Silent Truth

by Sherrilyn Kenyon

  That was wrong. He’d failed her. If he got her out of here alive he wouldn’t let her down again.

  And if this bunch saved her he’d build them a new wing. When would the doctor come out? They’d had enough time.

  Hunter turned toward the door.

  Hart tensed. Kore better send the best security they had and plenty of them. Hunter was going into Abbie’s room.

  The door opened and a haggard-looking doctor with gray hair and a slender build came out, face strained from the battle he’d fought. Hunter’s chest constricted, steel bands tightening with each breath.

  “She’s stable,” the doctor said. “She flatlined, but we got her back. Took a little longer to bring her blood pressure up to an acceptable level.”

  She flatlined. She died. Good God.

  “Why? What happened to her?”

  “We don’t know yet.”

  “I need to see her.” Hunter didn’t give a damn how raw his voice sounded.

  The doctor looked over at Hart, who nodded. “Of course.”

  Two more technicians came out. One wheeled a cart filled with equipment out the door, then Hunter entered.

  A plump blond-haired woman in scrubs and thick nurse shoes wrote notes on a clipboard. She swung around at his entrance. “She’s not awake yet.”

  He nodded but didn’t move.

  Hard to tell which was whiter, Abbie’s face or the pillow under her head and the sheet covering her. He wanted to hold her, to feel life moving through her. The machines taking her vital signs beeped happily with a steady rhythm, but he needed to touch her to convince himself she was going to be okay.

  His heart beat out of control. He’d almost lost her. Almost lost the one thing that meant more than life to him. She’d started climbing inside him the first time her laugh snuck past his barriers to touch him. Somehow she’d breached his best defense and wrapped her fingers around his heart.

  He couldn’t imagine living without her.

  What a time to figure that out.

  “Let me finish up, then you can come over here,” the nurse told him. She turned to a lightweight laptop unit set up next to Abbie’s bed.

  He took in a deep breath and ran a hand over his hair. He could handle waiting a few more minutes now that Abbie was breathing and her heart beat at a stable pace.

  No database information was worth losing her.

  The nurse’s typing jarred his thoughts, reminding him why Abbie had taken this risk. She expected him to get her mother’s records. He shook himself mentally. Don’t let her down now. If he left with nothing else, he was getting her mother’s medical records. Easing the small computer shaped to resemble an iPhone from his pocket, he pulled up a program that would lift everything the nurse was typing on her laptop.

  Like her staff access code.

  And he wanted to find out if a treatment had induced Abbie’s near death.

  “That should do it.” The nurse gave the machines registering Abbie’s vitals stern scrutiny, nodded to herself, and walked over to where Hunter stood. “I’ll be back to check on her, but if you need anything just press that red button on the control box by her bed. Dr. Hart sent an electronic directive that you not be bothered other than visual checks. Ms. Blanton’s vital registration is set on high alert for any significant change.”

  Hunter nodded and pulled his hand from his pocket, where he’d deposited the miniature computer before she turned around. Once the nurse left, he moved to the side of Abbie’s bed and reached his hand to her face. His fingers shook.

  She’d died an hour ago.

  He smoothed his hand over her skin, which was warm and soft. The ache in his chest eased. He could breathe again.

  “Mr. Thornton-Payne—” It was Hart.

  Hunter didn’t turn around. “As soon as Abbie can be moved, she’s going to a facility where I can be with her. I’m not leaving until then.”

  “That’s not necessary. You’re welcome to stay as long as you wish. Just let us know if you need anything. I assure you she’ll receive the best medical care here—”

  Hunter lifted his hand to silence Hart’s rambling.

  The door swept open and closed.

  He eased his hip onto the bed, needing to be closer to her. To do a better job of protecting her.

  Had someone at Kore given Abbie a treatment that caused this? That made no sense unless the person who did so had no idea Hunter was coming to see Abbie before he left. Why take that risk here? Did this have something to do with Gwen?

  What if no one was responsible… except Abbie?

  She’d suggested she fake a sickness to see if he’d be allowed to stay. Had she tried something that got out of control?

  She hadn’t faked coding.

  Her color improved as her blood pressure continued to rise. He breathed in her soft fragrance. She smelled… alive.

  Lifting her hand in his, he held her cool fingers, willing her to come back to him.

  Abbie woke up slowly in a queasy drugged state she couldn’t place the reason for feeling. Her chest ached as if someone had used her for a war drum. The inside of her mouth tasted like cardboard.

  She squinted against the light until her eyes focused.

  Hunter came into view. He held her hand sandwiched between his.

  Her heart wiggled in a happy dance until she took in the faraway look on his face. She wanted to hug him and wipe away the sadness curving his shoulders. Why did her mind pick this moment to throw up warnings? Hunter had questioned what she’d told him. He planned to hand her over to strangers.

  So why the downcast eyes? Was he putting on a show of concern for the medical staff?

  Wait. How could he be here, without any doctors or nurses?

  She mumbled, “Thought they wouldn’t let you stay.”

  Hunter’s eyes shot to her with a sudden flash of relief. “How you doing?” He leaned down and kissed her lips so sweetly she was in heaven, happy for those few seconds until he moved away to kiss her forehead.

