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Rogue Alliance

Page 26

by Michelle Bellon


  “My god, it’s you,” she said, “she’s spoken of you so many times. I…don’t know how she will tolerate this. Maybe I should have you wait until tomorrow when her doctor can be here.”

  Brennan shook his head.

  “No,” he said, “I can’t wait until tomorrow.”

  The nurse procrastinated and pondered over the predicament for a few minutes before she finally agreed to let them back.

  “Okay, but I’m going to have to be there to monitor her. We don’t know what this could do to her.”

  “How is she? I mean, how lucid is she?”

  “Oh, quite lucid most of the time. In fact, she will go for a long time in a completely normal, aware state and we’ll begin to think she’s finally ready to move out of here and to a halfway house. But then, without warning, she’ll go catatonic on us and she’ll be gone for three or four days.

  “But she’s been stable for weeks now. I think it would be okay for you to see her.”

  Brennan followed her along the west wing and was grateful that she had not pressed for more information. She seemed to sense that it was more complicated than either of them cared to get into. He didn’t know that his step had faltered until Shyla’s hand slipped into his. Looking down at her, she was strong and brave and everything that he needed her to be. He gave her hand a small squeeze and stepped into the room.

  It was a small room with a single bed. The curtains were open to the rainy day and the walls were decorated with hundreds of photos. What captured Brennan’s attention was the small, meek woman who sat in a rocking chair just to the side of the bed and stared longingly out the window.

  A thousand memories rushed to the forefront of his mind. It was a whirlwind of flashbacks so vivid and fresh that it nearly took him to his knees. This petite, lonely woman had been such a source of love and joy in his past. It was so confusing, so frustrating, that he had been robbed of her and those memories for so long.

  Clamping down on those feelings and the pain that was squeezing the breath from his chest, he focused only on the present. Watching from the doorway, he waited until the nurse had approached her.

  “Clara, there is someone here to see you,” she said, “are you up for company?”

  “Company?” Clara looked up into the nurse’s face. Brennan saw a very wise but broken spirit in his mother’s eyes. Then as if sensing his presence, she looked past the nurse and focused on him. The recognition was immediate but the acceptance was slow, careful, and so very fragile, as if she dared to hope, worried the vision in front of her might slip away. He could read it so clearly on her face and feel it so strongly in his own heart.

  “Brian,” she said in a whisper. It wasn’t a question. She said it with confidence and a deep knowing, “Brian,” she said again and slowly stood up.

  He walked towards her and her lip began to tremble. When he reached out to her, she nearly ran into his arms. Afraid to hurt her, he refrained from squeezing too hard, but she was holding onto him as if her life depended on it. He could feel her body shake as she wept in his arms. When he felt the first salty tear run down his own cheek, he finally felt freed from the past ten years. He hadn’t known before, how restrained, how enslaved he had felt even after his escape. Not until he held onto the woman who had raised him for those first sixteen.

  It wasn’t until later that he realized they were alone. Shyla and the nurse had left them to reunite in privacy.

  FIFTY-TWO

  It was ten o’clock at night when they finally left the clinic. Shyla had kept herself busy by walking the well manicured grounds. Though it was drizzling steadily, she enjoyed the quiet gardens. Later, under the sanctuary of a gazebo she made a phone call to Shawn. After he gave her the status update on Carmen’s search, she told him of the altercation she’d had in the parking lot of Dirty Dave’s.

  “What in the hell, Shyla, why are you just now reporting this? You should have called us last night so we could have hauled him into the station right away.”

  “I know,” she sighed, “but I was drunk and in no state to go through the rigorous protocol that would have ensued. Besides, Brennan had me out of there so fast, I didn’t know what had happened until it was over.”

  There was a vast silence on the other end of the line. Shyla knew that Shawn was trying to decide how to process her involvement with Brennan.

  “Where are you now?” he asked.

  “I uh…got a lead from a friend down in LA. I’m checking into it. I’ll be home first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Her lie hung between them on the line. She hated to betray him, especially after the friendship that they had been developing over the past few weeks, but he would have never understood the complex relationship that was building between her and Brennan.

  She prodded him with a few more questions about Carmen’s case and got off the phone. The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent in the commons of the clinic, watching television with two of the other residents; one elderly woman who constantly mumbled under her breath something about squirrels, and a thirty-something woman who spoke only in questions. Shyla found their presence comforting and non-threatening. They didn’t expect anything from her and they didn’t know anything about her past.

  Visiting hours ended at eight, but the staff was more than understanding and didn’t bother Brennan or Clara. When he finally joined her in the commons area, she was glad to see him, realizing that she had been worried about him.

  “She drifted off a little while ago,” he said, “before she went to sleep, I told her we’d drop by in the morning before we headed home. You ready to go?”

  “And miss out on the rest of the Nick at Night marathon?”

  He gave a tired chuckle.

  “I guess I can leave you here then,” he said, “you blend right in with the rest of the residents anyway.”

  “Uh, oh,” Shyla laughed, “you’ve been hanging out with me too long. Watch out, sarcasm is contagious.”

  She stood up and plucked the keys from his grip.

