5

AIDA

I turn in my badge and get my purse before leaving Genesis.

The whole time, it feels like every security guard I pass looks at me more closely than before. Their eyes track my movements, narrowing slightly when I fumble with my bag.

On the drive home, I play over Umansky's words and a feeling of righteous indignation settles over me that I've allowed myself to become so desperate.

I'm better than this. I used to be better than this, and I knew it.

I would have made Genesis kiss my ass and probably double my already substantial pay just to talk to them about taking a position.

And here, I was ready to believe some bullshit that it was ethical to allow a man to donate his living body to science because I thought that man was a bad person, maybe even someone who didn't deserve to live for what he had done. And I was so desperate to work and be part of the science community again that I let myself forget that I'm a big fucking deal .

I let myself believe that I live in a world where it's legal to kill a man in the name of science, even a bad one, and that's not the world I've spent my life crafting.

I'm braked at a light, and the weight of where this would have led makes me shiver. I was prepared to run tests on Noel until they possibly killed him. I was going to do that for a paycheck and some professional redemption.

And now Umansky knows I might not believe the hype anymore, which puts me in jeopardy and Noel.

Beep !

My foot lifts quickly off the brake, and I step on the gas, speeding through the streets until I get home.

As I rush up the front steps, my heart beats, remembering how that one guard, Maxim, looked at me as I left the research facility.

"Be safe," he'd said, his deep voice unable to sound anything but menacing, his broad frame still vibrating with unspent aggression.

I thought he was being an asshole, but now it feels like a threat.

Repressed anxiety rolls through my stomach, a familiar feeling that I'd hoped never to experience again.

"Zo!" I push open the door, tossing my purse to the floor, and rush through to the back of the house, where I can hear clanking sounds.

It sounds like there's a battle going on, and I start to run, nearly falling into the kitchen just as my daughter lunges forward with a metal spoon in her hand to fend off the pot lid assault of another girl standing across from her.

She stops mid-attack. The broad smile stretching her face makes me pause in my panic.

It's been so long since I've seen her smile like that—full and uninhibited. It's the smile of a girl who knows she's safe.

"Oh, Mom, Tonia's going to stay for dinner. I made vegan eggplant parm. I'm trying to turn her to the dark side."

The dark side is what Zora calls veganism, which she's been unsuccessfully trying to drag me over to for the past two years. I've given in recently just to be close to her.

She's still smiling and waiting, I realize, for me to give my consent.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Please do. Zo makes a mean eggplant parm."

"Thanks, Mrs. Smith. Oh, I mean, Ms. um," Tonia's eyes widen as she looks from me to my daughter, and that's enough to kill the joy I walked in on.

One slip-up and the smile drops from Zora's face. She tosses the spoon she was using as a sword onto the counter and steps around.

"We're going to eat upstairs. Is that okay?" She picks up a spatula and angrily plops servings from the tray that's cooling on the counter into two pasta bowls.

"Sure, just be sure to clean up. We don't want ants."

She hands a bowl and fork to her friend, and I step out of the way so they can leave.

As their footsteps sound out above my head, I hear Zora laugh, and I relax a little. At least her friend's reminder of my late married name hasn't ruined their night. I drop down onto the closest stool, letting my head fall into my hands as my memory returns to the day that changed everything.

I should have known something terrible would happen.

I should have listened to my daughter.

Now she has that inside thing. If Zora feels right, it's probably right. If she doesn't, I know now to run.

She'd never liked the man I met when she was thirteen and married a short time later.

Honestly, I'd had reservations myself, but after years of a nearly perfect partnership, I wanted that again.

It hadn't been that long before we'd lost her father, and I was reeling, lonely. When my second husband came along, I basked in the sudden attention and ignored every warning sign.

A thump upstairs draws me from my memory as peals of laughter echo through the house.

Sighing, I look at the tray of lasagne and try to muster the energy to eat.

I don't have it.

I want to do nothing but sleep like I wanted to sleep last night.

It's calling to me.

By the time I make it upstairs and remove my clothes, my body is dragging with the weight of pending unconsciousness.

I tell myself it's the stress of realizing that the job I thought was such a great opportunity, a life-changing one, is probably shady as hell, and now I'm stuck there until I find a way to remove myself safely and make sure Noel doesn't end up dead from whatever they have planned.

