“Lucky for you, I have a heavy dose of ibuprofen that I’ll also leave with you. Just make sure to eat something with it. But then you told me when I got down here that you planned to make Iris breakfast, right?”
With a heavy sigh, Bec shook her head. “Selina, I have no intention of hurting Iris. We’re in a sticky situation here, but my only goal is to keep her calm while she tries to solve this.”
“Mmm,” Selina answered as she dropped the syringe into a small sharps container and tucked it in her bag. “I concur that’s what I witnessed up there as you helped calm her for the sake of the facility.”
“Selina—”
She held up her hand to stop her. “Listen, I’m not saying we have any control over consenting adults. I’m just saying we know how to get justice when someone we love is wronged. I’m sure you’ve been introduced to Iris’s disabilities and understand them.”
“To a degree,” Bec agreed. “Her right eye has tracking issues, and the bilateral foot drop requires technologically advanced foot orthoses and an altered gait. She’s been open about her neurological changes after the TBI. I’ve worked with a lot of neurodivergent people. I can understand the disabilities without needing to know the cause.”
“Good,” Selina said with a nod. “Because Iris doesn’t talk about what happened to her. It’s an unspoken rule that no one asks.”
“And I never would,” Bec agreed. “Are we done with the third degree? I should make her breakfast and keep her fueled and hydrated as she works.”
Selina pushed two bottles toward her. “You’ve been a good sport, so yes, we’re done. Take one of these three times a day,” she said, pointing at the antibiotic bottle. “And one of the ibuprofen every six hours as needed. Call me if those streaks start creeping toward the line, or the arm suddenly becomes extremely hot, red and sore, or you develop a fever despite taking ibuprofen. Make sure to wrap your arm in plastic before showering. Understood?”
“You got it,” Bec agreed. “Thanks again for your help. I needed it with my arm. Not so much for Iris, but I respect your position.”
“I can’t ask for more than that,” Selina said, hoisting her bag over her shoulder. “I’ll let you start cooking while I take the walkie-talkie up to Iris and check in with her.”
“Great. Let her know I’ll be up shortly.”
“See you tomorrow,” Selina said on her way out the door.
“God willing,” Bec answered, to which she got a tip of Selina’s fake hat.
Bec grabbed the bottles off the table and walked to the kitchenette. All she wanted to do was crawl back into bed and elevate her arm, but that wouldn’t get the job done. Instead, she strapped on an ice pack over her shirt sleeve and got to work scrambling some eggs while the bread was in the toaster. She could picture Iris upstairs typing away in her own little world, but she didn’t want her to do it hungry. A glance at the clock told her they were going on lunchtime instead of breakfast, but fuel was fuel, no matter the time of day.
Having the ventilation system working again was a big win for them. It wasn’t as huge as the containmentsystem, but at least the air exchanges and safety features worked again. Once Iris got the containment system online, Bec would insist she take another nap. She had no idea how long Iris had slept, but something told her it wasn’t long. She got at least an hour because that’s how long Bec had been awake watching Iris sleep.
Bec chuckled to herself as she buttered the toast. It sounded creepy, but it didn’t feel that way last night. Iris intrigued her. Especially when she saw how peacefully she slept. It was the first time her face relaxed, and she sighed deeply. Maybe they weren’t sighs of relief, but she was content. She just wanted to offer Iris contentment as much as possible while under this roof. It was easy to see that she found life difficult to navigate sometimes and that changing her daily routine was stressful for her, so if she could offer her a moment of pleasure in the day, she’d do it.
But not the kind of pleasure Selina was hinting at.
She scooped the eggs onto plates, added the toast, grabbed two bottles of orange juice from the fridge, and set it all on a tray.
She sighed heavily as she shut down the lights and rode the elevator to the main floor. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to offer Iris the kind of pleasure Selina implied—just the opposite was true. But working here meant putting aside her wants and desires for the betterment of humanity. Every time she stared into Iris’s eyes if only for a split second, she understood the old saying, “wrong place, wrong time,” all the way to her soul.
Chapter Ten
It turned out that Bec was a good cook. It was just bacon and eggs, but as far as Iris was concerned, it was exactly what she needed. She’d shoveled it in quickly so she could return to her work, which wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was how she didn’t want to. She wanted to linger over breakfast with a beautiful woman and enjoy her company. Had they been in any other situation, she may have, but lives were on the line, and she couldn’t—wouldn’t—put her team’s lives at risk for her desires. Maybe once she got the containment system working again so Bec had control, she could take a rest, but not before then. Since they still hadn’t heard from Ace, she could only hope he didn’t realize that she’d broken his code and got part of the system back.
“No,” Bec said from behind her. “No, no, no. Don’t do that. No.”
Iris spun around in the chair immediately. “What’s the matter?” Bec pointed at the screen on her computer, which had gone blank.
“Did he just brick it?”
Iris walked over to her desk, unconsciously inhaling deeply when she got within range of the woman sitting there. Bec’s body wash smelled of flowers and sunshine,bringing fond memories of her childhood. At least her childhood before her accident. She was seven when she’d been injured and rarely had memories of anything before that time. The scent reminded her of being at a park with her mother. They were laughing as they sat on a swing together. Whether it was a real memory or one fabricated by the injury was a question she’d have to ask herself later.
“Did you touch it?” Iris asked, leaning on the desk as she stared at the screen.
“No. The screen blinked, which caught my attention, and then went black. Did the cord get knocked—”
A cursor flashed on the screen, and a message started to scroll across as though someone was typing.
“‘If you want to protect the world and see your colleague alive, you’ll have fifty million dollars ready in forty-eight hours,’” Iris read. “‘More instructions to follow. Try anything funny with the police, and you and half the world will be dead.’”
