Forsaken

by Lisa Renee Jones

The line goes dead and acid burns through my veins the way Sheridan has burned through years of my life. Aware I could be watched, somehow I walk, not run, toward the building’s exit, redialing Jared’s number as I do. It goes straight to voice mail. Heavy-footed now, I burst through the exit of the tower to find Liam, Amy, and Tellar standing with the doorman.

  “I got a call from Jared’s phone,” I announce, focusing on Liam. “They have him, and they say they just left Gia at the coffee shop. Get Amy someplace safe now. I’ll call when I can.” I don’t wait for an answer, certain that seconds wasted could cost Gia her life.

  Launching into a run, I dodge random people on the busy sidewalks, quickly crossing intersection after busy intersection, until Tellar appears by my side, announcing, “This is a trap. You know it’s a trap.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I growl.

  “Helping you.”

  “Help me by protecting my sister.”

  “Liam has Amy, and I’m not going anywhere.” We cross a busy street, dodging cars, and while I try to dodge him right along with them, it doesn’t work. He reappears by my side, already running his mouth again. “Did you hear me? It’s a trap. Whatever this is, it’s a trap.”

  “Of course it’s a fucking trap.” Nearly at our destination, I force myself to slow to a fast walk, scanning for potential trouble. “It’s also a ticking clock, with Gia’s life on the line. They killed my family. They’ll kill her.”

  “Let me go in after her,” he says. “They aren’t expecting me.”

  “That’s not happening,” I say, but right about the time I’m about to shove him against a wall and give him a knee he won’t forget for ten years, I spy a cop on the corner and decide that’s a bad idea.

  “They could grab you the minute you walk in the door.”

  Once again, I’m forced to trust him. “Good thing I have a sniper at my back.” We stop at the door. “I know my sister wants me to live, but no one else dies because of me. Gia comes first.”

  “As it should be,” he says, opening the door for me. “Sniper at your back.”

  Another time, that statement would give me pause, but I don’t allow myself to think of anything but Gia. Entering the coffee shop, every muscle in my body is stiff, every nerve ending on edge. I scan as I walk, confirming Jared and Gia are at none of the ten or so sparsely populated tables, continuing toward the hallway leading to the back exit. Entering the enclosed hallway where I’d reconciled with Amy, I find it empty, but my heart misses a beat as I catch sight of the bathroom doors.

  “I’ve got this one,” Tellar says, stopping in front of the men’s room and reaching under his jacket to hold his weapon.

  At my nod, he enters, and uncaring of who I might interrupt I repeat his action with the women’s bathroom, my hand covering my gun, dread in my gut as I push open the door to find the immediate area clear, both stall doors shut. Bending down, my heart stops beating as I find someone sitting on the floor and recognize the boots as Gia’s. Straightening, I try to open the door. “Gia! Gia, open up.” She doesn’t reply and I jiggle the door harder, afraid to kick it open and slam it against her. Pushing my way into the unlocked stall next to hers, I climb onto the toilet and bring the stall below into view, feeling sick at what I find. Gia is bound and gagged, her head hanging forward, a needle stuck in her arm.

  “Tellar!” I shout, lifting myself over the divider, feeling as if Sheridan is using a shovel to gut me right here and now. “Tellar, damn it!”

  He bursts through the door. “I’m here.”

  “Call an ambulance. They injected her with something, and she’s not moving.”

  SIXTEEN

  I JUMP OVER THE STALL WALL onto the toilet beside Gia and unlock the door, which immediately opens in the other direction, and then drop to one knee to wrap Gia in my arms. She doesn’t move, and I can’t breathe. What if she’s not breathing? I’m reaching for the syringe, wanting it out of her arm, needing it out, when I hear “Stop!”

  Tellar bends down in front of me. “Some poisons are lethal to touch. Some so potent even gloves won’t protect you.”

  “Poisons,” I repeat, the word heavy on my tongue. “Please, God, no.” I reach down and untie the gag around her mouth, leaning down to thankfully feel a light rush of air. “She’s alive.”

  “I could see her chest moving,” Tellar says, shrugging out of his jacket and using it to remove the syringe.

