Forget Me Not (25 page)

Forcing myself to take long, deep breaths, I struggle to calm myself. I’ll faint again if I don’t. Somehow Jax’s reassurance helps.

“I heard the guards talking about a prisoner in the guest quarters,” Bertie says from beside the table where Al lies. Her voice is deep and raspy like she has a sore throat. When I look over, Will’s there too, standing protectively over Al.

“The guest quarters?” Will asks.

She shrugs. “I don’t know where they are.”

I look at her properly for the first time; her dress is no longer garish, it’s a dull, dirty purple. Her hair hangs in matted clumps around her face. Purple clings to the ends, but there’s an inch-long strip of white-grey at the roots. Her filthy feet are bare, and there’s no sign of the eccentric old lady who brought me and Will to the farm.

Al’s in a much worse state than Bertie. The rags of his blue tweed pants are all that covers his bruised and broken body. He’s gaunt, and his skin looks grey over ribs sticking out of his chest like a half-starved animal. So much weight gone since we said goodbye at the farm only a month ago. Angry red welts mark where his telltale bushy white eyebrows once spanned.

“Bertie, what happened to you?” My voice quivers, and I’m not sure I want to hear her answer. I push myself up onto my rear so I’m sitting. “What have they done to Al?”

“It’s not your fault.” Her gaze darts away.

“Are you both okay?” How could it be my fault? My eyes lock with Jax’s, and his show uncertainty. He must think it’s my fault, but that doesn’t make any sense. The need to do something makes me shuffle my weight. He pushes me up from behind, and my teeth grit against the stabbing pain in my leg.

“It is our fault,”
Will says through the telcom.

Scrunching my brows together, I shoot him a look which says I don’t understand.

He moves his head in a slow, deliberate shake, his eyes drooping with guilt.
“The Collective must have come for them because of us.”

My legs wobble. Luckily Jax still supports the bulk of my weight. Guilt consumes my very being. Guilt over feeling relieved. Guilt my actions caused Al’s fate. The heat of Will’s eyes bore into me.

“The Collective wouldn’t have made the connection between them and you,” Jax says. How does he do that—know what I’m thinking? Will’s glance made it clear he spoke into my mind alone.

Jax moves just a fraction, but the slight jostle is painful. I wince and twist my neck to face him. “They helped us.”

“Did you use the cover-up again after your house?” he asks.

My chest tightens, my mouth goes dry. I did. I used it once more in front of Al at the store. “Damn it. Yes.”

A deep groan from over by the wall draws everyone’s attention to the unconscious guard bound on the floor. Lilly rushes to him and yanks a telcom out of his ear. He stirs and opens eyes wild with anger and hatred. He takes in his two fallen comrades, both lying in pools of blood on the floor. He tries to speak, but only makes a muffled grunt through the thick gag. Thank God Lilly thought to remove his telcom.

Will zaps the guard in the back of the neck with a loud buzz. His eyes roll back in his head as he passes out again. It’s time to move
before someone else comes along. Dad’s still being held and, if Bertie’s right, he’s upstairs.

“We have to go back up and check those other rooms,” I say.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Will plants his feet before me and stands with his arms crossed like a barricade of solid muscle.

“Like hell I’m not. Try to stop me.” I pull away from Jax. If I can stand on my own, I won’t look so weak.

“We can’t leave Al and Bertie here. They need to be taken home. You can port them back to Beau and safety,” Will says.

The soft chink of chains comes from the table where Lilly works with Bertie to unwind Al’s restraints. Each noise sends a shock of wariness right to my heart. Will wants to get rid of me, move me out of danger. I’m tired of him always watching out for me like a damn bodyguard. I give him a level look.

“You can do that. I’m going to find my dad.” I place my weight on the sore leg and take a step toward the door, fighting to hold my face straight.

“Mae, you’re the only one of us who’s hurt, and you can barely stand on that leg,” he says.

