Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
It was crazy, but Blade was fairly certain that he actually trusted Whitney more right now than she trusted him.
They should probably both distrust each other equally. He had no way to prove that she had been nothing more than a ten-year-old girl when she created the drug and was sold to Dr. Gardner, and she had no way of knowing that he didn't have any more plans to torture her.
Maybe he should. Little girl or not, she was still the person who had created the drug that stole his life from him, but what kind of monster would he be to punish a literal child for something she’d had zero control over?
Whitney’s drug was intended to save lives, not create super soldiers, and certainly not end lives. Blaming her for the fact that her parents, the people who were supposed to love and protect her, sold her to a mad scientist who exploited her was wrong. Plain and simple.
The thing was, he did believe what she’d told him.
All of it.
The timeline and what she’d said about her mom aligned with what they already knew, and she very clearly looked like she was in her early twenties. Sure, she could just have really good genes, but he didn't think that was the case.
Then there was this … “Whitney.”
Without any hesitation, she turned her head to look at him, the sound of her own name so ingrained in her that even though she’d clearly been lost in thought, staring out the car window at the farmhouse they were about to leave behind, she’d registered her name being called.
More proof she’d been telling him the truth.
“Hmm?” she asked, like she wasn't quite sure she was supposed to talk. He’d noticed that about her.
She seemed unsettled whenever he didn't give her explicit instructions about what he expected. Floundering. It was no wonder. He knew enough about Ridge Gardner and how the man treated others from what Rose had told them about her childhood to know that the man would have micromanaged every aspect of Whitney’s life for the last twelve years.
“You ready to go?”
“If you're ready,” she answered, like she believed what she wanted had no bearing on the situation.
In some regards, she wasn't wrong. It wasn't safe to leave her there alone, she was too close to the warehouse, and he wouldn't put it past Dr. Gardner to have people combing the area for her, after all, she’d betrayed him and he wouldn't accept that. He’d cuffed her last night because he needed sleep as much as she did, and neither one of them would get it if Whitney escaping was on the table.
But he didn't consider her a captive.
A tool to be used, sure, she had valuable intel about Dr. Gardner that Rose could never provide because the crazed scientist’s little sister wasn't part of his military plans to turn regular soldiers into super soldiers.
But Blade was making sure he didn't stop seeing Whitney as a real person, a living, breathing human being with her own thoughts, needs, and emotions. She’d been used more than enough in her young life.
And damn, was she young.
Twelve years younger than he was. Twelve years, the entire time she’d been living as Dr. Gardner’s prisoner.
And what had her life been like before that?
Graduating from high school at seven, and college with four degrees by ten, hadn't left her with much time to just be a child.
Likely her entire life had been doing what others expected of her.
“Let’s get out of here then,” he said as he turned on the engine.
“Yeah,” she whispered, and she sounded exceedingly sad to be leaving a house he knew she’d only been at for a handful of days.
He knew that because she’d told him that she was made to live on site, so she didn't waste valuable working time traveling. This place was in the same name as the fake ID he’d found, so she must have set herself up with a new identity, hoping it would be enough.
If he hadn't heard her in the forest the night of the explosion, it might have been.
Neither of them spoke as he drove in the car she’d obviously also set up for her getaway.
It was in the same name as everything else, so it was clear it had been a piece of her plan.
She’d done well, getting herself set up so she could escape, finally be free to live her life the way she chose, and Blade couldn’t deny he felt bad about ruining that for her, even if he was selfish enough to keep her close and use her.
Use but not torture.
Before leaving this morning, he’d talked to his team, and they knew he was on the way. They trusted his judgment that Whitney appeared to be telling the truth. Torture was off the table for all of them, they weren't going to make the same mistakes they’d made with Rose.
Besides, he’d already tortured Whitney, and he couldn’t let go of the heavy weight of guilt he felt because of it.
Should have been smarter and done more research before assuming the worst. Although he knew they couldn’t possibly have guessed that a mere child had created the drug.
