TWENTY-EIGHT
Guilt almost eats me alive. I never should’ve let my insecurities get the best of me, and now that I’ve faced Zoe, I feel like shit. The poor girl is so young, so thin to the point I’m concerned for her health. I’m unsure if she’s even being fed proper meals.
Arlo didn’t mention her much after we left the venue. He was too busy thinking about everything she told him, and he’s patiently waiting for her to contact him. In the meantime, we continued with our training sessions, and even Aria joined a few. To say she blew my mind would be an understatement. The girl can shoot, and she can shoot hella good.
She also enjoys being praised. Whenever Arlo would compliment her, she'd have this look of pride and pure excitement on her face, and it’s only then that I realized just how alike the two of them are. Visually, she looks like Hudson while Arlo looks like Noelle, but personality-wise? They’re basically the same person.
Noelle sent Hudson and Arlo off to do something for her, which she didn’t tell me what it was about. Instead, she took me out and drove us to the base. I’m not quite sure what we’re doing here just yet, but soon enough, I get my answer.
We don’t enter the remodeled factory, and she takes me for a walk around it. Behind the massive building is a small botanic house. My brows narrow, and she just motions with her head for me to follow. With a million questions swirling through my head, I oblige and keep my footsteps close to hers, steady and unwavering.
The closer we get, the more I realize why she took me here. Well, a part of the reason. The other part remains unknown.
We stop outside the glass door, and Noelle presses a button on the small keypad. She types in a password, and we’re let inside. The small hallway is closed off, and there’s a pair of metal doors separating us from the botanic garden itself.
On the right side is a tall, narrow wardrobe. Noelle opens it and pulls out two pairs of disposable protective clothing.
“Take your shoes off and put this on.”
She hands me one, and I oblige, though a bit weirded out. It feels like I’m a doctor about to step into an epidemic scene, and I’m not sure how to feel about it.
Once she secures her clothes, she helps me secure mine tightly, paired up with masks and four pairs of gloves. She then looks at me before pushing the door open.
“Don’t touch anything. Half of these are poisonous.”
I don’t need to be told twice. But as we walk, I can’t help but be amazed by the sight. Except for the small hallway at the entrance that seems to be a metal box, the rest is made out of thick, durable glass. It’s very tall, and the herbs, flowers, and even some sort of trees are all around us.
It’s a beautiful sight, my eyes skimming through it. Noelle takes the lead, walking a couple of steps in front of me. I don’t ask anything – I’m too mesmerized by the amount of different things in here. From small herbs that resemble grass to big, beautiful, and colorful flowers that I’ve never seen.
Each plant has a small card next to it, with some dates, a name, and the purpose.
Noelle and I reach another pair of doors and step inside, the door automatically slamming shut behind us. Then, something starts sprinkling all over us. It starts as rain droplets, then it turns into mist, and eventually into something like clouds – yes, it sounds stupid, but I’ve never seen anything like that.
It all lasts around ten minutes, and when the loud buzzing noise comes, a green light flickers above us. Noelle’s the first one to strip out of the protective clothing, then tosses hers into a small bin. I follow suit, watching as she pulls out a pair of shoes for each of us.
“I’m assuming I’ll be meeting Freya?” I ask.
Noelle nods.
“What was… all of that?”
“Just safety precautions. We got hosed down with many antidotes, just in case the protective clothes got anything on them. Now, put your shoes on and follow me.”
I slide my feet into the comfortable shoes and step into the room behind Noelle.
The room is massive, and it looks like one of those labs I’ve seen on crappy crime TV shows. Aria’s been forcing me to watch them with her after dinner every night.
On the right side is a wide desk with a few computers. The rest of the room has a lot of cabinets, a lot of research gear, and even a stove. From microscopes, pipettes, and a beaker to droppers, scales, and even a centrifuge. At least three of each, in different sizes and from different manufacturers.
And behind one of the desks, in a white lab coat, blue latex gloves, and a pair of glasses, stands one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Her hair falls down her mid-back, the gorgeous shade of ginger immediately capturing my attention. Her freckled face looks like it was molded by Greek gods personally, and when she flutters her eyes toward Noelle and me, I’m shocked at how beautiful her eyes are.
The shade of her brown eyes is unique. A color between amber and honey brown, with a couple of yellow specks scattered around her irises. She has a small piercing on her right brow and one on the left side of her bottom lip.
She doesn’t say anything, glancing between Noelle and me with a quirked eyebrow.
“Freya,”
Noelle smiles warmly and approaches her. “What are you working on?”
“An antidote,”
she responds. Even her fucking voice is absolutely mesmerizing. “Did you need anything?”
“Hudson told me you agreed to be on this special mission.”
Freya turns off the small stove, takes the gloves off, and tosses them into the garbage can under her desk. Then, she moves to sit in the leather chair behind the computer, spinning around to look at both of us.
“Yes, we came to an agreement. I help out; he builds me a second garden. But who is that?”
I take a few steps forward. “Blair, nice to meet you.”
