Linc passed her without answering, slipping on a pair of latex gloves he’d grabbed on the way inside. “Follow me.”
Zena heeded his request, following him into the massive industrial room that was teeming with high-tech, stainless steel machines.
When they turned a corner, Linc heard her small gasp at the sight that met them.
Dozens of steel shelves, piled ten stacks high, reached all the way up to the neck-breaking ceiling of the cold, dark room. Each stainless steel shelf housed a black rubber body bag with full-length zippers that ran straight down the middle.
Linc looked over his shoulder just in time to see Zena stop dead in her tracks with horror in her eyes. He lifted a gloved hand and waggled two fingers toward himself, motioning for her to follow.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Swallowing heavily, Zena stumbled forward, her saucer-wide eyes blinking rapidly, shoulders squared.
Linc stopped at a steel table in the middle of the long line of stacks, where a body bag also lay. He waited for Zena to come up next to him, her grip on her backpack so strong now she seemed moments from ripping it apart.
He looked at her and waited for her eyes to meet his before he took the zipper of the bag and ripped it open.
Zena’s teeth began to chatter, and he knew it wasn’t from the cold. No, they chattered thanks to the mental battle he knew she was having. The same battle any normal person had—with the exception of Zhang—whenever they were forced to be in this room. He could see her silently begging herself not to look down.
He also knew it was a losing battle. He knew the part of the human spirit that lived in everyone, the part that would always be secretly fascinated by death, would win over.
And it did. Zena’s eyes fell to the bag he’d just unzipped, to the serene face of a young Asian girl, so beautiful that, if they weren’t in that room, most would guess she was in the middle of an afternoon nap.
Zena sucked in a breath and cringed, slamming her eyes closed with a rapid shake of her head.
“No. Look.” Linc took her arm and guided her over to the next table, where he unzipped that bag, as well, with one hand. “Look.”
Once again, curiosity won over, and Zena peeked one eye open, drinking in the face of the girl under the next body bag. This girl hadn’t gotten off as easily as the last one. Face so marred she was nearly unrecognizable.
This time, Zena didn’t recoil but seemed to lean in, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she whispered. “Who is she?”
“Nobody knows,” Linc said, stepping back, lifting both pointer fingers in the air, motioning to the dozens of stacks that lined the walls. “These are all the bodies we can’t identify.” He pointed at the floor. “And this wing? This is the wing that houses the underage girls.” He motioned to her. “Girls just like you.”
If Zena was listening, she didn’t show it, eyes still glued to the girl on the table. Her gaze softened with every second they ran over the girl’s pale face until Linc worried she was mere seconds from reaching out and stroking her cheek without gloves on.
“And you know what else?” Linc asked, his boots stomping against the floors as he re-approached her. He studied her profile—because she still couldn’t tear her eyes away from the body—as he unzipped the bag even more, revealing the entire corpse. The ashen white skin, the pale nipples, the bruises, and the scarring. He took hold of the lifeless arm and turned the body, showing Zena the tattoo on the back of the girl’s shoulder.
That caused her to step back, her mouth falling wide open.
Linc raised his eyebrows, pointing at the blackbird tattoo. “Look familiar?”
Zena’s eyes filled with tears as she stared at the tattoo, but they didn’t fall down her cheeks.
“It should.” Linc grinned. “Same one they just got finished branding you with, right?”
Her tears continued their fight to fall but still didn’t. Maybe, because the room was so cold, the tears were freezing before they had a chance to escape.
“And she’s not the only one,” Linc said. “Dozens of other girls in this room, brutalized, murdered, thrown away like trash… all have this same blackbird tattoo. Do you think you’ll be the exception? You won’t.”
“Stop it,” she begged.
“It’s not gonna stop, Zena. Not until someone stands up. Are you gonna stand up…” He motioned to the body bags. “Or is this gonna be you next time?”
“Stop it!”
