Gatlin reached over and touched the Bible. “You’re sure everything in here is true?”
“Yes. Because God says so.”
He squirmed closer to Briar’s side and rested his head against her shoulder. “My mom only has one body, now. The spirit one.”
“That’s right. The physical body was only a shell that held her spirit. Kind of like a seashell holds a crab. She doesn’t need that body anymore.”
He took a deep breath. His back trembled beneath Briar’s fingers, and then relaxed. “Seashells can’t feel anything.”
“Nope. They sure can’t,” she answered, silently thanking God for the relief in the little boy’s voice. His anguish was gone, at least for a moment. She wondered how long before the SAP rushing through his system would attack his Agathi like a swarm of hungry termites, gobbling up everything she’d taught him about God. Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arm around him.
A sudden, violent shake of the bed jolted startled cries from both of them.
“Roxy must’ve been feeling left out.” Briar laughed and petted the huge animal now sitting practically in her lap.
Gatlin giggled and stroked her fur. “I didn’t know she could jump way up here on the bed.”
The dog licked his face. Stopping abruptly, she stared at the door and gave a low growl.
Briar followed the dog’s gaze. The doorknob turned and in staggered Reid, still in her formalwear. Roxy stood up on the bed and fired off a series of fierce barks.
“Shut up, you stupid mongrel.” Reid glared at the dog and turned her gaze to Gatlin. “It’s late. What are you doing in here?”
Gatlin pulled Roxy back down to a sitting position.
Briar stroked the dog with one hand and inched the Bible beneath her thigh with the other.
Reid’s green eyes cut to Briar’s side. “What are you hiding?”
Briar once read a psychology article stating the best way to combat a robber or kidnapper was by using assertion. Aggression caught the offender unaware and muddled up his game plan. After the way Reid treated her at the festival, she had no problem pulling out some aggression. She straightened her spine.
“Last time I checked, this wasn’t a prison, it was a laboratory. My possessions are not your business.”
Reid snapped her gaze to Briar’s. “Is that so?”
“That is most definitely so.” Briar lifted her chin and forced her eyes to focus on Reid’s irises. She could’ve sworn they darkened two shades. Must’ve been the bloodshot whites making them appear darker—or the black hatred swirling inside.
“I’m making sure you aren’t exposing Gatlin to any hocus pocus. I’ll be sure to warn Caster about keeping a better eye on his child.”
Gatlin snatched the little lamb from the bed, holding it up. “Briar’s grandma made this for her before she died.”
The corner of Reid’s mouth quirked in silent ridicule. “It’s time to go.” She shot out a hand.
The little boy pressed against Briar’s side.
Reid snapped her red tipped fingers. “Now.”
Gatlin turned his face from Reid and pressed in harder, practically burrowing into Briar’s ribcage.
Reid’s hands balled into fists. Breath blasting through her nostrils, she stepped toward Gatlin.
Roxy growled a warning then jumped from the bed and snarled.
“You just bought yourself a one-way ticket to the dog pound, mutt.”
“Leave her alone!” Gatlin yelled, prompting Roxy to bark.
Reid stamped a foot in front of the dog. “Shut your fat muzzle,” she hissed.
Briar’s heartbeat picked up speed. Things were taking a bad turn. Roxy would protect Gatlin from mad-scientist, but who would protect Roxy?
She glanced around the room, searching for resources. The lamp on the nightstand? No. She wanted Reid out of her room, not dead. Her gaze landed on Gatlin’s rock. Reid was a giant in her own eyes, plus she was still wearing six-inch stilettos. That made this a David and Goliath situation—sort of.
Briar slid her hand slowly across the bed. Maybe if she tossed the stone instead of hurling it, Reid would snap out of it.
“There you are!” Lukas stepped through the doorway, puncturing the invisible, tension-loaded balloon that filled the space. “I’ve been looking everywhere.” He stepped up to Gatlin and ruffled his hair.
Relieved to see the person she never wanted to see again, Briar released a breath.