A sharp, swallowed laugh sounds behind me. I glance over my shoulder, and Jax sports his telltale smirk. I shoot him a glare and swivel back to Will. “Stop treating me like a child.” I step forward. “Ahh.” A sharp pain shoots up my leg.

“Carry him,” Jax tells Will as he gestures to Al.

Will shakes his head, and I can tell he’s biting his tongue.

“What’s the matter, Dudley, too much for you?”

With his mouth set in a thin line, Will scoops Al up into his arms like he weighs no more than a small child.

I hobble out of the dingy torture room and don’t look behind to see if anyone follows. Each step is like a hot poker stabbing at my leg. I hold my head high and keep my posture straight. There’s no way I’m going to let Will see how much this hurts. Three steps out of the room and Jax comes up beside me, offering his arm.

“I’m fine.”
My teeth clench against the pain.

“Strong as an ox, stubborn as a mule.”
He moves on ahead, scouting for danger, no doubt.

Soft moans come from behind me, but I keep my eyes straight forward. I won’t look at Will.

“Shut him up,”
Jax orders.

“He’s in a lot of pain,”
echoes Lilly’s short reply.

“He’ll be in more pain if they hear us. Unless….”

A musical murmur, like soft singing, wafts on the air. It sounds like Bertie. Probably an attempt to settle Al.

The noises put me on edge too. What if they draw attention? Even so, Jax’s behavior is a little unfair. I glance all around us, but there’s nowhere to hide. My throat constricts. We’re too exposed; we need to get out of here. No one better go looking for those guards, or we’re in trouble. Hiding
in the shadows, Jax moves up ahead in the gloomy tunnel. The lights are spaced too far apart, so maybe we can hide in the shadows between them if the need arises.

I put one foot in front of the other and clench my jaw against the throbbing pain. The tunnel feels much longer than it did coming in. I step out again, and the pain lessens, almost bearable. I reach Jax waiting at the foot of the stairs, exhale a long ragged breath, then swipe my hand across my sweat dampened my forehead. I made it.

Jax sizes me up with a lazy gaze, but doesn’t say a word. Wise.

While we wait for the others to reach us, I lean against the wall, panting. Al is silent, his teeth gritted and his eyes squeezed shut. A look which clearly says he must still be in pain. Will takes one look at me with the same ‘you’re hurt
, go home’ look and opens his mouth. I shoot him a warning look, and he snaps it closed. Lilly and Bertie bring up the rear with Bertie walking, not appearing injured. The sweetness of relief floods my mouth. They must have only tortured Al, not her.

“This isn’t going to work,”
Will says.
“What if we need to fight? They’ll have us all in the time it takes me to put Al down,”
he says the last bit through the telcom so Bertie and Al can’t hear.

“We’ll manage.”
Jax picks at the wall with his blade.

“How can we fight when we have two defenseless people to protect?”
Will asks.

Jax turns and climbs the stairs, ending the conversation. I cling to the wall and pull myself up the stairs one at a time, gritting my teeth. A shaft of light streams down the narrow staircase. We must be getting close to the top. I pull myself up onto the next step and the next, forcing myself to climb the last few stairs.

Jax pauses at the top of the stairwell, slouching against the maroon, gold, and green wallpapered alcove.
“Shh, there are people in the hall,”
he says at my approach. 

“No one was making any noise,”
I say.

“Dragging that leg up the stairs isn’t silent.”
He raises an eyebrow, and his mouth twitches as he holds in a smile.

A series of deep, mournful sounds rise up the staircase. Jax glares down at the hulking shadow of Al in Will’s arms.

“For God’s sake, shut Al up.” 

“You really should port them out of here, Mae.”
Will’s voice assaults my mind.

I draw myself up straighter and shoot him a wicked scowl as he reaches the top.

“No one wants to leave, so let’s put them in one of those empty rooms, and we can come back for them,”
Lilly says.
“Or, you know, I can port them home and be right back.”

