Chapter 9 #2
It definitely shouldn’t, but it absolutely stung that he’d just left her high and dry. He hated her, she knew that, but she thought that she at least held enough value that he would save her from these men.
Well, not really save.
Did it count as saving someone when you only wanted the person to live so you got to kill them before someone else did?
Not really.
In the end, it didn't matter who ended her life, but the thing was, at least if she went with Blade, she knew the end was coming quickly.
As soon as she told him everything she knew about her boss, she was dead, there was no reason for him and his team to keep her alive.
But Dr. Gardner would keep her alive indefinitely.
Force her to keep working on the drugs while he sabotaged them himself with his incompetence.
She didn't want any more deaths on her conscience.
Enough, there was already more than enough.
So she kept climbing down the tree and made it to some of the last branches before she’d have to jump to the ground when her luck ran out.
Whitney reached for a branch, her hand slipped, and she was falling, landing with a bone-jarring thud that had her groaning, tears stinging the backs of her eyes.
No time for tears, if you want to survive you have to get out of here.
Scanning the area, when she didn't see anyone, she quickly pushed herself off the ground and scrambled for the driver’s door of her car.
If Blade had taken the keys with him, then this would all be over pretty quickly.
She’d run of course, but there were twelve men out there all hunting her, and she had zero survival skills.
All the men appeared to still be off searching for her, and nobody stopped her as she yanked open the door and pretty much threw herself inside. Not bothering with her seatbelt, Whitney searched for the keys so she could start the engine, but they weren't there.
Why weren't they there?
Why did Blade have to think of everything?
He hated her, she knew that, but … but … there had been something in his eyes when he’d been so gentle with her the day before as he tended her wounds, and this morning when he made them both breakfast that made her think … that he cared a teeny, tiny, little bit about what happened to her.
That maybe he didn't hate her.
But of course he did. What more evidence did she need? His abandonment was proof enough. Why wouldn't he hate her? She was a bad person, the evidence of that was quite literally seared into her skin.
A loud bang caught her attention.
That sounded like …
No it couldn’t be … could it?
Gunshots?
Had Blade not left after all? Had he been out there all along? Killing the men after them silently so he could take them all out without them even knowing he was there?
Hope soared inside her, and even though she resumed her search for the keys, in case they’d just fallen somewhere in the crash and Blade hadn't taken them with him, she prayed that those shots had come from Blade and he hadn't abandoned her.
“Looking for something, baby genius?”
At the sound of the taunting voice, her gaze snapped to the side where she saw Mark Lucas standing there, grinning at her. Her personal babysitter, the man who loved tormenting her, of course, it had to be him who found her.
With a terrified squeak, she launched herself across the seat, heading for the passenger door.
Of course, she couldn’t escape him, but she had to try.
She wasn't going back to her old life without a fight.
Honestly, she’d rather die out there right now than either of her other options.
Torture and death at Blade’s hands, or torture and forced imprisonment at Dr. Gardner’s hands.
Both of those choices were awful, and if she could make Mark angry enough, maybe he’d just kill her now and it would all be over.
“Uh, uh, uh,” he tutted as he reached into the car just as her fingers grazed the doorhandle.
So close and yet so very far away.
Fingers tangled in her hair, and she was yanked back hard enough that it made her feel like her scalp was on fire. Screaming was a bad idea, she knew that, knew that Mark liked it when she screamed, and yet she couldn’t seem to help it.
Terrified didn't even begin to describe how she felt.
Plus, she hurt. All over. Her wrists, her shoulders, the thin scratches from the knife that Blade had left behind on her skin. It was all just too much.
Too much.
“Did you really think you could escape?” Mark taunted her as he shook her and then threw her down onto the ground.
Some long-buried instinct seemed to kick in, because instead of cowering like she usually would, Whitney immediately shot back up to her feet and tried to run.
Not that she got anywhere. Mark was on her in an instant. Large hands hit her shoulder blades, shoving her forward. Tripping over her own feet, Whitney went down hard, sending arrows of pain spearing up her forearms all the way to her aching shoulders.
“Made a mockery out of me, didn't you, baby genius?” he taunted as he stood above her. “Look at me when I'm talking to you.” Leaning down, his hand circled her already bruised throat as he physically spun her around so she was sitting on her backside staring up into his angry face.
If she thought she’d seen this man angry before, that was nothing.
The way he looked at her now … that was pure evil. It reminded her of the look in Blade’s eyes as she hung in that tree, only maybe it was worse. Blade had every right to hate her, to blame her, to want to punish her for her sins, but she’d never done anything to Mark to earn his fury.
“Did you think about the consequences to other people when you decided to try to play hero? Did you think it would turn those monsters into pets if you tried to warn them? You're just a brain, you should learn to know your place. That’s your only worth. Did you think Dr. Gardner would let you go without a fight? You belong to him, baby genius. He bought you fair and square, and if you think you're just going to return to your cushy little lab unharmed, you’ve got another thing coming. I found you, which means I get to decide your punishment, and I can assure you it’s going to—”
Mark never finished that sentence.
One second, he was leaning down over her, his hand still around her neck, the next, blood sprayed all over her as somebody cut his neck wide open.
The hand on her neck loosened. Mark’s dying body fell, and behind him stood Blade. Like an avenging angel, dressed all in black, his dark hair mussed, the bloody knife gripped in his hand tight enough that she could see his knuckles had blanched.
“Did he hurt you?” Blade growled, his glare fixed on the man lying at his feet but then softened as he looked to her.
Slowly, she shook her head, hardly able to believe he was there. That he’d saved her. That he hadn't abandoned her.
“You didn't leave,” she whispered.
Confusion filled his dark eyes. “Of course not. I told you I was going to kill them.”
“You saved me,” she said in awe. Nobody had ever done anything like that for her before.
Without any conscious thought on her part, she scrambled to her feet and threw herself at Blade, who easily caught her.
Wrapping herself around him, she clung to him as she buried her face against his neck, all her emotions crescendoing inside her until they had no choice but to burst out into noisy sobs.
He hadn't left.
He’d stayed.
Killed for her.
Saved her.
And now she was more confused than ever about how he felt about her, and about how she felt about him.