Read Keep Me Close (Lazarus Rising Book 2) Page 20


  “I did follow him! I went to that alley,” Willow’s chin jerked up. “I watched you all from a rooftop.”

  Cecelia smiled. “And when you watched, you saw that Flynn wasn’t the monster you’d been told he was. You saw him help me. You saw him protect me.”

  Flynn eased his hold, but his body stayed ready to attack.

  Willow didn’t move. “Bryce said Flynn was evil. That he’d…he’d twisted your mind.”

  “My mind isn’t twisted. Bryce’s is.”

  Willow lifted a hand and rubbed her temple. “I think mine is…too.” And she sounded so incredibly sad. “I wanted to be okay…I see everyone else on the street. They laugh and they smile and they live. I wanted to be like them.” She shook her head. “But I’m not. Bryce said we were better than them, that we were more. But I don’t feel like more.” Her hand dropped to her side. “I feel like so much less.”

  “You’re not,” Jay immediately snarled.

  Cecelia blinked and her head turned as she frowned at him.

  “She’s not,” he said again, a little calmer. “Just look at her—she’s strong and smart and sexy as all hell. She’s not less than anyone, anywhere. And she should never think that she is.”

  Flynn heard Willow’s heartbeat accelerate. He thought she was getting ready to attack but—

  “Thank you,” she whispered to Jay. “But…I still don’t forgive you for locking me up.”

  He smiled at her. “Maybe one day.”

  “No. Never.”

  His smile slipped. “I guess some things can’t be forgiven.” And he looked away from her.

  Cecelia released a slow breath. “My name is Dr. Cecelia Gregory. I’m a psychiatrist. I was originally assigned to work with the Lazarus subjects at the facility in Arizona.”

  “Arizona?” Willow shuffled away from Flynn. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I wasn’t in Arizona.”

  Flynn and Cecelia shared a long look. “Where were you?” Flynn asked Willow.

  She hesitated. “Bryce said…he said I was in North Carolina. When he pulled me out of that prison, there was snow on the ground. Light, white. So pretty. Thin trees were everywhere, and the sun was so bright.” A smile flashed on her face. “It was beautiful. I hadn’t…I hadn’t been able to see the sun from my cell.”

  Fucking bastards. “How long were you in a cell?”

  “I don’t know.” She rolled back her shoulders. “I woke up in one. Didn’t remember anything about my life. Didn’t know where I was, how I’d gotten there. Then a doctor came to see me.”

  Flynn’s jaw hardened. “Landon. Fucking Landon Meyer. The guy did have other facilities, just as we suspected, he had—”

  “No. I don’t know any Landon Meyer. The doctor was a woman. Around forty, with short blonde hair and dark eyes.”

  Jay whistled. “Pay-damn-dirt.” He bounded toward Willow.

  She immediately tensed.

  “Tell me her name,” Jay urged. “I can have her whole life spread before us in minutes if you tell me her name—”

  “I called her Dr. Gail. Never knew if Gail was her first name or her last. And you don’t need her life because she’s dead.” Willow’s gaze swept over them all. “Bryce…he…”

  “Let me guess,” Flynn cut in when her words halted. “Did he choke her with a length of white rope?”

  A tear slipped down Willow’s cheek. “The last thing she said…I heard her screaming ‘Willow!’—over and over. Then there were no more screams. She couldn’t scream, and I didn’t see why until he unlocked my cell and took me out. He called me Willow. And he walked me past her body.”

  “Oh, damn,” Jay said. “Just…damn.”

  “I don’t want to be like him,” Willow said, twisting her fingers together. “But Bryce said we were made to kill. I…watched you.” She nodded toward Flynn. “You’re a weapon, just like me. Is that all we are? All we were designed to be?”

  He started to respond—

  “No,” Cecelia said flatly. “You are one hell of a lot more than that. Don’t ever think otherwise.” And she hurried to Flynn’s side. Her fingers threaded with his. “He isn’t a weapon. He’s a man. Just like you’re a woman. And you can think, and feel, and love. You don’t live just to kill. You…you live.”

