by Ava Gray
“That’s one way of putting it.” She tried to control her revulsion, but he saw it.
Maybe because of the cameras, he didn’t acknowledge the revelation. “Do you have anything to drink?”
Gillie could only think, Holy crap, my first houseguest.
“Of course. I should’ve offered. I can make tea or coffee, if you like. I also have some oatmeal cookies I made this morning.”
“You bake in here?” His astonishment wounded her, as if she’d surrendered everything by wanting to make the best of things.
“Yes, I’m a collaborator,” she said, feeling wretched. “Do you want the cookies or not?”
“Tea and cookies in hell.” He shook his head in wonderment.
“That about sums it up.” Relieved that she wouldn’t have to fight off a determined rapist—a worry each time Rowan came in—Gillie got up to make the refreshments. “You never told me your name.”
Pure hatred flashed in his green eyes. “They call me T-89.”
“Do you remember who you are? Do you have a family?” She put the kettle on, nearly weeping with the pleasure of human contact after so long.
“The T stands for Taye. I’m sure of that. The rest . . .” He shook his head, gazing at his clasped hands. “Only bits and pieces. I think I might have a family out there, but I’m not positive. I’m pretty sure they’d given up on me long before I was taken.”
“I’m sorry.”
Was that true of her as well? Gillie knew a pang, wondering whether her parents had accepted the tale of her death. Did they have more children thereafter? Did they miss me at all? With the ease of long practice, she banished the darkness. Living in the present kept her sane.
He shrugged. “It’s all scrambled now. Doesn’t matter whether I was a crazy bum, begging for spare change and tin-foil for a hat. I doubt my family would want me back, if these flashes I get are true.”
“Well, Taye, I’m glad to have you here. I didn’t think I’d ever see a friendly face.”
Shadows lurked in his jade eyes. “Nor did I. Mind if I use your bathroom?”
“No, help yourself.”
By the time he’d finished, she’d laid the table with cookies and hot tea. He joined her. Gillie had always thought it funny they gave her two chairs, until the day Dr. Rowan sat down across from her. Since then, she’d lost some of the joy she took in doing small, everyday things for herself.
“This looks fantastic.”
In truth, the cookies were a bit overdone, and she’d gone wrong somewhere else in making them. The raisins had soaked up all the moisture, so instead of being rich and chewy like her mom’s, these turned out dry and crumbly. But perhaps with the tea, he wouldn’t notice.
“You’re being polite.”
He broke a cookie in half and took a big bite. “Not at all. I haven’t had any sweets in a long time. I used to . . .”
“What?”
“Like marzipan, I think. Or was it peanut brittle?” His eyes went distant, as if all the neurons weren’t firing in sync.
Just how safe was she with him? Gillie eyed him warily. Sure, she knew about the cameras, but this guy could do some damage before help arrived.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I just . . . can’t remember certain things. If it makes you feel better, one condition of my visits is that I’m never to touch you.”
Because she could envision Rowan laying down such terms, she considered that a mixed blessing. Still, she didn’t want him to feel unwelcome. Anyone was better than the mad scientist.
“It does, thank you.”
“I think I haven’t seen my reflection in a while because when I looked in the mirror earlier, I didn’t recognize my own face.” His conversational tone belied the grief in his gaze. “Does that ever happen to you?”
Tell me I’m not alone, his eyes begged.
Gillie shook her head, wishing she were a better liar. She had no comfort to offer a man who found a stranger in the mirror; she could only change the subject. “Silas said we have an hour?”
Taye nodded. “Today and every day hereafter. I made it a condition of my cooperation.”
“If the question doesn’t strike you as too forward—”
“What can I do?” Wisely, he guessed she wanted to know his ability.
“I’m curious.”
“I’m drugged, so I can’t show you, but . . . I manipulate energy. I absorb it, displace it, and discharge it. Energy is never created or destroyed, but I can transmute it. They’re interested in finding out what, exactly, that entails and what my limits are.”