Her eyes narrow at me, and I can tell she’s studying me. She looks at me, head to toe, at least seven times, before humming, then leans back into the chair, her fingers tapping against the armrest on each side.
“Freya,”
she introduces with a nod. “What can I do for you today, ladies? Pardon my rush, but I don’t get visitors here often.”
I’m about to respond, but Noelle beats me to it. Truthfully, I don’t know why we’re here, so Noelle taking over is a blessing, because from what I can tell, Freya doesn’t like to be stalled.
“I need something from you,”
Noelle says with a sigh. “Since you’re already aware of the things we’re going to be doing, I’ll spare you the boring details.”
Freya nods, silently urging Noelle to continue.
“I need a poison, a toxin – whatever. I have reason to believe that people might come for Blair, and I need something that is powerful enough to kill with a single drop. Just in case she needs it.”
Freya lifts a brow, eyes drifting to me.
This is all news to me. No one mentioned that Simmons might be coming for me, but I won’t doubt Noelle’s words. She’s been in this world way longer than I have, and if she has reason to suspect it, I won’t brush it off.
The mere thought of Simmons coming to get me sends chills down my spine, a wave of nausea building in the pit of my stomach. I swallow it down, focusing on the conversation, albeit with slight difficulties.
“I could always offer you dimethylmercury.”
My brows snap upward. “What’s that?”
“A very powerful chemical,”
Freya explains. “The toxicity of dimethylmercury was highlighted back in 1997. A professor from Dartmouth College specialized in heavy metal poisoning. A single drop of this specific poison through her latex glove caused the compromise in the barrier, and within minutes it was absorbed into her skin. She passed ten months later from it, and it was a very, very painful death. I could put it into a small needle dropper. All you’d need to do is stab someone with it, and it would immediately be absorbed into their organism. It doesn’t need to run out entirely; a drop would be enough.”
A shiver courses through me at the thought. I glance at Noelle, and even she seems reluctant.
“What’s the dropper made out of?”
“Glass,”
Freya explains. “Very durable glass. You won’t shatter it easily. But it’s mercury, meaning no antidote, no cure. Very risky.”
“What do you think, Blair?”
Noelle’s words snap me out of the little trance. I’m trying to process it and to figure out if it would be a smart move to carry something so dangerous around me.
“What would happen if I broke the glass accidentally?”
“Best case scenario, it doesn’t get on your skin or anyone around, and you’d still get mercury poisoning. In the long run, you could treat it, but never cure it. Worst-case scenario? It gets on you, and you die in a slow, painful death.”
“Can I see those droppers?”
Freya nods and stands up, then walks over to her cabinets. She pulls a small dropper out and puts it in my hand. It’s very small, half the size of my thumb and thin. The bottom part has a very thin needle, covered with a small glass lid, to ensure nothing would drop out.
“How durable is this?”
Freya takes it back from my hands, then lifts her arm as high as possible and just lets the dropper fall onto the tiled floor. It bounces twice before it rolls down, landing in front of me. With a frown, I bend down to inspect it, and not a single scratch or crack is on the small container.
“Very durable.”
It could be useful having this on me. Worst case scenario, I’d ensure Simmons would end up dead for sure. But that’s still a terrifying thought. What if he finds the small dropper and ends up using it on me?
Then again, it could be used on anyone else, not just Simmons. It’s a tough decision to make, and I don’t have the luxury to think through it. With both Noelle and Freya staring at me, expecting an answer, I get back to my feet, handing Freya back the dropper and sighing, blurting the words out.
“Fine, I’ll take it.”
“I’ll have it ready soon.”
I thought Noelle and I would return home once we were done visiting Freya. She took me inside the base and told everyone to take the afternoon off, leaving the two of us all alone in the basement. I changed into a pair of her sweatpants and a loose cotton shirt, then just stood there, waiting for her to pull out a big briefcase.
“So, what are we doing here?” I ask.
“Hudson taught you how to fight, Arlo taught you how to shoot. It’s time I taught you how to use my weapon of choice, no?”
She smiles.
She opens the briefcase, and it’s filled with different types of knives. From small pocket knives and daggers to blades that barely have a handle. Each one is sharp, shining under the light, and in perfect condition. It looks like a single scratch would need stitches from the collection I’m seeing.
“Pick one,”
Noelle motions with her head.
“Uh,”
I pause, bending down to look at them closer. “I’ve never used anything like this. What would suit a beginner the best?”
Noelle shakes her head. “No, that’s the mindset that’s setting you back. I don’t have the time to teach you from scratch. Pick one, and I’ll make sure you get used to that specific type of blade and have a couple of the same ones made for you.”
I take a deep breath. “Alright, this one,”
I point to the first one that caught my attention.
It’s not too big, not too small. Enough to fit inside my pocket without being noticed, but definitely looks like it’d get the job done as well as any other blade inside the briefcase. Noelle’s eyes soften, and she chuckles.
“Ah, that one,”
she hums. “I’ll give it to you for practice, but you can’t take it. I’ll have the same made for you.”