  Trying not to think about what a drug so lethal that it can kill by touch could do if injected, I untie her hands. She suddenly jerks and gasps, grabbing my shirt. “Chad. Chad. I . . . where am I? What happened?” She starts shivering. “Cold. I’m so cold.”

  “Hold on, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” I maneuver to get out of my jacket and Tellar takes it, laying it on top of her, and I don’t miss the absence of her jacket or her purse.

  She looks up at Tellar, stares at him a moment, and then, as if she’s just seen him, pulls back, shrinking against me as if she’s just noticed him. “No. No. No. Who are you? No.”

  “Easy, sweetheart,” I murmur, holding her tighter. “This is Tellar. Remember. Amy’s security guard.”

  “I’m a friend,” Tellar promises. “I called for an ambulance, Gia. Help is coming. Okay?”

  “Yes,” she whispers. “Yes. I . . . Amy?” She turns to me, her bottom lip trembling, tears on her cheeks. “Is Amy . . . okay?”

  “Yes,” I say, astounded by the selflessness of her worry. “She’s okay. You’re okay.”

  “No. No. I don’t . . . promise me you won’t make this for nothing. Promise me. My father . . . he . . .” She shivers and curls into me.

  “I’m sorry, Chad,” Tellar says, “but we need to talk about what to tell the police.”

  He’s right. I hate him for being so fucking right. I hate Sheridan. I hate all of this, but I cup Gia’s face, forcing her gaze to mine, and her skin is icy—so very icy. “Gia.” She blinks. She shuts her eyes. “Gia, honey, listen to me.”

  “Listening,” she whispers. “Can’t open . . . eyes.”

  “You need to say you were mugged and don’t remember anything. I’ll handle the rest.”

  “My name . . . Ashley . . .”

  “No. Be Gia. I’m Chad. Just say you remember nothing. I’ll handle it.”

  “Thank you,” she squeaks, more tears running down her cheeks.

  I stroke the dampness with my thumb. “Why are you crying?”

  “Scared. I’m . . . scared. ”

  “Don’t be scared. I’m right here. Help is coming.”

  Sirens sound in the distance, throwing me back in time to smoke and fire and death. I cup her body to me, pushing myself to my feet. “I need to get her to the front door.”

  Tellar backs out of the stall, moving to the exit to hold it open. I rush out into the hallway and it’s a blur. I don’t see people. I don’t see things. One minute I’m holding Gia, and the next she is lying on the sidewalk with emergency personnel all around her.

  “What’s her name?” a paramedic asks me.

  “Gia. Gia Hudson.”

  A police officer appears, and Tellar and I are giving a statement when Gia starts shouting my name. I rush toward her, trying to get her to lie down, while she tries to sit up. The instant her eyes meet mine, she relaxes and I go down between two men, taking her hand. “I’ve got you. I’m here.”

  “Don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t,” I promise, relieved as they start an IV. “As long as you don’t leave me. You hear me? Don’t leave me.” But she doesn’t answer, her lashes lowering, dark half-moons on her too-pale cheeks. She is unmoving, so still, that I watch her chest, savoring every tiny lift I find, every piece of evidence she’s alive.

  The next few minutes become a whirlwind that finds me in the back of an ambulance, Gia having no idea I’m there. I stare at the monitors as I had her chest, terrified by how slow her heartbeat is one moment, and how rapid the next.

  “Why is that happening?”
I ask the paramedic traveling with us, a surehanded man in his late thirties.

  “Most likely an impact of whatever drug she was given. We’re close to the hospital.”

  The implication being that she needs to be there now. Holding her hand, waiting for the drive to end, I promise myself I will never feel this helpless again. Never. Again. And while killing every member of the consortium had once felt like it would invite revenge seekers and more trouble, right now that plan sounds pretty damn good.

  The ambulance stops and the doors are jerked open. I exit and watch as they rush Gia into the hospital, at least five people surrounding her, and there’s no mistaking their urgency. The instant we are inside the building, she is rushed to the back room, and I am left staring at the double doors.

  Alone.

  “Any news?” Tellar asks, stepping to my side, and I can’t believe the relief I feel at this stranger’s presence.

