Reviving Dade

by Becca Jameson

  “How do you know all this?” Dade was still confused.

  “I met with the executor yesterday. He didn’t tell me how much money was in the estate, but he was free with the rest of the information. He had no choice. I was extremely skeptical about his validity.”

  “We all were,” Trish added. “I’m still leery.”

  “Wait. How does he know about me?”

  “He doesn’t,” Tushar added. “He only knows that some people have been reanimated. So, he contacted Temple a few months ago when he heard the news.”

  “This is crazy.” Dade leaned back in his chair. “Are you sure he’s not just some asshole fishing for information?”

  Ryan nodded. “Temple checked him out thoroughly a while back. He even has a letter your grandfather left for her and another one for you. Your grandfather explained to Temple that you had given him her contact information even before you got sick, just in case anything would ever happen to you or he couldn’t reach you for some reason.”

  Dade nodded. That was true.

  Ryan continued, “Your grandfather must have been a bit eccentric. Or at least an optimist. He left instructions for the executor to hold his estate for you for fifty years, at which time he wanted the money to be donated to cryonics research. If you weren’t reanimated within fifty years, he thought the funds should at least go toward continued research that would give you a chance.”

  Dade was stunned. “I never knew my grandfather to have any money at all. I’d be surprised if it was anything substantial.”

  “Well, the executor acts like it is,” Ryan added.

  “Don’t forget,” Tushar said, “you had some money too. Everything you owned went to your grandfather when you were preserved.”

  “Huh. This is so insane.”

  “Granted, we have one little problem,” Tushar pointed out. “We don’t want the executor to know you’re alive just yet. It’s too risky. As far as he knows, he’s done his job by informing Temple the money exists. Ryan assured him that when and if you were reanimated, you would be informed.”

  “Right. Makes sense. But I can’t very well enjoy my inheritance if I don’t collect it.”

  “We’re trying to figure something out,” Trish said. “I’ve been working with Temple. We’ll have to arrange for some sort of non-disclosure agreement for the executor. But even more difficult is going to be arranging for him to meet with you. You have to be present to sign the documents and receive them. The guy can’t just take our word for it and hand over your inheritance.”

  “Of course.” That was a problem. “And I’m contagious.” It was hard to remember that Dade needed to keep his distance from the general population.

  “Exactly.” Ryan sighed. “But we’ll figure something out.”

  As the conversation turned to a discussion about the protesters and how Trish and Tushar were familiarizing themselves with the most up-to-date medical research, Dade kept thinking about that inheritance and what it could mean to him.

  If he had that money, he could potentially get the cure for AP12 and then leave the state if he wanted. He could travel for his remaining days. He wouldn’t have to continue to be a burden on the government or Blair, in particular.

  His chest squeezed at the thought of not seeing her anymore, but it would be so much easier if he could cut ties with her entirely. Easier for you? Or for her?

  When there was a lull in the conversation, Dade set his elbows on the table and brought up the subject he’d been waiting to discuss. “Talk to me about autologous stem cell transplantation.” His question was directed to the room at large, with the exception of Blair. But she looked curious too. Maybe she had seen the term in their research.

  Ryan nodded slowly. “It’s a possibility. As a last resort. There’s no data to suggest it would work. You’re one of a kind.”

  “I get that, but you’re surely considering that angle, and right now you don’t have a magic cure, and I’m not on a bone marrow transplant registry. Using my own stem cells just makes sense.”

  Tushar agreed. “I’ve been working that angle extensively, actually.” He set a hand on Dade’s shoulder. “Not ruling it out.”

  “In the end, it’s kinda my best choice, right? It’s the easiest solution. Far less invasive than a bone marrow transplant, and it might work. At the very least, it would allow me to leave this cabin, travel, and enjoy myself for as long as it lasts.” This idea seemed far more appealing now that he knew there was at least some sort of nest egg he could use to travel.

  Trish winced. “There’s no data,” she reminded everyone.

  “But it might work,” Tushar conceded. “Let’s give it some more time to percolate. I’ve already organized a team to try something similar in the lab.”

  “On rats?” Dade asked. Studies on lab rats were always a toss-up when it came to human application.

  “Yes. Do you have a better idea?” Tushar removed his hand from Dade’s shoulder.

  “Yes. Me.” Dade sat up straighter.

  Trish gave a sharp inhale. “You’ve shown no signs of AP12 yet. Let’s not invent problems. We have time.”

  Not a lot of it.

  The moment the delivery truck pulled away and Blair stepped back inside behind Dade, she pounced. “Tell me what all that transplant talk was about. I didn’t want to interrupt the greatest scientific minds of the universe bumping into each other, but give it to me in layman’s terms now.”

  He slumped down on the couch and leaned back.

  Instead of sitting in the armchair she usually occupied, she sat next to him. “Please. Talk to me.”

  “Okay,” he told the ceiling. “So, before I was preserved, they removed my blood.”

  “Right. I think I knew that. They replaced it with some sort of cryoprotectant to keep the tissues from being damaged from ice formation.”

  He lowered his gaze to smile. “You’re an expert.”

  “Hardly. Keep going.”

