“Let me download all her files and you can read them at length later on,” Hunter suggested.
Good Lord. She was wasting time. She handed him the computer and he did his magic finger act, tapping, waiting, tapping, then he was silent for several minutes.
“Gwen’s condition is stable but not encouraging,” he murmured. “She had extensive surgery and is in ICU. Probably under heavy guard so no chance to talk to her.” He typed for another fifteen or so minutes, then shut down his unit and shoved it into an inside pocket on his suit jacket. He turned to disconnect the wire lead into the wall port beside her bed.
Someone tapped at the door.
She froze.
Hunter shoved the wire on the bed next to her and swung around to sit facing her. He leaned down and kissed her so passionately she forgot her reservations and reached up to clasp his shoulders. His hands wrapped her waist, holding her in his power as much as his mouth did.
Someone near the door cleared his throat.
Hunter broke away, heat blazing through his gaze. “What?” He asked that as if the wrong answer would earn someone a beheading.
“Just wanted to check on Ms. Blanton.”
When Hunter shifted around, the man at the door said, “Hello, Abigail. I’m Dr. Hart.”
She smiled politely, unsure what to say.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Hart asked.
She’d been feeling no pain right before he interrupted that kiss. “Better, thank you.” They needed to get rid of this guy. “But I’m very tired.”
“Get some rest. Please excuse me.” The doctor walked out.
Abbie hissed, “Think he suspects anything?”
“Maybe. Scoot over. I’m staying close enough to know if anyone breathes near you.” Hunter swung around again and scooped her into his lap, then pulled the cover up around her shoulders.
He acted as if he’d fight the world for her.
Thinking that way would leave her vulnerable to more heartache tomorrow if Hunter handed her over to his people. She had no reason to think he’d do otherwise.
If he expected her to go willingly, he was wrong.
She would fight anyone, including Hunter, who tried to stop her from finding her brother and convincing him to save their mother.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Sixty minutes to decide a person’s fate.
Hunter had decided the fate of some in mere seconds, but those had been trying to kill him.
Abbie just wanted to save her mother.
He sat in an unusually comfortable side chair for a hospital environment, but Kore was first-rate.
The bathroom door opened and Abbie emerged, freshly showered. She’d changed into another pair of jeans and a wheat-colored sweatshirt, looking a hell of a lot better at five in the morning than she had at nine o’clock last night.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“Can I get out before seven? They told me that’s when they release patients in the morning.”
“I called Dr. Hart and requested your release.” Hunter said requested as if it had been an order. “He’s on the way.”
“Do we, uh, have everything?” She lifted her eyebrows and cut her eyes at the computer port.
“Yes.” Of the patient files he’d downloaded last night, less than 1 percent were for males. He’d searched the files he downloaded while she slept and came up with a section entirely in code he would bet were the male patients, possibly the ten men bred to be killers. He did find a few male cases listed in family histories the way Abbie had located her brother, but in each of those cases the boys disappeared from family records within six months.
His gaze strayed to Abbie when she moved nervously around the room, hands behind her back as though every piece of equipment intrigued her.
She was avoiding him. Had been withdrawn since she woke in his arms this morning. When he’d leaned down to kiss her she’d excused herself to go to the bathroom and rushed from the bed.
He deserved that and more after putting her on the defensive yesterday. She was right to back away from him. The farther she got, the safer she’d be.
He’d gotten her the information she needed. Finding a brother offered hope for her mother.
She wouldn’t let that slip through her fingers.
One problem possibly solved.
But he had a new problem—the “we need to talk immediately” text from Eliot’s widow in reply to Hunter sending her a new cell phone number. Could it have come at a worse time? Had to be important for her to even contact him since she could barely tolerate speaking to the man she blamed for losing Eliot. Hunter accepted her loathing as well deserved.
Regardless, he intended to watch over her and Theo for the rest of their lives. That was the least he owed Eliot.
The door to Abbie’s room opened and Dr. Hart entered. In contrast to his freshly pressed suit and combed short hair, his eyes were swollen from sleep as though he’d just jumped out of bed. “Are you sure you’re ready to go, Ms. Blanton? I’d like to run some more tests—”
“No.” Hunter stood, towering over Hart.
The doctor nodded and took a step back. “I see.”
“You’ll hear from my people in the next two weeks about the donation.”
Hart’s face catapulted from disappointed to excitement. “Wonderful. I’ll be available at any time for questions. I took care of Abigail’s paperwork on the way up. Can I do anything else for you?”
Hunter extended his hand to Abbie. “Ready?”
She nodded and put her hand in his. He closed his fingers, wanting to hold that slender hand forever. Impossible. But he had her for now, which would only be another hour with BAD waiting for him, unless he got lucky. He turned to Hart. “You could do something for us. Where do you keep your corporate fleet?”
“In our private parking level downstairs.”
“We need a car.”
Abbie rode silently in the limousine Hunter had finagled from the Kore center. He must have been concerned about someone not connected to Kore following them to make this tactical maneuver, but she kept silent. He wouldn’t want to talk until they ditched the car.
Funny how she was starting to anticipate how he thought. He had the driver drop them at O’Hare airport, where he towed her quickly through the terminal, bypassing the ticket counter. In less than three minutes, he strolled with her through baggage claim and walked up to a limo driver holding up a sign for Johnson, who smiled and led them to the limousine corral.
Just like that, they were off again, and Hunter pressed a button on the panel at his armrest to engage the privacy glass.
She turned, ready to start in on him.
Hunter rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and let a yawn escape. Had he stayed up all night watching over her and making car arrangements? He must have felt her eyes and swept his bloodshot orbs her way. “Now we can talk.”
“I have to find my brother.” She didn’t demand, just stated that with certainty.