  Tears welled up at his tenderness, but she would not show that weakness. Not to someone she shouldn’t trust as much as she did.

  When he lifted his head, he stared at her as if he couldn’t get enough in one look.

  She wanted to believe that, but…

  “I’m tired,” she said. “Don’t know why when I just woke up.” Her throat was dry. She coughed. “Can I have—”

  He was up grabbing a glass of water before she finished. “I’ll help you.” He raised the bed so she could sip.

  When she finished, he put the cup aside and sat down facing her, taking her hand again. Her heart fluttered blissfully at the contact, but she wasn’t going to rush down that road a second time and have a head-on collision with his distrust. “So how’d you get in here?”

  “I changed their minds, or rather you did.”

  “Me? What’d I do?”

  “You don’t remember your blood pressure dropping?”

  She lifted her hand and rubbed her head, reorienting herself. “I gave blood, then the nurse gave me crackers and juice… that’s all I remember.”

  Hunter studied her a minute. “I toured the facility with Dr. Hart, then went to dinner. By the time I finally got him to bring me back I convinced him to let me say hello to you. We were coming down the hall when the medical team rushed into your room.”

  “Why?”

  Hunter’s throat moved with a swallow. “Your blood pressure dropped until you flatlined.”

  Oh, shit. “You’re kidding.” She’d been touched at seeing the flash of worry in his face, but now his flinty eyes hardened.

  “No. I’m not kidding.” His gaze wavered with something dark and frightening when he spoke just above a whisper. “I’m getting you out of here. Now.”

  “No!” She started to talk, then glanced around, up at the ceiling, then at him.

  He nodded, catching her concern about being heard, and swung around beside her. She scooted over to make room. Before he sat back,
he lifted her into his arms, careful of the wire running to the machine.

  Her head spun at the change, but she gripped his muscled arms for stability. She wanted to sink into his warmth, to savor the way he held her close, but he’d set the rules for this engagement before they entered Kore.

  Hunter didn’t trust her. At all.

  She was determined to earn that trust, but carefully.

  Leaning toward him, she kept her voice down to shield what she said. “They haven’t run any tests on me yet so we still have time. You might be able to forget about what you need from Kore, but I’m not leaving until I have my mother’s records. We had an agreement.”

  He put his hand on the back of her head and held her closer, cheek to cheek. “Not if you’re in danger. I never meant for you to be harmed.”

  Warmth curled in her heart at that, but he hadn’t said he believed her innocent of any wrongdoing. He hadn’t said she mattered, only that he felt guilty over what happened to her.

  Suffering guilt did not equal caring for her.

  Or trusting her.

  Hunter wouldn’t intentionally hurt a woman, but he’d made it clear she was on her own once this was over. His tune hadn’t changed. She’d maintain a working relationship with him and ensure he followed through on his part. “This is our only chance at this database, so let’s stick to our deal.”

  He held her a minute, then sighed. “Let’s make this fast.”

  “How are we going to access their system?”

  “I saw how to do it after watching them work on you earlier. Before you almost… before they threw me out.”

  His hands had tightened on her waist when he’d said “work on you earlier.” She dug back into her memory and stalled again at the juice and crackers. Had something in the juice made her sick?

  Had someone tried to kill her? That scared her to her toes, but she was too close to leave without her mother’s information.

  “What about a computer?” she whispered, and inhaled the scent of warm male. She’d have known his scent if she was blindfolded and had to pick him out of a hundred men. If she closed her eyes she could shut out the world and still smell the lingering scent of their intimacy from this morning.

  She already missed that intimacy. How had things gone so incredibly bad in a few hours?

  “I’ve got a computer,” he whispered. “There’s a port next to your bed they used to access your files when you got sick. I haven’t found anything to indicate there’s a video feed from this room so if we keep our voices down we should be fine.” Lowering her gently to the pillow, he pulled out the black unit that looked like an iPhone.

  His thumbs moved as fast as a sewing machine needle running wide open, tapping the face of his gadget. From a pocket inside his suit, he produced a thin wire with an odd three-sided plug like some sort of universal attachment, which he used to connect his black electronic unit to the wall port.

  When he leaned down toward her face, she had the quick hope he was going to kiss her.

  But he moved his mouth to her ear. “I lifted the nurse’s entry code with this unit when she hooked up a mobile computer to access the database.” Pausing, he reached over to a unit that reminded her of the finger probe the medical staff used on her mother they had told Abbie was a pulse oximeter. Hunter explained, “When I put your finger in this sleeve, I’ll click an activation button on the program that tells this unit to take your fingerprint and prick the tip for a blood sample. I’ll use a different finger. Took like thirty seconds to get your records when she did it.”

  “Wow, that’s quick.”

  “Good thing, or—” His jaw flexed. He pressed his forehead softly against hers as if he needed a minute, then drew a deep breath and continued typing.

  She felt a tiny prick at the tip of her finger.

  He studied the small monitor, then said, “We’re in.”

  “Can you—”

  He nodded. “Your mom first. I have her name and social.”

  “How?”

  “Got it at the medical center today.”