  “The team removed my stem cells from the blood and saved them. They were also frozen, so to speak.”

  She nodded. “Got it. People sometimes save their baby’s stem cells.”

  “Exactly. Nowadays, adults can even have their blood separated and the stem cells removed. Not exactly the same, but close.”

  “I see.”

  He twisted his body to more fully face her. “Theoretically, those cells are clean. In fact they’re actually very clean because I don’t have any symptoms of AA2. If I was in the full-blown stages of AA2 before the cells were removed, they would be contaminated. Since they’re not, it’s possible that I could be given the treatment for AP12 and immediately receive a transfusion of my own stem cells which could—again in theory—force my bone marrow to do what it’s supposed to do and never allow AA2 to form.”

  “Why doesn’t anyone think it will work?”

  “It’s never been done in this scenario before. There’s no way to know. No one except Trish, Tushar, and Emily have ever had their blood totally drained and replaced ten years later. No one has had that first batch of stem cells from a total blood removal saved for future use. It’s a crap shoot.”

  “But you feel confident?” She sat up straighter.

  “Not particularly. But it’s better than nothing.”

  “And we have time.”

  “We do. But the treatment stands a much greater chance of working if I’m not sick when they do it. So, waiting until I have symptoms of AP12 is a bad idea also.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know yet. I don’t want to think about it at all right now.” He rubbed his arm where Ryan had taken a blood sample before he left.

  She was certain it didn’t hurt, but the small puncture was a reminder that they would be waiting for Ryan to run some tests and ensure Dade still had no active signs of AP12.

  Anemia and its various mutations were starting to infiltrate her nightmares.

  She decided to change the subject to something she hoped w
ould be more uplifting. “Four more people will be awake next week, right?” Originally the team only had one reanimation chamber, but after two successful revivals—Emily and Tushar—three more chambers were ordered. Now four people were due to come out of a coma in a few days.

  “Yes.” He smiled. “And all of them are free of AA2, so they won’t be facing what I am.”

  “That’s great. Were you close to any of them?”

  “I’m close to all of the members of my team. There were twenty-one of us in total, and we were working night and day in close quarters for months before we succumbed to AP12 and had to be preserved. However, my closest friend was Zeke Holleran. I’m looking forward to seeing him.”

  “It must be weird. I mean, it’s been years, but it’s also been days.”

  “Yes. That part is strange. I just saw Tushar and Trish and Emily a few weeks ago in my mind. Zeke too.”

  “What’s he like?” Blair was enjoying this easy camaraderie. Calmly sitting together on the couch. Talking. The frantic pace Dade usually set each day was on the back burner for now. He seemed content to absorb everything he’d learned in the last few hours instead of rushing back to work.

  “Zeke?” Dade rolled his head back and forth across the couch cushion. He undoubtedly had kinks in his neck. “He’s hard-working, serious, incredibly smart. He has a PhD in Immunology. Good guy. I hope he comes out of this unscathed.”

  “Was anyone on the team married? I mean, besides Tushar and Trish.” There were nineteen other people. Surely they weren’t all single. What would have happened to their spouses?

  But Dade shook his head. “Believe it or not, no. The only other person who was ever married was Zeke, actually. He married a nursing student he met at Harvard where he got his PhD after the Naval Academy. She married him for money, however, thinking he was going to be a wealthy guy. Little did she know, he had no interest in money at all, and even less interest in possessions.”

  “Bet that didn’t go over well.”

  Dade chuckled. “Not at all. When he took this job with Project DEEP, she was not happy. She hated living in an apartment in Falling Rock, Colorado, so she left him.”

  Blair cringed. “Ouch.”

  “It was for the best. I didn’t know him before he arrived, but I think she did a number on him. He never dated anyone the entire time we worked together.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  He shot her a glance, that devastating half smile making her wish she hadn’t asked. “Me? Did I date?”

  “Yeah.” Reasonable enough question.

  “Some. Not often. This job is not super conducive to extracurricular activities. I had an apartment in town, but I rarely went there in the last six months or so before I was preserved. And even when I did go home to sleep in my own bed, I didn’t know enough people in town to date if I wanted to. Usually, I just wanted to sleep.”

  “That sounds kinda depressing.” She didn’t mean to insult him, but she couldn’t imagine him so cut off from society that he had no social life.

  He shrugged. “I guess. Honestly, I didn’t think much about it. I was dedicated to my job. We all were. It comes with the territory. No one took a job with Project DEEP without about a dozen layers of interviews and extreme vetting. It was a highly coveted position. Most of the team was under thirty and single with a one-track mind. Curing diseases.”

  “So you were the old guy. A whopping thirty-five,” she joked.

  “Except for Tushar and Trish. And they even had a kid.” He sat up straighter and twisted toward her again. “Talk about weird. Waking up to find their son, Ryan Anand, in charge of the new team was the strangest thing ever. I remember that kid as a teenager. Of course, I’m not surprised. He had science and medicine in his genes. Plus, he had motivation—saving his own parents.”

  Blair leaned the side of her head against the couch, smiling. This was nice. Easy. Comfortable. They weren’t touching each other, but they were facing and very close. In a different world, she would climb on top of this man and force him to see her as more than a coworker.

