by Peak, Renna
I grabbed the place on my chest where the searing pain was worst, bracing it as I sucked in the last breath I thought I’d ever be able to take. “Jen. I’m not. Who you think. I am.”
9
“Ma’am.” Bad Cop nodded at me as he led me down the long, white hallway.
I turned to him, glaring. “Oh, now I’m a ma’am? What happened to ‘Princess’?” I turned back to stare ahead, shaking my head.
He said nothing, only gulped as he walked next to me, guiding me through the maze of corridors.
We were underground. The few doors I had seen open led to the same sterile kind of room I had been in with Brandon—windowless, white, government-issued cubicles.
We turned, and then turned again, passing multiple closed doors. I could only imagine what went on in a huge, underground military facility—at least I assumed it was military. The precision with which everything seemed to run seemed very non-Washington, D.C. There was no hustle or bustle—everything just seemed exact and detailed. Almost scientific.
He led me to a room on what I thought must have been the opposite side of the complex from where Brandon and I had shared a bed before he blacked out. I had run over to the camera after that, pulling my shirt off the thing as I pulled it back over my head, screaming into it.
And they had been watching. Maybe listening, too. It wasn’t even ten seconds before there were people there, shoving me out of the way and pulling Brandon onto a gurney. They rushed him out of the room before I even realized what was happening—and no one was talking.
Something was very fucked up about this entire thing. The fact that Bad Cop was polite was beyond strange. He had been about as rude to me as anyone ever had—and it wasn’t as though he had apologized. He just seemed to be hanging his head with guilt now.
Someone had screwed up big time, and for once, I was pretty sure it hadn’t been me.
“Wait here.” He motioned to a row of seats against the wall in what I assumed was some type of waiting area.
I sat, looking around the plain room. It wasn’t your typical waiting room—there were no magazines to read, no lamps in the corner to help people relax while they waited. This place probably didn’t get many visitors, and probably not many people who were asked to wait at all.
“Miss Davis?” A female voice called to me from the doorway before I had even had the chance to sit down.
I turned to see a woman, not much older than me, staring at the floor. Her expression was almost pained and she only glanced at me when I stood, not making eye contact.
It almost looked like she winced before she spoke, giving me another polite nod. Almost the same expression as Bad Cop gave me when he spoke the few words he had to me. “Come with me, please.”
I followed the woman out of the waiting room and back into the corridor. We had walked only a short distance before we came to a set of double doors. The woman pulled a small card from her pocket and waved it in front of a sensor on the wall. She then stepped in front of the sensor for a moment, looking into a different black device above it.
I could only guess that it was a retinal scanner. Bad Cop must not have had clearance to take me that far into the dungeon—or whatever this place was.
I heard a loud click—the doors had unlocked. She turned to me, giving me another polite nod and I followed her through the double doors.
This area was a little less sterile. The walls were more of a light blue than the stark white of the other part of the building. And there was something less military-like about it though I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. It was just homier. Definitely not homey. Just less stark.
She slowed to walk next to me, matching me stride for stride. She turned to me as we walked, her mouth downturned. “Miss Davis, I apologize for any inconvenience we’ve caused—“
I stopped, turning to the woman. I blinked once, lifting my brows. “Inconvenience? Is that what you call this?”
She grimaced, her expression pained. “I realize that this has been quite a bit more than inconvenient. On behalf of…” She glanced around the hallway before turning back to me. “On behalf of this facility, I extend my sincerest apologies.”
My brow furrowed. They weren’t going to tell me anything. Not that I merited any sort of knowledge of sensitive information—I knew that. I might have been able to play the daddy card to get myself out of hot water on occasion, but this … this was quite a bit more than hot water. But I had to try. Especially after Brandon’s cryptic message before he had lost consciousness.
I nodded. “And exactly what facility is this? Where are we?”
“I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to tell you that. You’re still in Nevada, but that’s about all I have the authorization to tell you at this time.” She forced a small smile. “I do apologize, Miss Davis. If we had known…” Her voice trailed off, and she motioned with her arm down the hallway. “If you’d like to come with me, please.” She nodded to herself and began walking again.
We began walking again, turning down yet another corridor. This one wasn’t the same warm color as the one before—this one was more of a hospital green. The light color that doesn’t really look like a color at all, but isn’t the sterile white that scares patients away. It reminded me of the place where Brandon had been when he was in the hospital in Maryland, only much smaller and less busy.
I wasn’t even entirely sure there were people here. If it was a government facility—and it pretty much had to be by the looks of the size of the place—it didn’t make sense that there were no people around. It just seemed abandoned, other than the few people I had seen earlier and the woman who was leading me to parts unknown.
She led me to another waiting area—this one clearly a hospital waiting room. It was small, though—only four chairs and a table. It still wasn’t your typical hospital family area, though—still no magazines or televisions or things to pass the time.