  “I’ll drive. You’re tired.”

  “I’m okay,” he said, following her down the hall and out the front door.

  “No you’re not,” Shyla snickered, “you look pale and wiped out. It’s been a long day, you haven’t eaten since around noon, you’ve been on an emotional roller-coaster, and it’s late. I took the liberty to book us a room at an Inn down the road and I’ve got a roast beef sandwich with your name on it in the car.”

  She paused before opening the driver side door.

  “When do you need your next supplement?”

  Brennan shook his head and looked out into the dark parking lot then back at her. “Thanks, Shyla.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t sure if you liked roast beef but I figured you weren’t the picky type.”

  “That’s not what I meant. I’m grateful for that too, but I’m talking about everything else- for coming, for understanding, for being you.”

  “You really aren’t feeling well,” she said waving him off and sliding into the car.

  Later that night, when they were in the Inn, she watched quietly as he slid the needle into his vein and started his infusion. She sensed that he was uncomfortable, so she retreated to the bathroom to wash up and slip into yoga pants and a t-shirt.

  When she emerged, he was finished and his equipment was cleaned up. They were both exhausted. She climbed into the queen bed that was next to the window while he took his turn in the bathroom.

  Steam rolled out when he stepped into the room. He was wearing only a pair of sweats. She watched his agile form move as he flicked off all lights except the one next to her bedside. Instead of going to his own bed, he walked to the other side of hers and slipped under the covers.

  “I reserved a room with two beds for a reason,” she said, rolling towards him.

  Leaning up on one elbow, his bare chest still hot from the shower, he reached out and caressed her brow, then ran his finger down the side of her cheek.
/>   “We’ve had a long day, a long week, a long life,” he said, “I don’t think either of us want to sleep alone tonight. I won’t do anything that you don’t want me to, Shyla. I just want to hold on to someone as I go to sleep.”

  The thought of being so close to him, sleeping with him, made her heart quicken. “Someone, huh?” She teased, grasping for one last attempt at humor because she was quickly loosing her footing as he caressed her skin.

  He gave a tired smile.

  “Not just someone. You.”

  The way he was looking into her rather than at her, made her feel vulnerable. “Fine,” she said turning away and reaching for the light, “but I hope you don’t snore, or else I’ll put a pillow over your face.”

  Before she could flip the switch on her lamp, he softly grabbed her arm and turned her back toward him.

  “Don’t turn it off,” he said, “not yet. I want to look at you.”

  No wise cracks came to mind. No curt dismissals or funny quips were at the tip of her tongue. She was speechless as his soft green gaze roamed over her face. When he reached around and gently tugged her hair tie loose, she let him. She felt the weight of her hair as it fell around her face but her eyes never left his. She’d never imagined that she would feel so amazing in the presence of a man, so alive and sensual, yet so safe.

  Unable to resist, she mimicked his movements and reached up to touch his face. His jaw was rough with fresh stubble and his skin was still warm from the shower.

  She thought that he might kiss her but he didn’t. Instead, he reached across her and turned off the light before pulling her tight against his chest. He held her snug and she felt his muscles slowly relax and his breath grow shallow. She wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or frustrated. Now that he was asleep, she realized how much she had wanted him to kiss her.

  Her thoughts were scattered and her body was still responding to his, but there he was, sleeping. Ugh, she wanted to slap him. But he had been right; they had both had a long week. It took close to thirty minutes, but she finally felt herself given in to the fatigue and the comfort of his embrace.

  She was disorientateded when she opened her eyes and didn’t recognize where she was right away. It was dark and she was in unfamiliar territory. Brennan’s arms pulled her close.

  “Shh, its okay. You’re okay,” he whispered.

  She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Two-seventeen in the morning. Still a long time before dawn.

  “You were having a bad dream,” he said.

  “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

  “No. I’ve been awake for awhile.”

  She turned toward him. There was a sobering intensity to his tone and a tension in his body that alerted her.

  “Is it your mother?” she asked, “are you worried about her?”

  Brennan was on his back staring up at the dark ceiling.

  “No. I mean, yes,” he sighed, “I am worried about her, but that’s not why I can’t sleep. I…”

  Shyla held her breath as she waited for him to finish his sentence.

  “I’m dying Shyla.”

  Her heart stopped beating.

  “What?” she said in a breathless gasp.

  “I’m dying. I only have maybe four to six months left to live.”

  He said it with such calm, such conviction. She wondered why he wasn’t screaming at the top of his lungs like she wanted to do. Shyla sat up and stared down at him in the dark.

  “No. Don’t say that, Brennan. It’s not funny.”

  He turned toward her and she could barely make out the soft look in his eyes.

  “It’s the truth. One of the men who were behind the scenes at the institute called me a while back and told me that they not only modified my body to rely on blood infusions, but to rely on their specific cocktail of infusions. Apparently, my body requires a special protein in order to synthesize the infusions or else I begin to…well, to die.”

  She knew he was speaking the truth. Hadn’t she seen it in the way he seemed so tired, so worn out? Chalking it up to stress, she’d ignored it, but now she couldn’t deny the truth.

