The Implosion

by Debra Kayn

  "They trust you." He softened his voice. "You grew up around here and understand what the locals are going through. That's why the club respects your opinion on any changes we make in Avery Falls."

  "It's. Not. My. Job."

  J.J. was the spokeswoman between the club and the locals. They depended on her.

  The club also recognized that they'd have to make her happy to keep her in Avery Falls. It used to be that letting her hang around the club, party with the members, and free reign to have sex with the bikers was enough to keep her happy.

  He could see that had changed.

  "I'll deal with it." He stuck his hands in his vest pockets. "Next week, the club will be back. Things will return to normal."

  He couldn't promise Avery Falls would ever go back to how it was, but he hoped in a few days he'd have enough men who could hold it together to deal with a few hours of business without raising suspicions about their behavior. It all depended on if the remaining members gave them problems and created more of a mess.

  By this time next week, there could be nothing left of Avery Falls.

  Hell, he could be carted away in a cop car on his way to a prison cell. Not only for the crimes he'd committed but for kidnapping Grace.

  Twenty minutes later, he had taken out the money owed to the employees of the store. He walked out with the rest of the profits. He'd need to deal with the gas station next. No doubt, they were in the same position. The rest of the businesses were either shut down or put in "help yourself" status for the tourists.

  When all was said and done, and the club was back in a position of running things, they'd need to recoup their losses. He couldn't guarantee the boats, bikes, ATVs, and rental equipment would be there next season.

  It would be a small price to pay for surviving something none of them were trained for or saw coming.

  All of them were programmed to believe they'd cease to exist after the switch. The drugs provided by the project blocked them from fearing their own demise.

  But, the project stopped poisoning their bodies with drugs. They stopped training them. They disappeared overnight as if they had never existed.

  He would've believed the Alpha Bio Project had imploded from the center. The controller and handlers buried deep under the mountain, leaving the participants to suffer through the switch alone. But Four had made it out of the cave.

  Grace's story about someone contacting her, using his name, suggested someone else wanted to play mind games with him.

  There was a high possibility the controller and handlers weren't in the cave during the explosion.

  With the return of his memories, he believed those in control of the project wanted to destroy any evidence of what they were doing in the cave.

  They couldn't have enhanced killers running amok, telling wild stories that would trace back to an organization that developed enhanced human beings.

  He looked behind him, straining to hear any noise alerting him to danger. Besides the extra noise of boisterous campers lingering around the sites, kids riding bicycles on the trail along the river where they typically weren't allowed, and the excess traffic on the road, everything appeared like a normal Thursday during the peak of the summer season.

  Getting on his Harley, he started the engine, toed the kickstand, and rolled out of the RV Park. Once he finished with the gas station, he could go home to Grace.

  She expected answers when he got home. He understood she needed more information to keep her here, and her feelings were compromised because of the dangers she was in.

  He also realized Trip had informed Bonnie about his enhancements, and they'd worked everything out. The information had stayed between the two of them, and Bonnie hadn't sought anyone's opinion outside her relationship.

  Afraid Grace wouldn't be as accepting, considering how she was put in his life for a reason even he failed to understand. He couldn't expect her to fall into his arms when she learned the truth.

  To keep the truth from her was for her own good.

  And for his.

  His ability to handle the current situation without turning to drugs depended on her. He wasn't ashamed of admitting his weaknesses. The cravings were always there. They'd never leave. It was who he was and would always be.

  Grace wasn't like him. She was sunshine and pure.

  What he had to confess could only be done in small steps. Otherwise, she'd leave him.

  Fuck knew, in his life, he would never deserve her.

  But there was something there, hovering in the air between them, that even he couldn't understand. Someone else had a hand in their meeting, and only one organization knew him better than he knew himself.

  To think that the Alpha Bio Project had a way to get to Grace struck fear in his heart. No one. Nobody was going to get their hands on her.

  A street bike zoomed past him on the main road. He tensed, recognizing Prez.

  Keenan sped forward, passing a chain of ATV riders, and turned left, following Prez. Opening the throttle, he caught up with Prez as he braked hard in front of the gate leading to the clubhouse.

  He had his kickstand down as soon as he stopped and jumped off his bike. Keenan shut off the Harley. "Hey, hey, hey."

  Prez kept walking, ignoring him.

  Grabbing Prez, he slid between him and the gate. "You're not supposed to be out of the boathouse."

  "I need to be with the men." Prez pushed him out of the way, took his key out, and unlocked the gate. "In or out?"

  "Fuck." He stepped inside the yard and waited for Prez to lock them on club property. "How are you feeling?"

  "How the fuck do you think I feel?" Prez strode forward.

  "You remember...?"

  Prez jumped up the steps and stopped at the door. "Forget it. Forget it all. It's the only way we're all going to survive, and I'm going to make sure every fucking member does the same thing. I will not let the Alpha Bio Project destroy everything I've built with Avery Falls Motorcycle Club. Got it?"

  He dipped his chin and stepped back. His care of Prez was over. He had his president back and someone else to watch over the men.

