by Imogene Nix
“Tell me who and I’ll ensure they have no access to you or Clarrie or even your records. I can have them locked down—” Sara’s words were cut off by Clarissa.
“Oh, that’s fucking rich.” Clarissa tugged against the bindings, her face dark and harsh in the artificial light. “You don’t have any idea, do you? There were so many that came and went. He not only allowed others access, he watched and egged them on. If they’re here, they’ll have no concerns at circumventing any restrictions you put in place. To think that you can somehow weed them out is stupidity.” Her tone was waspish, and Michael watched her eyes narrowing with spite.
“But Clarissa, we can…”
“Leave it with me, Sara. I’ll talk to Clarissa and see if we can’t come up with some kind of plan.”
Clearly Sara wasn’t happy with that. Her lips drooped then firmed before she opened them to frame her argument, but Michael shook his head.
“You’ve got other patients to see, and I can stay here with Clarissa as long as she needs.”
He waited, hoping Sara would take the hint. She did, spinning on her heels, but even as she left the room, she turned her head back to pin him with a furious glare. “Michael, I want to know everything. I can’t help if I’m not part of the discussion.” Then she went, pulling the door shut after herself.
Michael made his way over to the chair near the bed and sat down heavily. “Jeremy Colvert, eh? Never liked him. He always struck me as an arrogant git, too full of himself and too much money to think he had to abide by any rules.”
He glanced at Clarissa, surprised by the glint in her eyes.
“I was going out with him. There was an accident, apparently. I don’t know a lot, but he spoke to my parents, I saw him. He said he had tried to save me, but I don’t think he did.”
She spoke quietly, as if each word stole a portion of her soul. “I was a nanny with a family in the Retrogrand area. He’d been a guest at the house, and we met there. He asked me to the opera and…I liked him.”
The words hurt Michael deeply. That Clarissa had been treated so poorly, that he’d shown careless disregard and likely had groomed her was sick and twisted. Rather like the man himself, Michael thought.
“So, what happened next?” He reached out, knowing instinctively that she needed his support to get through what would come after that.
“I woke up, fastened to a bed, others coming and going. Then he turned up. I didn’t understand at first, but he told me he’d chosen me, that there’d been others, but I was the one he personally wanted. He hurt me.”
He squeezed her hand. “How?”
“They experimented. Burns and shocks, cutting and other things.” She turned her head away, facing the wall, and he felt a cold weight in the pit of his belly.
“Sexual stuff?”
She clammed up, but he saw the rise and fall of her chest. “He gave them free rein. They didn’t touch me like that or even rape me. It was other things. They told me I wasn’t human and I had no rights. That I was a thing he’d brought back to experiment on. That’s not right. I’m more than that, aren’t I? I have rights, don’t I?” Now she shifted, her eyes hungry for validation. Her gaze wide and unblinking.
“You do. Just like me, you have to prove yourself as stable, but what you’ve done with Clarrie, the care you’ve shown, and the fact that you’re willing to work with me—”
“No. I’m not going to tell you more if you intend to use it against him. He’ll find me and take me back. Then I’ll have nothing. Be nothing. That won’t happen, doctor.”
He sighed and scrubbed a shaking hand over his aching eyes. She’d started putting up thicker walls, the kind she kept between herself and everyone else. Everyone except Clarrie.
He understood her fears and concerns more than anyone else ever could. “If he isn’t called to account for his actions, if we allow him to do this again, others will suffer. You don’t want that to happen, do you, Clarissa?”
She closed her eyes and the droop of her mouth pierced him. “Look, I want to be me again. I want to study at University and become a teacher. I want to have friends. I want my life back. They’re all things he stole from me.”
“Then I’ll help you. Jeremy may think he’s never going to be caught, and he might think he has resources that set him above everyone else, but I’ve got contacts too, and we’ll use them to make him face the scales of justice. You just have to believe in me and trust me.”
The grip of her fingers turned hard, and he stared at her, willing her to open her eyes and look in his direction.
“I don’t suppose you’d start by unfastening me then?”
He grinned at her words but leaned over and removed the restraints.
In her smile of thank you, there was more than a glimmer of hope, and it warmed his heart.
Chapter 9
Clarissa had the suspicion she had agreed to something bigger and more encompassing than anything else she’d ever considered. It was scary, but knowing more about Michael, that he was like her and in her corner, gave her a small amount of comfort. Very small. She smiled.
She did want her life back. She didn’t want to have to hide who and what she was because of something Jeremy had done to her. How others had used and abused her.
“I want to believe you, doctor.”
“Michael.”
Clarissa blinked at his dry tone.
“My name is Michael, and I’d like you to use it, especially if I’m going to help you regain your life.”
“Okay then, Michael. I’m scared, and I don’t think I can fail again or let him take me back. If I do, it might break me into tiny pieces.”
Telling him that was like peeling the layers of her defenses away and letting him see the softer underbelly that could be so easily hurt.
“I won’t, Clarissa. You and me? We’re the same, the two sides of a coin.” He moved so that he settled on the side of the bed, which dipped under their combined weights.
