But these articles were enough to make Matisse’s guilt disappear. Vengeance wasn’t a strong enough word for what he wanted. The connection between the doctor’s past articles and the behavior of the study participants had a clear relationship. Victimology? Brainwashing? Nora’s silence and introspection after each test.
Without thinking, he let out a noise between a growl and a moan. What were they doing to her? What had they already done to her that he didn’t know about?
Can’t breathe. He threw open the window, and pushed out the screen to crash to the ground. The cool air whipped his hair back from his face, cooling him and raising goosebumps along his skin. He sucked in lungfuls of air, closed his eyes and concentrated on not flying apart.
With air rapidly cooling his room, he was finally able to take a deep breath. When he returned to his laptop, he immediately went balls-to-the-wall hacker.
His email had been opened, and the attachment—idiot—as well. From there, he navigated easily. None of his documents were password protected, but if they had been, they wouldn’t have kept Matisse out. The documents were organized by year then broken down into study subjects. Using the approximate date Nora joined, he found copies of her records. Next, he found copies of her signature pages, and at the bottom, the cc’d addresses.
Department of Defense. Peretti, Grant
Peretti. He was the asshat who took Nora on the ride through the city. The ride that made her think they were going to run over pedestrians and left her with bruises across her still-healing wounds.
Each subject had a series of files within files. In Nora’s file, there were documents related to her interviews and testing—her background, tests given, results—but what really scared him was the section titled: “Next Steps.”
There it was, laid out in black-and-white. The plan to break Nora down, to crush her until Dr. Murray and his cohorts could mold her into the type of person they wanted.
Isolate. Humiliate. Accuse. Attack.
“Subject response to unpredictable event included elevated pulse, negotiation, and commands. Next Step—humiliate.”
One of the testing dates corresponded to her birthday. He remembered that day. Cai and Seok had taken her hiking, and the doctor had called her to demand she return to the lab for an interview with someone. A few paragraphs down was a description of the interview, and he had to stop. Nausea stopped being a threat and became a reality.
Dashing to the bathroom, he barely made it to the toilet before his coffee burned his esophagus. Over and over he gagged until there was nothing left in his stomach. Still, he continued to heave. Panting, he fell back, and landed hard on his ass. The words would be burned into his memory for all time, their emotionless tone left to echo in his head.
Subject isolated in locked room. Lights extinguished. Subject requested to be let out of room. Examiners observed behavior from remote location. Subject observed to cry and call out for help. At Subject’s collapse, Examiner entered room, intentionally causing minor injury to Subject. Discomfort maximized with temperature, location, and examiner/subject seating. Subject introduced to polygraph machine. Examiner engaged in a discussion of non-emotional materials including dates of parents’ marriage. Examiner attacked Subject re: relationship before leaving lab. Next step: isolate.
26
Nora
Cai’s distraction led him to lose three games of Uno in a row, and eventually Nora had mercy on him and let him quit. They waited impatiently for the doctor to arrive, but lunch came and went, and the hours ticked by.
Resting her cheek on her hand, Nora alternatively stared out the window and checked on Cai. Their silence was comfortable, though each time she caught his eyes, he would smile tightly.
“Take a nap,” she whispered when she noticed his eyelids drooping. “I’ll wake you up when the doctor comes.”
“What will you do?”
When he didn’t argue, she smiled. “I brought a book. Another Apollo read.” Inside her backpack, she found the book she’d most recently borrowed and held it up. Cai squinted, leaning forward to read the title before he rested back.
“Looks like a good one.”
Apollo had introduced her to sports biographies. “It is,” she said, and paused significantly.
“Fine,” he said, giving in. “You’ll wake me?”
“Promise.”
With a long sigh, he shifted on the bed to find a comfortable position. Nora reached for his hand to squeeze it in hers. He tightened his fingers around hers, tucked it close to his chest and, within moments, was asleep.
For a long while, she stayed in that position, but with her arm extended, hand starting to sweat in Cai’s, she had to disentangled herself. A final squeeze and she took her hand back.
The hospital air conditioning clicked on, blowing a cool breeze over her neck and across Cai. She’d been visiting enough to know where the extra blankets were, and she got one for him and another to cover her shoulders like a shawl.
When Cai was moved from the ICU to this wing of the hospital, they’d exchanged one uncomfortable set of chairs for another. Nora seated herself there now. With her legs folded beneath her and the blanket wrapped over her shoulders and knees, she settled in. But she couldn’t concentrate. The book, which had held her attention, fell to her lap each time someone walked by the room or she heard a door closing.
She was as anxious for Cai to come home as anyone. He’d been away from home too long, and she wasn’t the only one who needed him. Tyler needed him. The kids at the youth center—though supported by the other social workers—trusted him implicitly.
Nora stared out the window, thinking about Tyler. A big part of her carried guilt for his breakdown. When she’d first met him, he’d been so outgoing. One of the many things she’d liked about the young man was the way he challenged her. Nora, who’d volunteered at the center, made excuses for the situation she was in. Her life had been hard. She’d had to struggle to find jobs and make money.
Should I just give up like you? Tyler had asked.