  Actually, she knew he did see her as more, but it would be wonderful if he could or would act on it.

  What the hell was she thinking? At no point in her life had she wished for such a thing with any man, but somehow everything was different with Dade.

  He surprised her with his next question. “What about you? Do you date much?”

  She gave him a wry smile. “Not often. Not in a long time.”

  “Why?” His brow was furrowed in serious confusion.

  She shrugged. “I never seem to click with anyone, I guess. When I have the opportunity to meet men I don’t already know, they usually back away from me pretty quickly.” She immediately felt like she’d said too much. At the same time she had not said enough.

  “What?” His voice rose. “That’s crazy. Why would anyone back away from you?”

  She laughed. “Really? You have to ask?”

  He lifted his head and stared her down so hard she shivered. “Yes. I’m lost. You’re gorgeous. Sexy. Funny. Hard-working. The list goes on. Why would anyone in their right mind not be in line for a turn to date you?”

  A flush rushed over her cheeks. That’s what he thought of her? “Dade, most men take a step back when they find out I was in the military and work as a bodyguard. And to their credit, I can be overbearing and dominating.” She realized she hadn’t said that quite right and wound her fingers together, fidgeting.

  He pasted on a fake look of shock, placing a palm over his heart. “You? Overbearing and dominating?”

  She swallowed, almost hurt at his attitude. She knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but he didn’t quite get what she was trying to say. She needed to put an end to this. The feel-good moment had passed.

  Setting her palms on her knees, she exhaled and gave him one more parting thought. “I hear you. You’re not wrong. I can be bossy by nature and by profession. If I wasn’t domineering in my job, people would get killed. But here’s the thing—people have a tendency to assume those characteristics extend to every aspect of my life. Men take a step back, afraid to tangle with someone who they fear will top them at all times. My job is my job. It doesn’t define who I am outside of work.”

  Dade nodded slowly.

  She suddenly felt like she’d divulged too much. Gotten too personal. She had no interest in expounding on anything she’d just said. When he opened his mouth to respond, she stood and rushed from the room to the only part of the house where she had privacy.

  Shutting the door to her bedroom, she leaned against it and slid down to the floor. She leaned her head against her knees and cringed. How did their pleasant afternoon turn into something so personal?

  Chapter 11

  Dade didn’t move for a long time. He stared at her closed bedroom door, not even blinking. A tornado had just rushed through the room and left him disheveled and out of breath.

  When he finally blinked and leaned back, her words were still swimming around in his head, needing to be dissected.

  Men take a step back, afraid to tangle with someone who they fear will top them at all times.

  My job is my job. It doesn’t define who I am outside of work.

  He ran a hand through his hair. Fuck me.

  He’d give anything to have a lengthy explanation about what she meant by that little monologue. So many thoughts went through his mind. A jumbled disjointed mess.

  He inhaled long and slow, trying to make sense out of her words. It seemed like she was saying that she wasn’t always bossy. Did she mean in the bedroom? He swallowed, trying not to let his mind wander to the possibilities.

  He couldn’t imagine why anyone would be intimidated by her personality to begin with. Yes, she was pushy, but it didn’t bother him at all. He would never judge a woman by her tendency to dominate. He was secure enough to go toe-to-toe with just about anyone. Inside or outside the bedroom.

  It was actually refreshing to find som
eone who could hold up their end of the conversation and keep him interested. Not all men needed to feel superior to their partners. He found her ability to communicate far more appealing.

  It didn’t even bother him that she knew very little about his profession. She was educated, curious, and interested in his work. And she gave him her full attention when he spoke about things most women would find incredibly boring. If he met a woman who was excited about her work and outgoing enough to speak her mind, and it spilled over into the bedroom, he didn’t mind one way or the other.

  If Blair thought it was hard to find men who didn’t mind her job as a personal security detail, she should try finding women who could tolerate an extremely intelligent biomedical scientist. Talk about intimidating.

  Dating was always a balancing act. He wanted to say enough about himself to ensure the woman knew who he really was, but not so much that she was intimidated, turned off, or bored. He could often judge by a woman’s eyes and body language where the night was going within minutes of meeting her.

  He winced when he realized the similarities between him and Blair. Both of them were in a constant battle not to be judged by their cover. Her book cover was badass female, military drill sergeant. His book cover was nerdy science guy. He had also been in the military, but that wasn’t what stood out when people met him. He’d never been in combat or even overseas.

  The point was that they both faced stereotypes that created difficult hurdles. Often it simply wasn’t worth it to attempt to prove to his dates otherwise. If they couldn’t give him a chance because they prejudged him, then he didn’t want to expend the energy to set them straight.

  Did Blair feel the same way? Maybe that was why she didn’t date. He certainly wouldn’t want to put effort into showing someone he could be less dominant in other situations.

  He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Picturing Blair as submissive in the bedroom had his blood pumping. Not so much because he felt the need to top a woman when he had sex, but more because he couldn’t stop visualizing Blair in bed, period. Top. Bottom. Hovering over him. Pinned under him. Damn. He didn’t care. He just wanted her there.