“No!” She squirmed on his lap. “Take some deep breaths. You’re getting agitated.”
“Explain.”
She glanced away and then back. He knew what that meant—she’d always been easy to read. She didn’t want to respond.
“Explain!” he demanded louder.
“I left site four before you moved to Homeland.”
Pain came with realization. It tightened his chest as though a fist squeezed his heart. He’d always feared she’d quit her job and abandon him. “You left me?”
Her eyes flooded with tears. “I did. I’m so sorry.”
He released her waist and leaned back, jerking his face away from her gentle touch. The urge to shove her off his lap was there but he couldn’t do it. “I left site four and came here without you?”
“Yes.” The tears slipped down her face.
He resisted the urge to wipe them with his thumbs. “Why are you here now?”
“You needed me. I came the minute they called. I didn’t even go home. I turned the car around and drove straight to Homeland.”
“You’re not in danger if you leave my cage?”
“No. You’re safe here. I promise.”
Joy had chosen to abandon him. He had pride. “Get out, Joy. Go.” He saw surprise in her eyes. “Get off my lap. Don’t touch me again. I don’t want your pity.”
“466,” she whispered, reaching for his face again.
He reacted by rolling, dumping her gently on the concrete floor, and scooted away until he could climb to his feet. He backed up to the wall of the cage, watching her, as he fought his emotions. Pain and anger were evenly matched.
“Get someone else to tell me what has happened. I don’t trust you anymore.”
Joy wiped at her tears as she watched 466 put as much distance between them as possible. Telling him so much had been a mistake. She hadn’t wanted to lie to him or risk him trying to escape, believing they were both in danger from Mercile. She’d forgotten how protective he was until he’d kicked the cell door closed in an attempt to protect her. The key to his shackles was out of his reach where she’d tossed it but he could take the door key if he wanted. It was inside her pocket where she’d slipped it after stepping into his cell.
“Please, 466.” She wasn’t above begging. Guilt was something she’d lived with since the day she’d packed her bags and driven away from that motel in the desert. “Listen to me.”
“No.” He curled his upper lip to reveal his sharp canines. “Get out. I am not yours anymore. Is my name really Moon? I chose that?”
“Yes.”
“Stop calling me a number then.” He glared at her and growled in a menacing way. “I told you I’d never take a human name.”
The professional part of her was happy to see that he seemed coherent and retained the information she’d given him. He had every right to be furious and reject her help after she’d betrayed his trust. It hurt that he wanted her to go. A selfish part of her was tempted to leave him for a few hours in hope that he’d forget what she’d said so they could start over again. Lesson learned. He hates me now that he understands some of what happened between us.
“Moon, I’m not leaving you. We need to figure out what is going on so I can help.”
“I don’t want you near me.”
Don’t cry again. Her feelings didn’t matter. “You aren’t lucid often but you are right now. Are you in any physical pain? Does anything hurt? Are you suffering a headache? Nausea?” She wasn’t a medical doctor but she was pretty sure they’d want to know that to gauge the effects of the drug. “It’s important.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, glanced down at the chains, and anger wrinkled his nose. “My body is fine.”
“Any weakness in any of your limbs?”
“No. The bands aren’t comfortable but I’ve lived with worse.”
“Any numbness in your fingers? Toes?”
He flexed his hands. “No.”
She was relieved to hear it. It wasn’t a drug designed to target his pain centers to drive him insane. “What about your emotions? Do you feel off? Are you having a hard time focusing or following our conversation now? How is your eyesight? Your hearing? Any buzzing in your ears or can you hear your own heartbeat?”
“Get out, Joy.”
“Damn it, Moon. Please answer me before I leave.”
“I feel normal.”
And very angry but she didn’t attribute that to any physical symptoms. “When you first saw me, you didn’t know who I was. Did it just come back to you? Was it fast as if you suddenly knew or was it slower?”
He leaned back against the bars and his chin lifted as he continued to regard her with that grim expression. “You were familiar but I didn’t know why. I focused on a memory and it got stronger until I knew you.”
“Do you remember being at Mercile?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember being freed?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember Homeland now?”
Some of the tension left his face as he searched his memory. “No.”
“What is the last thing you do remember?”
“Being in your office and wanting you to sit on my lap.”