His words had struck her dumb. Somewhere along the path her life had taken, she’d turned into a Debbie Downer, an Eeyore. It wasn’t a purposeful decision. She’d done what she thought he intended—she went for what she wanted.
Early Tyler never would have attacked her, at least not physically. With sarcasm and snark, yes.
So what had happened to him? A break in the clouds sent a shaft of sunlight streaming through the window, and she stood, moving closer to lean against the wall and stare out at the scenery. Not far away, the stones of Converse Hall gleamed black, saturated with rain from the downpour.
She drummed her fingers, eyes going automatically to the top floor and the window she’d seen Tilly Mason fall from. Why had she jumped? Between Tyler and Tilly, God, and even Reed, everyone she knew who’d participated in Dr. Murray’s study seemed to have lost their minds.
Holy shit.
Like a bright, flashing light, a link appeared between each of the young adults who’d overtaken her thoughts. She’d been so stupid—so incredibly stupid. The guys were right.
All of those things Dr. Murray and his study did that needled her and chipped away at her fledgling confidence had to somehow be related to the others. Something was rotten in Denmark.
As if her thoughts summoned him, her cell phone chirped from her backpack. The sound caused a rush of anxiety to flood her system. It continued to ring before chiming a voicemail. There was no way, after realizing she should have been listening to her instincts all along, she was going to respond to Dr. Murray’s summons.
This was bad, but it could be worse. At least now she had a job, and while the relationship between her and the guys was new, she didn’t doubt the commitment they felt for her. Matisse and Ryan had shared their pasts with her and told her their worries. Even Cai, who she knew was bothered by something he wasn’t yet ready to share, implored her to be patient with him and trust him.
Her decision not to cont
inue with the study would affect all of them. It would mean debt and payment plans, but there was nothing for it. This was a connection she’d be stupid to ignore.
Cai’s doctor arrived not long after he woke up. Thank God. Because Cai was crawling out of his skin.
With his bag packed and ready, he paced the room. The door was open and periodically he poked his head out, only to have the nurses call to him, “We paged him! Be patient!”
He mumbled under his breath, but waved at them, before calling out, “Hey!”
“Hey!” Matisse’s voice filtered into the room. Footsteps hurried down the hall. “Hey. You were right. Holy fuck, Cai. You were—” Barreling into the room, he stopped short when he saw her. His pale skin was flushed. Sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his temples.
Cai had gone white, and he stepped backward to crash into the bed.
“What happened?” she asked, voice high and scared. “Cai. Sit down. You look like you’re going to pass out.”
He didn’t argue and sat. “Matisse…” Flicking a glance at Nora, he trailed off.
A groan of frustration built in her chest, but she stifled it. “I’m going to step out. You guys talk.”
Both guys must have been off-balance, because they didn’t try to argue or hide their relief. “Okay,” Matisse answered. “Just give us a few.”
After dropping a kiss on Cai’s cheek, she nodded. Matisse kept his eyes on her, tracking her as she came to him. His face was shiny with sweat, and she pulled her sleeve over her hand and swiped it over his forehead. “I’m going to walk around. I’ll be back soon.”
“D’accord,” he answered as she headed to the door. Quick as a flash, he grabbed her hand, tugged her back to him and kissed her. His tongue swept past her lips, tangling with hers in a bruising kiss that left her knees weak. “Thank you, cher.”
It was hard to smile, but she managed it. They’d tell her soon enough.
27
Matisse
Nora’s footsteps clicked down the hall, becoming more distant. Worried she might overhear what he had to say, Matisse stuck his head out the door to make sure she was gone.
“What did you find?” Cai asked, pinning him with a worried stare.
“You were right.” He still couldn’t believe everything he’d found. He’d spent the entire afternoon combing through the doctor’s reports, studies, and contracts. “Tyler was systematically broken down, test-by-test, interview-by-interview, until he doubted everything, and mistrusted everyone.”
“Go on,” Cai urged through clenched teeth.
“Daniel Murray works for the university and for the Department of Defense. This study isn’t only academic; it has a practical implication. Dr. Murray’s team is attempting to transform personalities—”
“What does that mean?” Cai asked.
“It’s related to so many things,” Matisse said. “There’s shit in there I should never have seen. If they can transform a person, for example a terrorist, into a loyal American, think of the implications? What if they could make a person withstand interrogations or torture? Do you see what I’m saying?”
His friend’s face went from white to red, but as he opened his mouth to reply, the doctor walked through the door. “Cai Josephs! Ready to go home?”
Eyes remaining on Matisse, it took Cai a moment to reply. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yes.”
“Then let’s get you cleared.”
The doctor’s timing was awful. Matisse needed to confide in Cai. He could barely process what he’d read and had stumbled from the house to the hospital completely unaware of his surroundings. He’d made it here, the words ready to burst out of him. From the look on Cai’s face, the wait had been painful for him as well.
“All right,” the doctor finished. “Here are your discharge papers and your prescription, and you’re set.” The bespectacled man smiled widely at Cai, who shook his hand.