As my head hits the pillow, I consider leaving. I can pack Zo up and go somewhere new, like I should have a year ago.

The thought is dismissed as soon as it pops into my mind because I know one of the saving graces for my relationship with Zora is that I didn't wholly uproot her. She was embarrassed for a while but never wanted to leave her friends. If I did that now, especially if I was running from another bad decision, she'd probably never forgive me.

I don't even realize the moment sleep takes me, but suddenly, I'm back in that endless void, standing on the floating platform looking at the naked form of the man I left strapped to a chair an hour ago.

He looks conflicted as he stares at me across the space between us.

"What?" I fidget under his examination.

"I'm trying to figure out if I can trust you."

"Yeah, me too."

His head cocks in a way that looks distinctly canine. "Trying to figure out if you can trust me?"

"No, myself and what I'm starting to feel toward you."

"And what do you feel toward me, Aida?"

I shrug. "I don't know. Confused. Protective. Attracted."

He smirks, those dimples flashing. "That's expected."

"Because you're fine?"

His chuckle is deep and rumbling. He throws his head back and lets the sound echo around us. "Nah, baby," he sobers, pinning me down with his gaze again, "because you're mine. We'll have to do something about it soon."

My thighs clench, twisting against each other. His words sound more like a promise than I feel my sleeping brain should be able to conjure.

"Are you okay?"

I frown.

My dreams are usually disjointed and incoherent nonsense. Having him talk to me like we're standing in my living room is weird. It feels too real.

"Not that," he nods to my legs, and I automatically unclench them. "I heard what Umansky said to you. You know, I won't let him touch you."

"You're strapped to a chair." I don't know why I'm even entertaining this, but if anything, it feels nice to talk to someone who isn't trying to get information on what happened with my ex or a daughter with a biting teenage tongue.

"For now." His dimples flash on another grin, and it looks so natural on his nearly line-less face that I almost miss the flash of menace accompanying his words. "But when I'm free, that man will wish he never made you feel like you did today."

He reaches out to brush his fingertips along my cheek, and I realize he's suddenly closer, close enough to touch. It's like the space just disappeared between us, and it's been so long since I've been touched with such gentleness that I lean into it.

"How do you know how I felt? You weren't even awake."

"I could smell you. You smelled scared and ashamed. I came here to wait for you to make sure you were okay."

I know none of this is real, but the scientist in me can't resist asking questions even when I know the answers.

"Where is here?" I look around the space, trying to peer into the dense shroud of blackness.

"It's where fate brings us to our destiny. I never thought I would be here again, but apparently, I don't know as much about how this works as I thought."

"So if I'm here, and you're here, and this is where fate brings us to our destiny, does that mean—"

"You're mine."

It's ridiculous to feel some kind of way about the dream version of a murdering felon who I'm currently conducting experiments on in a highly secret lab claiming me, but I do.

"Yeah, maybe under different circumstances, I'd let myself belong to someone like you." I shrug and smirk." You know, if you weren't a murdering psychopath."

He tilts his head, looking closely at me. His eyes are the brightest things in this dark. "I think you know that's not true. I think you're starting to realize that a lot of things may not be what they seem. You don't have to take my word for it, but keep your eyes open. You're not safe there. Play along until I can get us out, okay?"

I sigh, feeling guilt even in my dreams. "You're not going anywhere, Noel. You were right earlier. What we're doing to you is going to kill you. But I will do what I can to get you out of this. I don't know how yet, and I have to be careful since I can't risk my safety, but I'll think of something."

"Byron."

I frown. "What?"

"That's my name. Not Noel McCanty. " He snorts like the first time I called him that. " It's Byron."

"Byron?"

"Byron. So I don't want to hear you calling me by some other man's made-up name. I don't care what your file says. Say okay, Aida."

The depth of his voice pulls the concession out of me. "Okay."

"Good. Get some real sleep. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow's Saturday. I don't—I don't work on Saturdays." Why am I acting like any of this is real?

Those dimples flash.

"Then I'll see you in your dreams." He shifts forward, moving before I can lean away, and fits his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. "We're going to have to do something about this smell, aren't we?"