  “We’re going to help you, Willow,” Jay promised, his eyes intense. “We’ll figure out your past. Figure out who that doctor was.”

  Willow’s lashes lowered, covering her gaze. “And what are you going to do about Bryce? Are you going to help him, too?”

  No one spoke.

  “Bryce is dangerous. A killer.” Cecelia’s face was set in determination. “I’ve worked with the FBI. Even before Lazarus, Bryce was—”

  Willow’s mocking laughter cut through her words. “Was there really ever a before Lazarus?”

  “Yes,” Jay answered immediately. “There was. You had a life.”

  Willow’s lower lip trembled. “Can I get it back?”

  Flynn hurt for her. He’d been there. Hell, yes, he had. Wanting his life back, wanting those memories, but seeing only darkness.

  “I don’t think so,” Jay said, voice soft. “And I’m sorry for that.”

  Willow gave a jerky nod. “Bryce said…he said that I could get it all back, if I helped him.”

  And Flynn understood why she’d stayed with the man who seemed to terrify her. “When did you realize he was lying?”

  She glanced at him. “When I saw you with her…” She pointed at Cecelia. “In that alley. You were so desperate to get to her. You weren’t some cold monster. You cared. You loved. Just like everyone else I see in the world. Everyone but me.”

  Silence.

  Cecelia slipped closer to Willow. “How did Bryce want you to help him?”

  “I can…do things.” She glanced nervously at the group. “It probably sounds crazy, but I have—”

  “Psychic powers,” Jay finished, waving his hand. “Right. All the Lazarus subjects do. What’s your talent?”

  She stared at him with wide eyes.

  “Bryce can feed his emotions to others.” Flynn figured he’d put that out there. “He can charge you up with his rage and his fear. He can blind you with his power, make you think it’s your own, and all you want to do is attack.”

  She seemed to shrink a little bit.

  Cecelia cleared her throat. “The man in charge of the Arizona facility—his name was Dr. Landon Meyer. The guy used the formula on himself. And he could—he boasted that he could make others do what he wanted, if he got close enough to them physically.”

  Willow focused her bright stare on Flynn. “What can you do?”

  “I heal faster than the other subjects I’ve met. My strength is greater, too.”

  “But…there’s more…you can do more, can’t you?”

  He glanced at Cecelia. “I picked up on her dreams one night. Didn’t intend to do it. When I was at Lazarus, I was always separated from the other subjects at night, and it’s not like any of us really dreamed, anyway. Cecelia is the first person I’ve been near when she sleeps, so I don’t know if I was linked to her, specifically, or if I can slip into the dreams of any person I’m near.”

  “We should test that shit,” Jay immediately stated.

  Flynn just shook his head. “What about you?” he pushed Willow again.

  “I’m not a monster,” she whispered.

  Now Cecelia positioned herself so that she was right in front of the other woman. Her hand rose, and she squeezed Willow’s shoulder. “We never said you were.”

  “Right…” She exhaled. “I can see a person’s worst fears. I look at the person, and I see it—an image that appears in my mind.” She hesitated, then blurted as her cheeks flushed dark red, “And if I touch the person, I can make it seem as if that fear is coming true. As if the individual’s worst nightmare is really happening.”

  Okay, that one was hell of a dark talent.

  Willow’s gaze was on Flynn. “You see dreams,??
? she whispered. “I only see fears. Sounds like I got the short end of the stick.”

  And he thought of Cecelia’s dream. No, her nightmare…the past, coming back to haunt her again and again. “Don’t be too sure of that. Some dreams are worse than any fear you can imagine.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Do you want to know your worst fear?”

  Cecelia felt her shoulders stiffen at Willow’s question. She’d just brought the other woman upstairs and opened the door to one of the guest rooms. Jay had invited Willow to spend the night, and, surprisingly, she’d agreed.

  “I don’t mean to pry, I swear, I don’t, but some people just broadcast really strong, and you’re one of those people.”

  Cecelia slipped across the threshold. Willow followed behind her, and Willow’s steps were silent. She moved just like Flynn and Sawyer.