“I’m not sure how that could be. You’re a man and you’ve got the kind of resources I could only dream of.” She spoke quickly while the wild jump of her pulse did a dance of arousal. It was a spike of adrenaline, and she wasn’t quite sure where it had come from.
He had such clear eyes, she noticed. A deep green that married perfectly with his sandy hair. Close up, it looked like a mop of silk, and her fingers itched to curl and rub through the softness. His skin was fine, except where his afternoon growth was covered in stubble.
She wanted to hold her breath, but his scent invaded her nostrils, and when she inhaled, attempting to clear her mind, it hit her gut, spearing down past her belly to the area she’d thought wouldn’t ever wake again.
Excitement quivered, but she fisted her hands. He might be the same as her, but she was broken on so many levels she knew she’d just drag him down to her plane of misery if she even thought about anything more between them.
“There’s more to me than that, Clarissa.” He raised a hand, cupped her cheek, and she almost vibrated at his touch. “I’ll never hurt you. I give you my word.”
Mesmerized, she watched as he came closer, his lips skating over her cheek while her mind and body went into overdrive.
Pull away, her mind screamed while the rest of her body wanted to arch in and accept the tenderness he offered.
“I… Uh…”
He pulled back, his gaze scanning over her. “Clarissa, I would like…”
She watched in fascination as he struggled with intense emotions.
“It’s okay, Dr. Michael. I get it.”
He jerked away as if stung. “Yeah. Look, I promise he won’t touch you.” The words sounded hollow, and he glanced away.
She reached out, amazed when his nerves jumped as she noted his averted eyes and flattened lips.
“I should go.” He made to rise, but she gripped his arm, willing him to stay.
“No. Stay with me. Talk to me. Tell me about who you were before.”
With
a sigh he settled back to the edge of the bed. “What do you want to know?”
“I’d like to know about Michael, the boy and man. Not so much the doctor,” she said, hoping he’d understand the underlying message in her words.
He swung around, their gazes colliding.
“I grew up locally. My mother was a doctor, and my father an inventor of some note. I had a great childhood. My sister and brother were close to me, and when they grew up to be an agent and a senator, it wasn’t a surprise. My sister’s in a position of authority. She was involved in the re-writing of the old Hippocratic Oath that became the ‘No Harm’. I went to medical school—which was where I met Sara—and decided surgery was my thing.”
He paused, and Clarissa fluttered her hands, telling him wordlessly to continue.
“She and I were friends through med school, not that we had a lot of time to do anything except exchange textbooks.” He smiled, and that tiny change took him from gorgeous to drop-dead sexy, and she sucked in a deep breath while her mind processed the change.
“So why didn’t you… You know, after?”
He barked a laugh. “I thought about it in the last couple of months of our internship. Then she was busy initially with her work as a medical researcher and I was enjoying myself. I was a semi-professional athlete. A tennis player.”
She sat up. “Really? That’s something I wanted to try, but I never had time. Nannies don’t get a lot of free time, and I usually used mine doing washing or catching up with my friends.”
“Once you’re out of here, I’ll take you down to the sports center and you can try it out.” He spoke with such ease, yet she wouldn’t hold Michael to that promise. So long as she was still here and not recaptured by Jeremy.
“Tell me about growing up.” Her demand was met by a small laugh.
“It was a normal childhood. I grew up in the west of town. My parents owned an estate, so we all had plenty of room. With grassed grounds and room for my dog, Chowie. He passed when I was eleven, and it devastated me. That’s when my parents urged me to find an activity, and I ended up with tennis. After that, study and tennis kept me busy. For a while I considered going pro. I was achieving scores that would have allowed me to do that. But then I’d look at my mother—she’s a cardiologist—and know she was making a real change in people’s lives. That’s what decided it for me.”
Clarissa slumped back in the bed, thinking over his words. “My parents are great too. I hate that they think I’m dead. I went around there once, I told you that, didn’t I?” Michael nodded, and she jerked her gaze to the ceiling. “My sister and brother were there too. I miss them. A lot.”
“You can have it back, all of it. All you need to do is tell me more about what Jeremy did. How he abused you. I’ve got contacts. My sister and brother are just the start.”
His sister was a senator, his brother an agent. He had money and resources. Could he keep her safe?
“Why would you do this, Michael? I mean, you could turn your back and ignore it all. I could just go away, and you wouldn’t need to do anything. So why?” The burning need to know bloomed.
“Because I don’t want you to feel such pain. I want to help you. I feel something for you I don’t understand, and I want to investigate it. I’m a man who needs to understand what makes things happen.”
Clarissa gulped. “You feel something for me?”
“I do.”
Michael’s soft words restarted the haphazard tattoo of her heartbeat.
“I need time, Michael. I can’t just go from nothing to hoping for everything again. It’s not that simple for me. And I… Trusting is hard.”
“I understand, Clarissa.” This time when he rose, she let him go, as the drag of exhaustion pulled at her. “Take a nap, and I’ll be back. I’ll make sure you’ve got guards outside the door and only Mariah, from catering, Sara, or myself will be admitted.”
