Monster (Impossible #1) (3 page)

My cheeks flamed.  I hadn’t been in a relationship
since before I started med school.

I just haven’t had the time,
I lied to myself.  But I knew that the reason went deeper than that; I hadn’t trusted anyone enough to open up to them in years.  I had never felt ashamed of that fact before, but now that Bradley questioned me about it, I felt pathetic.  And utterly alone.

I considered lying, wanted to tell him that someone would notice my absence.  But that simply wasn’t true.  Who would I tell him to call? 
One of my work colleagues?  They were the only people that I could even remotely consider to be my friends, and it wasn’t exactly like we went for cocktails after work.

Bradley was right: no one would miss me.  And I hated him for making me admit it.  Finally, I shook my head, confirming his assumption.

He glanced down at my phone again.  “Well, it seems there’s no one to contact but your work.”  His gaze turned inward, considering.  “What excuse should we give?  Illness?  No, you could get over that quickly.”  He shot a hard look at Sean.  “And since I don’t know how long you’ll be with us, that won’t be feasible.”  He snapped his fingers as an idea came to him.  “Your mother died.  You have to go home and will be off work indefinitely.”

I glared at him, hating him even more fiercely for cutting to the core of me, for bringing my deeply-buried pain to the s
urface.  “You’re about fourteen years too late for that,” I hissed.  “My parents died when I was thirteen.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sean’s hand twitch, as though he wanted to reach out to me.  But I didn’t want his pity, so I shot him a forbidding look.  His expression hardened to that blank mask again, and his hand clenched into a fist, held resolutely at his side.

But Bradley was eyeing me skeptically.  “How?”  He demanded, clearly testing me.

“Car crash,” I said tersely.

Bradley studied me for a moment, assessing my story.  I kept my face blank, not giving away my lie lest he think that I was lying about them being dead.  That much was true, at least. 

“Fine, then,” he finally continued.  “Your foster mother died.  I assume you were in the system?”

More painful memories.  I just nodded jerkily.

“Okay,” he said.  “I’m your foster-brother, and I’m calling to let them know that my mother has died.  You’re coming to comfort me in this difficult time.”

I tried to suppress my derisive snort.  As though I would ever comfort that jackass, and I certainly wouldn’t waste one second mourning my foster-mom.  I had been nothing but a meal ticket for her, and she turned a blind eye when Marcus had…

“What’s his name?”  Bradley asked, intercepting my dark thoughts. 
“Your foster brother.  You had one right?  What’s his name?”  He insisted.

I glared up at him, hating him as I said the disgusting name through gritted teeth.  “Marcus,” I hissed.  “Marcus Ames.”  I knew that I was making a mistake in betraying more of my weaknesses by showing my long-harbored ire, but I couldn’t hold it in.  Not when I was forced to think of
him
.

Bradley was already dialing my work number, taking no particular interest in my show of emotion.  “Don’t make a sound,” he
said, a warning in his tone.

“Or I won’t hesitate to kill you,”
his words played over in my mind.  That was something I didn’t care to hear again.  It was getting old, to be honest.

A few moments passed in heavy silence as I seethed and the phone rang.

“Hi, this is Marcus Ames, Dr. Ellers’ brother,” Bradley said into the receiver.  His brow furrowed, and he shot a glare at me, clearly wondering if I had tricked him in some way.  “I’m her foster brother,” he explained.

I knew why there was some confusion.  I had never told anyone at work that I had a brother.  Or any sort of family for that matter.  I kept things pretty close to the vest.  That way, no one would ever give me those pitying looks that I hated so much, the ones that had followed me for years after my parents’ deaths.  They had only stopped when I had created a new life for myself in med school, throwing myself into my work so that there was no room in my world for anyone else, for anyone’s pity.

