Avenged (Altered #2)(64)

But before he could be certain he’d destroyed it all, something hit him with the force of a Mack truck. The blow left his ears ringing and sent the suitcase flying out of his arms.

It wasn’t a truck. It was Jack. The punch he threw sent Luke sailing backward along the helicopter pad.

His ears still ringing, he shook his head, trying to clear his vision. He needed to see if he had any chance of stopping him.

A kick landed on his side, stealing his breath. He closed his eyes, gasping, fighting through the pain, fighting to stand. Damn it, he needed to see.

He braced himself for the next attack, but there wasn’t one. Rolling to his feet, he coughed and staggered.

In front of him, Jack rifled through the destroyed suitcase on the ground. He pulled a flash drive from the mess of it and rejoined Parker, but not before he waved the drive at Luke with a mocking salute. Then, he placed the drive in Parker’s hand.

Behind them, the Black Hawk’s propellers accelerated. Luke started toward them, to follow them. He only made it a couple of steps before he was paralyzed.

“There was no way to stop this,” Parker shouted over the whir of the propellers. “Pandora’s box is open, Mr. Kincaid. The information is on these drives, on Fields’s computers, and now in the hands of the military.” He tapped the drive in his hand. “If you think there’s a way to contain that, you are more naive than I believed.”

He followed Jack into the side of one of the Black Hawks they’d arrived in. His voice echoed through Luke’s head.

A shame we couldn’t agree on this. Perhaps we’ll see each other again.

Luke fought against the invisible vise that held him, but he couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t move, couldn’t devise a logical counterattack. Every time he gathered his twisting brain to fight back, his thoughts scrambled again.

Good-bye, Mr. Kincaid. In the helicopter in front of him, so close yet so far out of Luke’s reach, Parker offered him a solemn wave.

Luke was forced to watch the helicopter retreat, until the aircraft was too far away for him to see.

His faculties returned to him in a rush.

He stumbled to his knees. Flopping to his butt, he sat amidst what remained of the huge stash of Solvimine. It was splashed against the gravel along with broken glass vials and stoppers. He’d destroyed most of the drug. But when he sifted through the debris, cutting himself on the shards, he couldn’t find any other evidence of Fields’s research.

He stared after Parker and Jack. It was gone with them now.

Around him, the scene had stabilized. The last of Fields’s men were being contained, rounded up. He watched as four armed men escorted Jeremy, Nick’s old roommate, into a waiting helicopter.

They’d won this round. But while he’d once hoped they could stop the drug, destroy it and reverse the damage that had started months ago in his miniscule hometown in Colorado, now he realized that was impossible.

Parker was right. Things couldn’t be unlearned or undone. Fields had messed with things he shouldn’t have messed with, started a chain reaction that Luke was a part of now.

The Army was here, at Fields’s compound. Between what they found here, and the information Luke had already given them, it would only be a matter of time before the drug was fully understood. That much was inevitable now.

Parker was wrong about one thing.

If he thought he could start a revolution without anyone standing in his way, he was mistaken.

…

Something tickled Kitty’s nose.

Her eyelids were heavy, and the pillow under her cheek was soft. She rubbed against it. Her back hurt. As she stretched, she noticed more aches—her shoulder, her hip. Her right leg was asleep, too. She groaned, moving again, trying to ease the stiffness.

Didn’t work. Her eyes opened. The hospital room around her was darkened. Not dark, because hospitals were never completely dark. But dimmed. The window next to her framed a night sky.

That’s right. The hospital. She’d refused to leave Nick’s side.

She must have fallen asleep, though. After only managing a few hours of rest in a chair over the past two days, that didn’t surprise her.

She rubbed her eyes and met Nick’s amused grin. She sat up straighter. “You’re awake.”

He laughed. “Yes, Florence Nightingale. Awake.”

That smile…it sucked the air out of her chest. For twenty-four hours, she’d watched him struggle for his life. But he was alive. Awake. She jumped forward, onto the hospital bed and into his embrace.

He caught her against him with one arm. “Oomph, babe. Take it easy. I feel like I’ve been shot.”

“Sorry,” she added, scurrying back.

He growled. “I said be careful, not get off.”

She chuckled and moved back into his arms. This time, she sat next to him on the bed, being careful of his leg. He folded her against him.

“How long have I been out?” He grumbled his question against her cheek.

“Two days.” Two of the longest days of her life. “The bullet nicked your femoral artery. You lost a lot of blood.” She squeezed his hand. “The medics arrived right after that. Thank God. Or…” She left the rest unspoken because she couldn’t put into words yet how terrified she’d been, watching the blood pulse out of him.

He squeezed her fingers back. “I’m so sorry.” He didn’t continue out loud but went on in his head. I’m sorry she had to go through this, had to worry about me. I should be the one watching over her, but once again here she was, watching over me.