Chapter Thirty-Two
Addie
The green recliner that sits between Jensen’s and Maddox’s beds has become my hangout spot. Finally, Maddox is resting. The poor man has been through hell—absolute hell—throwing up, shivering, and shaking. The same things I’d seen Creed go through, yet Jensen, who’d been injured more seriously, has experienced nothing but peaceful sleep.
“Knock, knock.”
I glance to the door to find Katie in the entrance. “Hey there,” I greet with a smile, glad for her return. Katie had been so busy earlier. She’d whizzed in, drawn blood, checked vitals, and taken off again.
“What happened to my order for you to rest?” Katie queries.
“I’ll rest when you rest,” I counter.
“Still as difficult as ever, I see,” she teases, claiming the rolling doctor’s chair. “And no, before you ask, I don’t have your blood work back.”
I grin. “I was going to ask.”
“I know,” Katie says. “Everyone does. I still can’t believe you were wearing Creed’s mark for all that time at Groom Lake and didn’t tell me. I would have kept it a secret.”
“I didn’t want to put you in that position. And I always thought we’d come forward. Things just… happened.”
“Things,” she snorts. “That’s a good way of putting it.”
Guilt flares inside me—so much guilt over so many things, all of which resulted in Maddox and Jensen in hospital beds. “I’m sorry I dropped off the face of the Earth.”
“If you mean Germany and the silent treatment,” Katie says, “I’m not. You should have stayed there. You were safe.”
“Safe is an illusion as long as Julian is free.” It was also far away from Creed , I think, which is where this conversation is headed, at least in part. “The final lifebonding process where I convert to GTECH. It hasn’t evolved, right? The eye color change. The sickness. My symptoms all seem like I’m converting, but we haven’t done a blood exchange.”
“What triggers your symptoms?”
“Intimacy,” I say without hesitation. “I’m not sure simply spending time with him, being close to him, isn’t a trigger.”
“The process as we know it hasn’t shifted, but Creed is far more advanced than most of the GTECHs. It’s possible his body has evolved, and perhaps now the process doesn’t require the blood exchange. Maybe a few sexual encounters will do the job.”
That isn’t the answer I wanted. No sex, no lifelong bonding—there has to be an in-between. Maybe a condom but…this idea dismisses my body’s reaction to just being close to him.
Katie tucks her hands in her lab coat. “It could simply be that you’re ovulating. If you are, it’s quite possible this is simply your body responding to your mate—a natural need to reproduce.”
I study her a moment and read the room. “You don’t believe that ovulation thing for a minute. I windwalked and survived.”
“With Creed,” she says. “There is a physical bond there that, in theory, might have offered some protection.”
“Katie,” I press. “Shoot straight with me. Tell me what I need to know, not what you think will make me feel better.”
“You’ve bore the mark for two years—which I still can’t believe you kept from me, but nevertheless—Mother Nature has a way of finishing what it begins. And as I said, Creed may well have evolved in ways the others have not. There’s no denying he has skills with the wind that the other GTECHs do not. Of course, I have no idea why. He refuses to give blood. I think he’s afraid we’ll find out he’s a monster like Julian.”
“Because he’s X2 like Julian,” I say.
“Yes,” Katie agrees. “But if he didn’t turn aggressive and join the Zodius movement while he was undercover, enough time has passed that he’s not going to. And if he’d let me take his blood, maybe we’d find out he isn’t X2. Maybe the test was an error. Or maybe he has something that offsets the X2 violence. I can help him get answers if he lets me. He won’t.”
Creed doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do—except bond with me. I don’t want it forced on him. I’ve never liked that premise. Marriage is a choice. This is not, it seems. “If seeing each other again has somehow bypassed the blood bond, can it be stopped if we stay away from each other?”
Katie’s brow furrows. “If you don’t love him—”
“I do,” I say. “But that’s exactly why I can’t force myself on him. It’s complicated. Too complicated to get into right now.”
She considers me a moment. “If you like, tomorrow we can sit and talk. I’m here if you need me.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I’m really glad I found you again, Katie.”
“As for stopping the process, I don’t know, Addie. There’s clearly a strong, natural pull between you two. And for the record, I know he loves you, too. I can see it in his fretting over you.”
Jensen moans and rolls over, bringing another question to mind. “Why does Maddox have the healing sickness and Jensen does not?”
“I wish I knew,” Katie replies fretfully. “The more developed the GTECHs’ evolvement, the more enhanced the healing sickness. And the worse their vitamin C deficiencies as well. A good portion of the men now have to inject themselves daily with high doses of C.”
“Creed?”
“Yes. A larger dose than any of the others.”
The mark on my neck tingles, and I murmur, “Creed,” a moment before he appears in the doorway, filling it with his broad shoulders and dominant presence. Dominant. Everything about the man dominates my senses. His hair tied back, his face brushed with a light shadow of masculine stubble. He steals my breath, and while I should be angry with him for being such a jerk earlier, I’m too relieved he’s back safely to stir up the battle. There are things to say, things to understand between us, and now we have the chance. Now we’re together.
