Protect Me (8 page)

And how
lost she already must be, because in spite of everything, she didn’t want to
fail it.

With
her eyes on the test tube in his hand, Hope slowly stretched out her arm toward
Rick.

CHAPTER FIVE

His
expression went blank with shock and his fingers didn’t even grip her wrist
when she set it against his palm. She pushed a little, reminding him.

“What…
are you crazy?” Rick managed to ask, emotions flitting across his face too
quickly to track - shock, awe, fear, and others she didn’t bother to catalogue.

Hope
shrugged and flashed him a quick, wry grin. It was probably a bad sign that she
felt more alive, more interested than she had in ages. This odd, fascinating
man was standing with her, staring with his mouth open in horror, his palm a
gentle warmth against her skin, and she was about to do something crazily
stupid. She felt reckless and invincible, and ready to test that theory.

“My
life’s my own,” she said. “You asked me to trust you. I am.”

Rick
pulled his hand out from underneath her so fast it almost burned. He placed the
test tube gently into a container on the counter and when his hands were free,
he slammed the heels of his hands into the edge of the counter, dipping his
head low for a second.

“Jesus
Christ,” he said in a low voice. “And I thought you were supposed to be the
sensible one. Please tell me you don’t just let mad scientists experiment - you
aren’t this careless - please tell me this whole suicidal thing is a recent
phenomenon.”

That
small smile was still tugging at the corners of her lips. Hope moved closer,
crowding up to Rick like they were partners at a lab table. She aligned their
shoulders and hips into a long line of mingled heat but forbore actually
touching him.

“Don’t
ask me for things you don’t actually want,” she said. Rick tilted his face
toward her without actually looking at her. Adrenaline sharpened her vision:
Hope realized now that she wanted to take advantage of his distraction to study
the curve of his neck and the way his collarbone angled out from underneath his
open collar. She traced her gaze up and down his face, seeing the indecision
and distrust that was usually safely masked by his startling attractiveness.

Rick
gritted his teeth and continued to stare at the test tube on the counter in
front of him like it would give him the answers he needed.

“All I
wanted was for you to stay in the library. I didn’t want to get you involved. I
just needed… insurance. That’s all. In case anything really bad happened, I’d
have enough time to destroy my work, or if it came down to it - ” He pulled up
short and blinked.

The
surety of her blissful adrenaline buzz slipped; Hope gaped at him.

“Sorry,
but am I - was I supposed to be…. Your insurance
suicide policy
?” she
demanded. When Rick didn’t answer, she felt a layer of ice settle somewhere
deep in the pit of her stomach. “That is - that is so beyond - you can’t
actually do that to people.”

At
that, Rick reared back from the counter and glared at her, turning the full
force of his dark eyes on her. Hope wished he looked like a mad scientist. He
looked more like a tragic Byronic hero, even now.

“Why
not? If it’s necessary.”

Hope’s
fingernails bit into her palms. She shouldn’t have taken the bait but she found
herself turning to meet him dead on. She felt like throwing things, a wild and
loose-limbed feeling that was unfamiliar and uncomfortable.

“Because
that’s not my job. You can’t just use people, no matter how much money you
have. I am here to protect you, not to be manipulated into living with your
death on my conscience.” She hadn’t meant to sound so impassioned; she hadn’t
meant for her voice to shake, or almost break at the end there.

But it
was so, so hard to have that realization of Rick’s selfishness slamming home
like a puzzle slotting together in her head. Hope had been in combat zones so
dangerous that Navy S.E.A.L.S. clucked in sympathy over her resume, but she
still had trouble accepting this. She couldn’t just pretend that Rick’s words
were empty. She knew what it felt like to see the reality of loose-limbed
bodies sprawled over the ground, going cold.

She
could see Rick standing in front of her, and she knew exactly what it would
look like if he could force Hope into killing him. Just because she’d seen it
before didn’t mean it was easier. It meant it was real to her; it meant that
she understood it in a way Rick didn’t, couldn’t.

Hope
stared openly at the stubble on Rick’s face, at the dark hair hanging over his
eyes that needed to be trimmed, at his white knuckles, at his defensive
posture. She thought about none of that existing anymore.

She
wanted to throw up, and didn’t feel the least bit of shame, just an
overwhelming sadness.

“Why
are you looking at me like that?” Rick’s expression was caught somewhere
between anger and guilt.

It took
a moment of biting down on her tongue before Hope could trust herself to
answer.

“Because
you don’t understand what you’re asking.” She paused. “And because I do.”

Unexpectedly
Rick’s face softened and he took a step forward, not close enough that Hope
wanted to move away, but close enough that she could see her own broken
expression mirrored in his eyes.

“Look,”
he said, and heaved out a sigh. He reached up and shoved his fingers through
his hair, staring around the room. His shoulders dropped. “I don’t - I’m sorry,
okay? You’re - you’re probably right. I just… I’m on my own here, and I didn’t
know what else to do, and… You can keep a secret, right?” When he looked around
at her his expression was more like the Rick she knew; the one that laughed
easily and always looked like he was hopeful without being expectant. “I just
need to show you, to give you an idea.”

Hope
stared at him. She trusted Rick with her own life. She’d already proven that,
to herself if to nobody else, however unwise that decision might be.

But
could she trust Rick with his own life?

She
flicked her gaze up at his expectant face, his eyelashes lowered and his
expression serious. Her gut clenched. As much as Hope wanted to refuse him, to
grab his arm and drag him bodily upstairs,that wasn’t something she could do.
If she insisted on autonomy over her life, then she couldn’t be a hypocrite. No
matter how tempting it was.