  “I’m sorry,” Willow blurted. “Sorry for the whole mess, sorry for the way we met, and for grabbing you back at your office—”

  “My worst fear is that I’ll be a victim.” Cecelia turned to face Willow. She met the other woman’s bright stare unflinchingly. “That I’ll be helpless and I won’t be able to stop my attacker.”

  Willow stared at her, frowned, then glanced away.

  “I know my own fears,” Cecelia continued carefully, “you don’t have to worry about—”

  “That’s…not what you fear the most,” Willow’s voice was halting. “I mean, I’m sure you’re afraid of that, but it’s not the fear that tears your heart apart.”

  Willow was wrong. That one fear had haunted her since she was fifteen.

  “You’re afraid you’ll be helpless…” Willow rubbed her neck. “When someone you love is being attacked. You’re afraid that you won’t be able to stop the danger, and that you’ll lose—”

  “Don’t.”

  Willow gazed back at her. “You know who you fear losing the most.”

  Yes, she did.

  “But I don’t know why you even fear that. He’s strong. He’s…like me. Not like he’d be easy to kill.”

  “Protect your head,” Cecelia said crisply. “Please remember that. Because Bryce might have told you that you can come back from death, but a bullet to the brain will put you out permanently.”

  “A bullet…what? And what do you mean, ‘come back from death’? No one comes back from—”

  Oh, shit. Cecelia schooled her expression, fast. But it was too late.

  “I died?” Willow asked. She hurried toward Cecelia, not even glancing at the room around her. “You’re saying I’m dead?”

  “I’m saying that…in order for the Lazarus formula to work, the test subject must be dead before the serum can be administered. I’m sorry, Willow. The whole process—it has side effects. The memory loss you suffer is a major side effect—”

  “I’m dead?”

  “You were dead. You’re very much alive now. Your heart beats, your skin is warm, your brain functions, you—”

  “I…think I need to be alone, please.” Willow’s voice was wooden.

  Cecelia felt her stomach clench. “I know your greatest fear, too, you know.”

  Willow didn’t look her in the eyes.

  But Cecelia kept talking. “You’re so worried that you’re some dangerous…thing. But you’re not. You’re not a thing. You’re a person. A woman. You feel, you care. Bryce was manipulating you, but you can be free of him. You can start fresh.”

  Willow didn’t respond.

  If the woman wanted time alone, then Cecelia would give her that time. “Get some sleep. Things will be better in the morning.” She headed for the door.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Cecelia glanced over her shoulder.

  “Why would things be better in the morning?”

  Cecelia smiled. “It’s just something my mom used to say. Things are always better when the light comes.”

  Willow crept toward the big, picture window. She stared into the night. “I like the light.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I’m…sorry.” Willow’s words were so low. “I wish we’d talked sooner.”

  “We’re talking now. And after you rest, we’ll talk more.” Cecelia closed the door softly behind her as she slipped into the hallway. She’d only taken a few steps when she saw the dark shadow that waited near the stairs. Cecelia stilled even though she knew… “Flynn? Were you waiting on me?”

  “We can’t let our guard down with her. Back at the Lazarus facility, I saw first-hand what happens when you trust the wrong soldier.”

  “She’s hurting, Flynn. She’s confused and she’s lost, and she’s about two steps away from being broken. You and Sawyer had each other, but Willow had no one. I need to talk with her more. I need to find a way to help her.”

  He gave a low rumble of a laugh as he stalked toward her. “You always want to help.”

  She’d become a psychiatrist so that she could help others.

  “But you can’t save the world. Some people don’t want to be saved.”

  “And some people don’t even know that they need saving.” She felt the ache in her heart. “Do you think people are born bad? Or do you think they become that way? What pushes a person over the edge? What if you could stop that descent? What if you could change a life? Wouldn’t you do it?”

  “Cece…”

  “I would.” And that was why Willow had been dead-on when she talked about Cecelia’s fear. Cecelia hated the idea that someone would need her, and she wouldn’t be able to help. When she’d first met Flynn, she’d been so afraid he’d go over that dark precipice that waited for the Lazarus subjects, and if she lost him…what would she do?