She gave a small, tight nod and closed her eyes, her head aching with everything she’d learned.
Chapter 10
Michael left the room. It was understandable that Clarissa was tired. So much had happened, and her body was weakened by the life she’d been living. She also remained fearful that Jeremy would try to regain what he’d lost.
He could take a few steps immediately to get the ball rolling on justice.
Back in his room, he touched his watch, anticipating the shine of the holo-pad. He tapped out the number and waited until his sister’s harried face filled the green holo-screen.
“Hey, little brother. Is this urgent, or can I get back to you?”
“Normally I’d say I can call back, but this is something that I think would interest you. Can you talk?”
Her eyes narrowed. “What’s up, Michael? You’ve not got yourself in trouble, have you?”
“No, sis, I haven’t. But I’ve got a friend who needs your assistance. Is there anyone in earshot?”
She rose and disappeared from sight. From the thud that echoed, he knew she’d shut the door to her home office. Then she returned to his view, sitting down heavily.
“So, tell me what you’ve got.”
He proceeded to do so, pleased she allowed him to run through the facts without interruption.
“You’re sure it was Jeremy Colvert?”
“Yeah. She knew him beforehand.”
Daniella rubbed a finger over her brow. “We need to bring David in on this too. This is huge stuff. You’ve got her secured?”
He nodded. “I have, but Jonah and Franklin would be welcome.” His two buddies from his GMC days had also been his aides and personal guards. Both were brawny, and with their extensive military service, Michael knew if anyone could keep her safe, it was them.
“Give me a few hours to clear my calendar and let me contact David, okay? We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
The screen blanked, and his fingers itched to click his brother’s contact details, but he knew Daniella was right. She usually was.
A tap at the door had him rising. “Who’s there?”
“Catering.”
He opened the door and frowned as an unfamiliar face filled the opening.
“I’ve got your lunch.”
The trolley was wheeled in, and his muscles tensed. “Where’s Mariah?”
“She’s off sick.”
Tiny alarms went off in his brain. “Thank you. Leave it there and I’ll deal with the rest.”
He waited as the man disappeared through the closing door, then caught it before it clicked. He peered out into the corridor and watched the man grab another tray, which he deposited in front of the guards.
The guards lifted their cups to their lips and sipped.
The catering officer continued to dither around, as if checking the order. Suddenly, the guards slumped.
Michael hissed and gathered his scattered wits. Whoever the man was, he wasn’t from the hospital or catering.
The man pushed a cart to Clarissa’s door, sat the two guards up in their seats, pulling their caps down over their eyes as if they were resting, then shoved open her door.
Michael waited until he was inside before pulling his own door fully open. Then he charged, moving on swift feet and shoving the wooden barrier out of the way.
Once inside he stilled, as the man held a tiny laser pistol on Clarissa.
“You shouldn’t have followed me.”
The man aimed the gun at Michael, who pivoted, pleased to have his bio-cybenetic strength and speed.
The burst of light grazed his flesh, but he bared his teeth and sprang. Michael landed on the man with an oomph and an almost inaudible crunch. The sudden jerking action of the man beneath him was reminiscent of the war, and for a moment, he was flung back into his memories of death and destruction. The man slumped and stilled on the floor.
The tang of bitter almonds whispered in the air. “Cyanide,” he said softly. Clarissa blinked, and Michael sighed. “He’s dead.”
Michael pushed himself off the body, an
gry with himself and the dead man on the floor.
“Are you…” Clarissa’s voice wobbled a little. “…all right?”
He glanced at her. She was as white as a sheet while her gaze settled on him, and fear gnawed at his guts.
“I’m fine. He didn’t manage to hurt you, did he? Didn’t inject you or…”
She shook her head. “I’m not the one with a laser strike. Now come here and let me see how bad it is.” She flung off the sheet and twisted, and he noted the way her hospital gown gaped at the back. He hadn’t noticed that before, nor the fine shaking of her lips and hands.
“I’ll be fine.” He didn’t think he could handle her being near him, almost naked, while the surge of his emotions continued to overwhelm him.
“Don’t be a baby. Sit down and let me grab a clean, damp cloth.”
She climbed down from the bed, reaching for the basin and a cloth that hung from a hook. When she turned he caught sight of her back and further down, her rounded buttocks. Blood rushed to his face, and elsewhere too, so he had to close his eyes, count to ten, and yet it wasn’t enough.
“Michael?” She’d returned and he hadn’t heard her. She touched him and he groaned. “You’re badly hurt, aren’t you?”
Anguish filled her voice, and he reached out, blindly groping for her hand. When he trapped it, her pulse fluttered like the beat of a butterfly’s wings. He dragged her closer, opened his eyes, and surveyed her face. “I’m going to kiss you.”
Then he did.
* * * *
Clarissa felt the touch, the way his lips settled over hers while the buzz of reaction continued. It had felt like the crawl of dozens of ants in her belly until he kissed her. Now there were a million sensations as hunger and need warred with pleasure.
Too much! Her brain tried to decipher it all. Images and flashes appeared on her eye screen, and she blinked, clearing her vision so all she saw was him.