  “No news. She didn’t wake back up on the ride over, and they seemed to be waiting for her when we got here.”

  “That’s a good thing, not a bad thing.”

  “It means they knew she is in real trouble.”

  “No. It means they were making sure she never got into real trouble. I did a lot of years in Special Ops. With an unknown toxin, time is considered critical. And we acted quickly, and so did they—not to mention Liam’s a huge donor here. He’ll have a lot of pull to get her whatever she needs as fast as it can be received. I know you don’t trust any of us, and in your shoes, I’d feel the same, but Liam Stone’s a good man and he loves your sister.”

  “Chad!”

  At the sound of Amy’s voice, I turn to find her running toward me, and I want to wring Liam’s neck for bringing her here when she should be hiding somewhere, protected. Safe. I fully intend to say as much, but she flings herself at me, hugging me, and I am so damn glad she is alive and well that I hold her and don’t let go.

  “How is she?” Amy asks, leaning back, hugging herself, and shivering. “I left my coat at the coffee shop.”

  My mind flashes back to the bathroom, to Gia curled against me. So cold, she’d said, and now I’m cold straight to the bone, yet somehow my frozen heart is being painfully thawed.

  “Chad.” I jolt again at the sound of Amy’s voice, looking down and realizing her hand is on my arm, and I’ve spaced out while Liam fucking Stone has all but painted a target on her chest by bringing her here. “Are you okay?” she says, sounding worried. “Is Gia okay?”

  “Gia wasn’t good when they took her back.”

  “Do you know what drug she was given?”

  “Not yet,” I say.”

  Amy stares at me a long moment. “You love her.”

  Love. I repeat the word in my mind, but it settles in my chest, heavy. Painful. “Love isn’t a word I’ve allowed myself to use with anyone but you in a very long time.”

  She studies me several beats. “But the possibility is there and won’t go away.”

  “We barely know each other,” I argue, though she is right when there’s every reason for her to be wrong.

  “And yet somehow she feels more right to you than anything has in six years. That’s how it was for me with Liam when I met him. It was illogical. It was terrifying because of all the reasons I had to fear strangers. But it wouldn’t go away. And I didn’t want him to go away no matter how many times I told him I did.”

  “Yes, well, I’m not you. I don’t deserve peace, and Gia doesn’t deserve this world any more than you did.”

  “You deserve peace, Chad. You do. You do.”

  “I got us into this.”

  “No. I know more than you think I do. I overheard conversations and I’ve gathered some information. Dad borrowed money. Sheridan extorted him. Mom slept with Rollin, and I lived with knowing that by convincing myself that it was to protect Dad. And you started working for The Underground and tried to help. Sheridan’s the monster, not you.”

  “I see Jared’s been running his mouth.”

  “I needed answers. I deserve answers.”

  “I know that, Amy, but I’d prefer to be the one to give them to you. And you’re right. Dad borrowed money from Sheridan to fund dig sites. Big sums of money he should have known better than to borrow. But I didn’t know Dad was in trouble when I started working for The Underground. I did it for the high and the money I wanted. I even took jobs for Sheridan when Dad told me Sheridan was trouble. But when I tried to pay off Dad’s debt, Sheridan insisted I do another job for him. He wanted me to find something for him that seemed innocent enough.”

  “Until it wasn’t.”

  “Right. And once I knew what I had, I wasn’t sure who to give it to and I’m still not. I think they knew, and it’s speculation, but I’m fairly certain Rollin threatened Dad to get into Mom’s bed and try to find out more about what I was doing. When he pressured me I told him I couldn’t find what he wanted. He said someone from The Underground said I did.”

  “The Underground betrayed you?”

  “I never told anyone about that job. Someone lied for the payout. And I promise you, if I knew who, they’d be dead.”

  Her brow furrows. “I’m confused. Who helped me hide, then?”

  “A friend.”

  “So the tattoo wasn’t for The Underground?”

  “No. It was just a tattoo we got together one night out partying.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Dead, Amy. Everyone close to this dies.”

  “Oh God. Chad, I don’t understand. If Sheridan thought you didn’t have it, why kill him and burn down our house?”

  “He must have believed I had it, and thought I was selling it to someone else.”