I sat down in one of the chairs. It wasn’t as though I’d had much choice—I knew there was no way anyone was going to let me roam the halls here, even if I had wanted to. And Brandon was here somewhere. I thought they would have to come and give me an update at some point. He wasn’t dead—I knew that. He was breathing when they left with him, and I had heard one of the medical people say something about needing a chest tube. They did that all the time on the medical shows I had watched on television, and it didn’t seem like that big of a deal. If all he needed was a chest tube, I knew he was going to be fine. He had to be.
The woman returned after a little while—it was hard to tell how much time had passed. There were no clocks that I had seen and they hadn’t given me back any of my things, so I had no watch or phone. They must have had my purse somewhere, but no one had returned anything of Brandon’s things or mine.
She smiled, nodding. “You can come with me now.”
I stood, following her back into the hallway. We walked to another set of double doors, where this time she only waved the badge in front of the sensors before they swung open automatically.
She waved me through, motioning down the hallway with her arm. “Last door on the right, Miss Davis. And let me say once again how sorry we all are that this happened.”
I narrowed my gaze at her, not sure I should trust that her words meant anything, let alone that I should believe her at all. “Thanks.”
She nodded. “Good luck.”
I felt my forehead crease. “Thanks?” It came out as more of a question than an actual statement of gratitude.
She merely nodded again before turning to go back through the double doors, which closed behind her with a click.
I was locked in again.
I tried to shake off the uneasiness that I felt settling over me as goosebumps covered my arms. I walked to the door she had motioned to—the last door on the right and turned to enter it.
I stared at the floor, unsure of what I would see when I looked up. I half expected it to be the coroner, telling me that Brandon was dead, but I knew in m
y heart that he wasn’t. I could feel him still. I couldn’t explain it exactly, but I knew that I would know if he was dead. And I knew he wasn’t. Not yet, anyway.
I nodded to myself, almost trying to give myself the pep talk I needed to be able to enter the room. It almost felt like I was walking to my own death—I knew it was going to be the end of something. My stomach turned as I remembered what Brandon had said to me right before we left that little room. Right before he had lost consciousness.
I’m not who you think I am.
Who did I think he was? And how could he not have been who I thought? We would get it straightened out, and he would explain it to me—we had to. Once and for all—I knew he would be able to explain what was going on. What this place was, if he even knew. And he would tell me what he meant by saying he wasn’t the person I thought he was.
I reminded myself that I didn’t care who he was—just that I loved him. And if this latest mess had taught me anything, it was that. I loved him no matter what else happened.
I just wasn’t prepared for the voice I heard before I lifted my gaze to look into the room.
“Come in, Jenna.”
10
“You look like hell warmed over, Jenna.”
I had to close my eyes for a second, shaking my head to myself. I hadn’t been prepared to hear that voice again, and definitely not to listen to it today. After everything else that had happened.
“I raised my daughter to present herself as a lady. It doesn’t matter what else happens. You’d think after all this time—“
“Nice to see you, too, Marian.” I knew interrupting her was probably the last thing I should have done—nothing pissed her off more than being interrupted. Particularly by me.
She lifted a brow. “Not that you seem surprised to see me.”
“Worst kept secret in the family.” I knew she hated it when I was sarcastic and I waited to hear her condescending retort.
But she didn’t scold me—there was nothing really even patronizing in her voice. Maybe she had heard something in mine that had stopped her. That seemed like a bit of a pipe dream, even for me. But maybe.
I finally lifted my gaze to meet hers. She frowned, looking me up and down from her chair. She finally stood, motioning me to another room behind the small room where we were standing.
I followed her in and saw the doctor who had helped Brandon earlier sitting behind a desk. He stood when we entered the room, almost cowering in Marian’s presence.
He nodded at me, not making eye contact with either of us. “Miss Davis, I should apologize for the actions that were carried out yesterday.”
Marian turned on her heel to face me. “It was a gross error. A mistake of the highest order.”
I could only nod in response. It didn’t really seem like an apology was enough, not after what I had witnessed. I only wished I could un-see what they had done to Brandon. And I knew I hadn’t even been privy to half of it—he was pretty beaten up before they ever brought me into the room.
The woman I had always known as my mother continued. “It was a last-ditch effort by your father. But now that that is taken care of, we can all get on with our lives. I came as soon as I heard, but it isn’t as though I can show my face in public, even if it is in the middle of the Nevada desert.”
“Right.” I’m sure the uncertainty in my tone gave away my confusion. I didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
“Jenna.” She almost clucked my name. “When was the last time you turned on a news channel?”
I shook my head. I didn’t even know what day it was, let alone when the last time I had watched the news was. I didn’t care at all if I ever saw the news again—I was done with that life. I was done caring about what other people thought and what the media spoon-fed the public as news, which was usually anything but.
She rolled her eyes, turning back to the doctor. “Is there a place we can turn on CNN?”
I shook my head, clearing my throat and interrupting. “I don’t care about CNN. Can you just tell me if Brandon’s okay? Can you just tell me when I can see him?”
