Hyde, an Urban Fantasy (46 page)

Jolie took her hand off the steering wheel and put it on Eden’s arm. “I’m so sorry about Carter, Eden. He was a really nice guy.”

Eden’s lower lip started to shake. “Did he . . . die?”

Jolie glanced at her, confused. What the hell did that mean? Didn’t she wake up next to his body? When Jolie had fled the apartment the night before, Chastity had been screaming at her. The bitch had been pissed—not because Jolie had beaten someone, but because Jolie had beaten
Chastity’s
someone. “He’s mine,” she’d yelled. “Why did you end what was mine?” Jolie hadn’t answered. The look in Chastity’s eyes had scared the shit out of her, and Jolie had known that if she didn’t get out of there quick, she’d end up a bloody mess right next to Carter.

“Is he dead?” Eden asked, her voice shaking.

“Um . . . isn’t that why they were holding you?” Oh shit, why
had
the cops let her go? Jolie hadn’t yet told The Clinic about Carter’s death, so how had they found out? There was no way they’d have known it was once again time to grease whoever’s palm it took to close the case. What the hell?

Eden shook her head. “Did you speak to someone at the hospital?”

Jolie looked back to the road before they veered off and crashed. “Why would I?”

“Carter wasn’t dead. They sent him to the hospital. But I don’t know if he’s . . . .”

Jolie’s hand tightened on the wheel, her heart beat picking up speed, her foot pressing harder on the gas pedal.
Oh, shit.
She was in trouble. “Was he conscious?”

“For a few seconds,” Eden whimpered. “He told me to leave. He told me to leave him there. On the ground. Bleeding.” The girl was pathetic.

Jolie blinked and swallowed. “He actually said that? Or did he just shoo you away.”

“He said it, and he told me to call you and Mitch.”

Jolie nodded slightly and ran her teeth over her bottom lip. “He’s a smart kid. What else?” She only risked a quick glance at the girl. If Eden saw the expression on Jolie’s face, it would be a dead give-away. Holy shit, did he tell her anything condemning? And what had Eden told the cops?

“He told me that I didn’t do it.”

Jolie flipped her head to look at Eden. “Really?”

She shook her head that was already starting to shake all by itself.

“Did he tell you who
did
do it?”

“No.”

Jolie took a deep breath and flexed her foot to release its pressure on the gas pedal. “Well, did the cops talk to him? Get any information from him?”

“They told me he was in surgery . . . because of what I did to him.”

“But you just told me he said you didn’t do it.”

“Yeah, like that’s something I believe.”

Jolie relaxed into her seat for the rest of the drive to Mitch’s, leaving Eden to her own thoughts. Her own nightmare. So Eden still believed she’d attacked Carter. That was very good. And the police didn’t know any differently. But Carter being alive changed everything. Jolie needed to come up with a plan. She had to get to Carter before he woke up.
If
he woke up.

The Clinic was going to be furious. She’d been sloppy, in addition to drawing more attention to Hyde and Chastity. This needed to end.

If Eden died and Jolie made it look like Hyde had done it, part of her problem would go away. The Clinic couldn’t blame her if their handsome guinea pig did what they’d basically created him to do. And if Mitchell believed he’d killed Eden, as well as his sister, maybe Jolie could convince him to go away with her. Somewhere the cops couldn’t find them. The cops didn’t scare her nearly as much as her bosses did.

Could she disappear well enough that The Clinic couldn’t find her either? Mitchell too. She had to take him with her. But without the serum, what would he be like? She’d never known him without it. The Clinic had approached her after Mitchell’s father had died. She was ambitious and looked young enough to convince a sixteen-year-old boy she was just a friend. A friend they thought he would connect with, be attracted to, keep around. And he had. Jolie guessed they’d thought she could use her questionable sense of morality and do what she was told. And she had. Even after she realized she was in love with the bastard.

Fifteen years later, she still wasn’t 100% sure what the drug controlled—his cycle or his rage. Probably both. She could deal with him transforming more often. And maybe, with the evil appearing more often, he’d be more like Chastity. More like Eden. Easier to control when he was human, nicer even. She stifled a chuckle. Mitchell being nice. Yeah, she’d love to see that.

They pulled into Mitchell’s driveway a few minutes later. Eden jumped out of the car and ran to the front door.

“Which hospital, Eden?” Jolie yelled at her.

“North Broward!” Then she threw the door open and bounded up the stairs.

Jolie walked into the house to look for her phone, hoping she’d hear good news from the hospital. Maybe one of her problems hadn’t made it out of surgery alive.

§         
§          §

The headaches were back, even though Mitch hadn’t changed last night. He’d thought they were connected to his transformation, but maybe it was the cage—radon leaking out of the bars or something.
Yeah, sure, it was radon. Moron.
If the morphine wasn’t still flowing through his system, he’d be in a fetal position clutching his head and crying right now.

Instead, he was sitting up on the mattress, wiping his eyes, when he heard Eden’s shout from downstairs. His body waved back and forth slightly as he tried to find a good spot to balance in. When he heard the pounding of her footsteps in the hallway, he leaned forward and steadied himself with the bars, not trusting he could stand.

She plowed into the room and slid on the hardwood floor, her eyes puffy and red.
Too many tears.
The cage stopped her, and she knelt down to his level. Her fingers grasped his, the bar between their palms. She didn’t say anything, just searched his eyes for help, understanding. But he didn’t understand a damned thing. And help? How could he help her stuck in a prison cell?