Linc didn’t stop, he pressed, laying the body back down and zipping the bag closed before facing her once more, pointing to it as he stepped closer to her, voice rising. “Are you next, Zena?”
She released her hold on her backpack and clapped both hands over her face, catching the soft wail that left her lips. The strap of the pink bag slipped down her arm and tried to fall to the ground, but it got caught in the crook of her elbow, swinging through the nippy air.
He zeroed in on her, fog leaving his lips—chapped and constricted from the cold—as he hissed, “Zena, I swear I’ll protect you. But, like I’ve said a million times… I can’t do it if you won’t talk to me.”
The fingers she had covering her face went to claws. For a moment, he worried she might drag her nails straight down her skin, but instead, her hands shot down to her sides, causing the backpack to slip from her arm and fall to the floor.
She tightened her fingers into fists. “Gideon.”
Linc stepped forward on a careful foot, trying hard to keep his reaction under control. “Gideon?”
Zena closed her eyes. This time, a tear did escape, racing down her cheek as she licked her lips with a slow shake of her head. “The guy who was driving. They called him Gideon.”
“They who?” Linc pressed, pulling his phone from his pocket. When she didn’t respond, he jumped right to the next question, taking advantage of what he knew could be a very small window of divulgence. “Where was Gideon taking you?”
But Zena had already disappeared into another place, her eyes moving over his shoulder, back to the body bag. To the dead girl with the same tattoo seared into her shoulder as Zena had seared into hers. The dead girl who, to the naked eye, looked fast asleep. Serene. Peaceful.
A girl who’s true story lay deep inside her ghostly skin, under her frozen ribcage, where there lived a heart that no longer beat.
And as Zena began to tremble, indicating her heartbeat had picked up, she found herself lost for words.
So when she lifted her tear-filled eyes to Linc and managed to find the words, “I don’t want to die,” it was all she could manage to say, over and over, lips curled down. “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.”
Linc approached her and took the back of her head in his hand, pulling her weeping face into his chest, letting her cry her eyes out as his own green orbs slammed closed.
He’d taken a huge risk bringing her there.
But just like most huge risks, the reward had been well worth it.
Because now he had a name.
Gideon.
And he was officially one step closer to finding the man who’d helped traffic Zena—the man who’d snatched Veda—and crushing his fucking skull.
——
Minutes later, Linc guided Zena up the stairs and out of the morgue with a hand on the small of her back. A shot of guilt raced through him when he felt how hard she was shaking, but the relief he felt overwhelmed it, never so anxious to get down to the station to follow up on a lead in his life.
Upstairs, standing next to a steel table with a fresh cadaver before him, Martin looked toward the door as Linc and Zena exited. He made a face at Linc.
Pretending not to see it, Linc patted Zena’s back. “Go and wait for me on the other side of the room, please.”
Zena looked over her shoulder and up at Linc, her eyes wide and anxious.
“Five minutes,” Linc promised when he saw the fear that was still ripe in her eyes. Perhaps he’d taken things a bit to
o far by bringing her there, but the word desperate didn’t even begin to cover his state of mind. Every day that passed with Veda’s attacker not being found was another day that his desperation grew ten times stronger than the last. If his lieutenant found out what he’d done that day, no question, it would mean his job. But something told him that Zena wouldn’t put him on the spot like that. She wanted to be free just as much as he wanted to avenge Veda’s attacker. In a strange way, they were on the same page. Linc motioned across the room. “Stay where I can see you…”
Zena nodded softly and began to make her way across the room and out of earshot of Linc and Martin. She peeked over her shoulder the whole way as if she was worried Linc might disappear into thin air.
Linc looked back to Martin once she was across the room. “I need one more favor—”
“You can’t be serious.” Martin didn’t even let him finish.
Moving his eyes to Zena, Linc pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket and held it up before reclaiming Martin’s gaze. A grape Blow Pop sat inside the bag, bits of the plastic glued to the sticky ball.
