The Girl Who Broke Free (Death Fields 5)

He nods.

“I think,” I say, trying to judge his temperament while also glancing quickly at the two-way mirror. Usually if he has a line between his eyes it means he’s thinking and not just running on adrenaline and action. The line is there but another, vague emotion lurks in his eyes. “I think your sister knows we are dangerous together. That our bond goes beyond genetic modification and war zones. Keeping us apart isn’t enough for her. She wants to break us both.”

His hands push into his hair, forcing it up in a curly mess. “She told me you’d try to blame her for your deceit.”

“There’s enough blame in this world to go around, Cole. None of us are innocent.” I take a deep breath, sure that I’m close to passing out. “We used to care for one another. We made promises to each other—to keep

each other safe.”

He looks at me accusingly, lips curled. “That was before you left me for him.”

Him.

“No,” I whisper, know this is more of Chloe’s lies. “You sent Wyatt to me. To warn me. You knew Chloe needed to be stopped.”

He blinks. “Because I loved you.”

I don’t know if he understands what that word means. “You wanted to do the right thing. It doesn’t matter. Wyatt’s dead. We’re prisoners. The world is still occupied by rabid monsters and your sister is a sociopath.”

We stare at one another. His mind fluctuates between lucid and unstable. What Chloe does to him when he’s away from me is a mystery but it can’t be good. I reach my hand out to him and he looks at it, like he’s determining if it’s real. Slowly he wraps his hand around mine and when he looks back up his eyes are cold and calculating. He stands, jerking me with him, and I rise to my feet with a pain-filled cry.

“No!” I grip my side but it feels like my ribs have broken in two and pain sears through my body. My cries don’t stop when Cole slams me hard against the padded wall. My head cracks and my teeth rattle together and I fall to my knees. The last thing I see is his foot aiming at my injured side and the feeling of the impact—like a grenade exploded against my ribs. I blink, trying to see his face, trying to understand, but my vision blurs and the world goes black.

Chapter Three

I wake, for the first time in months, in a different bed. Daylight glares into the room and when I try to shade my eyes, my hands don’t move. I squirm but regret that immediately, feeling the sharp, familiar pain in my side. I hear a scratching sound and twist my head toward the direction of the noise, blinking several times, wondering if I’m in a dream.

Jane sits at a desk nearby, pencil working out some problem on a notepad. She’s thin and pale but her dark hair looks tidy, tied back in a modest ponytail. I’d guess she looks like she’s aged three years in the few months we’ve been separated.

“Jane?” I ask when I realize she may actually be here. My voice comes out dry and raw. She looks up from the notepad on her lap and jumps out of her seat. I explode in a series of dry coughs, fighting to stop before I pass out from the pain.

“Alexandra!” She rushes toward me with a small cup of water. I strain to lift my head with my wrists bound, but she presses a gentle hand behind my neck. “Here, drink this.”

“Thank you,” I gasp, feeling half the water dribble down my chin. It’s not the only water on my face. Tears stream uncontrollably down my cheeks. “It’s so good to see you.”

She leans over and gives me the first hug we’ve shared in years. Her elbow digs into my sore ribs but I don’t care. It just feels good to have someone to cling to, even if it’s awkward and uncomfortable. I take a sharp breath and she pulls away quickly, wiping the tears off her own face.

We smile at one another, a little embarrassed at the overt display of emotion. It took the end of civilization to make us appreciate one another.

“I’d release your arms but I’m under instruction to keep you bound at all times,” she says. She does fold up a small blanket and position it under my head so I can see better. “I don’t want to give them any excuse to take you out of here.”

“I figured, although I’m shocked they even brought me to get help. Where are we anyway?” I ask.

“In my lab.”

“You have a lab?”

“Well, I call it that. It’s the college infirmary with an adequate microscope collection I swiped from the biology department and everything I could use from the chemistry labs.”

“So you’ve made yourself at home.” I laugh, then grimace, immediately regretting it. “So what’s the status on my ribs?”

“Healing. It will take a while for them to feel better. I don’t think there was any major internal bleeding.” She scrunches her nose and presses against the bandaged area. “Obviously it’s still tender. You’ll need to be cautious for a while.”

“I don’t have a lot of control over my life lately. Like I said, I’m surprised the guards brought me here.”

“He didn’t give them much choice,” she says, offering me another sip of water. This time I manage to keep most of it in my mouth.

“He?”