“She hasn’t mentioned me?”  Bradley glowered at me, his hand twitching towards his gun.  Sean tensed, clearly ready to make a move against his friend if he threatened me.  Catching his eye, Bradley frowned and stopped himself short.  “Well, she asked me to call,” he plowed on.  “My mother has died, and Claudia has come home to help make funeral arrangements.  She wanted me to let you know that she won’t be able to come in, and she’s not sure when she might be ready to return to work.  She’s pretty torn up about it.”

Another pause.
  Bradley’s frown deepened.

“Alight,” he
said, his voice tight.  “I’ll put her on.”

He pushed the
phone to my ear, putting his hand on his gun at the same time.  “Back me up, bitch,” he hissed at me.

“Claudia?”  The receptionist said my name questioningly.

I wanted to scream, to tell her I needed help.  But one glance at Bradley told me that I wouldn’t live long enough to get the words out.  Sean’s demands to keep me alive didn’t matter; all that mattered to him was his own safety, and he would gladly sacrifice me for that.  I swallowed hard.

“Ava,” I said, my voice ragged with suppressed emotion.  Too bad she would interpret it as grief rather than fear for my life.  “I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.  I just found out that Darla… 
That my foster mom died.”  I had to force myself to call her “mom.”  The woman didn’t even deserve to be classed as human, much less a mother.

“Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry to hear that,” the pity in Ava’s voice was genuine.  And I hated her a little for it.  “Take as much time as you need.  I’ll get your appointments shuffled around.”

“Thanks,” I forced out the word.  I most certainly was not grateful that Ava was buying this hook, line, and sinker.

Bradley took the phone from me and ended the call before I had time to say anything else.  He was staring down at me, his eyes burning.

“Why didn’t you tell me that they didn’t know about your foster family?”  He demanded.

“You didn’t ask,” I replied as coolly as I could, trying not to quell under his furious stare.

He let out a low growl, his muscles tensing as he took a threatening step towards me.

“Bradley!”  Sean’s voice cut in sharply.  He sat up fully, his arms cording as he flexed threateningly.  “Leave it.”  Bradley’s glare rounded on his friend, but Sean held it, his deep green eyes steady, implacable.  But he was going very pale, and the red stain on his bandages was blooming.

“Shit,” Bradley said, all menace leaving him.

Seeing that his friend was no longer threatening me, Sean allowed himself to fall back on the pillows, unable to suppress a small groan as the soft impact jarred his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”  Bradley demanded of me.  “I thought you said he would be fine.”

“Well, he
would
be if he didn’t have to keep straining himself because of your hot head,” I snapped, reaching out to check the bandages.  I was stopped short by the cuffs.  I rounded on Bradley with a curse.  “Can’t you take these off?  I kind of need my hands to do this.”

His eyes flicked from me to Sean, unsure.

“For fuck’s sake, Bradley,” Sean said.  “What could she possibly do to hurt me?”  His irritation was clear in his tone, but it was the barely-concealed pain in his voice that swayed his friend.

Bradley pulled a small key out of his pocket and unlocked the handcuffs.  I gratefully rubbed my sore wrist and flexed my fingers, working the blood flow back into my hand.  A wave of dizziness washed over me as I pushed myself up; I was still weakened from giving so much of my blood to Sean.

I gave my life’s blood to a man who wants to keep me locked away indefinitely,
I thought a bit angrily at myself.  It seemed my desire to preserve human life was overriding my own sense of self-preservation.

He
did
save your life,
another voice said.  I repressed the urge to snort at it derisively.  Yeah, he saved my life from his deranged friend who had only kidnapped me in the first place to save his sorry hide.  Sean might not have been holding the gun on me, but it was just as much his fault that I was here.

Despite my anger, my hands were gentle as I began to
unwrap the gauze, revealing the angry red hole in his chest.  Some of the stitches had ripped open from his sudden movements.  I gathered up the first-aid kit and retrieved the needle and suture thread in order to close the wound once again.

Bradley was looking on anxiously.  “You look like shit, buddy,” he said to Sean, who had gone very pale.  A light smattering of freckles across his cheeks stood out starkly now as his skin went white.

