False Match

by Lynne Silver

  He tossed the underwear in his hand in the general direction of the overflowing hamper and took off after Samara.

  Oooh, that man. Samara clenched and unclenched her fists as she stomped away from Chase’s apartment in the bachelor barracks. She brushed by another soldier who gave her an odd look. Just let him try to say something about her being out and about on her own. He might be a trained soldier, but she was in a fighting mood. Goddamn that Chase. How dare he try to kiss her? What did he think, that she was going to fall in bed with him?

  Her chest rose and fell rapidly as if she’d run a mile from Chase’s room when she was only a few feet away. The door to his apartment opened, and she didn’t wait for him to appear in the narrow hallway.

  She kicked off her black heels and sprinted for the stairwell. She was a flight down when Chase leaned over the railing, looking down the center well. He held up her heels. “Oh Cinderella, did you lose something?”

  She narrowed her eyes and held out a single finger. Her middle one. It felt tight and unused to the gesture, because she didn’t think she’d ever made it before.

  He laughed at her F-you and followed her down the stairs, an easy lope to her heart-racing sprint. She stopped listening for his steps behind her and flat-out ran back to the lab.

  She should’ve gone for her apartment where she had the right to lock the door behind her. As it was, the lab was public space and Chase burst in approximately eighty seconds after she made it huffing and bending over to catch her breath.

  He didn’t look to be breathing hard at all, but she was pleased to see he had a hand pressed to his ribs on one side. “Don’t make me run after you again,” he warned. She guessed his ribs ached. A few weeks ago he’d gone to London to investigate a kidnapping. He hadn’t found the missing child, but he had found Paulson. Or rather, his goons had found him. With their fists.

  “Ribs hurting?” she asked sweetly, pretending not to be bothered by how out of air she sounded.

  “None of your business.”

  She straightened to her full height, vowing not to let him see the effort it cost her. “It was your poor choice to chase me. Or did you feel you needed to live up to your moniker?”

  He laughed. “You’re my business on this campus, Jones. Where you go, I follow.”

  “For how long? Why did Shepard bother offering me a job if he obviously doesn’t trust me?”

  Chase shrugged. “I haven’t received orders to stop shadowing you, so until I do, we’re stuck like glue, which means,” he stepped about an inch away from her and lowered his head to hers, “don’t run from me.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Fine. I won’t, if you promise not to hit on me.”

  He stepped back. “I can’t promise that.”

  “Why not? You hate me.”

  He opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again.

  She wondered what he had been about to reveal.

  “I like all women, baby. You included. Consider it a genetic defect that I’m going to flirt with you. It’s too hard for me to fight it, so I won’t bother. I see a pretty woman, I flirt. Nothing mysterious about it.”

  She snorted. “You managed perfectly well to block your instincts for the past few days.”

  “You were considered an enemy. Now that Shep officially hired you on, you’re fair game.”

  “Lucky me. I believe in most work places that’s called sexual harassment.”

  “We don’t follow most office rules.” He strolled to a gray rolling desk chair in the corner of the room, planted himself and leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head. She hoped the chair flipped back, dropping Chase on his rather fine ass. “I ran after you because I want to take you up on your offer.”

  “Get real, Stanton. I haven’t made you any offers.” Oh wait, she had. “You’ll let me play with your genes?”

  The chair snapped forward and Chase put his hands to his waistband. “I’m not wearing jeans, but you’re welcome to play anytime.”

  For half a second, Samara’s vision locked on to Chase’s crotch, wondering if his long, calloused fingers would actually undo his pants. She was a doctor, a professional. A penis was nothing to freak out over. Or pant over. With great effort she raised her gaze to glare at Chase’s face. “Don’t be a pig. You know what I meant.”

  He grinned and removed his hands from the buttonhole. “I was messing with you, Jones.” Then his eyes widened. “Holy shit. You wanted me to drop trow.”

