Her eyes opened. So dark and deep and beautiful. “I need you, Sawyer. Now.”
Sawyer.
Her hand reached between their bodies. She stroked his cock through the fabric of his pants. “Sawyer.”
Again…she called that name.
My name?
But the haze of lust was too strong. He had to have her. He was fucking insane with dark need. His hands curled around her waist, and he lifted her up. Her back shoved into the wood of the door even as her legs wrapped around his hips. The head of his cock pressed against the entrance to her body. And—
He sank deep. Her breath choked out, and then he kissed her. His tongue thrust into her mouth even as his cock drove into her body, again and again. He used his hold on her hips to lift her up and down, moving her quickly over the length of his cock. He could hear the faint moan rising in her throat.
“No sound, baby. Remember…”
She came, biting her lip, choking back her cry of release, and he was lost. Her sex squeezed around him, white-hot, so tight, and he erupted within her. His cock jerked, his body shuddered, and he held her with desperate hands. Can’t let her go. Not ever. Not fucking—
***
His eyes flashed open. His heart thundered in his chest, sweat covered his body, and his dick was rock-hard and currently shoving straight toward the ceiling.
One didn’t move. His breath heaved in and out, and the dream slowly faded. The visions—so hot and consuming—of the sexy lover with the dark eyes, the dark hair, the perfect skin…
Elizabeth Parker.
He’d been balls deep in her, and she’d come for him, in that dream. She’d come for him.
And she’d called his name.
Sawyer.
What in the hell was happening?
***
“Thanks for coming in today,” Dr. Cecelia Gregory said with a faint smile as she settled behind her desk. Her red hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail and her hazel eyes gleamed at him.
One sprawled back against her couch. The easy pose was at total odds with the tension inside of his body. Where was Elizabeth Parker? He hadn’t seen her in over twenty-four hours. “Not like I have a choice.”
Her eyelashes flickered. “Is something wrong today? You seem tense.”
Plenty of things are wrong. “What’s my name?”
Cecelia swallowed. “I…you know that all of the soldiers in this unit have code names, you have—”
“We don’t have freaking code names.” Anger sharpened each word. “We have numbers. I’m One. The bastard in the cell next to me is Two. There are six of us total, and we’re just numbers to you people.”
She was breathing faster. Her heart was drumming faster, too, and, no, he didn’t know that because he could see her pulse. He could hear her heartbeat. He’d lied to the doc before. His senses were far more enhanced than he’d let on to Landon and the other lab-coat wearing jerks. All of his team members had senses that were far stronger than any of them had revealed. They were keeping secrets. Only fair because it seemed their doctors and handlers were keeping secrets, too.
“You are a soldier,” Cecelia began carefully. Sure, he was probably supposed to think of her as Dr. Gregory, but he didn’t. She was Cecelia to him. Mostly because that was what Two called her. Two talked about her, far too often.
Because that guy has a hard-on for the shrink.
“You—you volunteered for this experimental group.” Her words tumbled out quickly and her heart continued to pound. “You knew the risks involved going in, and the memory loss you suffer—”
“What if my memories come back?”
Her jaw dropped.
Should have kept that to my damn self.
Too late. Like a spider who’d just caught a fly in her web, Cecelia leaned forward eagerly. “Have your memories returned? Is that what you’re telling me? Did you have a flash of—”
I had a wet dream.
“—of something? Or…someone?”
“No,” he lied. He did it without blinking, without even a flutter of his heartbeat. The truth of the matter was that he didn’t fully trust the shrink—or any of the people in that facility. They’d told him that he was a soldier, that he’d offered up his life to protect his country.
That he’d been a volunteer for this program.
Only…he and the others were kept in cells. Cages. White rooms that had no windows. And when they left their cells, guards always followed them around the facility.
They had zero contact with the outside world unless they were hunting their prey, completing a mission. The set-up was wrong, and he knew it. “I had a name before,” his voice was flat. “We all did. So why the hell do you people just call us by numbers?”