  “No, no, no,” she was shaking her head. It was the only thing she could do. There was no way to process or accept the horror of what she was hearing. How could this be happening to her? First Carmen, now Brennan. How could they leave her?

  “We can get help. There are doctors who can fix this.”

  “I can’t go looking for help, Shyla. If anyone found out who I am, what I am, they would lock me up forever. I’d be another guinea pig, in another hospital. I can’t do that.”

  “But you have to,” Shyla said, desperate, “you just found your mother. It would kill her if you left again. And I…I…I can’t…”

  She couldn’t go on. She bent down and pressed her cheek to his chest, giving into the tears. Brennan wrapped his arms around her and held on while she let it all go.

  When her crying ebbed, there was still so much emotion, but no words which would fill the void. She moved over him and brushed her lips over his. They were soft and ready for her. He opened his mouth and lightly explored hers with slow, luscious flicks of his tongue. A flush rushed over her skin. Everything came alive inside of her body all at once.

  “I want you, Brennan. I want you to touch me and don’t stop touching me until I say stop.”

  In one swift move, Brennan ran his strong hands into her hair, cupped her head and rolled her to her back. He was over her, plundering her mouth with a kiss so hungry that she almost feared he would devour her. She kept up with his avarice and met him with equal passion, wrapping her legs around his waist and bringing him as tight against her as possible.

  He kissed her face, her neck, and down to her breasts. She pulled her shirt over her head and let him feast on her body, delighting in the new sensations.

  “I’ve wanted you from the very beginning Shyla. It nearly drove me crazy to think of you with Victor.”

  “Shh,” she said, grasping his head and forcing him to look her in the eyes, “I’m right here, right now. That’s all that matters.”

  “I can’t wait anymore,” he said. His voice was raspy with passion.

  She reached down and pulled off her sweats and panties.

  “I don’t want you to wait.”

  He sat back on his heels while she pulled off her remaining clothes. She lay there naked before him, waiting. He looked her up and down and she didn’t feel dirty. She felt beautiful. Although he had said he couldn’t wait, he took his time. First, he kissed her bare ankles and, torturously slowly, trailed his way up her thighs. Her muscles quivered under the texture of his soft, pliant lips. As he teased her with his tongue, she wanted to scream and beg for release as the tension within her built to levels she had never before experienced.

  “Please, Brennan,” she pleaded, but he didn’t stop. He kept loving her body until finally her muscles quaked and shivered in its climactic release. Before her body recovered he lifted himself up over her and looked into her face. Completely undone, she lifted her chin and met his gaze. She knew he was waiting for her to invite him in. With a lift of her hips, she brought him with her over the next wave.

  FIFTY-THREE

  On the long drive home, she let him do most of the talking. Since he first saw his mother, the memories of his past which had been locked away for so many years where coming forth so fast that he could hardly keep up. She listened knowing that the best way for him to process the onslaught of information was to talk it out.

  It was tough to stay focused. Though she was interested in hearing about his past, especially since they were new even to him, she couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. What did all of it mean?

  She’d never felt like this about a man before and now that she did, it felt like he was already slipping away. She couldn’t handle that. She had to find Carmen and wasn’t about to let go of the idea of finding a doctor who could help Brennan; she had to find help for him and she had to hang on to
them both. Victor was no longer a priority. He was on the backburner until she could get a grip on the rest of those loose ends.

  There were so many ingenious physicians in Los Angeles. She didn’t know them personally, but she knew exactly who would. Quentin Solero. He would not only know exactly who she could turn to, but he would be able to ensure confidentiality as well. She was as concerned about Brennan’s privacy and safety as he was.

  “Where are you right now?” Brennan’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  She shook her head and reined in her wandering internal dialogue.

  “Oh, nowhere. So, how did your mom take it when you said goodbye this morning?”

  He kept his gaze on the road.

  “She cried,” he said, “but I promised her that I’d be back as soon as I could. It was the only way that she would let me go.”

  “You lied to her?”

  He gave her a look that said she should be ashamed of herself for thinking such a thing. It worked.

  “No, I didn’t lie to her. I am going to go back for her. I just have to take care of a few things first. I’m not going to leave her there.”

  “Well, it’s not like you can take her to live with you in your little apartment above Victor’s shop,” she said.

  “That’s why I said that I have to take care of some things first.”

  “Ugh,” Shyla sighed in exasperation, “it’s like pulling teeth to get you to elaborate sometimes.”

  Brennan flashed a winning smile.

  “You’re cute when you’re annoyed. Look, I’m not exactly sure how all this is going to pan out, but my plan is to get her out of that place within the next two weeks. I’m not sure where she and I will go, but it really doesn’t even matter. If I’ve only got a few months, then I’m going to spend it with her. She deserves that. I deserve that.”

  It felt like Shyla’s heart had plummeted to her stomach.

  “So that’s it, you’re just going to take off? What about Victor?”

  What about me? She wanted to say.

  “What about him?” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll tell him about my condition and he’s going to have to understand. My perspective and my priorities have changed. If he can’t accept that, then that’s his problem. I can’t live for him anymore. I can’t live for anyone else anymore. I’ve got to live my own life.”

 

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