“Al needs…
I need to see to his wounds. I’m not sure he can port.” Bertie’s whisper shakes as she strokes her husband’s arm.

Lilly sighs, long and drawn out. “I’ll stay.”

“But Mae—”
Will begins.

“No, Will. Just no,”
I say.

Won’t he give it up? I’m staying here; I’m not porting Al. I’m finding my dad. The footsteps fade off into the distance, and I glare at Will, who scowls at Jax. Jax leans against the wall without a care in the world, and Lilly smiles to herself as she pats Bertie’s hand.

Jax detaches himself from the wall and peeks around the corner. He gives us the all-clear with a raised thumb, then leads us back down the hall and to the last empty room we searched. Jax creeps into the room, and we all follow close on his heels. We enter to pitch black darkness. “Lights,” he says in a soft voice.

The lights overhead flick on. A singsong female voice which sounds like a recording from the su
bway train chimes, “Welcome to room nineteen.” The room is just like all the others—a massive bed with a fluffy white cover and furniture carved out of rich mahogany.

Will moves to the bedside. Al hangs limp in his arms, seemingly unconscious. His tilted head hits the bed first as Will sets him down. I shake my head and shoot Will a look of disbelief. Surely he didn’t stun Al.

“There was no choice, and at least he can’t feel the pain now.”
Will takes the stun mace from Lilly’s outstretched hand and shoves it into his back pocket.

Bertie goes straight to the bathroom. Clatters and soft bangs ensue. After a few minutes, she emerges with a bowl of steaming water and a fluffy white face towel.

“If something happens and we get split up, we need somewhere to meet,”
Will says.

“Good idea,”
I say.
“We’ll have to come back for you, Lilly, unless Al’s stable enough to port after you check him out.”

Jax leans against the door with his foot up on the wall, retying his long boot laces.

“What about the place in the park where we armed up?”
I spin my wrist over and look to my watch. It’s nearing five o’clock. Not much longer and it will be dark outside. Have we been here that long? I glance at my friends.
“Eight?”

Will and Lilly both nod, but Jax remains intent on his laces. Didn’t he hear me speak? Maybe his telcom stopped working.

“Jax.”

He raises his head, and his eyes meet mine, crinkling at the corners. He shoots me a crooked smile.
“Sure.”

Hmm, seems it was working. I suck my lip in to brace against the heavy lump sitting in the base of my stomach. I take three steps to the door, reach toward the handle, then turn back and exchange a look with Lilly. Leaving her here protecting two injured people seems like a bad move, but no one else has volunteered to port or stay, and taking them with us is a stupid idea. It just wouldn’t work.

“We’ll be okay,”
she says, but I don’t buy it.

I push my hand up under the protect-its sleeve and rip off the port bands, tossing them to her.
“Just in case.”

“Thanks.”

I pull the door closed. Jax and Will creep down the empty hall before me. There’s not much for cover—a large potted plant, an empty room. No pillars, no statues. It’s less painful to move now that we’re on a flat surface, but my leg still throbs with each step. Slowly, we make our way to the section we’ve not yet searched.

“This place is massive,”
I say.

“We’ve passed at least a dozen rooms just in this hall,”
Will says.

The fast shuffle of someone moving down the hall makes me spin.
“Someone—”

A hand closes around my forearm, and I’m pulled into a dark room. My heart whacks my ribs as I stumble, lose my balance, and almost fall. Pain screams in my leg. Steady arms wrap around my waist, holding me upright. A white T-shirt sits snug across a toned chest, the supple leather of his jacket cool against my skin. I look up at Jax, and his gaze rests on my bandage where bright fresh blood seeps through. His widened eyes meet mine.

I look away. He’ll side with Will. They’ll send me home. No way, I won’t let them.

Will glares daggers at me from the other side of the door.
“She can stand on her own.”
He throws each word at Jax like they’re daggers too.