Chapter Two #3
As Hilker pressed the needle into Isaiah’s flesh, Isaiah distracted himself by focusing on wiggling his little toes.
It was a sharper pinch and more extended discomfort than the blood draw, but still nothing like the months of agony he’d just been subjected to.
So many months, when they could have had this instead.
It turned the back of Isaiah’s mouth bitter, and he swallowed the thought down.
That only left it to stew in his stomach though as he watched Hilker move from one sample to the next.
Between gritting his teeth, he asked, “Why do you do this?”
He half-expected Hilker not to answer—he hadn’t exactly been chatty during procedures up till now—but to Isaiah’s surprise, the scientist nodded slowly.
“I have dedicated my life to conducting the research that no one else will. Research that will explore new horizons and break preexisting theories, regardless of whether it is deemed financially viable to the big money that supports our scientific structures.”
“I don’t mean the science.” Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe this was how he brought the agony back. Suddenly, as long as he was alive at the end of the day, he didn’t care. “I mean, why do you hurt people? Innocent people. Justin, Clementine, me, and there’s others; there’s always others.”
Hilker paused with the needle still buried into Isaiah’s belly.
This was a mistake—Isaiah could see it in the stiffening of Hilker’s jaw and the way his lips came together.
But then he swallowed, and carefully, professionally, drew the instrument out.
“Different question,” he said, slowly, “Same answer.” He motioned Isaiah up, but he didn’t quite seem to be looking at him as he did, his attention more distant.
“Sometimes, pain now is necessary for growth later.”
“Other people’s pain?” Isaiah objected, drawing himself onto his elbows. Something twitched inside him, a moment of sharpness that faded out just as quickly. “Who gives you the right to make that choice for them?”
“Would they make it for themselves?” Hilker placed his final sample in its holder and closed the lid. “If I opened the front door for you—if I had that power—would you stay here, in the lab?”
Isaiah’s throat went dry. He wouldn’t, not for the sake of Hilker’s science. Not for their end goal. But for Landon…
His gaze must have betrayed him, because Hilker’s lips twitched. “If that is your reason for staying, I think most philosophers would say you are still not making a choice.”
“But you are,” Isaiah insisted. “Every day, you come down here—and don’t say, someone else will if you don’t.”
Hilker almost smiled at that. “No one else can do what I do,” he said, turning his full attention onto Isaiah for the first time since Isaiah had laid back upon the table.
It held the yearning of his predatory, lustful moments, but with a fire behind them, cold and dark and hungry.
He spoke softly, leaning forward as he did—leaning toward Isaiah.
“You want some kind of brutal honesty from me, is that it? Do you want me to admit that I am the villain here?”
Isaiah’s whole being screamed to shy away, but he held his ground—held it, where he couldn’t for all the past weeks of being dragged around and tormented like a lab mouse.
He could feel Hilker’s breath, see the way the inner side of his lower lip gleamed from saliva, smell that hint of sweetness from his blood. A shudder ran through him.
“I am not so uncomplicated as that,” Hilker continued. “But I want what I want, and sometimes, I want it enough to take it.”
Isaiah’s heart thrummed against his ribs and as he fought the rising urge to retreat, he found that battle growing easier by the moment.
Fuck, Hilker did smell nice. Perhaps he was terrible and perhaps he was arrogant, but if Isaiah only had to survive just one more day…
He swallowed, his tongue sliding against the roof of his mouth before he spoke, just as low, just as hot. “You want me.”
It wasn’t a question, and Hilker didn’t verbalize a response, but the way his gaze shifted down to Isaiah’s lips was answer enough.
Isaiah kept breathing, kept surviving. One more day.
“If you had me,” he said, softly, “Would you…” He glanced at Landon’s cell, unable to find the words for such a simple request. “They don’t deserve this.
They’re not a monster. They could live a good, happy life outside of here, just the way they are—perhaps not an easy one, but still happy.
” One more day, that was all. “If you give them that, you could have me.”
He didn’t add, willingly. They both knew Hilker could take whatever he wanted—did take what he wanted, when that desire was scientific in nature.
But he seemed to be just honorable enough not to inflict pain outside of that.
At least, Isaiah realized in horror, not yet.
Maybe it was coming. Maybe it had always been coming.
Hilker’s mouth moved, his own tongue sliding forward, but he seemed to swallow down something, and with a predatory control, he leaned back.
“I don’t work that way, love.” He stepped away even further as he said it, and with his brow raised, he held out his hand.
“Now, it’s time for me to evaluate those samples, and you to return to your cell. ”
Isaiah looked at the hand, and without pausing to hesitate, he ignored it, chin up and shoulders back as he walked himself back to his cell.