Page 27 of Agent Zero
“I want to go home.”
He winced inwardly.“I know.”
“I want to sleep.”A breath of petulance.Well, she’d had a hard day, right?
Understatement of the year, Reese.“You can’t yet.Until I know you’ll wake up.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”Don’t ask me why.Not clear on that myself.Oh, but he was.Lying to himself about it, though.“Let’s get you into the car, Holly.You can rest, but you can’t sleep yet.”
Unfortunately, she wasn’t listening.She’d passed out, and he still had the beacon tucked in his cheek like a chipmunk’s prize.
“Damn,” he muttered, with feeling, and carried her to the car.
EIGHTEEN
The dreams were awful.The medical office, with Dr.Gregory’s salt-and-pepper beard moving as he told her,No need for a lot of concern, we just want to make sure.Arriving home, sitting in the car for a moment, bracing herself for telling Phillip...walking in, and seeing his set face.
For a split second she’d thought he already knew, then at the kitchen table he told her,I want a divorce, Holl, as calmly as someone else might say,It’s sunny out today.She hadn’t even set her car keys down or taken her coat off.Then sitting in the courtroom, hearing her divorce proclaimed final, seeing Phillip hand in hand withher—the blonde, bubbly med-school student, one of his classmates.
All those study dates, and Holly working two jobs to see him through school.
Her lawyer, pale with professional frustration—why won’t you fight?You can have alimony, the judge will practically throw it at you!Not wanting to explain—it didn’t matter, she would be dead soon anyway, why make more trouble for anyone?
Faces warping, her nylons running, looking down to realize she was naked, then the dreams were less memory and more nightmare.Running through dark corridors, hearing the woman’s soft, inflectionless voice.Collateral.And the tenor.Put her back.
Someone talking to her.Her hand in a warm, strong grip, a cool washcloth against her forehead.“It’s all right.I’m here.”
The realization that she was probably sick calmed her somewhat.Holly woke in stages, thoughts swirling, settling, finally making sense.Am I in the hospital?Fever dreams, maybe.Wow.That’s unpleasant.Did I collapse?What happened?
Who knows I’m sick now?God.
She ached pretty much all over.The sheets were damp, and she was in a T-shirt.Which meant maybe not a hospital.
Was it a hangover?Or had she buckled, her body finally deciding whatever was growing inside was too much to work past?She hadn’t felt any different that morning, but that was life.
It always bit when you weren’t looking.
The jumbled pieces in her memory refused to jell together.The last thing she was sure of was walking down the street toward a coffee date with Reese.
No, wait.Something about a van.
Was I run over?How ironic would that be?
“Welcome back.”His face loomed over hers, and she blinked rapidly.Her throat was cotton-dry, producing only a little croak of surprise.It was indeed Reese, dark-eyed and too big for the suddenly crowded space.There was a slice of white ceiling behind him.It wasn’t her apartment, and for a second she was confused at the relief she felt.“Take it easy.Here.”
What the hell?
His arm under her shoulders, there was a cup at her lips.She drank, gratefully—mineral-tasting tap water, tepid, with a side of chlorine.Her nose wrinkled, but she was so thirsty.Reese took it away before she’d had enough, but after a moment or two her stomach rumbled and she was glad.Any more and she’d likely spew it right back out.
“You’re out of the woods.”He looked a little tired, faint circles under his dark eyes and his stubble apparently having a field day.Looked like hadn’t shaved in a day or two, and his T-shirt was rumpled, damp under his arms.“Whatever they dosed you with is out of your system.”
“Reese?”Someone roofied me?“What.The hell.”She licked her cracked lips, wished she hadn’t, because his gaze dropped to her mouth.“Where?—”
“We’re in a hotel.Safe for the moment.”
For the moment?Her brain kicked into gear, everything inside her skull suddenly functioning the way it should.“For the moment?”
