29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

Cally

Everything is a blur as I’m escorted out of the cabin by Corporal Barton and his team. Although I don’t know what they think I could possibly do to harm them, they ordered me to put my hands behind my back and then handcuffed me with a zip tie.

The tight plastic bites into my wrists, forcing me to walk with precise steps, flanked on either side by soldiers in combat gear. Fear grips me tightly, its icy fingers squeezing around my heart. I don’t know whether I’m more afraid for myself or Sylas.

For some reason, I have enough faith in humanity to believe that even the military will have enough compassion to treat Tater well and find him a good home. The thought of losing him is like a punch to the gut. He’s been my protector and traveling companion for years.

I try to steady my breathing as we make our way through the dense forest surrounding the cabin. We reach a clearing where a sleek black SUV awaits us. It’s sinister against the backdrop of nature—a stark contrast between military might and untamed wilderness. My heart pounds louder in my ears as I’m pushed into the vehicle without ceremony or conversation.

The ride is tense and silent as I worry, fear lashing in the pit of my stomach. Will they lock me away forever for stumbling upon this secret base? Panic churns within me; images of myself confined in a small cell flash before my eyes.

After only a few minutes, though it seems like an eternity, we arrive at our destination—a compound of Quonset huts. Some are little larger than the one I’ve been sleeping in. There are a few that might be large barracks or office buildings. We pull up outside one of the long, low-slung metal buildings.

“You’ll be speaking with our commanding officer, Colonel Slater,” Barton informs me as he helps me out of the car. He keeps his grip tight on my upper arm as he leads me inside the metal building.

The colonel’s office is furnished in dark woods with plaques and commendations lining the walls, but it’s the man himself who commands my attention. Sitting at his desk, he looks stern, with steely gray eyes that bore into mine. His close-cropped gray hair gives him an authoritative air—one that commands respect yet also instills fear.

“Take a seat,” he says curtly, but doesn’t offer any pleasantries or explanations. “Barton, Webb, remain here. The rest of you can return to duty.”

He has a folder with my name on it in his hands. They’ve already done a background check on me? These guys aren’t fooling around.

With my hands still cuffed behind my back, I gingerly lower myself onto one of two chairs across from his desk—it feels more like settling into a makeshift witness stand than anything else.

“I assume you’re aware that knowledge about this classified base can put lives at risk,” he begins, his voice like gravel crunching underfoot.

My heart hammers wildly in my chest. “Y-yes, sir,” I manage to stammer out.

“I’m glad you know how serious this is.” He leans forward and steeples his fingers in front of him. “So, who else knows about this place?”

The weight of the question bears down on me—every word feels like an anchor pulling me deeper into treacherous waters. My mind whirls, considering all the possibilities and potential consequences.

“No one.” When his brow lowers and his nostrils flare, I add, “Just… Sylas,” as guilt and fear slice through my veins.

“And do you know his whereabouts?”

Relief courses through me. Although I didn’t really believe he betrayed me, this confirms he didn’t sneak away this morning and tell the military about me.

“Mushroom hunting. Near the little pond.”

“Mushrooms.” Slater gazes heavenward, shaking his head.

“Miss Quinn, I don’t know how much Sylas told you, but these males have been through a great deal of pain in their lifetimes. I spearheaded the mission that searched for them for years and finally rescued them. Under no circumstances will I…” His flinty gaze pierces right through me, “allow anything or anyone to endanger them.”

Though his face and demeanor are stern, this man has affection for the splicers. This dashes a lot of my preconceptions about the military being the bad guys in this scenario.

“If word of their existence leaks before we’re ready to properly spin the story to the media, people with evil intent could literally storm the gates. Your comfort and happiness are secondary to the males in my charge.”

Sylas had given me most of this information the day we met, but it never struck me so clearly that the threat of my incarceration was never about me, it was about protecting the splicers.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to lock you up until we decide to go public. An idiot with an expensive drone stumbled onto our base a while ago. We found the culprit and did damage control, but we can’t have the two of you corroborating each other’s stories.”

My heart flutters in my chest and I slam my lids shut to keep from crying. I’m a nomad, a wanderer who was smart and lucky enough to figure out a way to earn enough income to support a lifestyle that kept me and my dog on the move. The idea of being confined to a cell for the next twenty months is so crushing it makes it hard to take a full breath.

“Sir, we’ve located Sylas and are bringing him to your twenty now,” crackles over a comm on the colonel’s desk.

Sylas will be here in a minute. It might be the last time I see him for months. Or… ever.

“Please don’t punish him, Colonel. He… he did everything right. I mean… he probably should have reported me immediately, but he contained me on the property. He took my car keys and wouldn’t allow me to leave. We were going to tell you. We…”

“I shouldn’t judge.” His tone is low. “You’re the first woman he’s ever met. And the poor male’s in rut. A perfect storm for terrible behavior.” He exhales heavily as he shakes his head.

By the force with which his lips are pressed together, it’s clear he was told about the state of the bed, including the ropes.

There’s a knock on the door and the colonel barks, “Enter.”

Although images of Sylas bloody, beaten, and cuffed have been swirling in my head, when he walks through the door, he looks just as he did when I last saw him. Except his face is drawn tight in worry. When his gaze lands on me, he hurries to my side, even though he’s in the presence of the man who literally holds his life in his hands.

Before Sylas reaches me, Tater bounds over and swipes the side of my face with his happy tongue.

“Are you okay? Colonel, why is she handcuffed like this? Her shoulders must be aching by now.”

It tugs at my heart that he knows how painful this position is, probably from his own experience. Perhaps one day I’ll know more about his history, although it sounds as though we won’t have a moment alone together for a long, long time.

The colonel tells one of the soldiers who has been standing at ease during my interrogation to uncuff me as Sylas leans to kiss me, then thinks better of it and stands to his full height and addresses the colonel.

“Sir. I forced the female to stay with me. She wandered onto the base in search of her runaway dog and rather than report her presence to you, I chose to… keep her for my own purposes. I understand if you need to jail me, punish me, but it was my decision not to bring her to your attention. Promise me you won’t harm her.”

He’s babbling now. His desperation to keep me safe is palpable.

“Lock me up, throw away the key, but—”

“That’s enough!” Slater’s voice is thunderous as he holds his arm out, palm facing Sylas to make it clear he doesn’t want to hear one more word.