“And what’s with you, Roxy? I could hear you barking clear on the other side of the lab.” Lukas scratched the dog’s head. The dog wagged her tail as if also relieved.
“Hey, it’s time to get ready for bed.” He held out his hand and Gatlin took it, letting Lukas help him down from the mattress. “How about some ice cream before you turn in?”
“Chocolate with sprinkles!” Gatlin broke loose and ran from the room. He returned, leaned back into the doorway, and waved to Briar. “Bye.” He ran off again.
“Reid, it’s time to go,” Lukas said sternly, then followed after the boy.
Roxy continued to stand at Briar’s bed side facing Reid.
“I do hope your little Bible study lesson with Gatlin was worth it.”
Briar followed Reid’s gaze to the small book peeking from beneath her leg.
Roxy growled.
“Shut up, you mangy beast.”
15
“Where is my son?” Caster’s voice boomed through the laboratory, driving Lukas from his office.
“With Derby. They drove into town to get cleaning supplies.” Lukas glanced over his brother’s furrowed brow and clenched jaw. “What’s wrong?”
“Where is she?”
“Who? Reid?” Lukas struggled to pin down his brother’s wild gaze.
“You know very well, who I’m talking about. That lab experiment you have the audacity to call a human being.”
His brother was nearly foaming at the mouth.
“Caster. Calm down. What’s going on?” Lukas stepped around him, blocking his access to the hallway. He sent silent brain waves to Briar, willing her not to come around the corner.
“She brainwashed Gatlin! She has a Bible, Lukas. A Bible. I demand to check her room immediately.”
“Ridiculous. Where did you get your information?”
“Reid called, and I rushed home.”
Reid. Of course. She was the fuel behind Caster’s fire.
“You ‘rushed home’…from Atlanta?”
Caster narrowed his eyes. “She saw her with it last night. And Gatlin was right there in the room. She thinks Briar was actually reading it to him. Reading the Bible to my son!” Caster shoved an elbow into the wall, rattling the frame of a desert scene.
“Listen, Reid is upset with Briar because of something that happened last night at the gala following the Balloon festival. Something completely unrelated. Not to mention she’d consumed an overabundance of alcohol before she called you. She was trying to get back at Briar by riling you up. Why don’t you go home and sleep off the jet lag. I’ll have a talk with Reid—”
Caster stepped closer, standing toe to toe with Lukas.
Lukas held his brother’s angry gaze as hot breath assaulted his face. Had he eaten fire for breakfast?
“This is entirely your fault for continuing to put off what should have been done weeks ago. She’s contagious. She’s corrupting my son’s mind—filling it full of lies. I take that personally. Now let me through.” He bucked against Lukas’s chest, aiming his gaze down the hallway.
Lukas rocked back on his heels then replanted his feet. “Pull yourself together, Caster. What goes on in this lab doesn’t involve you. The process is in its final stages. I absolutely cannot let you interfere. You could ruin everything.”
“When my son is involved, I am involved!” Caster elbowed the wall again, harder, jarring the print from the drywall. He stomped on it, grinding the broken glass underfoot.
“Father commanded you, and now I’m commanding you. Inje
ct that diseased white mouse with your abstergent immediately, or I will.”
“Get out, Caster, before I call the police.”
“On what complaint? I haven’t done anything—yet.”
Lukas glanced down at the broken picture. “Destruction of property.”
Caster smirked. “You’d do that, wouldn’t you? Jeopardize mother’s political career by having me arrested. Pathetic. You care more about that Bible-smuggling nobody than your own family.” He shook his head. “You won’t be seeing Gatlin anymore. He deserves better.” He turned from Lukas and left the way he’d come in.
Lukas closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. His muscles shook, and his lungs burned as if he’d run a marathon.
He couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing his nephew. Ever since Gatlin’s mother died, he’d felt a special bond with the child. At Kate’s memorial service, Gatlin cried, and he’d held him. He’d held Caster, too.