  “I did not.” She turned away from him to fiddle with the lampshade on a corner table.

  “Denying it a bit too much, aren’t we, Jonesie?” His voice softened. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone that uptight, virginal Doctor Jones is a voyeur.”

  “For crying out loud, Stanton, I have a child, I’m no virgin.”

  He sidled up behind her and breathed over her shoulder into her ear. “Yes, but Luca was implanted via artificial insemination. It’s entirely possible that you are a virgin.”

  She spun and pushed him hard on the shoulder. His faded Baltimore Ravens t-shirt rode up, giving her a tantalizing view of his taut belly. “I’m not a virgin. Though I fail to see how it’s any of your business.” It was true. She technically wasn’t a virgin.

  She’d made a decision to lose it her sophomore year at college in an effort to have the fullest education possible. So she’d picked a nice enough guy in her human anatomy study group and invited him back to her dorm room one night. It had been pleasant enough she supposed, but nothing to make her want to repeat the experience more than twice more at the yearly genetics conference. She’d brought men back to her hotel room, hoping for some of the passion she’d seen in movies and TV shows. She’d been disappointed.

  Chase laughed, bringing her back to the present. Somehow she knew a night with him wouldn’t be forgettable. In fact, she was going to have a hard time forgetting how he’d looked with his hands on his fly and how she’d felt watching. Increased heart rate? Check. Pupils dilating? Check. Nipples hardening? Check and check.

  It didn’t take a medical degree to know she was aroused. Ignore it, Jones. Chase was not for her. For one thing, she was not his destined genetic match. They didn’t have any of the markers. For another, she didn’t want to be. No. She did not.

  “You mentioned you were willing to let me run some tests on you?” she asked in an effort to swing the conversation to more neutral territory.

  Chase took a step back, giving her space to breathe. “Sure, if you think you can help.”

  “I won’t make any guarantees, but I can try. It could be painful. And there are no guarantees. What I’m considering has never been tried before. You’d be a human guinea pig.”

  His lips tightened into a line, and finally his head gave a jerk. “Fine, what do you need from me? Some blood?”

  “Yes, and maybe a semen sample.” Pink flags unfurled on Chase’s cheeks. She was sure she had matching ones. “And I need something else from you.”

  “What’s that?” His voice was an octave lower than normal.

  “I want you to help me escape.” In addition to her son, she had a mother who needed her. She’d been terrified to tell anyone for fear they’d use her mother as leverage to keep her here.

  He scowled at her. “Not just no, but hell no. Shep would shove my head up my ass.”

  “Well, you’ll have to do it in such a way so he never knows it was you who assisted.”

  “What about Paulson? Aren’t you afraid he’ll come after you again?”

  “Of course I am, but I can’t live like this anymore.”

  “Like what? In safety?”

  She folded her arms across her chest and threw him a look. “In a prison. I’m being forced to work on projects not of my choosing and coerced to breed enhanced humans. Is the Program really any better than Paulson?”

  Chase towered over her, but she refused to back down. “Hell yes, we’re better than Paulson. We’re the good guys,” he said.

  �
�Says who?”

  “Says me and every other American.”

  “Not every American. There are plenty who are terrified of you and of the Program’s scientific agenda.” In fact the US House of Representatives planned hearings in a few weeks to determine the fate of the Program. The Program had been so secret not even most government employees knew about it. Now that the secret was out, the rest of Americans were either potentially going to want genetic enhancements also to keep up. Or they were going to shut the Program down out of fear the government was playing God.

  “Agenda?” he practically spluttered. “We have no agenda other than protecting the American way of life.”

  “And you see that as a good thing.” This was kind of fun. His face was practically purple with rage. She guessed no one had ever questioned his politics or existence before. And why would they? He lived on an isolated campus where every inhabitant shared the same mission. Now that the Program had been exposed to the public, Chase and his team were going to come up against a lot more than her snarky questions. The government hearings in the fall could determine the fate of the Program’s future. Samara hoped to be long gone from here and settled into a new job by then.