“Any reason I can’t use that one?”
She pulls it out and smiles softly. “This is the blade my husband stabbed me with back before we got together.”
“Pardon?”
I ask, thinking I must’ve heard her wrong. Noelle just laughs, shakes her head, and hands me the knife, not satisfying my curiosity. She pulls me toward the part of the basement where I can throw the knife easily, and that’s how it begins.
For the next couple of hours, Noelle teaches me how to throw a knife and how to use it. She makes sure to tell me the most sensitive parts of a human body and where to slice and aim. She says that I shouldn’t aim for the heart unless the person is unconscious; otherwise, it could backfire quickly. Instead, she told me to aim for the throat, hands, and stomach. She shows me the exact spots to try and hit to immobilize the person.
Noelle takes out two wooden knives, with the weight the same as the real ones. These ones are dull, and although they could cause a bruise or two, they’re not deadly. With those knives, we practiced attacks and how to dodge and block.
I knew that she was an exceptional woman, but this was way better than I anticipated. The moment we started the little sparring session, she turned into something else entirely. Her eyes were dark and calculating, and it was as if all of her senses were heightened. Every step she took, every block of my knife or attack, was precise, deliberate, and measured. Almost like she could predict my move before I even thought of making it.
“I know that you might think this is too much.”
Noelle sips on her water, drying her forehead with a towel. “But your muscles will remember. Muscle memory is a very real thing, and I can already tell that your senses have sharpened since the day I first met you.”
“Thank you.”
Noelle shakes her head. “Don’t thank me. Thank yourself. Yes, we trained you, but it’s your effort and hard work that made you improve. You’re very strong-willed, and it’s admirable, truly.”
Pride blooms in my chest. Hearing praise from Noelle is vastly different than it coming from Arlo or Hudson. It has deeper meaning, and the effect is immediate. A smile forms on my lips, mirroring the one on her face.
“Look,”
she starts speaking, patting the seat next to her on the bench. I sit, looking at her. “I don’t know exactly what you’ve gone through with Simmons and Adams, but it’s not hard to piece the details together. I just want you to know that you have our full support here. The moment Arlo chose you as someone he would be willing to risk his life for, you became a part of our family, and we’ll treat you as such.”
My throat tightens, the raw emotions on her tongue hitting me right where it hurts the most. Yet, it feels almost healing. Like a small part of me had been put back together at the mere sound of her soft voice. My eyes swell with tears, and I can’t hold them back.
Gently, Noelle brushes them off with her thumbs, giving me a small smile.
“Thank you,”
I whisper.
“You need to stop thanking people for every little thing.”
I shake my head. “This isn’t something small. I’ll never be able to express how much this means to me and how lucky I’m feeling to have met you, all of you.”
“Tonight, you’ll rest. Tomorrow, Hudson has called for the planning meeting. I’ll need you with a clear head because you may not see it, but you’re very intelligent, and we’ll need your input. This is your life, too.”
“I’m just scared of messing up.”
Her brows narrow. “Messing what up? If you mess up, we’ll clean up after you. Mistakes happen – I’ve made more than I could possibly count. But we’re family, and we’ll have your back first and foremost.”
More tears start to flow freely down my cheeks. I can’t remember a single instance from my childhood where my mother was loving. Before she started selling me to various men to use me, she was physically and mentally abusive.
Yet, this woman in front of me is treating me like I’m one of her children. Something twists in the pit of my stomach, and my eyes gloss up from the tears. Gently, Noelle pulls me into a hug, and for the first time in what seems to be years, I break down.
My tears coat her shirt, and she just hugs me tighter, her hand softly stroking my back, while the other one rests on the back of my head. She smells so comforting, like home. She’s everything I imagine a good mother would be, with or without their business.
She pulls back after a few minutes, again wiping my tears.
“I need you to know that none of it was your fault, Blair,”
her voice is tender, much like her touch. “Your mother was a monster, and your stepfather was even worse. You did well by killing them. You did well by surviving that hellhole. You did well by surviving, Blair. I’m very proud of you.”
That only makes me cry harder. I hate being seen as vulnerable. I never had anyone to trust, depend on, or lean on until I met this entire family. I’d bottle up my feelings and then have a breakdown, and on repeat. I never had anyone except Arlo tell me they were proud of me, to tell me that I was right to kill my parents.
There’s not an ounce of falsehood in her eyes, and the stern look she throws my way tells me not to question her. With a simple nod, I brush off my tears, wiping them with the hem of the shirt she gave me.
No matter what, I won’t fail these people. They gave me a place to call home, somewhere I could feel safe, and a family to come back to. I won’t risk losing them over my own stupidity. Paul Simmons and Nelson Adams will regret the day they ever encountered me, the day they took part in the horrid abuse I’d been put through.
And no matter what, I won’t allow these people to suffer. I’ve finally found a place where I feel like I belong, and nothing will take them away from me. Not Adams, not Simmons – not anyone.
Even if it costs me my own life.