Rush (Phoenix Rising) (14 page)

Jessica had her hand wrapped around Quaid’s dangling wrist, her fingers on his pulse. The feel of his blood beating steadily through his veins was the only thing that kept her calm. She searched for Alyssa and found her standing off to the side, one hand around Kat’s shoulders, holding the exhausted girl to her side, the other pressed to her big belly.

“Alyssa?”

Her friend’s response was slower than usual, the turn of her head too languid, the look in her eyes too glassy. Jessica stepped in that direction and her hand tugged against Quaid’s wrist. She glanced between them, torn.

“Go,” Kai said. “I’ve got him.”

Jessica took in the sight of Quaid limp over Kai’s shoulder and swallowed the knot in her throat. She rubbed her hand over his prickly hair again before going to Alyssa. Jessica crouched in front of Kat. Finding the girl asleep on her feet, Jessica lifted Kat into her arms.

“Lys, you need to sit down. Let’s go over to that boulder, get you off your feet.”

Alyssa shook her head and propped her shoulder against a tree. “If I sit down now, I’ll never get up. I’m okay for a few more minutes.”

At the barn, Teague and Cash pushed aside one door, Mitch and Luke the other.

The sight of them made her remember the four military men who’d been with them since the rescue. “Where are those other guys?”

“Forming a secure perimeter,” Alyssa said, rubbing her belly with a wince.

Jessica repositioned Kat’s slumping weight in her arms. “Alyssa, tell me you’re not having labor pains. Please.”

She let out a tired laugh. “No. He’s kicking me in the ribs. Little shit.”

Jessica laughed. “It’s so funny to hear you swear.”

“If you can’t beat ’em . . .” Alyssa grinned. “I’ll add money to the jar in the morning. Word of advice, Jess. Don’t make a baby in a wine closet. They’re a little . . . wild.”

Jessica’s smile widened. Her brows rose. “Wine closet, huh? I want that story.” Jessica turned to check on Quaid. He still lay as limply over Kai’s shoulder as Kat in Jessica’s arms. “And honestly, Lys, if I ever get the chance to make a baby with Quaid, I’ll make one however, whenever and where ever I can. Waiting to get pregnant is one of my greatest regrets.”

Jessica looked toward the barn. Only the barn wasn’t a barn. Not really. The guys had pushed the doors back to reveal the concrete brick walls of a massive building with another set of heavy metal doors beneath.

“What the hell?” Jessica asked.

“It’s a bunker,” Alyssa said. “I haven’t had time to sit down and grill Mitch on what this is all about, but his work has given him not only endlessly grateful and generous contacts who have amazing resources and skills, but these contacts also seem . . . ” She paused to consider. “At one time I would have called them paranoid. Extremists. But with everything that’s happened to us and as often as these paranoid extremists have saved someone’s ass on this team or come to Mitch’s aid . . . Honestly, the larger ramifications are starting to scare the hell out of me.”

Jessica tightened her arms around Kat. “Is your house going to be okay?”

Alyssa nodded, watching the guys work on the locks along the metal doors. “Teague, Luke and Mitch set up an elaborate security system complete with booby traps. We’ve got neighbors watching it, a few friends in the police department doing drive-bys. A few of Teague and Luke’s ATF coworkers are keeping an eye on it. We’ve got insurance. I’m not worried about the house.”

She turned her gaze on Jessica, those gorgeous amber eyes serious. “I
am
worried about Quaid. And I’m worried about you.”

Alyssa’s directness was nothing new, but it had never been so completely focused on Jessica. And never on such a painful subject at such a vulnerable time.

Jessica forced a smile. “You’re not the only one.”

“Has Keira talked to you about Mateo? About the chips in his brain?”

Shock unhinged Jessica’s jaw.

“Obviously not,” Alyssa said. “We can talk about this in depth tomorrow, after you’ve had some sleep. For now, I just want you to consider hypnotherapy for Quaid.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with Mateo and brain chips . . . ?”

“When we got Mateo back, we discovered he had a tracking chip in his neck, which was why they looked for one—and found it—in Quaid.”

Jessica nodded, her stomach turning a little when she remembered Alyssa removing the chip from Quaid’s arm earlier in the night.