She swallowed. “I…I was told not to use your names because we didn’t want to create any false memories.”
Bullshit. He didn’t buy that story. “Maybe it’s just easier to treat us as numbers and not people.” He surged to his feet and strode for the door. “I think we’re done for today.”
Cecelia hurried after him. “But, One, wait—”
He whirled toward her. “I have a name.” And in his mind, he could see Elizabeth, could hear her say…
Sawyer.
The shrink didn’t respond, but her gaze did swing toward the video camera that was positioned in the nearby corner, right next to the ceiling. Their sessions weren’t private, he knew that. Noting was private in the Lazarus facility. Someone was always watching. Yet another thing that made the place wrong. Being under constant surveillance isn’t normal. He yanked open the door and stormed into the hallway.
And he almost ran straight into Elizabeth.
His hands flew out as he prepared to steady her. He could see two of the facility’s guards rushing forward—
“We’re fine,” Elizabeth called out to them. “Stay back.”
Instantly, they heeded her command. The new doc obviously had a whole lot of authority.
His fingers curled around her shoulders as he steered her to the side, moving them away from Cecelia’s office. He lowered his head, bringing his face close to hers. “I have a name.”
She licked her lips. “You seem stressed today.”
Stressed? She had no clue. Driven to push her, driven to find out just how many lies were being told, he whispered, “You know my name.”
And he saw it. The flicker of her lashes. The stutter of her breath. He could lie well, but the new doc couldn’t. His hold tightened on her. “Say my name.”
The guards were inching closer. Probably because he had his hands on the doc and was holding her too tightly. The subjects weren’t supposed to touch the doctors. That was a rule. No physical contact, only that necessary for exams. But his hands were tight on Dr. Elizabeth Parker.
“Say it.” A snarled order that burst from him.
One of the guards shot forward and grabbed him. “You need to back away,” the guy blasted.
But…
“Sawyer,” Elizabeth said, the word barely more than a breath, but he heard it. His name. His heart pounded wildly in his chest as he let out a guttural growl. The guard was pulling him away from Elizabeth, but One—Sawyer, my name is fucking Sawyer!—shoved the bastard back. He grabbed for Elizabeth, yanking her against him, and she felt familiar.
An alarm began blaring overhead. The second guard grabbed Sawyer’s shoulders, but Sawyer just ignored the guy. Sawyer’s hands were on Elizabeth, and he wasn’t letting her go. “What else do you know about me?”
Fear flashed in her dark eyes, and something…something deep inside of him broke loose.
“Get your hands off her, One!” the guard pressed his gun to Sawyer’s back.
Regular bullets weren’t in that gun. Sawyer knew the gun was just loaded with tranqs. The guards wouldn’t actually risk killing him or any of the other subjects there. They were too valuable. The prisoners—the weapons—were too valuable.
“What else do you know?” Sawyer demanded
of the doc. “Tell me. Fucking tell me.”
The alarm kept blaring. More guards were coming. They were going to take him away from her. Rage twisted inside of him. Growing stronger. I’m not a caged animal. They weren’t going to keep treating him like one.
The rage grew, as did a thick darkness that swept through his mind. Attack. Destroy.
He whirled, fast, and he yanked the gun right out of the hand of the bastard who’d been digging the muzzle into Sawyer’s back. He fired without hesitation, and the bullet—the tranq—shoved into the chest of the guard. The guy went down.
Elizabeth screamed.
Sawyer whirled back at the sound and saw that horror was on her face. Horror on her face and terror in her eyes.
I’ve seen that look before.
Every muscle in his body locked down. “Elizabeth—”
“Get away from the woman, now!” The other guards were closing in, and one had just shouted that order at him.
Sawyer didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Elizabeth, shoved her behind him so she’d be safe, and he fired. He aimed with cold accuracy and squeezed the trigger. One down, two down, three…
His shots flew right into his targets. The men fell in the hallway.