“Thank you,” Cai said as an afterthought. The door swung shut behind the doctor, and he lasered in on Matisse. “Talk quick. What does this mean for Nora?”
“They were—are—attempting to do the same thing to her. Cai, they are beating her down. Isolate. Humiliate. Attack. Accuse. That’s their system. He’s published article after article about brainwashing. He’s a fucking expert.”
Swallowing thickly, Cai tried to respond but couldn’t. He shook his head. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he ground his teeth together. “Brainwashing. This is what they did to Tyler?”
Matisse couldn’t imagine what Cai was thinking at this moment. He’d made a commitment to the kids at the youth center going beyond work hours. Patiently, he’d worked to earn the trust of each and every child in his care.
“We have to tell her. Tell the others—” Cai started when a knock on the door stopped whatever it was he was about to say. He opened it to reveal Nora, hands clasped in front of her.
“Do you need more time?” she asked.
“No.” Cai’s voice was rough, and like Matisse had earlier, he swept her into his arms and kissed her. Matisse understood what he was going through; he’d felt the same way. They’d dodged a bullet. How many years would it have taken Dr. Murray to drive Nora mad the way he had with the others?
The man was evil. No matter what his reasons for his study—protecting America, rehabilitating terrorists—there was no excuse for what he wanted to do to Nora.
His conscience didn’t bother him in the least for hacking the study. In fact, he hadn’t hesitated to save the information he found. Dr. Murray needed to answer for what he’d done.
“We can go home now.” Cai’s voice interrupted the turn his thoughts had taken, and he glanced at Nora in time to see a wide, happy smile graced her face.
“Finally!” she crowed and pulled away from his friend in order to do a little dance in the doorway.
It felt phony to smile, but Matisse forced it to his lips. Sometimes, he’d learned, he should smile to put other people at ease, not necessarily because he was genuinely happy. He didn’t want Nora to see how worked up he was or ruin what was a joyful moment for her. They’d all worried about Cai, but she’d been a constant presence at the hospital—staying over more nights than any of them, learning the nurses’ names and their schedules. Cai’s health and recovery took her focus and energy.
“I’m going to text the guys—we’ll have dinner. Are you hungry?” Words and ideas tripped one after the other off her tongue. Her hair flew across her face as she examined the room. “Where the heck is my coat?” she mumbled.
“Here.” Matisse tugged the jacket from the chair and shook it out.
“Thanks.”
He held it up, waiting for her to put her arms in before he settled it around her shoulders. When she turned, he zipped it up to her chin and pulled her forward to rest his forehead against hers. “You’re welcome.”
In her pocket, her phone chimed. She took it out, frowning when she read the text. “Dr. Murray wants me to come to the lab.” She typed something and shoved it back into her pocket. “Not today.”
Cai narrowed his eyes at Matisse. Danger. His friend was barely holding it together. Still healing, whatever patience he usually had was gone.
“That’s good,” Matisse cut in quickly and hoped Cai understood what he was doing. “Having a night together. Getting Cai settled in.” He texted the other guys to them know they were headed back. Apollo responded first, texting right away he wanted to pick them up. “Apollo’s on his way.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Nora wrap her arms around Cai. She rested her cheek against his chest and squeezed him tightly before stepping away. “There’s not much to pack,” she said, fisting her hands on her hips and examining the room. Her phone vibrated, and she jumped but didn’t take it from her coat. Matisse wanted to know what Dr. Murray was demanding of her. Their plan had been to isolate her. What would that look like? Was it starting now?
Fear welled up inside him. The doctor wanted to take Nora away from
them. Matisse had read Dr. Murray’s past research summaries. Alone, she’d be vulnerable to their suggestions about her worth.
It struck him suddenly how alone Nora had been before Ryan brought her home. On the surface, she seemed like the perfect subject—no family, ostracized by the community. Reed had a girlfriend, and Tilly had come from, on the surface at least, a stable home. Then there was Tyler. He had Cai and the entire youth center staff to back him up.
How much longer would it have taken for the doctor to break Nora?
His fear had him reaching to gather her into his arms. The persistent vibration of her phone zinged his hip, and without hesitation, he reached into her pocket for it, stared at the screen a split second then shut it off.
“We’ll call him later,” he said to her.
To his surprise, she didn’t argue. Nor did she ask for her phone back but simply nodded and hugged him more tightly.
“If we don’t hurry, Apollo’s going to be stuck going around and around the traffic circle,” she said after a moment.
“I’m ready,” Cai said as he swung his bag onto his back.
A slim brown hand slid the strap off his shoulder. “I got this.” Nora backed away when he attempted to take it from her. “Please.”
Huffing a sigh, Cai gestured for her to lead the way, and she flashed a smug grin across the room to Matisse. Over her shoulder, she threw a grin back to where Cai waited. “Sneaky,” Cai said, and kissed her head as she edged by.
Following closely behind her, Matisse caught the look she flashed Cai—one of utter devotion and love. But the thing that really made his heart seize in his chest was that when she peered over her shoulder at him, it was still there. What would happen after she learned what he’d done?
Finding Truth (The Searchers Book 3) Page 14