  “How did we get off track?” Chase stepped back and settled into the gray chair. “I swear, five minutes with you has my mind spinning, and not in a good way.”

  She hid her smile. She didn’t think he’d appreciate it.

  “You were going to fix my lack of enhancement and blackmail me into taking you off campus,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t call it blackmail.”

  “No? What would you call it?”

  “Negotiations,” she said with a catlike smile.

  He released a cross between a snort and a laugh. “It’s not negotiations when it’s not an equal playing field. You get what you want, a chance to escape and a chance to use me as a lab rat. I’m not sure it’s really worth it. You can’t even guarantee you could fix me.”

  “Maybe I could,” she said softly. “You could gain enhancements.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve survived thirty-two years without. I’ll be fine without them.”

  “You’re fronting. You want it so badly, you can taste it. You want to know what it would be like to easily keep up with your cohort instead of working so hard and never quite succeeding.”

  He stared at her and she took a breath, keeping her gaze locked steadily on him.

  “Is that what you think of me, Jones? That I never succeed? Screw you.” He stood so quickly, the gray chair was left spinning as he slammed out of the room.

  Her heart pounded and tears came to her eyes, but she let him go. She wasn’t sure he wouldn’t get violent, she’d cut him so deeply. “Stupid, Samara,” she muttered to herself. She’d never learn, would she? Always saying the wrong thing. Never understanding people’s feelings or motivations. She’d go after him later after he’d had time to cool down.

  That…shrew. How dare she say shit like that to him? Chase stomped along the corridor of the lab building, trying to escape as fast as possible without breaking into an outright sprint. He needed to be alone. He needed to punch something. He needed to figure out why Jones’ words hurt so badly.

  Because they were true.

  He couldn’t lie to himself. Shep’s earlier talk had done little to soothe his ire at thirty-two years of trying to keep up with little success. He’d give his right arm to have one day of being enhanced and feeling as if he truly belonged here. Somehow Jones saw underneath his bravado to the deepest heart of the issue.

  And irony of ironies, speaking of missing right arms, Rowan Blacker was strolling into the building. Blacker, the newest addition to the Program, had moved in last week after his eldest brother Adam had brought him on board and spilled the secret of the Program.

  Because of Rowan’s genetic defect, Adam and Rowan’s mother had hidden her boys away from the campus until Adam’s teen years, and in Rowan’s case, until last week.

  Even with his missing arm, Chase envied him. Because he had all the markers for enhancement other than the absent limb.

  “Yo, Chase, what up?” Rowan called.

  He didn’t dare start speaking, afraid his anger and hurt would slide onto his words. He high-fived Rowan and continued for the door, hoping Blacker wouldn’t want to talk. He felt Rowan’s questioning gaze on his back as he rather rudely pushed past him and out into the drizzly day. Typical August in the Mid-Atlantic. Sunny one moment, thunderstorming the next.

  He kept his head down, ignoring anyone in the vicinity who’d possibly want to stop and chat. He’d been the campus clown for so long, no one would know what to do with him in a foul mood. Least of all him.

  Samara’s words hurt on a level he couldn’t understand. What did she mean “not succeed”? Who said he wasn’t succeeding? He’d never had a single complaint about his ability to complete a mission. Sure, he’d been caught at the airport a few weeks ago when Paulson had sent his goons after him, but that was a total ambush situation. He didn’t think any of his friends would’ve gotten off without a few bumps and scrapes. At least he’d gotten out. If he weren’t successful, he’d be lying flat on his back in Paulson’s clinic playing guinea pig.

  “Chase.”

  He turned to observe his half-sister Loren calling his name. He swallowed back any anger and smiled at her. They hadn’t known each other all that long, but she saw right through his fake smile.

  “Chase, what’s wrong?” She practically glowed with happiness. Maybe he’d glow too if he found his perfect DNA match and the love was returned.

