Conflicted (The Corded Saga Book 3)

by Alyssa Rose Ivy

  Home. This cropping of run-down buildings and a lab in the middle of the desert were the only home these kids had ever had. There was no way we could leave them here.

  “Okay. All you need to know is we are here to help you,” Addison explained. “We want to make sure you are safe and cared for.”

  “And what makes you think you are qualified to do that?” A male voice called from behind us.

  We all spun around as Denver walked into the door. He was dressed head to toe in white with the tell-tale insignia of Central.

  “Denver?” Addison gasped.

  He frowned. “No. You have me confused with someone else.”

  “That’s impossible.” Addison shook her head. “Denver, it’s me. Addison.” She put her hands to her chest. “Did you hit your head or… did someone do something to you?”

  He shook his head. “Your name means nothing to me. Why are you here?”

  “Denver?” Addison narrowed her eyes.

  “Are you hard of hearing?” Denver asked.

  “Oh.” Realization sunk in. “You’re not Denver, are you?”

  “Were you listening to a word I said?” He rubbed his forehead.

  The door opened again. “Addison?” Denver—dressed in the clothes he’d been wearing when he left us walked in.

  “Wait.” Benji’s eyes widened as he took in the two identical looking men. “More clones?”

  “Which one is the clone?” Benji looked between Denver and his exact duplicate.

  “We both are,” Denver answered. His eyes locked on Addison, something unspoken was being communicated between the two.

  “How many of you are there?” Thomas looked back and forth between them. “And are there more kids? What kind of numbers are we talking about?”

  The Denver duplicate waved his hands. “No need to get worked up. Being a clone doesn’t make someone inherently dangerous. But there are many of us. There are many of all the top leadership.”

  “That’s one way to solve the reproductive problem,” Thomas mumbled.

  “Not a long-term one.” Denver crossed the room and took Addison’s hand in his. “Not a real one.”

  Addison looked at their joined hands for a moment then ran straight into his chest. He appeared startled for a moment before he wrapped his arms around her.

  “Where are the others you came over the wall with?” I didn’t want to know they were gone, but I had to. No matter how used to death we got, everyone needed to be counted.

  Denver wrinkled his brow. “I sent the survivors back. We were ambushed. I would have come back myself, but I wasn’t sure if we’d ever have a chance to make it this far again. I needed to search for answers.”

  “No one came back.” Addison lifted her head from Denver’s chest. She was barely talking. Not Addison like at all. At least not the new Addison. The free Addison. I’d only done what I’d thought I’d had to at the club, but I’d never get over the guilt.

  Denver ran his fingers up and down her back in an absent-minded sort of way. As if it was a habit he wasn’t fully aware of. “Hopefully they found a new home then.”

  “You know they’re dead.” Addison stepped away from Denver. “No use pretending.”

  “No use deciding something if you don’t know all the answers.” Denver studied her face as if trying to figure out a puzzle. “I’ve seen horrible things, Addison. Ones I will not even burden you with, but that doesn’t mean all hope is lost.”

  “What have you been doing here?” I asked the other clone before Addison and Denver could break into a fight over the best way to view the world.

  “Making and raising clones. Hoping they might be the answer. So far no clones have been able to reproduce, but that might change.”

  “You can’t repopulate through clones. Surely one day they will accept that.” Denver sighed. “It is getting tiresome explaining it over and over again.”

  “If it’s the only choice we will…” Denver’s look-a-like scowled.

  “Do you know anything about what’s making Central’s militia drop dead?” Addison changed the subject again. It was beginning to feel like we were part of a verbal pin-ball match—the conversation changing at any moment. I’d only played pin-ball once, on a refurbished machine someone had dug up, but the memory had stayed with me. Memories were so strange that way.

  “Drop dead?” Denver rubbed his forehead.

  “Yes. All at once,” Thomas explained. “The best way we’ve come up with to describe it is that it’s as though someone pushed a button that ended them all.”

  “Very convenient.” Denver nodded.

  “Too convenient,” I muttered.

  “What about all those rumors we heard? Of the cure? Were they lies?” Addison’s face was pale. Any excitement at seeing Denver alive and well had been overshadowed with the rest of the news.

  “There was one,” the other clone began.

  “What happened?” There had to be more than what we were seeing.

  “Central happened.” He shrugged.

  “Wait, what?” Addison took a step back.

  “They don’t want a cure. If everything goes back to normal…” Denver trailed off.

  “There is no need for clones. There is no need for them.” It all made sense.

  “Exactly.” Denver pointed at me. “Exactly. Exactly.”

  “But who pressed the button so to speak? Who was powerful enough to take power from Central?”

  “Whoever that is, it’s who we need to find.” Denver smiled. “Anyone up for the challenge?”

  “Another challenge? Another journey? Another unknown destination?” Addison wrung her hands at her sides.

  “Do you have any better ideas?” There was nothing condescending in Denver’s words. He was legitimately asking.

  “No.” She shook her head. “And my guess is no one else does either.”

