Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
His jaw clenches. “I’d like to know who told you this?”
“Anonymous note on my car. That’s the problem, Dad. When you lock up a bunch of people there are people who miss them. Did you lock them up?”
“I did.”
“Why?” I demand. “I told you, this creates distrust none of us can afford.”
“Your mom would say we have to study them.”
“They’ll help us,” I argue. “They want answers, too. Don’t make them the enemy.”
His lips press together and turn down. “Ava Lane said that.”
“Thank God someone has reasonable thinking. Do not lock them up.”
“The White House is involved now. And you’re the only one who knows that or needs to know that. I might not have a choice.”
I push to my feet and tower over him. “You have a choice. I need to know something,” I bite out, my voice tight as a band.
“What exactly do you want to know, Addie?”
“Did you do this, Dad? Did you approve that serum being injected?”
“You know my answer.”
A scientist went rogue and was dealt with, I repeat in my head, but what I say is, “Tell me again.”
“Are you calling me a liar, Addie? Really? That’s where we’re at now?”
“That’s an answer,” I state, and suddenly I’m dizzy and not a little. I’m queasy, too, but I fight through the roll of my belly. Now is not the time to get sick. “Send me the studies, Dad,” I continue. “Give me a little time to look at them. I’ll write up my thoughts and argue them with Chin, if you’ll allow it. And don’t go locking anyone up. How did you handle locking up the lifebonds?”
“They agreed to studies just to be together. That’s how ridiculously pussy whipped this mark makes the men.”
“So they don’t believe they’re captive?”
“They know they can’t leave until the studies are completed, but they signed off on it.”
“Clearly, based on the note on my window, someone believes otherwise. I beg of you, don’t do anything until I look at the research.” Another wave of dizziness rushes over me, but I’m standing now, leaning on his desk, facing him, and somehow, I hold my position. “Promise me.”
“I’ll do what is necessary to protect our country, Addie. That is my sworn vow.”
“Of course, you will,” I snap back. “Of course, you will.”
“What does that even mean, Addie?”
“I just hope that your version of protecting our country really is protecting our country.” I rotate and start walking and I don’t stop. I’m not good. I’m not even a little good, and my mind is racing with the meaning. The marked women are thrust into the forefront of my thoughts. They were all sick before the mark appeared. But it was always right after a first sexual encounter. This is not that. It can’t be that. I ate something bad. I have a bug. That’s what this is.
I hurry down the hallway and fortunately pass no one who might offer aid and notice I’m sick, though my own father certainly did not. I manage to make it back to a bathroom near my lab and all but throw myself inside the small space, lock the door, and lean on the hard surface.
A burning sensation forms on my neck, a deep pain, and I reach under my hair, trying to rub it away, but I’m so sick, I drag myself to the toilet and heave. When it's over, I collapse onto the floor and squeeze my eyes shut against the burning on my skin. Time stands still and the dizziness controls me.
Eventually, it eases, but I have no idea how long I’ve been on the floor. I hoist myself to my feet and walk to the sink, rinsing my mouth and hands, running cool water on a towel, and pressing it to my neck. My fingers feel nothing, but this incident is not nothing. Panting out a breath, I lift my hair and turn to the mirror with a limited view, but I see enough. The mark is there. It happened. It wasn’t textbook to the other marked women, but then Creed is X2. That must be why. And that’s when the rush of awareness overcomes me.
Creed.
He’s here.
I can feel him as if he’s a part of me and I need to see him, I need to be right.
I yank open the door and he’s standing there, his eyes as blue as a perfect sky. “You know,” I say, and it’s not a question.
“I know,” he says, his voice low and rough. “I can feel it. I can feel you. I’m sorry, Addie. I want you, but I didn’t want this for you.”
I want to step into him, I want to touch him but there are cameras and we both know better. “I’m not sorry. It was meant to happen. It was there between us, and nature just did its thing.”