“I need you to run this against the nails we found at the cliffs,” Linc said.
“Why would that be a favor? The Chopper’s case is still open and so is Jax Murphy’s. Do you have the paperwork?”
“No, because I need it done under the table.”
Martin guffawed, looking away from Linc while covering his mouth with his hand.
“And I need you to bring the results straight to me,” Linc added as if Martin hadn’t just gotten finished laughing in his face.
“What’s in it for me?”
“What’s in it for you is that I won’t let our lovely lieutenant know just how many favors I’ve done for you under the table.”
Martin lifted his chin high as his mind began to race over what an extensive list that was. “Fine.”
Linc exhaled, trying to keep it in his chest, but it still made his nostrils flare as he slapped the baggy against Martin’s stomach.
Martin grunted at the blow, taking the bag. “But one day you’re not going to be allowed to use all those old favors against me anymore.”
“That day isn’t today.” Linc clapped a hand on his shoulder before looking at Zena. “You ready for class?”
She came to her toes the moment their eyes met, giving Linc a silent nod. Her eyes grew even bigger than they were by nature as they lifted higher and higher as he approached. She let them fall when he smiled at her, a blush climbing to her cheeks as he led her out of the building.
19
“Okay, Ms. Green, everything checks out.” Veda flipped off the blindingly bright LED lamp and bent the metal neck so it sat higher above the hospital bed. She used the steel bed rail to push away from the edge, lifting her feet from the floor to allow her rolling stool to wheel her across the room, snapping off her latex gloves. “Blood pressure looks good, vitals are exactly where they should be. Looks like your surgery tomorrow afternoon is a go.”
Stopping her stool at the computer next to the bed, Veda began filling out the form that cleared Ms. Green for surgery, the keyboard clicking under her damask print nails. She met Ms. Green’s eyes while still typing. “Don’t forget… you need to start fasting about six hours before surgery. No food six hours out, and no fluids three hours out. You can have a small drink to help take the medication I’m prescribing if needed, but only water and only a small drop.”
Ms. Green nodded, making her gray curls shake, eyes lighting up. “Thank you so much, doctor. You’ve made this all so much easier. You’re so patient! I’m a lot less nervous after you talked me through it.”
“Nothing to be nervous about. You’re going to do great.” Veda stood and guided Ms. Green down from the white bed linens, keeping a hand on her back as they walked across the linoleum floors to the door of the room. “Dr. Britler’s performed this procedure a million times. He could do it with his eyes closed. It’ll be over before you know it.”
After reassuring Veda that she remembered the way out, Ms. Green gave her a quick hug and said goodbye before disappearing out of the exam room and around the corner. With a sigh, Veda made her way back to the computer and plopped down on the stool to finish up the last of her paperwork. She wasn’t set to see her next patient for another hour, so she was able to take her time.
“Never seen a patient so excited about rectal surgery.”
Veda swung around in her chair at the deep, familiar voice. The voice that always seemed to sink into her skin and take over her body in seconds—even more so now that she wasn’t able to hear it every day.
Even though she’d been expecting to find him in the doorway, her breath still caught at the sight of Gage leaning on the doorframe. As always, the navy suit he wore hugged his every muscular curve like it had been built for him. He’d finished the suit with a white pocket square and brown leather shoes that he had crossed at the ankle. His full lips were upturned into the smile that he only seemed to give her, and his eyes shone across the room, nearly blinding her in their luminance. His hair feathered down just as perfectly as always, Veda noticed, as she let her eyes run his body, over and over, always searching desperately for any flaw. Flaws that she knew wouldn’t be there, no matter how hard she looked.
She stood from her seat, releasing the breath she’d been holding while running the palms of her fingers down the pants of her blue scrubs.
He blinked softly. “Hey.”
She tried to smile, but her body wouldn’t let her. “No need to check up on me this time. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re on the first floor. No staircases.”