“Mateo’s chip was different. It was also a type of computer interface, a control chip, if you will, that connected many other chips, which are still imbedded in his brain tissue. That’s where Seth is, tracking down information on these chips. Teague searched for those in Quaid when he did the exam and didn’t find any. But the scars on Quaid’s head and the fact that Teague senses a mismatch or scrambling of sorts in Quaid’s brain makes me think they may have attempted to use them. Maybe they didn’t work and they were removed. I don’t know.

“Because of what’s happened with Mateo, I’ve done a lot of advanced research on the brain. I’ve also been consulting with a psychiatrist who specializes in hypnotherapy. When we learned of Q, I proposed a hypothetical situation to this doctor to gain some insight into how we might best help him once we had him.”

Jessica waited. Found herself leaning forward in anticipation. But Alyssa’s expression had grown increasingly tight, and now she glanced away, toward the bunker, lips pressed tight.

“And?”

She took a deep breath of the cold night air, winced and rubbed at her belly near her ribs again. “Trauma victims are unpredictable. Those with more severe trauma and longer exposure have, understandably, the lowest success of recovery. Now—” Alyssa held a hand out, silently asking Jessica not to panic, but her heart rate was already rising. “Mitch said almost these exact same things to me about Teague’s chance of recovering from his time in prison. And Teague’s a perfect example of how resilient human beings can be. So I don’t want you to lose hope, but I do want us to approach Quaid’s recovery carefully.”

“Okay.” Jessica tried to slow her breath. “Fine.”

“It probably won’t feel fine. Because the best form of recovery is slow. The best form of recovery is one Quaid brings on himself. In fact, telling him of his past before his mind is capable of adjusting has the potential of shocking his brain into shutdown, and can actually do more harm than good.”

Jessica’s mind was spinning fast, processing the information, imagining scenarios and what-ifs. When Alyssa didn’t go on, she said, “So, what does that mean? For when he wakes up, I mean. If Cash is right, and Quaid has no memory from before his time at the Castle, he’s going to want to know who the hell we all are. He’s going to want to know how this all happened. How do we handle that?”

“Slowly, with a lot of finesse.”

A new tightness squeezed Jessica’s chest. “Are you saying . . . ?” No, she couldn’t be saying . . . “That if he doesn’t remember me, I can’t tell him I’m his wife?”

“I’m saying it would be best to wait and see how he handles the smaller pieces of information he needs before we give him the bigger, more emotionally charged ones.

“You need to remember, the loss of memory isn’t the only major issue he’s going to be facing, Jess. He’s used to living alone, being treated badly, ignored, pushed around, abused. We’ll have to see how he adjusts to being here with all of us. How he adjusts to sounds, schedules, food. How much stimulation he can handle before it’s too much. What physical issues come about—headaches, pain.... He has a lot of adjustment in his future. For him, it would be best to limit the information we share until he’s ready to receive it.”

“You know I can’t lie, Alyssa.” Truth was the foundation of Jessica’s rehab—of all addicts’ and alcoholics’ rehab. And at this point, it felt as if the truth was the only rule of rehab she hadn’t broken. “I especially can’t lie to him. I’ve already broken every good habit I’ve spent the last year establishing. I just . . . I don’t know what will happen.... I can’t start lying again, too.”

“I understand, Jess. Let’s just take it one step at a time.” Alyssa gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Go on back to him. I’m fine.”

She carried Kat back to Kai and managed to position herself to hold both the girl and Quaid’s hand. And as soon as his blood pulsed beneath her fingers, relief gushed through her body. She had to maintain hope. She had to believe in Quaid the way Alyssa had believed in Teague. Yet again, she knew she wasn’t as strong as Alyssa, either.

Tears stung her eyes. She pressed them against the back of Kai’s shoulder and felt him turn to look at her.

“I’m sorry about earlier, Kai,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean—”

He turned, wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and hugged her, careful not to squish Kat, and pressed a kiss to her hair. “No. I’m sorry. I’ve been an ass, Jess. Worse than an ass. I’m going to make it up to you. Both of you.”

She wanted to say more, but everything was jumbled in her head, in her heart, and all she could get out was, “I love you.”

“Love you, too.” He pressed his cheek to her head, and squeezed her tight. “Love you so much.”