“I know. I spent some time last night searching records for him. I found a home address not far from downtown Chicago and a phone number. He appears to be some kind of consultant for the health care industry. Based on his website, he works out of his home.”
She managed not to let her jaw drop. “You have a phone number?”
He stifled another yawn and fished the electronic unit and his cell phone from his jacket, handing both to her. “Everything’s in a file set up for you on my desktop. The only number listed is a business line, which is probably a cell phone or a home line that doubles as a business phone. We’re going to Bloomington first—”
“Why?”
“Because I have to do something that will take ten minutes tops.” He hadn’t barked at her, but he was getting irritable. “Call your brother. We’ll go there next.”
She hoped he wasn’t lying to her, that he really would help her meet her brother. Handling the computer phone device carefully, she clicked the file with her name, which opened, then tried a couple other files that refused to open. She tried her brother’s phone number. After two rings, she got his voice mail.
Abbie ended the connection and handed Hunter his phone. “His voice mail says he’ll be in meetings until two today. I knew you wouldn’t want me to leave a message so I just hung up. Sorry I snapped at you about going to Bloomington. Didn’t mean to sound so self-centered.”
Hunter put his hand over hers and rubbed his thumb lightly across her skin. “I know you’re anxious about your mother.”
If he kept being nice to her she was going to lose this battle to hold a part of herself back from him. She changed the subject. “What about the information you were looking for?”
“Got everything I could find and sent it to my people.”
“How long’s the drive to Bloomington?”
Hunter propped his head in his hand, elbow on the door panel. “Two hours each way.”
“You’re not handing me over to someone, are you?”
“No.” He hadn’t said “not yet,” which she’d find encouraging if he’d explain what he planned to do with her. And he clearly wasn’t sharing where they were going or why.
She should slide farther away to her side of the seat and keep a distance between them. But his thumb was still rubbing across her hand, soothing her.
Trust took time and someone had to try first.
She lifted his hand to her shoulder and snuggled against his side.
Hunter turned his head and stared at her, his eyes asking a question she couldn’t read. He kissed her forehead and tucked her close. She laid her head on his chest and hugged an arm around his waist, content to ride quietly, though not at peace.
She still had no idea where they were going or when he would deliver her to a bunch of strangers… or law enforcement.
Hunter came awake the minute Abbie touched his face. He took in the surroundings beyond the limo they traveled in.
“We’re in Bloomington,” she informed him.
He sat up and ran a hand over his face and hair, forcing the spiked ends to lie down.
She handed him a T-shirt from her shoulder bag and one of the waters from the side service console. “You can wash and dry your face with this.”
“Thanks.” He used a splash of water to wash up, then killed the balance of the bottle in one long swallow. He caught a street sign. The driver was heading east from the interstate and turned south on Center Street.
Evergreen Memorial Cemetery would be just down the road.
He handed Abbie the empty water bottle she put in the ice bucket, then told her, “When we stop, you stay in the car.”
She gave him her not-happy look. “Why? Where are you going?”
“Have to talk to someone alone, but I’ll have the driver keep the doors locked and you’ll be in my sight the whole time.”
She pushed away from him over to her door and looked out, not saying another word.
The car turned between stone columns on each side of the entrance to Evergreen Memorial Cemetery.
Hunter curled his fingers tight to keep from reaching for her. He’d slept hard with her in his arms, his body content when she was close by. The couple feet now separating them might as well be miles. He hated even the small distance, but she wasn’t his and he couldn’t keep her. Trying to stay free long enough to reach her brother would be a challenge and might very well lose him the small window he’d need to elude BAD, but he couldn’t turn his back on her.
He could tell himself he was sticking this out because they’d cut a deal, but that would be a lie. He couldn’t let her down. Or hurt her again the way his suspicions had slapped her emotionally.
God, he couldn’t stand thinking of how she’d been hurt.
She’d practically given her life last night. If he could fix things with BAD right now he’d do it just so he could stay with Abbie. But he’d forced Joe’s hand when he snuck her out of the Kore center. Joe had to be furious even after receiving the files Hunter downloaded into the online vault.
If he could believe Joe would continue to use him on the mission and not trick him into being caught, Hunter would do whatever BAD needed to prevent the anticipated bomb attack.
But he wouldn’t willingly give Abbie to them.
That meant he had to figure out what to do with her while he evaded BAD.
No call from Gotthard in the last hour meant Joe had probably unleashed a team.
When the car parked near the David Davis memorial inside the cemetery grounds, Hunter said, “Be right back.”
She lifted a hand in dismissal, face still turned to gaze out the window.
Hunter got out and told the driver, “Lock the doors.”
“Yes, sir.”
He walked around the front of the car, welcoming the cool breeze that woke him fully. Fresh air untainted by disappointment and suspicion filled his next breath. He glanced down at his wrinkled clothes and brushed at his jacket to no avail. When he reached the memorial, he moved around the far side and stopped where he could face the car.
A slender female, average height, in black pants and a gray hooded jacket approached from his left, walking through the historical markers splattered with sunlight slicing through the nak*d hardwoods.
As he always requested, Cynthia left her hood in place. Blond hairs escaped and flew around her face, which didn’t harbor venomous eyes for once. “I would have spoken over the phone if this was inconvenient.”
Her voice flowed gentle as the wind this time, not harshly like the last time.
“Not a problem.” He’d told her not to leave voice mails and only to speak by phone in an emergency since he couldn’t always ensure they were both on secure lines. He set up an e-mail and text program just for her to contact him and instructed her to send messages from somewhere other than home. Had to admit that she never scoffed at his security measures, just nodded and said Eliot had given her the same instructions.
“I’m moving to St. Louis,” she told him in her usual get-to-the-point manner, which he did appreciate about her. “I have a new position there.” She handed him a piece of paper. “This is the address where I’m moving.”