I don't realize I'm holding onto his arms until I leverage against them to pull back and look into his face.

He's just as attractive as in the lab, hotter even.

The sedatives he's being given are hard on the body, but the slight wear around his eyes that was present at Genesis is gone here.

"What's wrong with my smell?"

He brushes a hand over my hair, smoothing back my low ponytail. "It's not right."

I tilt my head. "What should I smell like?"

"Me, of course." His smirk widens, going a little dark, a little menacing.

"I don't understand."

I hold my breath as he leans in and brushes his lips over my forehead. It's another tender gesture.

"You will. Soon. Now, sleep."

***

"So, basically, what you're saying is that I'm locked in?"

My attorney, who I hoped to never see again about some nonsense, shakes his head as he looks over the contract I signed with Genesis. "Not really. An inability to complete the work would get you out, but you'd have to show proof that all avenues have been exhausted and the work cannot continue. And in that case, since you basically guaranteed that you could complete the work—not sure why you did that—you'd have to return half your salary."

"I guaranteed it because I can do it."

He pulls his glasses off and levels a confused look at me. "Then what's the problem? It's a three-month contract for a really nice sum. You're a month in. Just finish."

I reconsider telling him that I'm having an ethical dilemma, mostly because his hourly rate isn't worth the time he'd spend low-key censuring me.

"My advice is you see it through. From the terms and according to your own admission, this is a walk in the park."

I chew my lip. "Okay, but what if they were doing something illegal? Isn't there some kind of whistle-blower protection?"

"Sure. What are you exposing? And before you answer that, know that while you can have me look at this because it's a legal document, you are not allowed to discuss any of the particulars of your work with me."

"Then how am I supposed to tell you what they're doing?"

He makes a face. "Not sure. That's why you have your lawyer review documents like these before you sign them."

"Right. Thanks." I stand and take the contract when he holds it out. As I turn to leave, his voice stops me.

"I'm glad something came through, though, Aida. I know this last year was hard. Just stick with it. Collect your salary, and it'll be done in two months."

"Yeah, thanks." I leave, checking my watch once I'm outside to see that I have just enough time to get to Genesis.

I spent the whole weekend mulling over the pros and cons of quitting and having Genesis sue me for breach of contract. In the end, I decided to eat the two hundred an hour and just ask my attorney so I could make an informed decision.

As I get in my car and head out of the city, it feels like the decision was made the moment I signed on the dotted line.

At the check-in desk, once I reach the lab, the guard takes my bag and lobs it into one of the bins where our personal belongings are kept until we check out again.

"Can you place it in there next time? I have a daughter I need to be in contact with, and if you break my phone, there's going to be a problem."

"Your phone is fine," he snaps, handing over my access badge.

I snatch it, feeling the fire of my old self solidify even more. "Don't throw my stuff. If you can't place it properly, I am happy to do it."

He glares, but I don't back down until he rolls his eyes and shrugs. "Fine. Whatever."

"Thanks." My smile is tight, and I pin my badge to my lab coat as I make my way down the hall.

Being a scientist is so methodical, even as our minds are always searching for answers, that I never even bothered to wonder about the labs I pass on the way to mine. My mind was on my work.

But now, I count the people passing me, entering rooms that I've never seen the inside of. I peek in now when I can, catching glimpses of equipment and conversation.

"Fucking creepy as hell."

A pair of guards walk toward me. They don't see me coming.

"He didn't move at all?"

The other guard shakes his head. "Not fucking once. Not to eat or piss. He's been fucking lying there the whole time."

The first guard snorts. "Is he dead?"

The other shakes his head. "They said he wasn't, but I think they're waiting to see if he starts to stink first. It's not like anyone is going to go in there and check."

"Hell no. You know, Max got wasted the other day and started mouthing off. He said that dude can turn into—" The guard stops when the other elbows him after spotting me coming.

"What's up, Doctor."

I throw up a hasty wave, but I'm already quickening my steps toward the door to my lab.

I swipe and burst inside, going over to the glass wall of Noel's cell.

He's lying on his back, eyes closed, hands folded behind his head. I stare at his chest, exhaling when I see the steady rise and fall.

Suddenly, his eyes spring open, leveling intensely on me.