  While she’d been wrapped up in family issues, Hunter had been doing his covert thing. But then he’d been trained by someone to do this kind of work. Snooping and suspicion was part of him, something he couldn’t turn off.

  He read silently, thumbing the display. His mouth pulled to one side in thought. “There’s nothing here but just what Kore told you originally. Standard testing, blood donations.” He looked at her. “No treatments.”

  “Can I see?” She expected him to deny her request based on their lack of time.

  He handed her his electronic unit. “It’s a touch screen.”

  Just when she was afraid he’d snuff out the smoldering embers of affection in her heart before this was over, he stoked the heat into a dancing flame again. “Thanks.”

  She fumbled with the touch screen at first, noticing how he patiently waited without trying to hurry her along. Didn’t take long to see that he’d told her the truth. She searched the file tabs and opened the one for family history.

  She found a subfile listed as Genetic Extensions and clicked on it, reading quickly. She stopped. “No way.”

  “What’s wrong?” He put his arm around her and leaned close. The motion was so filled with concern she forgave him some of the pain he’d caused her.

  “My biological father is listed,” she told him quietly.

  “You didn’t know who he was?”

  “No. And I didn’t know I had a brother either.” She glanced at Hunter, sure he saw the shock and disappointment she reeled from. Why hadn’t her mother mentioned an older brother?

  Hunter reached up and traced a finger along her face. “When your mother’s better she’ll explain.”

  Abbie nodded and forced the knot in her throat down so she could talk. “Her son, I mean my brother, has Mom’s same blood type, right down to being RH negative. Mine is RH positive. Dr. Tatum said if he could find a larger supply of blood than what Kore banked of my mother’s he could replace hers with clean blood over several treatments, but she might still need a liver transplant if we didn’t figure this out soon enough. Her son could be her savior.”

  But what about the other hundred questions to do with a brother Abbie had never known about? Had her mother given up that child? Had her mother seen her son since giving birth two years before Abbie was born? Had her biological father been so dangerous he wouldn’t allow his child’s own mother to see him?

  “Let me download all her files and you can read them at length later on,” Hunter suggested.

  Good Lord. She was wasting time. She handed him the computer and he did his magic finger act, tapping, waiting, tapping, then he was silent for several minutes.

  “Gwen’s condition is stable but not encouraging,” he murmured. “She had extensive surgery and is in ICU. Probably under heavy guard so no chance to talk to her.” He typed for another fifteen or so minutes, then shut down his unit and shoved it into an inside pocket on his suit jacket. He turned to disconnect the wire lead into the wall port beside her bed.

  Someone tapped at the door.

  She froze.

  Hunter shoved the wire on the bed next to her and swung around to sit facing her. He leaned down and kissed her so passionately she forgot her reservations and reached up to clasp his shoulders. His hands wrapped her waist, holding her in his power as much as his mouth did.

  Someone near the door cleared his throat.

  Hunter broke away, heat blazing through his gaze. “What?” He asked that as if the wrong answer would earn someone a beheading.

  “Just wanted to check on Ms. Blanton.”

  When Hunter shifted around, the man at the door said, “Hello, Abigail. I’m Dr. Hart.”

  She smiled politely, unsure what to say.

  “How are you feeling?” Dr. Hart asked.

  She’d been feeling no pain right before he interrupted that kiss. “Better, thank you.” They needed to get rid of this guy. “But I’m ve
ry tired.”

  “Get some rest. Please excuse me.” The doctor walked out.

  Abbie hissed, “Think he suspects anything?”

  “Maybe. Scoot over. I’m staying close enough to know if anyone breathes near you.” Hunter swung around again and scooped her into his lap, then pulled the cover up around her shoulders.

  He acted as if he’d fight the world for her.

  Thinking that way would leave her vulnerable to more heartache tomorrow if Hunter handed her over to his people. She had no reason to think he’d do otherwise.

  If he expected her to go willingly, he was wrong.

  She would fight anyone, including Hunter, who tried to stop her from finding her brother and convincing him to save their mother.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Sixty minutes to decide a person’s fate.

  Hunter had decided the fate of some in mere seconds, but those had been trying to kill him.

  Abbie just wanted to save her mother.

  He sat in an unusually comfortable side chair for a hospital environment, but Kore was first-rate.

  The bathroom door opened and Abbie emerged, freshly showered. She’d changed into another pair of jeans and a wheat-colored sweatshirt, looking a hell of a lot better at five in the morning than she had at nine o’clock last night.

  “You ready to go?” he asked.

  “Can I get out before seven? They told me that’s when they release patients in the morning.”

  “I called Dr. Hart and requested your release.” Hunter said requested as if it had been an order. “He’s on the way.”

  “Do we, uh, have everything?” She lifted her eyebrows and cut her eyes at the computer port.

  “Yes.” Of the patient files he’d downloaded last night, less than 1 percent were for males. He’d searched the files he downloaded while she slept and came up with a section entirely in code he would bet were the male patients, possibly the ten men bred to be killers. He did find a few male cases listed in family histories the way Abbie had located her brother, but in each of those cases the boys disappeared from family records within six months.