“They would be. Sadly, they don’t need me willing,” she said softly. “It just makes life more bearable.”
He cocked his head. “So they can use your gift, even if you don’t want them to?”
While he ate, she explained. She’d never imagined she would have anyone to confide in. Even knowing they were listening to every word, it was still a relief. Sympathy shone in his gaze by the time she finished the story.
“Jesus, that’s . . .” He curled his hand into a fist, as if that spoke for him better than words. “Well, I can only say—I don’t know how you’ve borne it.”
“I’ve thought of dying,” she whispered. “They think they’ve eliminated everything I could use to harm myself, but I have a few secrets. Sometimes I still think of it.”
Before he could reply, a knock sounded at the door. “Time.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Taye said, eyes on hers. “Take a hot bath and try to relax.”
That seemed like such an odd and pointed instruction that as soon as they left, she went into the bathroom. With something like hope dawning in her heart, Gillie read the note he’d scrawled on a scrap of toilet paper:
We’re getting out of here. Be ready.
CHAPTER 14
After such an amazing night, Mia had every right to expect he wouldn’t do a runner like someone else’s guilty husband. Instead, half-alert, she heard him slip from the bed as if he were trying to be surreptitious about it. That startled her into full wakefulness.
He stood for a few seconds beside the bed, and she could actually feel him gazing down on her. She tried to feign sleep. His tread sounded as he moved away, heading down the stairs. Mia waited until the door clicked before leaping from the bed.
Fury motivated her. She’d comforted him, dammit. For a brief, shining moment, all the ice that surrounded him had melted. Then he had proved himself human yet again when he pulled her out of the dark and rubbed her back. There was warmth inside him, a good heart. He cared that he’d hurt her. That glimmer of light left her longing for more.
She dressed in a hurry, grabbed her keys, and headed out after him. The sky had lightened to a gauzy blue, still gilded at the edges. His Infiniti was already angling toward the highway. She made a quick decision, jogging toward her car. Mia was careful to keep the building between her and the road. If he spotted her in the rearview mirror, she doubted she’d find out where he was really going.
It’s not jealousy, she told herself. It’s self-preservation. I have to know what he’s hiding and whether it’s going to come looking for me like it did before.
At the highway, she had to guess which ramp he might’ve taken. East to Maryland or west to West Virginia. “Coin toss it is.”
The quarter she flipped told her to go east, so she pulled onto the highway, merging with the light morning traffic. This might be a colossal waste of time. Still, she sped up, thinking she might get within sight of his vehicle if he wasn’t driving too fast. She needed to be careful, however. If he caught sight of her, there would be hell to pay.
Good thing a blue Ford Focus is the closest thing to a generic car. She’d spotted two similar models on the road already.
She turned on the radio and tried to pretend her behavior didn’t border on stalkerish. But she couldn’t let things continue without knowing more about him—and he wasn’t likely to confide in her. Another woman might’ve t
aken that as a sign to steer clear. It only made Mia more determined to put an end to his mysteries. They might not be enemies, but she knew he didn’t trust her, either.
An hour later, Mia sighed. This was a waste of time. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t trained for surveillance. Half an hour ago, she’d thought she glimpsed his G37 in the distance, but she hadn’t wanted to draw near enough to confirm. Grouchy—and hungry—she stopped looking for him and started seeking somewhere to eat.
A billboard promised a hearty country breakfast, so she kept a lookout for that exit. But in passing the next off-ramp, she spied a silver Infiniti making a left turn at the bottom. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Her heart pounding like mad, she drove on to the next exit to circle around. That would put her about ten minutes behind the other vehicle—just as well; he would notice a closer tail.
At last she pulled off the highway and made the turn, following in his wake. This had to be among the top ten most humiliating things she’d done, right up there with snorting strawberry milk in junior high. The nickname Mia Snotter had stayed with her until graduation. But at least there were no witnesses to this particular low.