He didn’t laugh at her joke. Pushing off the doorframe, he entered the room on a slow foot, took the door in his hand, and swung it closed.
It clicked gently shut, but to Veda, it sounded like an explosion. Her body screamed for escape, but her limbs wouldn’t move.
Gage paused, legs splayed, and sank both hands in his pockets. “I wanted you to be the first to know.”
Her eyes expanded at his tone. “The first to know what?”
He looked toward the only window in the room, where the setting sun had turned the horizon orange in the distance. “I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?”
“My father’s finally given in and granted me a position at Blackwater Cruises.” He reclaimed her eyes with a soft chuckle. “Vice President of Guest Services. Can you believe it?”
Veda was sure her heart had crashed to the floor at her feet and shattered into a million deadly shards. Shards so sharp she was sure, if she accidentally stepped on any of them, they would cut her sneakers open and split her skin like glass.
“You’re really leaving?” She was shocked when tears filled her eyes.
He must’ve seen it happen because something in his brown orbs shifted. He nodded.
She tried to speak, but the lump in her throat stole the words. Then, finally, she managed, “When?”
“Two weeks from now.”
“Two weeks?” She cried, teeth bared as she took a big step toward him. Something in her body snapped when she did, making her stumble over her feet, stopping her from proceeding any further. “You’re leaving in two weeks and… and it only occurred to you to tell me now?”
His eyebrows jumped. “I’m telling you before anyone else.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Honestly, I had no idea you’d care this much.” He smiled. “On the way down here, I actually imagined this whole conversation going a lot differently. I imagined any object in this room that wasn’t bolted down might come flying at my head.”
Veda rolled her eyes with a small smile, but then the words he’d just blasted her with ran through her mind again, and the smile petered away.
“I was wrong,” she said. “The way I’ve been treating you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I was wrong on all of it, Gage. I’ve been…so selfish these last few weeks. I’ve been so unfair to you.” She motioned to him, a
nd that small action caused him to step forward, toward her outstretched hand. When she let her hand fall back to her side, however, he slowed. “I’ve treated you terribly.”
After a pause, he began toward her again—his head tilted softly to the side. “You aren’t selfish. That voicemail… that was terrible. I don’t blame you for not wanting to see me. I wouldn’t have wanted to see me either. Those hateful words… it was the last thing you needed to hear after everything you went through.”
“But you went through a lot too. You lost something too. You were probably in shock too. And you’ve been all alone.” She shook her head, her voice breaking as it rose with her emotion.
He picked up his pace to move closer to her, faster, and in seconds they were both drawing in deep breaths as he cupped her jaw in his hands.
She took his jaw too, in one hand, gripping his waist with the other—both alarmed and comforted at how perfectly every part of their bodies seemed to click together. How easily. Like two pieces of a puzzle that they’d been trying to jam into spaces they didn’t belong before finally finding the one and only space that would ever be right.
She squeezed, making sinkholes in his cheeks. “How are you?”
His brows jumped in question, eyes searching hers.
Her gaze fell to his lips. “I should’ve asked you a lot sooner. I’m so sorry that I didn’t.”
He studied her lips, removing one hand from her cheek to run his knuckles down her heaving stomach. “I’m a lot better now.”
Understanding, she released her death grip on his cheek, replacing it with a much gentler stroke. The hand she had on his waist ran his body up and down, trickling over the hard muscles hiding under the fabric of his shirt.
His eyes softened. “How are you—?”
“I’m fine,” she interjected.
He wasn’t convinced, and it showed, but still his eyes fluttered closed. He laid his forehead against hers.
Veda closed her eyes as well, unable to stop herself from sinking into the beautiful world she always did whenever he was this near. Whenever she found herself on the receiving end of his delicious, debilitating scent. The warmth of his breath on her lips. The mint in his mouth floated in, making her nostrils flare for more of the pleasant aroma.
Pulse (Revenge Book 5) Page 17
