Run To Me (Lazarus Rising #4)(44)

When she went back into the bedroom, Cecelia and Flynn were still there.

Flynn…hadn’t she attacked him the night before? The memory was foggy. Distorted. “Maybe I was kept away from the others because I was the threat.” Her arms wrapped around her stomach.

Cecelia padded closer to her, and Flynn was right beside his mate.

Mate. Such a primitive word. But that’s what the test subjects were all about. Primitive responses. Primitive instincts. Willow certainly felt a powerful instinct right then—to flee. “I can’t hurt Jay.”

“Willow, we need to talk things through.” Cecelia’s voice was mild. Her shrink voice. “You know I said I’d help you, and I will. We can deal with what’s happening—”

“I made love with Jay.”

Cecelia cleared her throat. A faint smile curled her lips as she glanced at the bed. “Yes, I sort of figured that out—”

“I’ve had dreams of a man telling me that we belonged together. A man who said he wasn’t letting me go.” Her temples ached as she thought of him. “I couldn’t see him. Not clearly. Was that someone from my past?”

“Willow—”

“Then I just had a vision of myself, killing Jay. We were in bed together, and I killed him.”

Sympathy flashed on Cecelia’s face. “You aren’t going to kill him. Jay trusts you.” That was the problem. Now her stare slid to Flynn’s. He would understand. “Maybe he shouldn’t.” Her tongue swiped over her dry lips. “Don’t chase me.”

“I don’t understand—” Cecelia began.

But Willow had already leapt for the window. She knew what was inside of herself. The twisting, yawning darkness. The raw emotions that had erupted when she’d become Jay’s lover. She felt wrong inside. Too much rage. Too much confusion.

And the image she’d had…the terrible vision of Jay dying, she knew what it was—

Her worst fear. If she stayed with him, it would come true. Because she was the biggest threat to him.

Before she could get to the window, Flynn stepped into her path. He let out a long sigh. “You know I can’t let you do this.”

“Let?” Willow repeated carefully. Her hands flexed at her sides. “Last time I checked, Jay said I wasn’t a prisoner here. You all said that.”

“That was before…” Flynn’s shoulders were straight, his hard gaze locked on her. “Before we realized Wyman had a trigger word for you, before his men swarmed this house.”

Flynn doesn’t trust me. Neither does Cecelia. “Step aside, Flynn.” She wasn’t staying. She had to leave.

“I want to know more about the first dream,” Cecelia said suddenly. “The dream of the man who said you belonged to him.”

What? Now?

“How did that make you feel when he said those words?”

Seriously—Cecelia was always focused on the feelings. “Absolutely terrified.” Dead truth. Her stare never wavered from Flynn. “I don’t want to hurt you. But I am leaving.”

“Willow…” He growled her name.

Cecelia put her hand on his shoulder. “She’s not a prisoner.”

Flynn’s head turned toward her. “You’re gonna let her just go?”

“I know when a woman’s running scared.” She inclined her head toward Willow. “But you aren’t going to find what you need by running, Willow.”

She inched toward the window. Stared down below. “You don’t know what I need.”

“Of course, I do.” Cecelia’s words were crisp. “And when you’re ready to hear what I have to say, come back.”

She wasn’t going to stop her? Really? “Jay is going to lose his shit,” Flynn muttered.

Willow flinched. Yes, he was. He was going to freak out, but there was something inside of her, something screaming that she had to leave. Had to go.

Before it was too late, for Jay.

“Tell him that I’m sorry.” She reached for the window.

“Don’t jump out,” Flynn snapped. “You’re not busting out on some desperate escape. Go down the stairs. Use the front door.”

She wanted to do that. Wanted to be normal but…

“She doesn’t trust us,” Cecelia said, and there was a faint shock in her words. “She doesn’t trust any of us.”

No, Willow didn’t. She was afraid the others downstairs would try to lock her up. So she didn’t hesitate any longer. She burst through the window. Flew through the air and touched down easily even as glass littered the ground around her.

Adrenaline drove her. Fear drove her. Darkness and rage. The emotions were so thick inside of her. Swirling. And she just had to run. Had to get away.

Before madness overtook her.

Then again, maybe it was already too late.

***

The machines droned in a steady beep, beep, beep as Jay stalked into the hospital room. Guards were stationed outside, and he wasn’t particularly surprised to find Sawyer sitting in a chair near the bed, his sharp blue gaze on the patient.

Wyman freaking Wright.

“Guess who’s going to live,” Sawyer muttered without taking his attention off the man in that bed. “For the time being, anyway.”