  “Nothing’s wrong. Where’s Adam?”

  “Meeting with his dad about something. Don’t hide from me. I can tell something’s wrong. I’m a journalist, remember?” Her long blonde hair brushed against him as she placed a hand on his arm.

  “How can I forget?” One of her stories on Paulson had been the front page of The Post this morning.

  “Are you upset over my article?” A frown crossed Loren’s face.

  He sucked up his bitterness so it didn’t spill onto his sister. She didn’t deserve his ire. “No, I’m thrilled your story made the front page. Something else is bothering me.”

  “Doctor Jones,” Loren said knowingly.

  His eyes narrowed. “What—how did you know?”

  “Emma and I think she’s your match.” Loren smiled. “You should stop fighting it and give in to the inevitable.”

  “You and Emma don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. And Emma needs to worry about Xander more than she worries about me. You’re right about one thing, Doctor Jones is driving me crazy.”

  “How?”

  “She wants to fix me. She thinks I’m broken.”

  “What? Come here.” Loren dragged him over to one of the soaked wooden benches the campus had placed in various grassy spots. Without care for her clothes, Loren plopped on the bench and gestured he should join her. She looked ready to do battle and a wave of happiness swept through him that he had a sibling who had his back no matter what.

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Loren. Jones is right. I’m broken.”

  “You are not,” Loren said hotly.

  “Okay, I may not be broken, but I’m not enhanced either.”

  She looked confused. “What are you talking about? Of course you are.”

  He leaned against the bench back and let the water drip over his face before answering. “Think about it, Loren. Keel messed with the test results. It was Dad and your mom who were the perfect match, not my mom.”

  Loren’s lips formed a perfect O.

  He stared at the sky, letting the rain sluice down his face. “Jones wants to dig deeper and see if she could play with my genes and enhance me.”

  “I— Will you let her?”

  “Not sure. I want it. Desperately. But I’m scared too. What if I get my hopes up and she can’t do anything about it? Plus she wants all these favors in return.” Verbalizing his fears and most secret
wishes aloud was cathartic. No wonder women always wanted to talk about their feelings.

  “How have you been keeping up? Adam’s never mentioned that you struggled.”

  He sat up and shot his sister a glare. “I don’t struggle. I keep up perfectly fine. I—”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

  “Nah, I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s a legit question.”

  “Speaking of mothers,” Loren said, “my mother is coming onto campus next week, and I’d love you to join us for lunch.”

  Was she serious? He studied her face, but he only saw an earnest desire. “I’m, ah, not sure that would be a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  Did he really have to explain? “Yeah, me and your mom, not such a hot combination.”

  ”Why not?” Loren started to frown. “She told me she’s wanted to meet you for a long time.”

  ”Loren.” He tried to keep the annoyance out of his voice, he really did, but it was hard. “Meeting the woman my father ditched my mother for has never been high on my agenda.”

  An uncomfortable silence fell. He hated putting that frown on his sister’s face. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered and struggled for a conversation changer. Luckily he didn’t have to. Salvation came in the unwitting form of Adam Blacker, Loren’s fiancé.

  “Loren? Chase?” Adam shouted at them from under the overhang of the nearest building. “Why are you two sitting out there? Have you noticed it’s raining?”

  Loren stood and grinned at her man. “We’re chatting.”

  Adam threw them an odd look. “Come on in, babe. I’ll help you change into dry clothes.”

  Loren laughed then looked down at Chase with a serious expression. “I’ll keep this between us.”

  He smiled at her. “I know you will.” His sister jogged away and he continued to sit, letting the warm end-of-summer rain wash down on him. He reviewed all his past missions and the years of training he’d undergone. There was no question. He wanted Jones to do her thing. Now he had to simply swallow his pride and let her. But not yet. He’d find her later. When his pride at her cutting questions wasn’t quite so bruised.