“Stop it!” Elizabeth screamed. “Stop! This isn’t you! Stop attacking them!”
He turned back to her. “Tranqs. They aren’t…dead.”
Tears slid down her cheeks. It was wrong for her to be crying. Wrong for her to be afraid. Everything that was happening…it was just wrong.
His left hand lifted—the hand that didn’t grip the gun. His fingers brushed over her cheek, wiping away a tear. “Don’t cry, doc,” Sawyer told her. “Don’t—”
The tranq slammed into his back. Sawyer grunted and twisted his body, turning his head so that he could see the shooter. His gaze fell on the open doorway to the left, the doorway that led to Cecelia Gregory’s office. Cecelia stood in that doorway, her hand gripping a gun. Her face was stark white, and her body was shaking.
The tranq was in his system, Sawyer could feel it snaking through his bloodstream—an icy cold that would soon overwhelm him. But, unlike the guards who littered the floor, Sawyer didn’t collapse immediately. His body was different, and it took longer for the tranq to take him out. He was building an immunity to the damn thing. Soon, it won’t impact me. Soon.
His weapon was trained on the shrink. He could pull the trigger and knock her out with the hit but…
But I won’t.
“Don’t,” Elizabeth said, her fingers sliding over his and, just like that, she was in front of him. The gun was at her chest.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Because he had a terrible vision filling his head right then. Of Elizabeth rushing in front of him. Of him holding a gun, of Elizabeth…falling. Being shot. He could see her blood—Elizabeth’s blood soaked her shirt.
The gun dropped from his hand, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him. “Sorry!” The cry burst from him. Elizabeth, bleeding, shot… “Can’t hurt…you…” Talking was hard. The tranq had iced his whole body. He could feel it move through his veins. It had already made his tongue turn thick in his mouth. “Never…hurt…you…”
His knees gave way. They fell to the floor, but he twisted, making sure his body hit and cushioned hers. He held her close, locking her against him. He couldn’t let her go. Not Elizabeth. His Elizabeth.
Their mouths were close. He could see the tear tracks on her face. He could see—
“I’m going to help you,” Elizabeth whispered. “I swear.”
The words were only for him.
And they were the last thing he heard before the heavy darkness surrounded him completely.
Fucking tranq.
When he woke up, there was going to be hell to pay.
Chapter Eight
“Are you okay?”
Elizabeth exhaled slowly and tried to school her features. Sawyer’s slack body was being dragged away, and she wanted to rush after him.
Don’t. Stay in control.
“Uh, Dr. Parker? I…I’m Cecelia Gregory. I’m the psychiatrist here at the facility. I was told you were coming here—only I certainly didn’t expect to meet you under these circumstances.”
Elizabeth turned and found Cecelia Gregory staring at her with a wide, nervous stare. She knew Cecelia was the shrink who was supposed to be monitoring all of the Lazarus subjects. Sawyer had been in the room with Cecelia before he’d come rushing out into the hallway, his body tight with tension.
What happened in that room?
Elizabeth nodded to the other woman. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
Cecelia looked down at the weapon she still held in her hand. “Landon told me to keep this, just in case. I always feared the moment when I’d have to use it—” She turned and went back into her office, and Elizabeth followed her. Cecelia put the weapon on her desk. “Just a tranq.” Cecelia’s shoulders were stiff. “I was assured all weapons in the facility were only loaded with tranqs. Subjects aren’t to be killed, just contained.”
