Chapter 13 #2
“The moment I realized you and Adam were gone…” Caleb pauses, clearing his throat, before continuing. “I came for you, but we were surrounded by HPAW soldiers. I had to fight through them, and there were so many. By the time I made it outside, you were already gone.”
I open my mouth, but Caleb shakes his head and continues speaking. “There was a decoy truck. In my panic…” He rubs his cheek against mine, the motion rough and furious. “I followed the wrong one. I’m so fucking sorry, Ev. I made a mistake.”
He grabs my hand, the one that once held my mark, and kisses my bandage. His eyelashes are wet.
“It wasn’t your fault.” I mean it. “You couldn’t have known. It was an ambush.”
Caleb’s lips are on mine again. He rolls me onto my back and hovers over me, careful not to apply too much weight on my chest. I wouldn’t care if he did.
“Really?”
Doctor Greg’s voice cuts through the room, destroying the moment. Caleb groans, pulling away. His eye remains swollen and bloody. Without the suppressants, it would have healed by now.
HPAW would kill for this information. They would find a way to weaponize the suppressants. It would be catastrophic.
“How are you feeling?” Doctor Greg asks me.
“Good,” I say. “Better.”
Doctor Greg shuts the door behind him. His hair is tousled, like he’s run his hands through it a few thousand times. Given everything that’s happened today, I’m sure he has.
He gestures to my collarbone. “Any concerns?”
“No.”
“Good.” He walks around the bed, his attention shifting to Caleb. “You know the drill.”
Caleb grits his teeth but sits still as Doctor Greg begins manhandling his face. The doctor pokes and prods at the swollen skin around Caleb’s eye. This goes on for several minutes.
Eventually, Caleb lifts an arm, clearly intending to push the doctor away. Doctor Greg is quicker. He swats Caleb’s hand, then continues his examination.
“Why the suppressant?” I ask, distracting Caleb. “The risk…” I clear my throat. “You could’ve died.”
Caleb frowns. “I want HPAW to think I’m dead. Without the suppressant, I would’ve healed within minutes.”
I prop myself up on my elbow, watching Doctor Greg push into the soft tissue of Caleb’s cheekbone before pulling a small glass bottle from his shirt pocket.
Caleb flinches as several drops of clear liquid are dropped into the corner of his eye.
A pink tear builds up and drips down his cheek. It looks painful.
“What’s that for?” I ask.
Doctor Greg hands me the bottle. “Pretty Boy refused to have his eye taped shut, but he’s not producing any tears and his eye keeps drying out.” Pretty Boy? My lips twitch as Doctor Greg continues. “He needs three drops every ten to fifteen minutes. You’re in charge of it.”
I grimace. “Why me?”
“Because Knox is a terrible patient. You’re his mate, and I’m sure you’ll have better luck getting him to listen.” Doctor Greg faces Caleb. “Cover your right eye.”
He takes a few steps back, and Caleb obediently places a hand over his right eye.
Greg holds up four fingers. “How many?”
Caleb squints. After a second, he shrugs.
“Four?”
Greg frowns. “You’re guessing.”
Caleb presses his lips together, but he doesn’t dispute the accusation. How badly did that rubber bullet mess up his vision? Will it recover? Is it permanent?
“Any details on the chip?” Caleb asks Doctor Greg.
“Nothing beyond what Daniel shared,” Doctor Greg says.
“The chip is advanced. It can pick up sound waves, even through skin. We assume most of the audio was muffled and hard to understand, especially if Evelyn wasn’t being spoken to directly, but we’ll have a better understanding soon. I’ll keep you updated.”
He leaves, mumbling something about needing to check on another patient.
“I swear I had no idea,” I say the second Caleb and I are alone.
I’m desperate for him to believe me.
“I know,” Caleb assures me. “I understand. This wasn’t your doing.”
After everything I’ve done, how can he believe me? I sure wouldn’t.
Caleb kisses the bandage covering my destroyed marking. I turn away. My marking is gone. Forever. I’ll never see it again.
“Hey,” Caleb whispers. He cups my cheeks, forcing me to look him in the eye. “I love you, Evelyn, mark or not.” He swallows. “Look at mine.”
I drag my eyes toward his marking, prepared for the worst. Tears blur my vision, but I don’t need detail. It’s the color I care most about. His marking is dark pink, a drastic change from the almost-black it was before.
Caleb is silent as I touch it.
“I thought…” I pause and clear my throat, not wanting to mention our method of communication while I was imprisoned. “I feared that what happened between Adam and me would’ve darkened it.”
It was enough to trigger the infidelity pain, and I read that cheating is one of the quickest ways to ruin a mark.
“It did,” Caleb admits. “A day or so after your capture, I felt a sudden burn. It was… agonizing, but my marking turned light pink afterward. Adam told me you cut off your marking. I think that’s what it was. You sacrificed for our bond, and—”
“I cut off my marking so I could convince HPAW that I was still loyal to them.”
“It was still a sacrifice,” Caleb argues. “But when we began communicating, it darkened.”
Communicating. That’s one word for it.
“How did you do it?” I ask. “And with whom?”
Jealousy threatens to rise. I shove it down.
Caleb frowns. “Let’s not talk about this right now.” He licks his lips. “I just got you back. I want to bask in that a little bit longer.”
I suppose that’s understandable. It won’t be a fun conversation.
“Are you sure you aren’t angry about the chip?” I ask.
It’s hard to imagine Caleb feeling anything but contempt for me right now. Several shifters died today. Because of me.
Caleb shifts, his swollen eye roaming my face as he brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. I lean into his touch. “Nothing HPAW did is your fault. It was never your fault.”
I glance at the clock on the wall, distracting myself. Caleb needs his eyedrops in three minutes.
“What if there are more chips in me?” I ask.
It’s an anxiety-inducing thought I’ve been trying hard not to panic about, but it’s worth mentioning. If HPAW could sneak one chip into me, what’s to stop them from adding in another? For all I know, I could have a thousand chips in me.
I could be a walking HPAW beacon.
“There are no more,” Caleb promises. “It was one of the first things we looked into. In close contact, the chips interfere with one another. There can only be one per body.”
That’s what he thinks, but HPAW seems to have had the upper hand a lot lately. I wouldn’t put anything past them.