The man stood, frowning. “He’s injured quite badly. When we took him out of your room, we suspected a collapsed lung, which would have been typical for the…” He cleared his throat, unable to bring himself to actually admit that Brandon had been tortured. He gulped. “A collapsed lung would have been a typical outcome for the injuries he sustained. But when we took him in for the scan, we saw the wound was much more severe than we had realized. He’s in surgery now.”
I felt like my knees were going to buckle, my head was spinning so fast. He wasn’t going to make it this time—something in me just knew. He had already survived what should have been a life-ending trauma. I knew he wasn’t going to make it through one equally as bad a second time.
I wanted to sink to the floor and rock myself back and forth—something about that seemed like it would be at least a little comforting. My heart raced and I searched the room—I’m not sure what I was searching for, though. My voice was shaking with my desperation, almost pleading with the man. “We have the same blood type. If you need blood, I can donate mine. You can take as much as you want.” I extended my arm, offering him my veins. “And tissue—we had a good match. I can’t remember what they said when he was hurt last time, but they said I could give him a kidney. If you need one, you can have that, too.” My emotions were choking my voice. “Please, you can take whatever you want from me. Anything. Just please…” I couldn’t hold it in any longer—a choked sob came out instead of what I needed to tell him. I just wanted him to understand that I was desperate to do whatever it would take to save Brandon this time, even if it meant that they needed to take my heart to give it to him. Because he already had it—it was already his, and I knew mine couldn’t go on beating if he wasn’t alive.
I felt a hand on my back—a soothing, almost patting motion. I knew it had to be the doctor—Marian had never shown me a morsel of sympathy in my entire life. But when I was able to open my eyes again, it wasn’t the doctor. It was her—Marian, acting like a mother for the first time in my life.
She pulled me into an embrace and I sobbed into her shoulder, releasing not just the emotions that had welled up inside me from finding out Brandon was mortally wounded again, but from everything. The past however-many days of non-stop turmoil. I thought I had held it together pretty well until that moment, but for whatever reason I decided to lose it right then. With her—with the woman who had hated me so much, she told me to kill myself the last time I had felt this panicked. And I almost had back then—and I knew if she suggested it again at that moment, I would have done the same thing. I would have swallowed fistfuls of pills if it meant I could change a damned thing about this situation. I just still wasn’t thinking clearly—I was so overcome with grief I might have done anything. Even that horrible thing I had done once before.
I pulled away, remembering that time in my life. Recalling how callous and cold she had been when I had needed her most. But I knew on some level that it was different this time—Brandon wasn’t dead. Not yet. And if there was something I could do to help him, I was going to.
Marian nodded, watching me collect myself. “Pull yourself together, Jenna. There’s nothing you can do for him right now.”
The doctor walked over, patting me on my upper arm. “She’s right. If there’s something you can do, you’ll be the first to know.” He forced a small smile. “I’ll go check on the progress in the operating room and I’ll be back shortly to give you a report.” He glanced at Marian. “And there’s a television in the waiting area at the other end of the hall. It should get at least one of the news channels.”
We watched him walk out the door of the office and go through the smaller room, back into the hallway before he turned out of our line of sight.
I felt her hand on my shoulder again. “Are you up to watching a little news?”
I shook my head. The news was the last thing I wanted t
o see. Particularly since I had a niggling feeling that the reason she wanted me to watch probably had something to do with me making an ass of myself again. Someone had probably taken a crotch-shot of me as I exited a car or caught me chewing with my mouth open, all captured with their cell phone. Or they had filmed the fake arrest—the stupid thing that Melissa had pulled when we arrived here. It still made me sick knowing that kind of shit made national news—especially when there were issues of far greater concern that no one ever knew about. And thinking about Melissa made me all the angrier—if that hadn’t happened, Brandon and I would already be married, living in our new home in Costa Rica.
Her voice interrupted my angry thoughts. “You’ll want to see this.” I could tell by her tone that I had no choice in the matter. I was going to get to see whatever it was I had done. I would get to have the humiliation of seeing whatever embarrassing footage there was of me.
I followed her out of the office, through the smaller room and back out into the hallway. We walked down the corridor in silence until we reached the small waiting room at the opposite end of the hall. The room was empty, except for a few chairs and a television set in the corner.
She walked toward the television, pausing and turning back to face me before she turned it on. “You should probably sit down.”
I shook my head. “Please, Marian. I don’t need to see it—whatever it is. I know I do things to humiliate myself all the time. Someone probably caught my ‘arrest’ on camera, right? It wasn’t an arrest, though. It was Melissa pulling some convoluted prank—“
“Sit. Down. Now.” There was no question in her voice—and I wasn’t about to challenge her in my current mental state.
So I sat, sinking into the nearest chair, my shoulders slumped over in defeat. She pushed the button to turn it on, scrolling through the television stations until she reached the first news channel that appeared. I saw the time in the corner of the screen and understood why there were no people in the hallways—it was just before three in the morning.