  Twenty-One

  Quinn

  His lips slowly moved up and down my neck, settling on a sensitive spot. He sucked in and then bit down gently. His hand slid up and down my body, while his other hand cradled my head. I pushed up against him, needing the feel of him against me. Needing the comfort and security only he could bring.

  His lips left my neck as his hand slid between my legs. “I love you, Quinn.”

  I gasped and woke up in a sweat. Maverick? Had I really just dreamt about Maverick in that way?

  I felt around me. Cool sheets. I hadn’t gone to sleep under the sheets. Bailey. Where was Bailey? I sat up shivering. It wasn’t from the cold. It was from fear. Real and terrifying fear. I didn’t even remember leaving the room. They’d somehow drugged us—I was brought back to Central in my head. The room was dark, but I got up and stumbled around. I had to find Bailey.

  I hit something hard. A wall. I fumbled around and a small sliver of light entered the room. I must have found some sort of window. I glanced around, my heart rate decreasing as I caught sight of Bailey and Faith curled up on a cot.

  “Where are we?” Kayla rubbed the back of her head. She sat up. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know where we are exactly.” I pushed the blind back more, letting in even more light. “But my head is killing me.”

  “Mine too.” Kayla rubbed her head again. “They drugged us. I know it.”

  “That would explain the headache. Hold this so I can check on the girls.”

  “There has to be a way to open it more.” Kayla stood and joined me by the wall. She took the blind, tugged down and it sprung all the way up, mostly disappearing.

  “Thanks.” I hurried over to where the girls slept. Their breathing was even. “Do you think they drugged the girls too?” I was terrified of the answer. I knew Bailey had been through worse at Central, but she was older now. She might remember this. My stomach sunk. She might remember all of this. The older she got, the harder it was to shield her from everything.

  “Probably. I wouldn’t put anything past these people. Maverick and Bolton. Where are they?”
Kayla looked around.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t been up much longer than you have.” My focus had been on finding the girls.

  “I can’t believe this happened…” Kayla trailed off.

  “You mean you can’t believe Bolton let this happen.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to say anything.” And I understood. Whether we wanted to or not we’d all started relying on each other. The last I remembered Bolton had been keeping watch. That meant in one way or another he’d failed even if it wasn’t explicitly his fault.

  She looked away. “I don’t think that.”

  “Kayla… you know he tried.” I couldn’t quite believe I was defending Bolton, but when push came to shove he was on our side.

  “I’m worried.” She watched the girls.

  “About him? About us?”

  “About everyone.”

  “Well, right now we have to be grateful the four of us are together. If they took the girls away it would be much worse.”

  “Exactly.” Kayla knelt down in front of them.

  “Or if they separated us. I’m never going through that again.” I’d known when Kayla and I had ended up in different vehicles that we were in for trouble. I’d never been more relieved in my life when she showed up in Central. Not only was I grateful for her saving us, but I was grateful that she was okay. Even if she was often the one protecting me, she would always be my little sister. I cared about her more than she’d ever know.

  I closed my eyes trying to remember how we’d ended up in this room. Instead of memories, remnants of the dream came back. My breathing picked up. It had been so real. So vivid. I hadn’t thought of a man that way since Benjamin. And even then I didn’t dream like that. All my dreams were intense now. The nightmares. And this one. I opened my eyes. “We can’t just sit here.”

  “What did they give us?” Kayla put a hand on the side of her head. “My head is killing me.

  “Who knows. I’m worried about the girls. Do you think it’s bad that they haven’t woken up yet?”

  “I hope not.” Kayla ran her fingers over Faith’s cheek. “I’m torn. I want to wake them so we know for sure they are okay, but once we wake them this is all going to be a whole lot more complicated.”

  “We have to know.” I knelt beside her.

  Bailey stirred before I could do anything. She opened her eyes. “Mama?”

  “Hi, baby. Are you feeling okay?”

  “Sleepy.”

  I nodded. “Me too. Me too.”

  She closed her eyes and yawned.

  “Well, your job was easy,” Kayla teased. “Faith.” She whispered softly. Faith mumbled something and curled up into a tighter ball.

  Kayla nodded. “They are okay.”

  I walked back over to the blind and looked out for the first time. We were high up. The ground looked several floors down.

  “I guess we aren’t climbing out the window, are we?” Kayla pressed her hand to the glass. “Look at all those.” She pointed to three tall buildings. “We must be in a structure like that.”

  “What is this place?”

  “I don’t know. I assume it’s still the Glen, but this definitely feels different from where we were before.”

  “Stay with the girls.” Kayla walked toward the door on the far side of the room.

  “Where are you going? You can’t really leave me with both of them. We stay together.”

  She touched the doorknob. It didn’t turn. “I need to find out more about where we are.”

  “Then we do it together. You need to stop this, Kayla. We are all part of a team. Even if we’re separated from the men, the four of us have to stay together.”

  “I know.” Kayla sighed. “It’s just so hard. I don’t want to put the girls at risk, but I feel like staying puts them at risk too.”

  “They are better off if we stay together. I am right about this. Just this once trust me.”

  “I’ve trusted you plenty of times.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Kayla, please. Now isn’t the time to make up stories.”