  “Cecelia, would you risk yourself to save someone else’s life? To save Willow? Because, baby, that’s not a risk I ever want you to take. You’re worth too much.” He pulled her close and pressed a hard kiss to her lips. “You are too important.”

  He’d said he loved her. And when she’d heard those words—

  “Yo, guys, problem!” Jay’s voice blasted up to them. “Big problem—right the hell now.”

  His bellow had Cecelia jumping, and his shout also caused a door down the hallway to fly open as Elizabeth hurried out of another guest room. “What is happening?” Elizabeth had yanked on a robe.

  “I have no idea,” Cecelia told her. “But I think we need to get downstairs.”

  Flynn twined his fingers through hers, and they rushed down the stairs. Elizabeth followed right behind them. As soon as they reached the first floor, they saw Jay walk toward them, a laptop gripped in his hands. “The Special Agent isn’t following the rules,” he snapped.

  “Aaron?” Cecelia immediately exclaimed. “But, wait, I thought he was safe in D.C., keeping a low profile—”

  “Before we left town, the guy gave me some sob story about how he was going to check in with his sister, and since West and Sawyer were doing a body dump—something we didn’t want the FBI knowing about—I thought the special agent would be okay on his own. I mean, we pretty much had one of those all-hell-breaking-loose situations on our hands at Cecelia’s office—”

  “Stop!” Cecelia snapped. She needed him to slow down and she needed to think. She sucked in a deep breath, and her gaze took in the group that had gathered at the base of the stairs. Jay hadn’t been alone on the first floor. Sawyer and West shadowed him. They were back, so that meant…

  They took care of the body. Her stomach clenched.

  Elizabeth hurried toward Sawyer. She rose onto her toes, hugged him, and whispered something in his ear.

  “Slow the hell down,” West ordered Jay. “And tell us what’s happening with the special agent.”

  Jay squared his shoulders. “I think he’s playing hero.” His face had flushed. “Because according to the signal I’m getting, the guy is heading for our favorite club of ill repute, Sin.” He focused on Cecelia. “This little visit of his will screw up the brilliant plan I’d just made for us all. We were going to use Willow,
you see.”

  “Use her?” Cecelia repeated.

  “Yes. I considered it from all angles, and I realized that Bryce must value her highly. He broke her out of her prison, after all. I planned for him to follow her back to us. We would all be waiting to nab him when he arrived.” Frustration flashed on his face. “But we can’t fucking all be waiting here if Aaron is about to get his ass hurt because he’s out trying to hunt Bryce on his own. We told the special agent that this case was above his pay grade. He’s supposed to stay back, not get himself killed!”

  Cecelia glanced around, frantic. She’d put her phone down in that area earlier and—yes! She spied it on a table near the stairs. Cecelia grabbed the phone. She called Aaron, rocking back and forth as she waited for him to answer, needing him to pick up the—

  “Hello, Cecelia.”

  That wasn’t Aaron’s voice. Aaron hadn’t answered his phone.

  “Are you missing someone?” The deep, rumbling voice asked—a voice that she knew belonged to Bryce King. “Because, my dear, I have your friend.”

  She whirled to stare straight at Flynn, aware that horror was flooding her face.

  “Guess what?” Bryce taunted. “I know what you fear…”

  “Fuck,” Flynn snarled as he obviously overhead Bryce’s words. “Willow was tricking us all—get her!”

  Sawyer ran for the stairs, and West was right behind him.

  Elizabeth and Jay both appeared rooted to the spot.

  “Do you feel helpless?” Bryce asked Cecelia. Then he laughed. “Because you are.”

  “Don’t hurt him! Don’t—”

  “A disgraced FBI agent…what is he going to do? When I get in his head, when I push his feelings of anger and grief, when I turn him inside out, there will only be one response. One way to get out of his nightmare.” Bryce paused. “Can you guess his way out?”

  “Don’t,” Cecelia said again, but she knew it sounded as if she were almost begging, and she was. Bryce wanted her to beg. If she gave him what he wanted, then maybe he’d stop. Because she knew exactly what he planned to do with Aaron.