  “But . . . then he made sure he’d never get it either.”

  “I know. I’ve spent six years trying to make sense out of it. There is none.”

  “I need to know what it is. I need to feel like I have a reason to keep fighting this fight.”

  I reach up and stroke hair behind her ear. “And you deserve that and so much more. It’s a cylinder the size of a pencil eraser that would make enough clean energy to make all other sources of energy unnecessary.”

  Looking confused, she asks, “Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “Yes and no. It would crumble industries and governments. It would make the one person who holds it in their hand capable of demanding anything. Doing anything.”

  Liam joins us and I give him a hard look. “We need to talk.”

  He gives me a nod and we move several feet away, but I don’t wait to lay into him. “What the fuck is she doing here? You’re a damn prodigy architect, which means you’re supposed to have brains. What part of ‘they were herding us to one spot’ do you not get?”

  “Herding us, or trying to make us scatter like wild, scared animals? We had Amy cornered in that hallway, the three of us all willing to die for her, and they picked another target. Right now, she’s safer right here with us.”

  “You want to know about ‘right now’? Right now, Jared is most likely being tortured for information he doesn’t have to give. When they find that out, they’ll lash out again. Amy can’t be here for that.”

  “I need to know what’s going on.”

  I am not in the mood to explain anything to this man. “Ask Amy. I just told her the entire story.”

  “I need Gia Hudson’s family!”

  I whirl around, rushing to meet the fiftysomething gray-haired nurse near the double doors Gia disappeared through. “I’m Gia’s husband,” I announce as Amy steps to my side and asks, “How is she?”

  “Disoriented, but stable and resting,” the nurse reports. “We’ve started fluids to help with the nausea and to flush her system of any toxins.” She hesitates. “We’re waiting on your wife’s test results, but I need to let you know that the syringe tested positive for arsenic.”

  Amy gasps, grabbing my arm as if she needs to be steadied. “Arsenic,” I repeat, the word falling from my mouth like lead, i
mpossibly heavy. Impossible to believe. “She was injected with arsenic?”

  “It would seem likely, yes.”

  “What’s the treatment for arsenic poisoning?” Amy asks.

  More importantly, I ask, “What’s the survival rate?”

  “There are a number of drugs and protocols, depending on the toxicity,” the nurse replies. “Right now, her condition suggests limited exposure. Let’s hope that proves true.” She offers me a clipboard. “We’d like to have you sign for consent. We feel like it’s best to start treatment now.”

  “Without the final tests?” Amy asks. “Is that safe?”

  “Time is critical with a toxin,” the nurse explains. “We feel this is the smart choice.”

  Sold on fast action, I sign the documents and hand back the clipboard. “Start treatment.”

  “We’ll be out with an update soon,” she promises, disappearing behind the doors again.

  I grab Amy’s hand, keeping her close as I return to where Liam is ending a phone call. “Gia’s stable, and the syringe was positive for arsenic. I need to know if Dr. Murphy can treat her, and I need to know now.”

  “She can, and she will. I already have Tellar working out the logistics, but she’s only in if she feels she can treat successfully and we can get the medication.” He motions to Tellar, who’s talking on the phone a few feet away.

  Amy gapes. “What? Are you crazy, Chad? We can’t move Gia now. We don’t even have her test results.”

  “I can hack her results,” I assure her. “I can’t bring her back from the dead, which is what she’ll be if she stays here.”

  “What’s the word?” Tellar asks, holding the phone away from his mouth.

  Liam tells him, and he quickly returns to his call. “Arsenic. Low doses expected. Stable condition.” He listens a minute. “Got it. On it.” He ends the call. “Make sure they’ve started the meds before we leave, and take the IV bag with us. She said that should happen within half an hour. The big question is how we get her out of here.”

  “They’ve already started treatment,” Amy replies, “which says this is dangerous. She needs hospital care.”

  “She needs to be somewhere safe,” I counter. “This isn’t it.” I glance between Liam and Tellar. “We go big and bold. I pick her up and carry her out of here, only it’s not Gia, it’s a decoy. Tellar will have Gia and take her to a safe house, where we’ll meet her.”