The logical assumption was that she was running because she was involved, but still, he wished he’d simply locked her up and then figured things out.
No going back though.
All he could do was move forward. Get Whitney home, find out everything she knew, use it to destroy Dr. Gardner, and then …
Blade wasn't sure what came next.
Let Whitney go and allow her to finally find her own way in a world that had controlled her every step so far seemed like the fair thing to do, especially if she helped them get their revenge. So why did the idea of letting her go leave him feeling like—
Abruptly, he lost his train of thought when he noticed something he didn't like.
Three cars, all black SUVs with tinted windows, were driving slower than necessary along the winding mountain roads. There wasn't a doubt in his mind that those were Dr. Gardner’s people. The vehicles were the same ones that the scientist had used when they’d set the trap for him with Rose.
“We might have a problem,” he warned Whitney.
While he was ninety-nine percent positive that she wouldn't try to get away from him, she had to know that she was safer with him than she was with Dr. Gardner, there was that tiny sliver of doubt that she might try to escape while he was dealing with these people.
“What?” Whitney turned away from the window she was still staring out of to meet his gaze.
“Three SUVs up ahead of us.”
“Those look like …” she paused, swallowed audibly, “like the vehicles Dr. Gardner’s guards use.”
“Thought the same thing, darlin’.”
“Can we just drive around them?”
“If we do, we’re only going to draw their attention.”
“Then we just keep going, follow along behind them, sooner or later they’ll turn off somewhere, and we can drive past them and then go on to the airport.”
That was a possibility, but he was pretty sure that as soon as they registered their presence, they would try to pull them over.
What they had on their side was that he doubted Dr. Gardner and his men knew that he was there.
They were looking for Whitney, not him, and not two people.
Even if he got Whitney down low, had her hide, if they saw him, they’d recognize him.
There was no way every person on Dr. Gardner’s staff didn't know what he and the rest of his team looked like and had orders to take them into custody if spotted.
Before he even had a chance to figure out what he wanted to do, the cars suddenly did U-turns and picked up speed as they headed toward them.
“They’re coming,” Whitney squeaked, shaking in her seat.
“Hold on.” That was the only warning he gave before he did the same thing. Swinging the car around and heading back up the way they’d just come. All he needed was to put a tiny bit of distance between them so he could kill these men before they could get to Whitney.
“What are you doing?” Whitney cried when he suddenly yanked on the steering wheel, so they were now heading toward the trees.
“Crashing the car.”
“Killing us?”
Blade chuckled despite his fear for the woman beside him. “No, darlin’. Just going to make them think we crashed, then I’m going to get you to hide while I take them out.”
Because he knew Whitney was only going to panic more the longer this took, Blade aimed them at a large tree just up ahead, drove right for it, then slammed on the brake at the last minute, so their impact was minimal.
Barely feeling it, he was moving the second the car hit the tree. Grabbing his weapon, he flung open his door, closed it behind him, then rounded the car to get Whitney.
It was time to do a little hunting.
January 12th
8:40 A.M.
“You're really just going to leave me here?” Whitney asked as Blade physically picked her up and set her in one of the branches of the tree he’d just crashed the car into.
He said that he was making her hide so he could take out the men in the cars that had suddenly U-turned and come after them, but she didn't believe him.
How could she?
She was his prisoner, and he had zero reason to care whether she lived or died.
Okay, that wasn't entirely true. He wanted information from her, but that was it. She still absolutely believed that once he had that information, he and his team were planning on torturing her and killing her. Or maybe just killing her if they believed she’d been just a child when she was forced into this world.
But in the end, dead was dead, and what else would they do?
Let her go?
Not likely.
Why let go of a perfectly good target for revenge when you could just kill them and be done with it?
Even if they let her go, she had no job, no identity, no money, no home, no family, she had nothing and nowhere to go. It wasn't like she could set herself up with a fake identity the way she had before, because then she’d been using Dr. Gardner’s funds to set everything up.
“Not sure your high IQ is going to help us with this one, darlin’,” Blade replied.