Reviving Emily: Project DEEP, Book One

by Becca Jameson

  Patricia glanced at Emily in the rearview mirror. “Pshaw. Don’t be silly. I love hiding people.” She winked at Emily as if they were in cahoots and the older woman hid people every day of the week.

  In ten minutes they were inside Ryan’s childhood home. Emily could feel the love immediately, like a living being in the house. It was comforting like a soft blanket.

  “Sit. Sit.” Patricia bustled around the kitchen after pointing to the table. The house smelled fantastic. Rich spices and warm fresh bread.

  Emily inhaled slowly, letting her eyes drift closed as Ryan helped her into a chair and pushed her in. She shivered when he gently ran his palms up her arms to her neck, tipped her head back, and leaned down from behind her to kiss her lips.

  That was one way to make it clear to Patricia who she was to him.

  Patricia was grinning from ear to ear as she set a steaming pot in the center of the table. “Ryan, grab some bowls and spoons.” She returned moments later with glasses and a pitcher of iced tea.

  “Smells amazing,” Emily said.

  “Eat. You must be starving.” Patricia pointed at the soup as she began to carve the hot loaf of bread.

  Ryan took the seat next to Emily and ladled soup into her bowl and then his own. “My grandmother makes the best soup I’ve ever had. One of my fondest childhood memories is wondering which kind she made while I was at school. I would try to guess on my way home and then inhale the scent when I walked inside.” He inhaled slowly, smiling. “Beef vegetable.”

  His face lit up as he reminisced, and Emily loved seeing this side of him.

  “So, where did you two meet?” Patricia asked as she took a seat across from them.

  Ryan cleared his throat. “There are some things I need to tell you, and you’re going to be shocked.”

  “Good thing I’m already sitting,” Patricia teased, tucking a napkin in her lap. “Really, Ryan, I’ve been through a lot of crazy things over the years. I don’t think you can shock me.”

  “Oh, trust me. I can. How about we eat first, and then I’ll tell you?”

  “You think I won’t be able to handle what you have to say?” she continued to joke.

  Emily could sense she was a strong woman who wasn’t easily rattled, but there was little doubt she would have her world rocked when she heard what Ryan had to say.

  A half an hour later, dishes cleared, kitchen cleaned—mostly by Ryan—the three of them moved to the living room. The home was small. A ranch. But it was lived in. The walls were covered with family pictures. Emily couldn’t wait to wander around, taking in Ryan’s childhood in snapshots.

  The sofa was old but in good shape. It was beige, but almost none of it was showing because at least a dozen different pillows and throw blankets were draped over the cushions. Every color. Loved. Worn. Comfortable. The same was true of the two armchairs in the room, all of the furniture arranged in an arch around the fireplace.

  A television was mounted above the mantel. The floors were a dark hardwood with several eclectic rugs scattered around. The same hardwood ran into the attached kitchen where they’d eaten dinner on a wooden table with intricately carved legs that matched the spindles on the chairs.

  The kitchen hadn’t been updated in decades, but it was clean and loved and she would bet her last dollar everything worked perfectly.

  Ryan had pulled Emily down onto the sofa next to him and tucked her into his side, one hand draped around her shoulder, toying with a lock of her hair.

  Patricia took a seat in one of the armchairs. She probably sat there every day because it was surrounded by a knitting basket, an end table with magazines and books, and a footstool. “You didn’t answer my question,” she pointed out, smiling at Emily. “Where did you two meet? At the bunker? Because I know my Ryan hardly ever leaves the facility.”

  “We did meet there,” Ryan began.

  Suddenly Patricia sat up straighter, slapping a palm over her forehead. “You’re the woman they reanimated.”

  Emily nodded at the same time Ryan did. He was grinning when he spoke. “I figured you would have guessed that a few hours ago. You’re getting sluggish on me, Grandma.”

  “My God.” Her gaze was on Emily. “After ten years? Is it true?”