His heart still ached for his brother, as it had then. His wife left him, and then died, casting him into a bottomless pit of irresolution. Caster was overflowing—spewing over—with unresolved grief and anger. Lukas had no problem being the object of his brother’s rage, if it kept someone else from being targeted.
He glanced down the hallway, relieved Briar had kept her distance.
~*~
Lukas wondered if Briar had glued her mouth shut. It was the only explanation he could come up with, as to how she’d endured an hour and a half of testing without so much as a word. Even more astonishing, were her vital signs—cool, calm, and collected—despite the fact Reid was the one taking them. Last night, she’d been furious. Had she really forgiven Reid so quickly for her inexcusable behavior at the ball?
He glanced at Reid, fingertips of one hand pressed to her temple as she scribbled down data with the other. Perhaps Briar found Reid’s obvious hangover to be punishment enough.
Lukas was suffering, too. Not from the aftermaths of alcohol, but from Briar’s disappointment in him. Could he venture to hope she’d forgiven him as well? If so, her ability to dissolve hard feelings far surpassed the capabilities of his abstergent.
“Am I free to go?” Briar asked, revealing no emotional clues.
“Yes.” He offered what he hoped was a polite smile. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
Briar left the room and shut the door.
Lukas turned his gaze from the closed door to Reid, wishing he would have asked Briar if he could borrow some of that glue. Not for himself, but for Reid. She wouldn’t like what he had to say, and he had a strong notion she wouldn’t be quiet about it.
“What did you say to my brother?”
Reid finished filling in the remaining blanks on Briar’s chart and returned the clipboard to its slot on the wall. She stepped closer to him. “Is this about the Bible?”
Her admittance caught him off guard. He was convinced she would deny the whole thing—loudly.
“I did what I felt was right. I told Gatlin’s father that Briar was reading to him out of the Bible.”
“What you thought was right?” Lukas laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. You make it sound as if you have a conscience. As if you have a sense of right and wrong.”
“Who are you to belittle me? We are all level, remember? Well, all of us who count, anyway.” She tossed an irritated glance to the door. “I answer to my own integrity. And I couldn’t stand by and let her brainwash Gatlin. What if some of that garbage lodged in his brain? Do you realize how dangerous that could be for him? Yes, I have a conscience, and I could not live with that hanging over my head. I happen to love that little boy. Believe it or not, I am capable of love.”
“I’m not convinced Briar was reading Gatlin the Bible, but even if she was, none of it would stick. Gatlin received a booster three days ago. The SAP in his system would take care of it.”
“You can’t be certain of that. Not at his age, and with this potential level of exposure to Briar’s Godspeak. What if some of her mumbo-jumbo did seep through? It will be six months before Gatlin can receive another SAP booster. You know how kids are—what if he starts blurting Bible stories in public?” She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you, Lukas. I really can’t. You know better than anyone how flawed SAP is. Isn’t that the whole reason you developed your precious abstergent? The hold that unlevel has on you is ridiculous.”
Lukas was losing focus. What was the matter with him? Had he really allowed his nephew to be placed in harm’s way? Maybe it was time to test his own Agathi—see if the SAP was still doing its job. He took a deep breath, letting it out as he sat on the edge of the exam table. It was his turn to rub his temples.
Reid moved behind him, placing a hand on each of his shoulders. “I realize I tend to come across…abruptly. But I only want what’s best for the program.” She slowly massaged his muscles, easing the tension from his shoulders and neck. “And what’s best for you.” She spoke low, close to his ear, causing a shiver to rush down his spine. Good shiver or bad, he didn’t know.
But he knew one thing—his head was clouded. And he’d better get it cleared out fast, or find another test subject.
~*~
Lukas frowned at his vibrating cuffphone. He tapped the ignore key and watched his father’s image disappear, postponing the inevitable for the third time that day.
He flinched at a knock on the door.
“Just a moment.”
He stepped through his office with the feeling Reid would be on the other side. Uneasiness crept through him. Somehow, she’d gotten the wrong idea about their relationship—if it could be called that. He didn’t look forward to setting her straight, but it must be done. He squared his shoulders, cleared his throat, and opened the door.
