Page 16 of Unchained

Sorrow brought him to his knees. He sniffled deep and loud, the sound opening the cavern of devastation in his chest. Touching his fingers to the blades of grass at his knees, he closed his eyes. Part of him wanted to die right here. To stop them from finding him. He wanted to let go of the anger and the ugly hatred, move on with his newfound freedom, but it wasn’t that fucking simple. The wings of panic battered away the pain. They’d find him. They’d turn over every rock to get him back into that fucking lab, to the metal table and restraints, the highs and the sedation, the documentation and the evaluation.

Over my dead body.

He made a silent vow. He’d never go back there alive.

CHAPTER 6

Camryn stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around her body, tucking the end between her breasts. Her hair waved over her shoulders and dripped water onto her skin, making her miss the scorching shower even more. Steam clouded the bathroom, and when she opened the door the hall was consumed by a cloud of warm mist. A hot shower had been just what she needed. A break from worrying about the sexy, abused patient. She sighed. Before leaving the parking lot she’d examined the darkness, looking—hoping?—to find Brooks. Where would he go? Would he have withdrawal symptoms soon? She should have given him a ride somewhere, at least made sure he had a decent meal. If they mentioned his dead body on the twelve o’clock news, she’d feel horrible.

She padded to the bedroom. Maybe she’d go for a drive. Surely he hadn’t gone far yet. She needed food, but that would have to wait. Her stomach churned like a turbulent ocean. She wouldn’t be able to keep a bite down. She’d make a tea to go, to tide her over. When she got back, she had to pack her bag. She couldn’t stay here. Jen would wake up in the morning and all hell would break loose. Dr. Leonetti would know she’d helped Brooks escape. She’d face serious charges if she didn’t get out of dodge.

She stepped into lilac-colored pajama shorts and a white tank top. In the kitchen, she filled the kettle with fresh water then placed it on the burner, turning it on. She reached into the cupboard, pulled down a travel mug, and dropped a tea bag in.

Creak

She froze and turned her gaze toward the hallway leading to the back door. The screen door needed oil, and had she cared about it being quiet, she’d have greased it. She rubbed her palm on the material covering her abdomen and creeped toward the door. She stopped and stared at the unmoving wooden backdoor.

Just the wind. She’d have to latch the door so it wouldn’t squeak.

A soft rustle stopped her in her tracks. Her pulse raced in her ears, making it harder to train her senses on the door. She lowered her gaze to the gold-finished handle as it turned back, and then forth.

She snapped her head toward the kitchen. Her feet stuck to the spot as if she’d grown roots. She needed a weapon. She had a gun in her bedroom, but she wouldn’t have time to retrieve and load it. The flimsy door jerked.

Someone’s trying to get in.

Her legs vibrated with the need to take flight. She swung her gaze to the hall closet behind the back door.

Inside was a baseball bat that had belonged to the previous renter. The door handle moved more feverishly. Indignation built inside her. If Isaac had found her and was breaking into her house, she wouldn’t be forgiving. He’d tried to kill her once, and she’d been unarmed. Her mind instantly went to the not-yet-healed scar above her breast. No. That wasn’t going to happen again. She reached into the back of the closet, and her hand circled the baseball bat’s smooth wood handle. The fact that she had to do this after the ordeal at work made her blood boil even more. Could it be someone from the lab? No. They wouldn’t have gotten to her so quickly, and surely they would have tried calling if they needed to speak to her.

Damn the old back door for not having a peephole. She flicked on the light and the rattling stopped. Holding the bat in her hand, she unlocked the door and yanked it open. Then, gripping the bat in both hands, she swung. It stopped midair as if it’d hit a brick wall. She stared at the hand holding the thickest part of the bat.

Her breath left her lungs.

Pale-green scrubs filled her vision. The short-sleeved shirt tapered to a familiar trim waist. The tattooed-covered skin made his identity undeniable. She gripped the handle until the skin on her knuckles threatened to crack. “W-What are you doing here?” Fear froze her arms in position.

He lifted a shoulder. A hesitant grin moved the edge of his mouth. “Hey.”

She hiked up her eyebrows. “Hey?” She jerked the bat, and he let go without fight. She flattened her palm against her breastbone, searing the thin material of her tank in place and reminding her she wore no bra to conceal the outlines of her nipples. Indignation warred with the heat of embarrassment. “What the hell are you doing here? You followed me? You’re trying to break into my house?” Her voice rose with each question.

He lowered his gaze to the threshold. She followed his line of vision, and her gaze stopped on his bare feet. A torrent of pity filled her.

“Yes, I followed you. Only because I need help.” The last sentence was spoken an octave lower, as if it pained him to admit he needed assistance.

She lowered her palm to the inside of the door. Part of her wanted to tell him to go away. When the hospital came looking for him, they’d bring the police. No one would believe his story. She sure as hell wouldn’t have if she hadn’t witnessed his living conditions and the twelfth floor.

The problem was, she couldn’t go to the cops. If she was registered in the system as a witness to a crime, Isaac would find her. Even though he wasn’t a police officer anymore, he still had connections.

She wet her lips. The kettle whistled, and the screaming sound made her jump.

Brooks lowered his gaze to the bat. “Do you always answer the door with a weapon?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Only when visitors come to my back door at night.”

He chuckled. The low, gruff sound tickled her senses. “Can I come in?”

“You mean since you couldn’t bust open the lock?”

He tipped his chin. “I could have busted that cheap lock in a second. I knocked about five minutes ago, then tried the door handle.” A somber look took over his face. “Do you want me to leave?”

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