But his lips curved up in a small smile.  “I’ve had a rough day,” he said, his voice low and rough with suppressed pain as I worked.  “What’s your excuse?”  He gave a weak laugh, but it quickly turned to a pained cough.  He closed his eyes, grimacing.

Bradley ignored his quip, turning to me.  “Give him more of your blood, doc,” he ordered.

I looked up at him coldly.  “Oh, I’m sorry,” I said flatly. “I’m fresh out of spare blood today.”

Bradley’s face twisted into a snarl.  “Give it to him.  He needs it.”

“No.  I’d rather live long enough to finish treating him, thanks.  If you want to kill me, shooting me would be much faster, you know.”  I glared up at him for emphasis, but something I saw in his muddy brown eyes softened my heart a little.  There was fear there, terror.  No matter what else Bradley was, he was a fiercely loyal friend, and the man lying on the bed before me clearly meant the world to him.  In his mind, Sean’s life was worth more than that of an innocent woman.  As twisted as it was, I recognized love in his eyes, the kind of love that comes from a deep-seated bond between people who are such a part of each other that one wouldn’t know how to live without the other.  It was that look that made me drop my snarkiness.

“Look,” I said, more gently this time.  “If I give him my blood, I’ll die.  And then there will be no one here to help him.  Just trust me.”

Bradley stared at me for a long moment, Sean’s ragged breathing the only sound cutting through the tense silence.  Finally, he nodded jerkily.

I finished my work quickly, stitching him up more easily this time now that the wound wasn’t so obscured by his blood.  Once my task was complete, Bradley reached for me, gripping my wrist hard.  I winced as his fingers dug into the ringed bruised that had been left around it by the harsh bite of the handcuffs.

And now he was pulling them out again.

“You don’t have to-
”  I began.

“Shut up,” he barked as he fastened one cuff around my wrist and the other around the bedpost.  His eyes bored into mine, and I saw no trace of compassion in their depths.  I knew that
the only reason I had been allowed to live this long was for Sean’s sake.  He had told Bradley that he wasn’t a killer, but I wasn’t so sure that that was true.

My mouth snapped closed, and I bit back the angry curses that I wanted to hurl at him.  Sean was unconscious again, and who knew what Bradley might do to me if he wasn’t awake to come to my rescue?

My rescue?
I bit back a mad laugh.  No one here was going to save me.  That was for sure.  Sean might not be a murderer, but he was still my jailor.  And I hated him for that.

Still, I was surprised to find that some of the tightness in my chest loosened when Bradley left the room, the lock sliding home behind him.  Although my rational mind told me that both men were equally responsible for snatching my life away from me, a deeper part of me recognized a humanity in Sean that was absent in Bradley.

I looked over at his sleeping form, watching intently as the color slowly worked its way back into him, until his freckles became almost invisible against his lightly tanned skin once again.  As I watched, his breathing return to a deep, normal rhythm, I couldn’t help admiring his perfect, hard-muscled body.

Stop that! 
I snapped at myself. 
He’s a heartless bastard.

A sexy, heartless bastard.

His arms were corded, all of his muscles perfectly defined as though they had been carefully carved by a master sculptor.  Even under the gauze, I knew that his chest was hard and strong, and I found my eyes wandering down from the wound to his perfect abs.  There was a dusting of dark hair, a trail that led from his navel down into his jeans…

I mentally slapped myself.  I might be handcuffed to a bed next to one of the sexiest men that I had ever seen, but this was
so
not the way I had fantasized about this scenario.  Usually the man was conscious.  And I wasn’t in fear for my life.  Yes, this was decidedly less erotic that what I had envisioned.

Think about something else,
I commanded my flighty brain.

But as the long minutes ticked slowly by, I found it impossible to stop staring at his perfection.  If I had to be trapped in a room with a strange man, I guess
ed Sean wasn’t my worst option.  Besides, focusing on his physical beauty kept my mind from wildly speculating about what might happen to me.