Hope
inclined her head and watched Rick’s eyes light up.

“If
it’s truly that dangerous, you should get rid of it. But show me,” she said.

As if
he’d been holding his breath and waiting, Rick snatched up a wrapped razor on
the counter. Hope forced herself not to react other than a slight widening of
her eyes.

“Don’t
freak out,” Rick said wryly.

Then he
turned his arm to expose the vulnerable underside of his forearm, and slashed a
bright red line down its length.

Hope
made a sudden, horrified movement that went nowhere. “What are you doing?” she
breathed.

She
wasn’t sure if she was comforted or not when Rick grimaced in pain. He held up
a finger.

“Wait,”
he said. “Trust me, I’m not doing this recreationally.”

He
reached for the test tube lying on the counter in front of him. There was time
for Hope to catch a quick glimpse of the small amount of clear liquid inside.
Rick flicked a finger against the glass before angling it carefully over his arm.

“Watch,”
he said, and then poured the contents of the vial over the length of his arm.

Hope
watched, uncomprehending, as he dripped the liquid across the cut - which was
shallow, thankfully. It looked like he was putting water on it, which probably
wouldn’t hurt him, but wouldn’t do much good either.

She
followed his movement to the base of his elbow and then something caught her
attention above it. Hope looked back up.

The
hairs on the back of her neck raised and prickled.

“What,”
she said slowly, forcing herself to breathe steadily, not to back away, “what
is that?”

Because
right in front of her eyes Rick’s skin was… mending. There was no other word
for it. The torn flesh was knitting itself together, healing over the wound
until nothing remained but a smear of red over smooth pale skin. She watched
the bloody cut on his arm blur and vanish one inch at a time, all the way down
to the base of his elbow, until Rick’s forearm was smooth and whole again.

It was
unnatural. Hope wasn’t sure if she wanted to grab some for herself or vomit.

“You
see?” Rick said. He sounded almost breathless as he raised his head. Hope
realized that this was exciting to him. He sounded eager and demanding at once.

Just
before his eyes met hers, Hope schooled her face into something neutral. Even
now, as irrational as it was, she couldn’t quite bear to see his face fall at
her lack of enthusiasm over something that, when she thought about it, was
pretty close to a superhuman feat.

“So
this is your secret. This is what you’re hiding.” It was easier to give in to
her feet than to her gut; she allowed herself to pace back and forth, making
sure not to brush against anything. Who knew what other secrets were lurking
down here? She wanted her boots to stamp into the ground, but catlike quiet had
been trained into her over the years and she couldn’t lose it now just because
she felt like it.

“It
is,” Rick said after a long pause, in way that suggested he’d already answered
the question and doesn’t understand why he needed to repeat himself. Hope
suspected he wouldn’t have answered Trinity that way, or his yacht friends at
all. It was the little things that made you feel loved, she thought, and
wondered if she was hysterical.

“This
is… I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said honestly. “I don’t understand
why you’re hiding it. Do you want to - what, keep it only for yourself? Auction
it off to the highest bidder?”

A flash
of something very like hurt showed in Rick’s eyes before he tilted his head and
rolled his eyes, totally disdainful and apparently impervious.

“Of
course not. What would I do with the money? But it’s not cleared yet by the
FDA, and the government still hasn’t decided what to do with it, exactly. You
see, there are some… issues.”

This
was starting to sound like familiar territory. Hope gave in to impropriety and
propped her elbows up on the test table. She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“Oh God.”

“Rather,”
Rick said, disturbingly cheerful. “See, the government is worried that there
may be a risk of, shall we say… undesirable elements attempting to reverse
engineer my little invention. I’m thinking of naming the stuff Skin-It, by the
way, what do you think?”

“I
think that will make every single buyer feel like they’re getting the genuine
serial killer experience,” Hope said absently. “What do you mean, reverse
engineer it? Make their own? Does that really matter so much?” She trailed off,
uncertain. It wasn’t really her place to judge how jealously Rick guarded his
secrets (the ones she didn’t need to know).

His
gaze slipped away, toward the floor. Hair in need of a trimming fell forward to
shadow his face and Rick shifted his weight. He grabbed a pen out of his coat
pocket and clicked it a half dozen times.

“I
might have. Um.” He sounded uncertain again, which Hope was rapidly learning
was rarely a good sign. Some people you always wanted to have off balance. But
Rick wasn’t like that; if he wasn’t standing by her side then things were
probably more likely to be the worse for it. “Accidentally proved you could do
it? The government’s squirrelly about stuff like that.”

For the
life of her, Hope couldn’t understand why the US government would give a damn
about people reducing a miracle cure to its component parts. Rick looked so
uncomfortable, and she was tired. This was a lot to take in, all of it.

So she
just nodded and let it go.

“Alright,”
she said. The adrenaline was wearing off properly now, leaving her feeling
raw-edged and ragged. She resisted the urge to fidget and pulled her spine
straight instead. Rick watched her with careful eyes. “That’s… alright. Okay.
Anything else you want to tell me?”

She was
already turning away when Rick reached out and grabbed her arm.

It took
all of Hope’s self-control to whirl around without breaking the hold. She knew
that if she yanked away it would turn this moment into an ugly thing, something
darker than it was. Already she didn’t know if this was something they could
come back from.

So she
turned sharply to face Rick but took care not to jerk away. It brought them
close together, their faces scant inches apart. She searched out the light
flecks in his dark eyes as he looked at her, cautious but still honest, not
hiding his misgivings.