“Hi.” Briar held up her hand in a little wave. “Can I talk to you?”
“Yes, of course. Come in.” He stepped to the side, giving her room to enter. “Please, sit down.”
“Thanks.” She sat in the chair he indicated and leaned forward, placing her hands on her knees.
“What can I do for you, Miss Lee?”
Miss Lee? He wanted to smack himself in the forehead. He’d done it again—spoken as if she was beneath him. Why did he have to come across so arrogant? It happened whenever he was the least bit nervous or uncomfortable. High and mighty seemed to be his default.
He lowered into the chair next to hers. Cringing inside, he checked her expression. No visible signs of agitation. Maybe she hadn’t noticed.
“I realize I stepped over the line. You won’t understand this, but it’s like the urge to tell the truth is trapped inside my bones, like Jeremiah.”
Lukas creased his brow. “Jeremiah?”
“From the Bible.” She waved a hand in front of her. “It sounds insane. But just because something sounds foolish doesn’t mean it’s not true. The Bible says the message of the Cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to those who are being saved it is the power of God.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. “Somewhere in First Corinthians, I think.”
He nodded slowly. She was so expressive, so animated. She’d definitely changed her mind about the silent treatment. Her demeanor from this morning until now was like night and day. He wanted to ask what changed, what had suddenly gotten into her, but he needed to carefully choose his words. He didn’t want to shut her down now that she was actually speaking to him. He had no idea what she was saying, but he was enjoying the show.
“Sharing my faith with Gatlin last night reminded me of how precious that faith is. I was getting used to the idea of being without it. Warming up to the thought of being like everybody else—looking forward to it, actually. But now…”
Her eyes were glistening. Should he go to his desk and offer her a tissue, or would that embarrass her?
A tear spilled down her cheek. She stood and retrieved the box from his desktop, pulling two tissues from the slot. “Now I feel that I will lose myself. My purpose. My essence.” She blotted her eyes. “I wanted
to talk to you about it this morning, but I wasn’t comfortable spilling my soul all over the place in front of Reid.” She blew her nose. “So…that’s how I feel. I thought you might want to know—for your research. I’m sorry if I’ve caused problems between you and Caster. I’ll really miss seeing Gatlin.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Lukas shifted in his chair. She’d admitted to everything. She’d shared her faith with his six-year-old nephew. She had a Bible in her room. He knew what he had to do. He would stand to his feet, walk Briar to her room, and make her hand over the Bible. He would tell her she was correct to assume she would never see Gatlin again.
He drew a deep breath and stood. “Thank you for sharing. Your visit has been very—enlightening.” He held out his hand and she passed him the tissue box, stuffing the used ones in the pocket of her scrubs.
She rose. “I appreciate you listening. I realize blurting my guts out like that didn’t do anything—except confirm your suspicions that I’m thoroughly insane.” She circled her index finger around her ear twice. “But somehow I feel better.”
“I’m glad.” He offered a tight smile. “And I think you’re right, my documenting your emotions for posterity is an excellent idea. I’ll include what you’ve shared with the rest of our research.”
“Good.” She patted her heart. “I won’t remember what it feels like—this war raging inside. But others will read about it and know it existed. Documenting the conflict makes it real.”
He opened the door. “Rest well.”
“I’ll try.”
He closed the door behind her then turned, pressing his back against it. Just like that, he’d let her get away with it.
Briar wasn’t insane. He was.
~*~
Briar picked up Gatlin’s stone from the nightstand and caressed it. Honey-brown, like Lukas’s eyes.
She wasn’t exactly sure why she’d told him everything. Documentation for his research was part of the reason. But only a small part. Mainly it was because God wanted her to share her feelings with Lukas. God had talked to her all day, it seemed. His voice was a pleasant distraction, enabling her to withstand the morning testing session with ease—even with Reid at the helm.
The Commandment Page 13