This road led into a small, picturesque town called Dun-ham. Mia drove across a covered bridge, wondering where she would end up. There were a number of brightly painted, historic barns along the way.
Well, maybe she’d spend the day antiquing, after she found out where he’d gone. She liked old furniture, not that she ever acquired any. But if she ever bought a house, she’d love to fill it with shabby old things that just needed a bit of care to make them lovely again. Mindful of speed traps, she drove slowly, and the sight of a police car sitting on a side road rewarded her vigilance.
She was scanning for any sign of Søren when she spotted something else. Though the exquisitely manicured lawn looked like it belonged to a private estate, the small sign out front said it was something else: “Whispering Pines.” The parking lot in front offered more insight. If she had to guess, she’d say this was a very exclusive nursing home or long-term care facility. Despite its beauty, the building seemed too still and quiet, as if all the sorrow within the walls had permeated the stones.
But that wasn’t all that drew her eye. In the nearly empty lot, she spotted the silver Infiniti G37. Hands shaking and sticky on the wheel, Mia turned into the lot. If she was wrong, it wouldn’t be the most embarrassing mistake of her life. As she drove past, she checked the license plate. Her stellar memory for numbers permitted her to identify his vehicle, no question, no doubt.
She stashed her car alongside a giant SUV. Much as she hated those vehicles, the size offered some concealment, as she hadn’t yet decided what she meant to do if he was here. Maybe she would just uncover his secrets and slip away. She could always use the info later.
After checking her reflection in the rearview mirror, she rummaged in her bag for a little lipstick and a comb for her tousled hair. That was the best she could do, so Mia climbed out of the car. Deep breath. Show time. Striding toward the white stone building, she had to admit she was worried about how he might react to her invasion of his privacy. Then again, he had turned her over to his enemies to buy time. On the karmic scale, he owed her this much at least. An apology could only take them so far.
Inside, it was cool and hushed. A woman in white sat at the front desk, monitoring some medical equipment. She was somewhere in her midthirties, pretty without being ostentatious. Though the lounge area was richly appointed in jewel tones, it couldn’t conceal the true nature of the place. The walls and floors were hospital issue.
This wasn’t what Mia had expected at all. Nonetheless, she was committed, so she strode toward the visitor’s station, wearing a confident smile. “Good morning. I’m supposed to meet my boyfriend. He probably arrived recently.”
Don’t ask his name. She had no idea which of a thousand aliases he might have used or who he was visiting.
But the nurse’s face fell a little. “Oh, you’re his girlfriend? He’s never brought anyone before, but . . . good for you. He’s a keeper. So devoted.” She pitched her voice low, as if confiding a secret. “He never misses a visit, you know, rain or shine. And it’s such a shame: both his mother and his daughter being here. I don’t know how he bears it.”
Her insides turned to ice. Holy—
Mia made herself smile, acknowledging the saintly qualities of the man she was fucking—and didn’t know at all. Of all possibilities, she’d never imagined anything like this. God, he was going to be livid. Maybe she should go.
“It’s tough,” she agreed. “Remind me of their room numbers?”
The nurse complied, not even needing to check the computer. “He usually visits his mom first, so if you hurry you can catch him there. Otherwise, he’ll be in his daughter’s room. Did you know her mother?” Her blue eyes invited gossip; it was obvious the woman was more than half in love with the man who came every Saturday morning, rain or shine.
His daughter. And she lived in a place like this. However luxurious, there was no escaping the reality of it. Whatever was wrong with her, it was so severe he couldn’t take care of her at home. Her heart felt like it had caught fire in her chest.
“No. I don’t.”
“I assume she’s passed on,” the nurse—Debbie, her name tag read—continued. “He doesn’t even have a pale place on his finger. So it’s been a while I think.” Her pause suggested she’d like it a lot if Mia filled in the gaps for her.
Unfortunately, she couldn’t.