“Did you get the bullets?” I ask anxiously.
“Not only did we get them,” he says, “we put them to good use on the Zodius soldiers who’d camped out near our entrance. They’re gone. We sent them home to Julian with their tails tucked between their legs.”
“If I never see another one of those bullets in one of our men, it will be too soon,” Katie declares, rolling her chair so that she brings us both into view. “I was just going to find Addie a place to get some rest. We took some blood and hope to have some answers tomorrow.” She hesitates and then, “It would help to have a sample from you too, Creed.”
Seconds tick by, his jaw set in a hard line, his expression indecipherable, before he says, “Where do you want me?”
You can almost hear Katie’s jaw hit the ground before she jumps up to offer her chair to him, and in the process, she casts me a discreet wink. “Let me get supplies,” Katie says. “I’ll be right back.”
Obviously, Katie believes Creed’s agreement to give blood is meaningful and related to me, though I don’t know exactly why. And I can’t think right now anyway. Creed enters the room, nearing me, and my stomach flutters with his overwhelming presence.
He claims the chair, his eyes locking with mine. “How are they?”
“Maddox has been horribly sick, but it seems to have passed.”
“How are you?” he asks gently.
Better now that he is back, I realize. “I’m okay.” I tilt my head, studying the blue of his eyes that only I can see flickering with something I cannot read—something dark and troubled. “Are you?”
A long pause, and then in a barely audible voice, he says, “I don’t know, Addie.”
My lips part in shock at this admission. He’s never made such an admission to me. Never. I doubt he has to anyone. He needs me right now. That’s what he’s telling me. I open my mouth to tell him I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. But Katie returns, armed and ready for action. “Okay. Let’s get this done so you two can get some rest.”
Creed’s eyes linger on mine for another moment before he offers up his arm. Katie completes the blood draw—two more tubes than she had drawn from me—and then pockets it all. “All set,” she says, taping up a cotton ball on his arm. “Preliminary results for Addie by morning, but really, I’d like to keep her here for observation for a few more days.”
Creed’s eyes rocket to mine, an expectancy of my objection that doesn’t follow. “I’ll have to figure out how to contact my father and make up an excuse for being gone that he will buy.”
Creed arches a brow at me in surprise.
“You gave up your blood,” I say softly. “I’ll give up my time.”
Understanding flashes in his face before he casts an accusing look at Katie, his tone gently chastising. “I see you’ve discussed my distaste for your needles.”
“It might have come up,” she confirms.
His expression darkens. “What’s happening to her, Doc?”
Katie’s gaze shifts between the two of us. “What’s supposed to happen. I think you both know that.” She lets her answer hang in the air a moment before she adds in her more official tone, “As for the biology of it all…well, we’ll see what the tests say. My non-scientific opinion is that as long as close proximity exists, I suspect your bodies will continue to try to complete what has started.”
“Which means being apart is the only way to stop it,” Creed assumes.
It isn’t a question but rather a statement, and I have the instant sense that it’s something he’s been thinking on his own. Of course, I have as well, but unbidden, those words rip through me and twist me in knots. There had been no goodbye last time we parted ways. He’d just disappeared. I can see the writing on the wall, and I’m just not sure how I endure that pain again.
“If it can be stopped,” Katie continues, tugging me out of the wildfire of my thoughts, “and I mean if, at this point, it may be too late, but I could be wrong. As I told Addie, this could be something as simple as hormonal fluctuations that fade when you two are apart. There certainly are scientific reasons we need to understand what’s happening. We need to know if bonding can take place without a blood transfer. We need to know what bonding ultimately means for the couple. We’ll try to find out everything we can as fast as we can.” She shoves her hands in her lab coat again. “I’ll go get the testing started for you, Creed, and then catch a few winks myself.” Her attention shifts to me. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. We can grab coffee between me poking and prodding you.”
“Sounds good,” I say. “Well…the coffee part. Not the part where we become test subjects for the greater good.” I hold up my hand. “But I, of all people, understand why that’s necessary.”
“I’m sorry, Addie,” Katie offers. “I know it’s kind of sucky. Get some rest.”
A moment later, Katie departs, and I’m alone with Creed, my heart pitter-pattering against my ribs in a wild, bluesy kind of beat that says heartache is coming.
Creed rolls the chair around to face me. “Ready to get out of here?”
I’m not sure where this is headed, but I hope to find a place where I can rest. “Yes. I’m ready.”
He offers me his hand, and I tentatively settle my palm against his. Warmth spreads up my arm and across my chest. He opens his mouth as if he intends to say something but thinks better of it as his lips press firmly together. I don’t press him. Not here. Not now. I want to be alone with Creed. To be with him . God, how I want to be in his arms, more than I want my next breath.
For now, though, hand in hand, we walk through the sparsely populated hospital and exit a door to a narrow electronic conveyor that travels through a high cavern. Flickering fluorescent lights splay across the lower level from the ceilings and walls and seem to flow miles ahead.