She slowly got to her feet. “Try to focus on when I left.”
“Explain.”
She glanced away and then back. He knew what that meant—she’d always been easy to read. She didn’t want to respond.
“Explain!” he demanded louder.
“I left site four before you moved to Homeland.”
Pain came with realization. It tightened his chest as though a fist squeezed his heart. He’d always feared she’d quit her job and abandon him. “You left me?”
Her eyes flooded with tears. “I did. I’m so sorry.”
He released her waist and leaned back, jerking his face away from her gentle touch. The urge to shove her off his lap was there but he couldn’t do it. “I left site four and came here without you?”
“Yes.” The tears slipped down her face.
He resisted the urge to wipe them with his thumbs. “Why are you here now?”
“You needed me. I came the minute they called. I didn’t even go home. I turned the car around and drove straight to Homeland.”
“You’re not in danger if you leave my cage?”
“No. You’re safe here. I promise.”
Joy had chosen to abandon him. He had pride. “Get out, Joy. Go.” He saw surprise in her eyes. “Get off my lap. Don’t touch me again. I don’t want your pity.”
“466,” she whispered, reaching for his face again.
He reacted by rolling, dumping her gently on the concrete floor, and scooted away until he could climb to his feet. He backed up to the wall of the cage, watching her, as he fought his emotions. Pain and anger were evenly matched.
“Get someone else to tell me what has happened. I don’t trust you anymore.”
Joy wiped at her tears as she watched 466 put as much distance between them as possible. Telling him so much had been a mistake. She hadn’t wanted to lie to him or risk him trying to escape, believing they were both in danger from Mercile. She’d forgotten how protective he was until he’d kicked the cell door closed in an attempt to protect her. The key to his shackles was out of his reach where she’d tossed it but he could take the door key if he wanted. It was inside her pocket where she’d slipped it after stepping into his cell.
“Please, 466.” She wasn’t above begging. Guilt was something she’d lived with since the day she’d packed her bags and driven away from that motel in the desert. “Listen to me.”
“No.” He curled his upper lip to reveal his sharp canines. “Get out. I am not yours anymore. Is my name really Moon? I chose that?”
“Yes.”
“Stop calling me a number then.” He glared at her and growled in a menacing way. “I told you I’d never take a human name.”
The professional part of her was happy to see that he seemed coherent and retained the information she’d given him. He had every right to be furious and reject her help after she’d betrayed his trust. It hurt that he wanted her to go. A selfish part of her was tempted to leave him for a few hours in hope that he’d forget what she’d said so they could start over again. Lesson learned. He hates me now that he understands some of what happened between us.
“Moon, I’m not leaving you. We need to figure out what is going on so I can help.”
“I don’t want you near me.”
Don’t cry again. Her feelings didn’t matter. “You aren’t lucid often but you are right now. Are you in any physical pain? Does anything hurt? Are you suffering a headache? Nausea?” She wasn’t a medical doctor but she was pretty sure they’d want to know that to gauge the effects of the drug. “It’s important.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, glanced down at the chains, and anger wrinkled his nose. “My body is fine.”
“Any weakness in any of your limbs?”
“No. The bands aren’t comfortable but I’ve lived with worse.”
“Any numbness in your fingers? Toes?”
He flexed his hands. “No.”
She was relieved to hear it. It wasn’t a drug designed to target his pain centers to drive him insane. “What about your emotions? Do you feel off? Are you having a hard time focusing or following our conversation now? How is your eyesight? Your hearing? Any buzzing in your ears or can you hear your own heartbeat?”
“Get out, Joy.”
“Damn it, Moon. Please answer me before I leave.”
“I feel normal.”
And very angry but she didn’t attribute that to any physical symptoms. “When you first saw me, you didn’t know who I was. Did it just come back to you? Was it fast as if you suddenly knew or was it slower?”
He leaned back against the bars and his chin lifted as he continued to regard her with that grim expression. “You were familiar but I didn’t know why. I focused on a memory and it got stronger until I knew you.”
“Do you remember being at Mercile?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember being freed?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember Homeland now?”
Some of the tension left his face as he searched his memory. “No.”
“What is the last thing you do remember?”
“Being in your office and wanting you to sit on my lap.”
She slowly got to her feet. “Try to focus on when I left.”