The sensible thing would be to slip out. But if he visited his mother first, that meant she could see his little girl, at least glance through the doorway. She didn’t want to bother an ailing child, but she felt sick with the need to understand what drove him.
She gave a noncommittal smile. “Do I need a guest pass?”
Stifling a disappointed sigh, Debbie answered, “Yes, I’ll need your ID, please. You can retrieve it when you leave the facility.”
When she handed it over, she was committed to the pretense. Mia hung the badge around her neck and followed the woman’s directions. Apparently, the two patients occupied separate wings. She went right at the T, following Debbie’s directions.
The quiet was eerie, and she recognized the rasp of respirators. Was everyone in this section on life support? She ached for him.
At last, she came to room 158. Alexis Winter. Was that his last name? Winter? The bed wasn’t visible to passing strangers, so before she could think better of it, she stepped through the door. She was prepared with an excuse if the kid questioned her, but the minute she saw her, Mia knew that wouldn’t happen.
God, she was beautiful—the ultimate sleeping princess. She had his light brown hair, but it curled against her pale cheeks. A glance at the chart told her Alexis was twelve years old, but her growth must’ve stopped after—whatever rendered her comatose. Because she looked no older than six.
Mia turned to go, wishing she hadn’t come. Had she really thought he was going straight from her bed to another woman? He wasn’t the type. She drew up short, every muscle locking as the shadow fell across the threshold seconds before Søren appeared.
“What are you doing here?” he growled.
Mia put up a hand, as if to ward him off. He didn’t lay hands on her because he might kill her. He should kill her. Nobody knew about Lexie. It had to be that way.
Not least of all, he felt the awful burn of inadequacy. He could spot a tail for two miles, and yet he hadn’t known she was following him? Inexcusable. Unacceptable. Loss of vigilance would ruin all his plans. He couldn’t afford to get sloppy. And now she’d compromised everything.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
It wasn’t what she said, but rather how she said it. As if she cared. It ran him through like a pike.
“Come on,” he bit out.
She did step into the hall, but she planted her feet there. “I’m not going anywhere with you while you’re in this mood. Why don’t you have your vi
sit with her and then meet me for breakfast? I think we have some talking to do.”
Talking wasn’t what he had in mind, but he guessed she knew that. Which was why she was insisting on a public place. He’d said it before—clever girl.
Teeth clenched too tightly to speak, he jerked his head in answer.
“Can you recommend anywhere nearby?”
With effort, he reined his temper. “Nina’s Country Kitchen. It’s three miles away, straight into town. You can’t miss it.”
Not awaiting her reply, he went back into Lexie’s room. Pointedly, he closed the door behind him. Damn her. And damn him for being stupid enough to let her blindside him.
A garrote in the dark offered a permanent solution, but he didn’t know if he could end her. He’d killed before, but his target had never been a woman who’d shared his bed. Crossing that line would turn him into a monster, less than human. Most days, he might say he’d passed that point already.
What the hell. It didn’t matter. Nothing did, nothing but revenge. He wouldn’t think about Mia right now. It wasn’t fair to Lexie.
Søren sank down into the chair beside the bed and took her hand. He’d often wished she would squeeze his fingers or give some sign she heard him, but there was nothing. The doctors had recommended taking her off life support; they gave no hope she would ever awaken—and even if she did, she had lost too much ever to live a normal life.
Massive brain damage.
Her hair had grown back, years ago. She looked like the little girl he’d lost now. Except she was empty.
He knew he should sign the papers, but if he did, he’d be alone. There wouldn’t be anyone who remembered him. Selfish, but he’d never claimed to be otherwise. Søren leaned his head against the bed beside her leg. The tears had long since frozen inside him, and now he was cold to the bone, burning like dry ice.
“I can’t let you go,” he told her quietly. “Not yet. But the time is coming, min skat. I’m almost to the end of the last act—and just before I go, I’ll set you free. We’ll be together then, I promise. And please . . .” His voice broke. “Know how sorry I am.”