  “Yes,” Emily began, but Ryan took over the explanation, which was just as well.

  “The media has been hounding her. As well as religious zealots. And then today some asshole who wanted us to bring his daughter back kidnapped her.”

  Patricia gasped, her hand going to her heart. She never took her gaze off Emily. “No wonder you need a place to lie low.”

  “We won’t stay long. Just tonight. I didn’t want to drag Emily back through the throng of reporters and idiots camped out at the entrance to the bunker grounds tonight. It wasn’t safe.”

  “Of course. And you know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.” She shifted her gaze to Ryan. “This is your home, Ryan.”

  “I know, Grandma, but you didn’t ask for this insanity at your doorstep.” His voice grew softer, and he held Emily tighter even though she doubted he realized he had stiffened next to her. “There’s more. It’s going to get worse. I need you to be prepared.”

  Patricia’s face went completely white, her mouth hanging open, her eyes wide with tears that finally slid down her cheeks. “Your parents…”

  “Yes.”

  “My God. Oh God.” She gripped her blouse at her chest. “My Trish. Your father. Oh God.”

  Ryan released Emily to go to his grandmother, kneeling in front of her and hugging her tight before leaning back on his heels, his hands on hers over her thighs. “Dad is being revived right now. The process takes weeks. He’ll be removed from the reanimation chamber in a few weeks and then be kept in a coma for a month while his organs wake up.”

  Patricia sobbed. “I can’t believe it. You weren’t just working on a cure for that disease all this time. You were working on a way to bring them all back.”

  Ryan nodded. “Yes. My team. Not me, really. My specialty was in diseases. But others I work with have been preparing for their end of things. Cryonics specialists.”

  “When I heard about those people who were reanimated in Arizona, I thought… But I didn’t want to ask you. I didn’t want to hope. I didn’t want to believe…”

  “I know.”

  Watching Ryan comfort his grandmother was the most touching thing Emily had ever witnessed. She felt like an interloper in an experience that was personal and should have been private.

  But Ryan never for a moment made her feel that way. In fact, he turned around and reached out a hand. “I was with Emily when she came to for the first time. She took my breath away. She’s as gorgeous inside as she is outside.”

  A tear slid down Emily’s cheek at his words, his declaration of feelings right here in front of the woman who helped raise him and was the most important person in his life. When he crooked a finger, Emily eased from the couch and rounded the coffee table to grasp his hand.

  Patricia cried openly now. “I’m so happy for you.” She cupped Ryan’s cheek as he leaned into her touch.

  Emily gripped his hand and pulled it up to her chest, nestling it over her heart. She was in love with this man. If there had been any doubt in the world, it dissipated the moment she saw how much he loved his grandmother. No woman would be able to resist a man who treated his mother or grandmother with such kindness and respect.

  She was a goner.

  He lifted his head and met his grandmother’s gaze again. “I need you to be careful. Reporters are going to camp out front. Religious zealots too. If you have any problems, you call me. You didn’t ask for this. I’m so sorry.”

  She smiled through tears. “Ryan, honey, I’m a strong woman. Your parents worked in that facility for many years. I’ve always known something like this could happen. Don’t you worry about your old grandma. I can handle a few picketers and some reporters. Your work is important. So was the work your parents did
. I’m so proud of you.” She cupped his face again and then leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

  Ryan pushed to his feet. “I’m going to help Emily get settled. She’s exhausted.”

  Emily could feel the emotion pouring off him.

  Patricia started to push to standing, but Ryan stopped her with a wave of his hand. She slumped back in the chair and looked at Emily. “I keep some bath salts and bubbles next to the tub. Ryan can show you where the towels are.”

  “Thank you.” Emily reached for the kind woman’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

  Chapter 22

  Ryan never wanted to let go of Emily. The thought of releasing her made his stomach tighten. He’d spent the entire day scared out of his mind, and now he wanted to stare at her and hold her and cherish her. He hoped he wasn’t smothering her.