Elizabeth’s stare swept over the office. There was no missing the video camera and its little green light. Always watching. Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder. The unconscious guards were being moved—a new team had swept into the area as soon as Sawyer went down. She had no doubt that Landon would be rushing to intercept her at any moment. So she’d better ask her questions, fast. “Has, um, has One ever exhibited aggression like this before? Has he attacked the guards?” Please say no, please—
“I think they’re all becoming a bit more…aggressive.” Cecelia exhaled as she faced Elizabeth. Cecelia propped her hip against the side of her desk. “It’s only to be expected, really, given the way we treat them here. We can’t tell them that they’re free men, but treat them like prisoners. We can’t keep them in cages and send them out just to hunt and expect them to be perfectly behaved when they return. We can’t give them numbers and strip them of their identities and expect—” She broke off, clamping her lips together. “Sorry. I—it’s been a rough morning.”
Elizabeth sidled closer to her. The shrink didn’t like what was happening at Lazarus, that was obvious. Good. Maybe the woman could be an ally. Elizabeth made sure to position her body between Cecelia and the video camera. She made her voice as quiet as possible as she asked, “How much do you know about Lazarus?”
A furrow appeared between Cecelia’s brows. “What?”
“I—”
“Elizabeth!” Landon’s voice boomed from the doorway, making her jerk in surprise. “Dear God, I saw the security feed!”
Why couldn’t the guy have waited a few more moments before appearing? She schooled her features and glanced his way. “I’m okay.”
Landon rushed into the room. He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her toward him. “I thought he was going to attack you!” His cheeks were stained red. “It was just like before! I knew it could be dangerous if you were put in his path—”
Cecelia cleared her throat. “Um, excuse me? Does anyone want to tell me exactly what’s happening here? Before? Before what? I thought Dr. Parker was new—”
Landon’s gaze flew to the video camera. His lips clamped together. In an instant, he yanked his hands away from Elizabeth and straightened to his full height. “Dr. Gregory.” He glowered at the shrink. “You were supposed to report any aggressive instances immediately. Your sole job here is to monitor the test subjects. For us to have an incident right after a subject left your office for a session…that’s inexcusable.”
Cecelia jumped away from her desk. “Hold up. You’re blaming this on me? Me? I’m operating in the dark here! You and the other jerk in charge have barely given me enough information to work with my patients. I keep telling you that they need to be given normal rooms, not cells. That they should have access to the outside world, and not just on their missions! They are all like ticking time bombs because of this unnatural lifestyle.”
“Subject One wa
s a bomb who exploded today.” Landon was grim. “This cannot happen again. If it happens again…” His gaze darted to the camera, then back to Elizabeth. “We certainly don’t want to have to end this research project.”
End it? Was he saying—was the guy threatening to kill the test subjects?
Landon pointed his index finger at Cecelia. “I want a full report on my desk immediately—and be ready to come in and brief Wright via teleconference within the hour. You know after this situation, he will want to talk directly with you. We can’t afford these mistakes, not if we want this facility to succeed.” His hand dropped. Once more, he looked back at Elizabeth. “You’re…you’re sure he didn’t hurt you?”
“I’m fine.”
Landon leaned in close to her. “See, Elizabeth, it’s just like I told you. He’s nothing but a weapon now. Aim and fire. The man you knew is gone.”
She flinched.
Landon backed away. “I need to go and check in on One. Subject One and the guards who were taken out.” He marched out of the office, his lab coat flapping behind him.
Elizabeth pulled out her phone. No service, of course, not in this place, but she didn’t really want service. She typed out a quick text, and then, instead of trying to send it, she just lifted her phone toward Cecelia. She didn’t know how sensitive the audio surveillance might be in that room, so she figured she’d better play things safe.
Is there a place we can go and not be watched?
Cecelia’s head inclined in the briefest of nods. Without saying a word, Cecelia hurried from the office, and Elizabeth followed right on the psychiatrist’s heels.
***
“That didn’t last long.”
Sawyer opened his eyes and found the asshat, Dr. Landon Meyer, glowering at him.
Landon’s brows were pulled low over his eyes. The glasses were slightly tilted on his nose. “The tranq isn’t keeping you under for as long now. Not as long as it should be keeping you sedated.”