At one point, we’re in the center of the walkway, and it feels like we’re on a deserted highway in a far-reaching, desolate mountainside. And I can feel the beat of Creed’s emotions and his pain. I halt and turn to him, and as if in reaction to my not-yet-asked question, he pulls me close, his big body pressing intimately to mine, his hands tangling gently in my hair, and his forehead pressed to mine.
“My mother,” he whispers. “My mother is what’s wrong. I confirmed she’s a part of all this.”
I pull back, the taut lines of his handsome face ripe with despair. I reach up and brush a wayward strand of his hair from his mud-streaked face. He hasn’t slept. He hasn’t even rested. I doubt he’s eaten. And he’s beat up, emotionally and physically. “Are you sure? Did you see her? Talk to her?”
He inhales a labored breath, and I settle my hand over his heart, feeling the pounding vibrate through my palm, my touch meant to soothe and support. Finally, air trickles from his lips, and he begrudgingly confirms, “I saw her. She lied and said she sold the Green Hornets to the military.” His hand covers mine over his heart. “I expected you to do what I didn’t do with her. Give up on your father. I knew what my mother was, but I still went there tonight wanting her to prove me wrong.”
Tears prick my eyes. God, I understand. And his honesty undoes me. “Creed,” I say softly, everything I feel—so much emotion—in the way I breathe out his name.
His hand tightens over mine. “I need to tell you I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry .”
My free hand cups his jaw, the rasp of shadowed stubble against my palm. “I’m sorry for both of us, because you weren’t wrong about my father. I would have celebrated you being wrong about either one of them, but I was emotional. You were what I should have been, Creed. You were logical. I’m ashamed I wasn’t.”
“Don’t say that. You have nothing to be ashamed of. We’re supposed to protect our family.
Our conversation ends abruptly as a buzzer sounds, and I jerk around to find our pathway ending, and so soon, we’re forced to turn and walk off the conveyor and into the most amazing place I’ve ever seen in my life. Suddenly, I’m inside an underground city.
On one side of a red brick street are quaint little stone buildings; on the other, there are stores and restaurants. There are even random outdoor tables and chairs.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “How is this even possible?”
“Money and a lot of care,” he says. “And Caleb wanted this place to feel like home to those who live here. A safe place that wasn’t like a prison.”
“Is this what Zodius is like?”
“This city, our city, is much smaller. Zodius City exceeds our population by thousands.”
“That’s a terrifying thought—all those people following a monster. It’s like Hitler all over again.”
“You have no idea, baby. I saw it every day I was there, but I think his power scares them into submission. They feel like his leadership is inevitable, so following him is the way to survive.”
He’s right, of course. I’ve read plenty of studies on the nature of the human psyche. “How did the Renegades afford all of this?”
“Private money from people like myself and Maddox, who had it to give. Caleb struck a funding deal with the government as well when we agreed to support them.”
We cut left and step onto another conveyor belt that travels inside a tunnel to a walkway that branches left and right. We turn right to a row of doors and stop at the very end. “This is me,” Creed announces, punching in a code on a panel and opening the door. “What’s mine is yours. I think you know that. I’ll come by early in the morning, and we’ll get you a phone line to call your father. We can make it look like it’s coming from your cellphone. I’ll bring you some clothes, too.”
My stomach knots, and it’s then that I realize I haven’t been sick in hours, but I am now with the idea of him leaving. I press my fingers to my throbbing temples, not sure if I should ask him to stay or let him go. I don’t want to force the bond on him. I will never want more than he has to give.
“Addie,” he murmurs softly.
I can’t look at him for fear he’ll see just how tormented I am. I’ll push him. I’ll push us to what we can’t undo.
“Addie, sweetheart, look at me.”
But he doesn’t touch me. I turn toward the door, step inside, and halt when I hear, “I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself if I come in that door,” he admits hoarsely. “I’m hanging on by a thread right now.”
Hope flares inside me, but I hold it close to my chest and proceed with caution, trying to understand what he really wants from me. “And if I don’t want you to go?”
“You heard what the doctor said about bonding. We can’t be sure it won’t happen.”
“I know. I hate that damn bond.”
He steps back as if I’ve slapped him. “I know. Goodnight, Addie.” I can feel the sense of bitterness and the feeling of being betrayed that I just created in him without that intent.
“No.” I close the space between us and wrap myself around him. “You took it wrong.”
He doesn’t touch me, and his body is steel against me. “There’s only so many ways to take that, Addie. Let me go before you end up fucked into a bond you don’t want. I’ve told you I can’t control myself. Not with you. Not with the bond.”
He still hasn’t touched me, but I’m relentless. I hold onto him, and I don’t let go. “And that’s why I hate the bond. Because it makes you want me. I don’t want it to choose me and force me on you. I want you to be able to choose me the way I chose you a long time ago.”
His hands come down on my head, and he tilts my face to his. “I chose you the moment I met you by that elevator, woman, long before the mark ever existed. And I believe that’s why the mark even exists. Because I chose you. Because you were always the one. How do you not know that?” His mouth crashes over mine, the lick of his tongue as tender as it is wild, and in the midst of that kiss, he walks me backward, inside his apartment, and kicks the door shut.