  The house had two bathrooms. His grandmother had moved into his parents’ bedroom years ago, and she used the master bath. So Ryan led Emily to the guest bathroom in the hallway. He pulled her inside and shut the door.

  She shot him a look and whispered, “You’re not staying. Not with your grandmother in the next room.”

  He sure wasn’t leaving. “She’s fine. She loves you.”

  “That’s great. But a little respect, Ryan.”

  He loved the way she backed up the two inches available to her, crossing her arms. He hated the way she winced as she did so. “Your shoulder.” He reached for the hem of her sweater and hauled it over her head before she could protest further.

  Gently turning her to the side, he cringed. “Baby, that has to hurt.” It was dark blue and purple. “We should have seen a doctor.”

  She set a hand on top of his. “I am a doctor. So are you. It’s a bruise. They’re ugly. They heal.”

  He let his hand slide down her arm and then turned her to face him so he could unbutton her jeans and lower the zipper.

  She set her hands on his shoulders and let him undress her.

  As soon as he had her shoes off and her jeans tugged from her body, he leaned in and kissed her belly, nuzzling her soft skin as she ran her hands through his hair. He tipped his head back and set his chin on her stomach to look up at her. “I was scared to death.”

  “I know.” They hadn’t had a moment alone since she was rescued.

  He searched her eyes, hoping she was on the same page as him and wouldn’t freak out when he spoke his next words. “I’m in love with you.”

  A slow smile spread across her face. “Convenient.”

  He gave her a squeeze, holding her torso tight. “Convenient?”

  “It would suck if it wasn’t reciprocated.” She leaned down to kiss his lips. “I can’t breathe right when you’re not in the room. I love you too, Ryan Anand.”

  His chest beat harder. His hands shook at the back of her thighs. He needed her. He needed to be inside her.

  She needed a bath and sleep.

  Taking a deep breath to control his physical reaction to her, he reached to his side and turned on the water, testing it with his fingers until it heated up. He put the stopper in the tub and let it fill, turning his attention back to the woman he loved.

  She was gathering her hair up in a bun and securing it with a rubber band from around her wrist.

  He let her remove her bra and panties, but he never took his eyes off her.

  When she slid into the water, sighing, his heart swelled. As badly as he wanted to stay with her, he needed to get out of that bathroom before he lost control and fucked her loudly over the tile floor or in the tub or on the vanity or against the door.

  He was certain his grandmother wasn’t a prude about her adult grandson and his girlfriend being under her roof, but he didn’t intend to turn the next half hour into something the older woman couldn’t ignore. So, he reluctantly cupped her face, kissed her lips, and stood. “I’ll let you relax. You have everything you need?”

  She tipped her face into his palm and kissed him there. “No, but it’s a start.” Her face was flushed when she met his gaze, biting her lower lip, a twinkle in her eye.

  He shook his head and turned around. “You’re killing me, woman.” And then he left the room to head across the hallway. The house had just three bedrooms—the master his grandmother occupied, a guest room, and the room Ryan grew up in.

  His room had been redone since his childhood and now held a queen-sized bed and adult furniture. Because he stayed with his grandmother as often as he could, the room was his. He’d long since packed up childhood memories and stored them in a few boxes in the closet.

  The bed filled half the small room, but he had picked out the furniture and bought it himself in his early twenties. The dark wood headboard matched the dresser and nightstand. The comforter was navy with thin red stripes, and he was certain the matching sheets were clean because his grandmother had always ensured everything was ready for him at a moment’s notice.

  He leaned in the doorway for a minute, taking in his space, wondering what Emily would think of it. The suite he occupied at the bunker didn’t have his personality, and even though he spent most of his time there, he’d never gone to any effort to make it “his.”

  With a sigh, he turned around and made his way back to the living room.

  “Emily have everything she needs?” his grandmother asked. She was still sitting in the same spot, having not moved an inch, her hands clutching a tissue in her lap.

  “Yes. She’s fine.”

