasn’t destroyed for no reason.”
“Sometimes bad things just happen, Hannah,” he whispered, reaching out to clutch her hand. He gave it a reassuring squeeze, trying to get his point across. “It doesn’t mean you deserve it. It doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong.”
“We managed to get away this time, but he’s just going to keep coming back. And the worst part? Sean isn’t even our biggest problem,” she said with a bitter, exhausted laugh. “We still need to help Max rescue the others. At least, I do. You don’t have to do anything you don’t—”
“Hannah,” he said with a soft laugh, “I’m in. I’ll help however I can.”
“Just like that?” She asked with an eyebrow raised. “I wish I’d have done this a few weeks ago.”
He gave her a wink as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Learning things the hard way has a bigger impact, in my book.”
Looking over at the needle on the table, he stalled, unsure of why but unable to go through with what he needed to do. “So, you’ve...been doing this for a while? Kind of like a...bl-blood transfusion thing?” He’d meant to sound casual, but the way his throat stuck on the word blood gave him away. Seeing Hannah, knowing this about her, made it that much harder to look her in the eye.
She nodded, keeping her head down, unable to look at him, either.
Standing up, he took a deep breath as he picked up the syringe. His heart pounding in fear and pity, he glanced over at her nervously as he sat down on the edge of the bed. “So...” his voice trembled a little. “How does this work?”
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again and quickly looked away. “Caine...you don’t have to do this.”
“I want to help,” he insisted, seeking her gaze. “You need it right?”
She glanced over at him, reluctantly, keeping her lips closed tight. Stubbornness was always one of her best traits, it was eventually the trait that won his heart, but now, it was only hurting her. How could he look at her, see her so pale and lethargic, knowing he could help, and still do nothing? He wasn’t the type of person who could ignore someone’s pain like that.
“A physical, life or death need.”
With a small sigh, she nodded, lifting her gaze to finally look him in the eye.
“Then I want to help. I’m...just not sure what to do...”
Seeing he had no intention of letting up, she leaned forward awkwardly. “You just...find a vein, and then you put the needle in, and draw out your...” Trailing off, her face turning even whiter as she looked at the needle. Sitting back, she looked away from the syringe, swallowing hard before she continued. “Then you do the same to me...in reverse, of course. And you need to be careful
about air-bubbles—Max says that with the amount of adrenaline in the...shot...air bubbles aren’t a big deal. But it still kind of freaks me out. I’m not convinced the process is safe...I just don’t have much choice.”
He nodded, his heart once again filling with sympathy for her. Knowing it would only make her angry to know he pitied her; he took a deep breath to try to mask his feeling as he reached over and grabbed a packaged alcohol wipe. He wasn’t sure why he’d decided to clean the area—after all; transferring blood in this way couldn’t be healthy under normal circumstances—but it still made him feel comforted to go through the motion. Lowering the tip to his arm, he felt a small pin-prick as the needle sank into his skin. Hannah reached forward, gently pulling on the end of the syringe to suck out his blood. When the tube was filled with dark red, swirling liquid, she carefully pulled the needle out and pressed a tissue against the bleeding hole on his arm.
Taking the needle from her, he prepared himself for the hardest part—injecting Hannah with poison that would somehow keep her alive. He still didn’t fully understand what was happening for her, but he knew it was tragic and sad, and that this couldn’t go on for the rest of her life. His hands trembled as he took her arm, his thumb searching out the vein the tourniquet revealed. He aimed the tip of the needle toward the vein, but he just couldn’t do it.
He cracked, a single tear slipping down his cheek as he wished, more now than ever before, that he’d never let his dad go to jail for hurting Joey. If Caine had gone to jail like he was supposed to...none of this would have ever happened.
“Caine...it’s okay,” Hannah said softly.
“It’s not,” he said, his voice scratchy. “My brother did this to you because he hates me. What part of that is okay?”
“It’s just the luck of the draw,” she said, giving him a feeble smile as she brought her hand to his cheek. “Isn’t that what you would say to anybody else?”
He knew she was right. If he were talking to someone else, he’d tell them to get over it—live with the hand of cards life dealt. But this wasn’t just anybody else—this was Hannah, and the hand he dealt her.
Saving Hannah Page 6