  Prez kept his gaze, understanding passing between them, as he opened the door. Keenan stayed behind long after the door closed. He sat down on the top step and gazed out at the town over the secure fence line.

  He inhaled deeply, taken by surprise at how Prez rebounded after the switch.

  He suspected he'd never hear what Prez learned about his past. The future was the club. The brotherhood.

  His past was dead.

  Chapter Twenty Six

  Grace sat in front of Keenan with her back against his chest in the backyard. She tried to get up several times to see his face, but he'd tighten his arms and hold her tighter.

  Ever since he came home, he'd acted strangely. Unable to sit still, he wandered the house, frequently stopping in front of her before becoming agitated.

  When she'd asked him what was wrong, he only shook his head. Eventually, he took her outside.

  She thought he was going to exercise in the pole building, like usual. But they hadn't made it inside yet. He'd planted his butt in the grass and pulled her down to sit with him.

  His behavior was starting to scare her.

  The more unsettled she felt, the more she wanted to go home. She was good at running away from her problems. It was easier than facing them.

  That's why being a photographer fit her lifestyle. Every job was unique and involved traveling to different locations. So as soon as she got too close to someone or felt off or bored, she could pack her things and leave.

  Her stomach fluttered. It was hard being pulled in two different directions. One minute she wanted to go home, and in the next minute, she wanted to stay with Keenan—but have control of her life back.

  A million times a day, she called herself all kinds of a fool for believing their relationship would work out. Nothing about it was right.

  She couldn't even imagine a future with him if her
sister wasn't in her life. Someday, being separated from her family would come between her and Keenan.

  Wanting him was breaking her heart.

  She couldn't understand her feelings and why she was attracted to him. Why would she have empathy for him? Why would her body crave him physically? Why was she drawn to him?

  He lifted her and grabbed her hand. Without shoes on, she hurried alongside him to the pole building. She was past the point of getting him to talk and having him hold her, pull her, silence her. Everything he'd done rubbed her the wrong way.

  Inside the building, she shook off his hand and stepped away from him. "I want to stay in the house while you work out."

  Distance would do them both a world of good. If she hung around, watching him lift weights and doing what he enjoyed, she'd only grow angrier.

  "I want you to run." He pointed across the expanse of the building. "To the back wall and back."

  She shook her head. He'd lost his freaking mind.

  "Come on." He put one foot in front of the other and pointed toward the floor. "I'm going to race you. We'll start here and run the length of the room."

  "I don't want to race." She crossed her arms. "I'm not in the mood to run. I'll never be in the mood to run. All I want to do is sit down with you and talk."

  "I will talk." He met her gaze. "After you run with me."

  She looked away from him, trying to find the patience to deal with him. "Fine."

  He motioned her to come next to him. "Run as fast as you can."

  "I haven't run since I was in high school."

  "Last year?"

  "Funny." She sighed. "I'm twenty-six years old if you're guessing."

  "Well, I've got sixteen years and a hundred pounds on you. You should kick my ass." He cocked his brow. "Ready?"

  She groaned, hating that she could fall for him when he teased her. "Whatever."

  "Set." He paused. "Go."

  She jogged, feeling him beside her. Already her feet hurt, pounding on the hardwood of the floor. He stayed with her. Because he'd already irritated her, she dug in and went faster.

  Keenan matched her step for step. Glancing at him, she pumped her arms and gave it all she had. Halfway to the wall, and every time she sped up, he had, too.

  She held her hands up and bounced off the wall, changing direction. A flashback of gym class when she had to do fitness tests boosted her. She ran as fast as she could, unable to shake him. Halfway back to the starting line, she sucked air into her lungs, and Keenan shot ahead of her. Furious, she ignored her bare feet, her boobs hurting with each bounce, and gave it her all.

  Keenan reached the other wall before her and kept going. He ran past her with little effort. She stopped, bending at the waist and bracing her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

  She saw no purpose in running. Keenan could exercise if he wanted.

  Straightening, she looked at him, running full out and reaching her again before turning and going another turn. She leaned against the wall. He had a beautiful body. Spectacular for a man in his forties. With his new haircut and trimmed beard, she would've looked twice and drooled if she would've met him in a club or at the beach.

  He headed toward her. Thinking he was going to stop, she stepped forward. But, he turned and kept running.

  The speed at which he moved seemed faster. She studied his legs and arms. They worked in perfect harmony like a well-oiled machine. Caught staring at him, she blinked when he completed two more laps inside the building.

  He was getting a little ridiculous now. He was fast. He won.

  When he showed no signs of stopping, she stood at the wall and watched. He caught her gaze before he turned.

  She started counting, timing how long it took him to get from one end to the other. Then, started over, knowing it was impossible to make it in three seconds.

  Wiping the perspiration off her forehead, she frowned. Keenan hadn't broken a sweat. His face wasn't flushed, and he kept going faster and faster.

  She stood, perplexed at his ability to run that distance and at that speed.