  “She hurt her arm today, didn’t she?” Patricia missed nothing.

  He smiled. “Yeah. It’s bruised pretty badly. I don’t think it’s serious.”

  “I noticed she was favoring the other one.”

  He nodded as he took a seat on the couch.

  “You love her.”

  “I do.” He smiled. It felt so good to say those words out loud, both to Emily and to anyone else who cared to know. “I’m so in love with her it hurts.”

  Another tear slid down Patricia’s face. She dabbed it with her tissue. “Every moment in life is precious. Don’t waste them.”

  “I won’t. I promise.” After thirty years of barely living, he intended to make some changes. Immediately.

  “Your dad…” Her voice trailed off.

  “I have every confidence I’ll be speaking to him soon, as if not a day has gone by. He needs a few more weeks in the reanimation chamber and then we’ll keep him in a coma for about a month so his organs can start to function on their own.”

  “And Trish?”

  “We’re reanimating them one at a time right now. We only have one chamber. She’s next.”

  “How many are there?”

  “Twenty-two, counting Emily.”

  “I can’t believe it.” She clutched her fist at her chest again. “I can’t even allow myself to hope.”

  “I didn’t want to tell you until I was fairly certain. Things can still go wrong. I can’t guarantee every person will survive reanimation. But I’m filled with hope and promise.”

  “What does Emily remember?”

  “Everything. She woke up as if she’d gone to sleep that morning. Her entire memory is not just intact but fresh like it was yesterday. For her it was.”

  “Did you know her before?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I never met her. Plus, I would have been a teenager. She was ten years older than me.”

  Patricia smiled again. “I guess God works in mysterious ways.”

  “That He does.”

  Ryan’s phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see that Temple was calling. “I need to take this,” he told his grandma, pointing toward the back door. As he stepped out onto the patio, he answered. “Temple.”

  “Ryan. Glad I caught you. How’s Emily?”

  “Good. Shook up, bruised. She’ll be okay. She’s tough.”

  “Listen, I know this entire thing is probably horrifying for both of you, and I get that the two of you have a relationship, so it’s not feasible for Emily to drop everything and
leave town right now. I’m sure her feelings for you are affecting her decisions. Do you know if she’s done any more thinking about her next steps?”

  “Not exactly. Though I know whatever she decides, we’ll both likely be together.”

  “I’m not surprised. I’ve taken that into consideration, and I’m working on some options for you both to be relocated.”

  “Really?” He frowned. “Temple, that’s not feasible right now. My parents…”

  “Of course. We’d make sure they were settled first. Damon has their reanimation under control. They could join you later. I just wanted you to know that I’ve put out some feelers to see if the government will consider relocating the two of you together. You could start fresh somewhere with new identities.”

  Ryan flinched, rubbing his brow with his free hand. “I’d hold off on that plan just yet. I need to talk to Emily first. I’m not sure she would be in favor of moving, but I’ll discuss it with her.”

  “Of course. And I just want to say I’m sorry this is so out of control. We’d hate to lose you, but I’m concerned about your safety with you staying on Project DEEP. I don’t want to risk you or Emily.”

  “I know. And you may be right. But I have to talk to Emily and then Damon.”

  “I understand. We’ll see you back here in the morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “See you then.” The call ended, and Ryan stood on the porch for several minutes pondering Temple’s suggestion. He would do anything for Emily, but leaving the bunker and the project was way out in right field. Didn’t Temple realize he wouldn’t leave his parents right now no matter how much Damon insisted he had things under control? There was no way Emily would want that for him.

  Temple must have been under a lot of stress to make such a suggestion. He couldn’t picture a day even in a year he would want to move away from his family. There was also his grandmother to consider. It was true that his parents were likely to experience the same issues reentering society as Emily, possibly even on a larger scale, but that didn’t mean either of them would want to assume new identities either.

  An hour later, Ryan lay on his back in his bed, holding Emily against his chest.