  “I have. I trust you. I always do. Just because I act impulsively doesn’t mean I don’t value your sage advice.”

  “Sage advice?” I laughed. “Now I know you are really stretching the truth.”

  She turned her back to the door. “We need a plan.”

  “Yes, we do. So, let’s make this one together.”

  Kayla jumped as the door jangled behind her. We waited, spread out just enough to create a visual barrier between the door and the girls.

  The door opened and Clayton, the bearded man from earlier, walked in. “Good morning again.” He grinned as though there was anything about the situation worth grinning about.

  “Where are the others?” There were so many questions to ask, but that one needed to be answered first. Unfortunately, I couldn’t think about Maverick without thinking about the dream. It was seared in my head.

  “Calm down.” Clayton made a downward motion with his hands.

  “Calm down?” Kayla gasped “You drugged us.”

  “It was nothing dangerous. I assure you.”

  “Nothing dangerous? You gave it to our daughters. Did you know how it would react in children?” Anger surged through me. Messing with me was one thing. Doing anything to the girls was something else entirely. I would do anything to protect them.

  “We knew it was safe.” He craned his neck to look around us. I assumed it was to get a better look at the girls. I moved to the side to block his view.

  “How?” Kayla crossed her arms over her chest. “How could you have known it was safe.”

  “Because it’s been tested.” He gave up trying to look. I’d been successful on one count.

  “On children?” Kayla pressed.

  “It’s been tested and used before. There is nothing to worry about. They are absolutely fine.” He pointed around us toward where the girls slept.

  “You don’t know that. You don’t know if they will still be fine in a few hours.” No one could know. Drugs could have all sorts of side effects. I had convinced myself everything was fine in order to keep calm, but I didn’t really know.

  “They will be. Listen. I understand your concern.” He bowed his head fractionally.

  “You can’t possibly understand our concern.” I struggled to keep my voice low so I wouldn’t wake up the girls.

  “Actually, I can.” He put his hands together as if in prayer. “You aren’t the only parents.”

  “What?” I let his words set in. “Are you saying there are other kids here?” I tried to remember what the man had said about clothing. Hadn’t he implied there weren’t other children?

  “There are some. And we want to bring in more. But that’s not what I’m referring to.”

  “You’re a father?” Kayla questioned. “From Central or…” She trailed off.

  “No.” He shook his head. “In the old-fashioned way.”

  “Where is the child?” Could it really be? I searched his face for evidence that his words were only lies.

  Clayton shook his head. “I wish I knew. They took my wife. And my son. You see we aren’t as different as you think.”

  “Why should we trust you?” He might be telling us this story to make us feel sorry for him. To gain our trust. But trust was a fragile thing.

  “I have no answer to that other than to posit the question, why shouldn’t you trust me?” He rested his chin in his hand.

  “Because you separated us from the others. Because you drugged us.” And the list went on.

  “What if there are good reasons for that?” He tugged on his beard. “Would that change your view of things?”

  “Oh yes. Good reasons.” Kayla rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, these reasons have to do with the importance of rules. Got it.”

  “You both hate rules? Why?” His pensive look returned.

  “Answer our questions first.” Technically he was in control, bu
t that didn’t mean we had to make it easy on him. Going with the flow wasn’t usually the best course of action.

  “What questions? You made a statement.”

  I sighed. “Why did you separate us? Why did you drug us? Now I phrased them as questions. Answer.”

  “I will, but you have to promise to let me explain everything. Don’t interrupt.”

  “We’re not promising you anything.” Kayla shot me a look. As if I was going to disagree with her? Sometimes my sister frustrated me with her lack of faith in me.

  A look resembling awe crossed Clayton’s face. “You two have a strength I’ve rarely seen.”

  “We hear that a lot.” Kayla yawned.

  “Does that come from your parents? Your upbringing?”

  “Why does any of that matter?” There was no reason for us to explain ourselves. Our past wasn’t of issue.

  “Because it does. Because I believe in the old way of things.”

  “And that’s what you have here?” I tried to follow. This conversation was going nowhere.

  He shook his head. “Not now. Not yet. But one day.”

  “Please explain everything to us.” I looked over at Kayla, hoping she was going to follow my lead. We needed answers, and if that meant humoring this guy and hearing his story then so be it.

  “Did you love her?” Kayla asked. “The mother of your child?”

  “Love.” Clayton rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s an interesting term.”

  “You don’t believe in it?” I knew this question wasn’t the most pertinent, but it was a question I asked myself all the time. Did love exist outside the confines of family? Was there such a thing as true romantic love? And if there had been before, was it gone now? I fought against my feelings for Maverick constantly.

  “It’s not the matter of believing.” Clayton shifted his weight from foot to foot. “It’s the matter of understanding it.”

  “Understanding it? It’s not that complicated. Either you have it or you don’t.”

  “Have you ever been in love?” He inclined his head to the side. “And I don’t mean for your sister and daughter. I mean romantic love.”

  “Yes.” Kayla nodded. “I have.”

  I wondered if she realized the can of worms she’d opened. What if he asked if she was in love with Bolton?