  Keenan came to an abrupt halt in front of her. He picked up her hand and placed it on his chest. She looked up at him, not understanding what he wanted her to do.

  "Do you feel my heartbeat?" he asked.

  She moved closer, leaving her hand on him. It took her a moment, but then she felt the soft thump, thump. She jerked her hand back and then placed it again on his chest, higher than the first time. That couldn't be right.

  "Why is your heart rate so slow?" She patted the front of him in several places and frowned. "You're not even sweating."

  He turned her around. "I want you to stay here for just a minute. I'm going to step outside. After the door shuts, I want you to whisper something to me."

  "Whisper what?"

  "Anything you want." He backed toward the door.

  "Wait." She stepped toward him. "You're not going to lock me in here, are you?"

  "Nah. I'll come right back in as soon as you whisper something." He hesitated. "Okay?"

  "I don't know why you're doing this. You won't be able to hear me." She rubbed her lips together. "I don't like this."

  "Just humor me."

  Keenan stepped outside. She blew out her breath, expecting him to come right back inside. It wasn't like he could hear when she whispered while he was out of the building.

  Seconds ticked by. She rubbed her arms, not liking that he'd left her inside alone. It was worse than being in the house when he dealt with club business.

  Scanning the room, she zeroed in on the guns attached to the wall. Keenan had never left her alone in the pole building before.

  "I could shoot my way out," she muttered to herself. "I just want to go home."

  The door opened, and Keenan came back inside. Instead of approaching her, he stayed in the doorframe.

  "Can we go back inside the house now?" she asked. "I don't want to do this anymore."

  "I heard you." His eye twitched. "You could shoot your way out and just want to go home."

  A shock went down her spine. "You couldn't've heard me."

  "I can hear what most people can't. A whisper in a crowd or from far away." He held her gaze. "I can run faster than other men without my breathing changing or my heart rate accelerating."

  He wasn't bragging. She'd seen him.

  "Those weights I lift are impossible for others to pick off the ground."

  Her stomach rolled as if she'd vomit. "What are you telling me?"

  "I was a participant in a project where they trained, drugged, and used mind-control to create enhanced killers. They taught me how to kill. In the process, I lost my emotions and all memories of my past. I lived each day to serve and train others. They—"

  "No." She paced back and forth in front of him. "That kind of thing doesn't happen."

  "It happened."

  She shook her head. "You make it sound like you were a lab rat."

  He was making everything up. How many times had she seen him workout in the pole building? He was fit, strong, and took care of his body. He consumed the right food, never snacked, and had probably done that all his life.

  Whereas she hadn't. She loved coffee and junk food. Fried foods and French fries. While she'd rarely had problems with her weight thanks to genetics, she hated exercise of all kinds.

  He shrugged. "When you found me at the cabin, I'd been switched."

  Switched? She pressed her hand to her forehead. It was hard to follow what he was telling her.

  "Hadn't you ever wondered why I was at the cabin alone? Naked?"

  "Because..." Her head pounded. "I don't know. I thought you were camping. I figured you were a nudist or being one with nature. Who knows what went through my head. I was scared to death because you'd kidnapped me."

  "After eighteen years in the project, I found myself in the cabin without anything. I had no idea how I got there. It was my first time without being under the care of the project. I withdr
ew from the drugs they had me on, regained my memories back, and survived on my own. I'd been there almost a year, hiding out from everyone, when you stumbled upon the cabin."

  "But you told me you're stronger—"

  "I'm enhanced. Not only physically but my senses. I can see in the dark, smell aromas others can't, and hear everything. Even without the drugs. That part of me is not going away."

  "Oh, my God." She walked away from him, needing to absorb everything he was telling her. "Was it some kind of medical lab that was doing that to you? Were they studying you?"

  He shook his head. "They were creating sleepers. Killers they could activate and use whenever they wanted."

  She blew out her breath. This was too much. If Keenan weren't so damn serious, she'd think he was trying to pull a fast one on her.

  He lived in a mountain town. There weren't any hospitals around.

  But, she'd seen the oddities. The way he could physically do things without any effort. Even while having sex, he was never out of breath and could go all night long.

  He'd heard her whisper. That was a superhuman ability only seen in movies.

  She swung around and faced him. "That man that attacked me?"

  "He was enhanced, but the training failed to make him obedient. He never lost his memories or emotions, and that made him dangerous. He wouldn't have succeeded in the program. He wasn't even supposed to be out of his cell."

  "Cell? Like a prison?" She refused to listen to him anymore. Already the story verged on unbelievable. "I need time to—"

  "We'll go in the house."

  The danger of being outside never entered her mind until Keenan locked the door, and she was safely in the house. His wild story distracted her from what was really going on. She failed to connect the dots with all the information he'd handed her tonight. His claim to be part of a project that altered regular men into unemotional killers seemed farfetched compared to her arriving in Avery Falls under a pretense of photographing a rare sighting of a fisher.

  He rubbed her back. "Let's go to bed."

  She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. "I think I'm going to sleep by myself and try to wrap my head around everything."