“Come on,” Mitch called. “Everyone inside. Alyssa, sit your ass on a couch and don’t even think about getting up. Jailbird,” he called to Teague, “help me move the trucks under the carport.”

The inside of the building was as simple as the outside, but with flair. Unfinished block concrete made up the walls; stained, polished slab concrete the floors and some type of slanted metal roofing created a cathedral ceiling. One large living space held several leather sofas and lounge chairs, coffee tables, side tables and lamps. It looked like the small lobby of an upscale urban hotel.

A long island separated the living and kitchen spaces, where an industrial-looking kitchen took up one corner, two wooden dining sets another. The kitchen included restaurant-sized, stainless-steel appliances and granite counters. In an alcove opposite the kitchen, a dozen flat screen monitors lined a portion of one concrete wall. Beneath those, a workstation sat covered in electronics.

“This
bunker
is nicer than my house,” Kai muttered on his way to a sofa, where he and Jessica laid Quaid on his back.

Jessica lifted Quaid’s head onto her lap and settled into the comfort of the soft sofa. Mitch and Teague returned and Mitch took the floor like a seasoned speaker, with supreme confidence and utter control. Jessica could definitely see how he would grab hold of a jury and never let go.

“Okay,” he started as everyone found seats and sprawled their tired bodies out across the furniture and each other. “The property is thirty-two acres surrounded by other multi-acre parcels, the smallest of which is eighteen acres. We have no neighbors. So if you hear or see something or someone, that’s a problem. The property is surrounded with electric fencing. My guys are out patrolling the perimeter now. One of those guys, Brody, is the owner of said property, so if we have problems, we’ve got the expert on site.

“That,” he pointed to the corner with the monitors and electronics, “is the brain of the security system. That brain will keep us
alive
. If you’re better with people than you are with electronics . . .” He drew out the last word, staring pointedly at his sister. “Leave. It. Alone.”

“Ha, ha,” Alyssa said, from where she sat with her head on Teague’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, babe,” Teague said, kissing her forehead. “I’m glad you’re better with people.”

“The roofs of all the buildings are covered in a material that hinders infrared detection. There are several scramblers distributed throughout the property centered near the bunker to interfere with cell phone and Internet tracking. That
does not
mean we can use these electronics casually.”

“Meaning,” Kai said, “your three-hundred-and-two girlfriends will have to suffer without hearing your voice for a few days.”

Mitch gave him a heavy-lidded, long-suffering look. “There are thirty-six video cameras set up around the property and the house. They have a rotating image display on those monitors—”

“Waaaaait a minute,” Luke said. “Exactly
where
are these cameras? None in the bedrooms, right?”

Mitch let his hands fall and slap against his jean-covered thighs. “Can’t you guys think about anything other than sex?” He put his hands out wide as if eliciting a response. “
Any
thing?”

A grin lifted Luke’s mouth and he looked down at Keira. “Someone sounds jealous.”

“The day I’m jealous of your sex life, Ransom—no offense, Keira, you know I think you’re totally smokin’—just put me in the ground.”

“No offense taken,” Keira said, grinning back at Luke. “I happen to be damn impressed with Ransom’s sex life.”

“And can we get on with this,” Alyssa said, “so some of us can
have
a sex life?”

The room filled with a shocked silence and everyone turned and looked at her.

Her head came off Teague’s shoulder. “What? I’m pregnant, not dead.” She gestured toward Teague with both hands. “Do you not see this fine specimen of man sitting here?”

Everyone laughed. Teague tipped her head back and kissed her on the mouth.

Mitch, the drama queen, slapped a hand over his face and stumbled back a few steps. “It burns. It burns!”

Everyone laughed harder, and the kids slept through it all.

Jessica’s spirits rebounded. She looked down at Quaid and ran her thumb over his lips. He looked so obviously like her Quaid now, she couldn’t imagine how she’d denied it before.

“The refrigerator is stocked and there are linens in the closets,” Mitch said. “The bedrooms are down that hall. Save the two at the end near the other door for Brody’s guys. Now go, you heathens, get out of here. We’ll unload the trucks and try this again in the morning when we can all think straight.” He pointed at Kai. “Not you, sucker. You don’t have a girl or a kid. You and I are setting up and testing this electronic masterpiece.”