When he realized that the only thing he could offer her was to listen, he said, “Tell me what happened.”

“Can you come out? Can I go in?” Her words were frantic, tumbling over each other in their haste.

Damn it, he wanted to hold her. Put his arms around her and press her hard against his chest as if that could force the fear out of her. “Yeah, get the key. But if I tell you to get out, you get out. Understand?”

She didn’t nod, just turned and ran to the table for the key. Fumbling, she unlocked the cage and rushed to him, her body landing on his, knocking him backwards onto the mattress with her on top of him.

His cock immediately reacted to the position. He cursed it, cursed
her
for forcing his body to lose control so quickly. But with her arms around him, her cheek against his chest, her shoulders jerking slightly from her sobs, he ignored his desire and held her. He kissed her hair and ran his hands down her back. Comforting someone was completely foreign to him. He hoped like hell he was doing it right.

“He said I didn’t do it, but I must have, Mitch.
She
must have done it.” Her voice was muffled, her breath warm on his neck. “But they let me go. Why did they let me go?”

“Because you didn’t do anything wrong, Eden. You didn’t.” Chastity did. And the woman in his arms wasn’t Chastity.

She raised her face to look at him—so much anguish, so much doubt.

He wiped her cheek, letting his hand trace down her face and rest on her trembling lip. When she inched higher up on him, he accepted her invitation. He very carefully put his lips on hers, sweeping them side to side, barely touching.

She moved even higher, opening to him, pulling him closer with the arms wrapped around his neck. Her tongue touching his, smooth, wet, warm.

His hips lifted by themselves, pressing his erection against her. She moaned into his mouth. What the hell was he doing?
Nice guy.
She’s completely vulnerable and all he’s thinking about is banging her . . . in a cage.
Yeah, nice fucking guy.

He pushed her away, trying to break the kiss, but he’d have to push a lot harder to pry her off him. And that was something he couldn’t do. Then he’d have to speak. Say something like:
Sorry you think you killed your boyfriend, but you need to get off me before I rip off your clothes and have at you.
Yeah, that’d be
just
what she needed to hear.

“Just in case you care, Eden, Carter’s in a coma.” The bitterness in Jolie’s voice echoed off the ceiling and did something Mitch had been unable to do—remove Eden’s lips from his.

Eden sat up, dazed but recovering, a dark blush appearing on her cheeks. “You called the hospital?” She stood and stepped out of the cage without looking back.

Mitch tried not to be disappointed at how quickly she seemed to forget about him. “Lock the door,” he muttered, wiping his mouth but still tasting her.

She whipped her head around and went to close the padlock. “Sorry.” She held his eyes until Jolie spoke.

“The surgery went okay, but he’s still unconscious. They don’t know much more than that. Something about, ‘We’ll wait and see.’ Which is just brilliant.” She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t go to med school, and I could’ve made that diagnosis.”

Eden spoke to Mitch. “I need to go see him.”

He nodded. “Fine. Take my car. Do you know how to drive?”

“More or less.”

Not encouraging.
“Enough to not kill yourself? Maybe Jolie should go with you.”

Jolie glared at him.

“Do you want to come, Jolie?” Eden asked. “I know you and Carter were . . . close.”

Jolie looked at her feet for a minute before speaking. “Sure. But then I’m coming back here. Mitchell, you and I have some more to discuss.”

Yippee, I can’t wait.
“I’ll be here.” For how much longer? He felt a faint pull from Hyde in his gut as the drug’s effects faded. Once it was entirely gone, he’d need the straps again. But taking more—before the last dose had been metabolized out of his system—seemed tragically stupid, especially considering how drastically the first dose had hit him.

Eden’s eyes were shy again, like she regretted her reaction to seeing him moments before. “See you later, Mitch.”

He nodded, not knowing what else to say to her. He wished
he
regretted her reaction earlier. Or his. It would make things a lot easier. He knew it had to end, knew
he’d
be the one to make it so. Did he want her with the caveat that he’d have to spend the rest of his life in a cage? Living only for her visits. Never trusting himself to be outside or around other people. Not that he cared about other people, aside from having a small problem with actually murdering them. But how would that be enough for either of them? With that danger always hanging over their heads. As unromantic as it was, the idea that he’d be unable to financially support himself was beyond what his oh-so male ego could stand. What a lovely life they’d have together—he’d be a kept man. Literally. Kept in a cage until she came home after a long day at work.
Yeah, that’d be what every woman dreams of.

Mitch avoided Eden’s eyes. Too much to tell her, too little time in an already unfortunate moment. So he’d get to obsess about that discussion for a while longer.
Goody.

“Don’t be too long, Jolie. I may need you.” He didn’t apologize for taking her away from Carter’s side. He knew she’d be happy to have an excuse to leave the hospital. He knew she had no attachment to the guy. She’d probably agreed only because it would be the
proper
reaction for someone who actually cared about people. But not Jolie. No. At some point, Mitch had rubbed off on her.

Maybe the truth was that he’d rubbed everything off and had nothing left to hold him together.

Carter was unmoving, his breath regulated by the machine to his side. It also tracked his heart rate and brainwaves, sending quiet, hollow beeps that echoed in Eden’s ears. His head had been struck once. On the side, just above his ear. But the bandages were wrapped all the way around, covering his forehead, ears, and most of one eye. A bruise peeked out from under the gauze protecting a broken cheekbone. One arm had been neatly tucked to his side, attaching him with tubes and tape to multiple bags of fluid and medicine. His other arm was loose, limp under her hand.