Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
I start pacing again, replaying that moment inside Groom Lake. How much I’d wanted to kill that man rather than simply put on a show for Julian. I’d known then what has been proven now. Her father has no good in him. None. Zero. But damn, the look in Addie’s eyes when that blade cut her father’s throat…It shredded me. And then following that by staying away from her had been hell, but I’d watched Julian’s soul grow darker by the day, and Ava’s with him. It's the genetic mutation, and I’m not foolish enough to not believe I’m headed there, too. I’m not taking Addie with me.
Caleb sits down on a concrete block that surrounds an air conditioner and casts the sky a thoughtful inspection, seeming to know—as he did often these past few months—where my thoughts have drifted. “Letting a man like Powell turn you into a murderer isn’t the answer.”
That stops me in my tracks. “How many people did we kill because that man ordered us to do it?”
“Because it was our duty,” Caleb reminds me. “To protect our country.”
“Knowing what we know now about Powell’s personal agendas,” I say, “I question every order he ever gave us.”
“Regardless,” Caleb waves a hand, “killing him would have been the wrong choice.”
“If I’d killed him,” I murmur disagreeably, giving Caleb my back as I turn to the skyline. “Red Dart would not be an issue now.”
Caleb steps to my side, and for a few minutes we stand there, staring into the night. “I could have killed Julian hundreds of times over,” he finally confesses.
I cut him a sharp look. “He’s your brother,” I say. “I’m the one destined to kill Julian.”
“Let’s figure out how to keep him from blowing up the world from his grave first, eh?” He pats my back—the only man alive I trust enough to allow him to touch me. “Once Addie is safe again, we should go have a long-past-due beer and plot his demise.”
A beer with Caleb. A kiss from Addie. Her safety. If only it were all so simple. But it isn’t, and we both know it.
Chapter Twelve
Addie
My black eyes will mean GTECH to Brock West.
For this reason, I do all I can and flee from the bathroom with my hotel room as my destination. With my chin low, I dart out of the room and toward the elevator, and, thank God, the car is empty when I arrive. The floors tick with excruciating slowness, and when I finally arrive in my room, I head to the bathroom and bring my image into view with a wash of relief; the black has faded to green. Seconds tick by, then a full minute, and the green remains.
I don’t know what any of this means, and with the next press meeting happening in a few minutes, I don’t have time for a deep analysis either. I have to make a fast decision. Do I dare return to the press meetings with the fear that my eyes will turn black again? If I don’t show up, my chances of gaining the wrong kind of attention from Brock are high. I have to return.
With this in mind, I quickly change into another jacket, one with buttons. I check my eyes in the mirror again, and I’m only slightly comforted that they remain green. Desperate for a shelter, I grab my reading glasses in hopes they will shield my eye color. Once they rest on the bridge of my nose, I check my eyes one last time, relieved that the dark rims of the frames really do disguise my eye color, and decide it’s time to head into the fire.
With nerves jangling about, I leave the room behind and make my way back to Brock just in time for the next press meetup. Brock, thankfully, doesn’t even ask about the glasses I rarely sport, or my new jacket, most likely because he’s too busy being self-centered and entitled. Nevertheless, for the most part, considering Brock's attitude hasn’t improved, the press proves manageable.
Two hours later, after several trips to the bathroom, I’m comfortable enough in my green eyes to discard the glasses. Finally, I wish the final reporter farewell, thankful this press matchup is over, and for more than one reason. The blackness of my eyes might have been temporary. The rage of hormones that Creed stirred in me still thrums through me—a dull ache between my thighs—and I cannot help but believe it is related to whatever seems to be happening to me.
My reaction to Creed has always been physically intense, but nothing like this. I feel different in some unexplainable way, and in the back of my mind, I worry my body is trying to complete the lifebond process on its own, and it downright terrifies me. The truth is, the data Ava left behind simply wasn’t enough. We know so little about lifebonds; the few who we know exist all lived within the Zodius compound, out of our reach. For all I know, the more powerful Creed becomes, the more responsive I am to our connection.