Chapter 8
Gemma slid to her knees, her heart dropping to the floor.
Never again. That’s done. Let it go.
How could she let something go that had become her whole world?
For a few moments, everything had been perfect. Reality had been slotted into its place, allowing her to fully experience the world for a handful of fleeting minutes. And what a world to experience.
He was magnificent. His taste was like nothing she’d ever had, a mix of savory and sweet. It was instantly addictive, and she already mourned its loss.
Gemma realized that the calm he’d brought to things still persisted. For a moment, she was able to think clearly without the press of the world overwhelming her. She replayed events in her mind, rewinding to the moment she’d entered.
He’d been searching through the cabinet, picking through the data tablets. Why?
Something strange had been going on around the Red Planet Sanitarium these last few days, but no one seemed to notice. The entire medical staff being replaced without a word or even a mention among the staff. It was as if they’d always been there, and the doctors who had come before had never existed.
And now Ian had come, him and his brother, masquerading as a potential resident when clearly something else was going on.
Maybe if she solved the mystery, she could also determine why Ian had such an effect on her. No one had ever before penetrated her consciousness in such a way. He’d awakened her, had awakened the calm inside her. She’d always known that it was in there. She’d just never had a way to access it before.
Artificial turkey and gravy sandwiches.
She could smell it coming from the mess hall. And she could hear the beginnings of the five o’clock forecast. The rhythmic squeak of the laundry cart as it rolled down the hallway.
No. It can’t be coming back so soon.
It was as if reality were a tidal wave towering above her, about to rain down its devastation.
She had to find him again, had to convince him to awaken her fully. She would do anything to regain this calm.
He’d made it clear that he wasn’t interested in continuing, and that had hurt. Gemma knew she was defective, had known it all her life. Others were able to interact with the world, and she was stuck in her blur. She couldn’t blame him for turning her away.
But for a moment there, she could have sworn that he was as attracted to her as she was to him. He’d groaned into her mouth, pulled her closer, pressed his skin against hers. Wasn’t that what was supposed to happen?
“There you are,” Charlie said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. The guy you like is in the mess hall.”
“Take me to him,” Gemma said, standing up quickly.
“What happened here?” Charlie asked, suddenly alert. “You’re talking again.”
“Won’t last. Hurry.”
Charlie grabbed her hand and sped down the hall, rushing them to the mess. Gemma closed her eyes and concentrated on the memory of his kiss, hoping to hold on long enough to see him again.
“There,” Charlie said, coming to a stop.
Gemma opened her eyes and followed her friend’s pointing finger.
Ian was seated with this brother, picking at his plate. Gemma kept her eyes on him, moving closer, pushing away the sounds and smells that were beating at her brain.
“It’s not artificial,” she said, unable to help it. His food smelled so good. But he smelled better.
“You again,” he said, not bothering to look up from his plate. “Didn’t I tell you to beat it?”
Charlie gasped from beside her. “You can’t talk to her like that!”
The male cocked an eyebrow at her friend. “She assaulted me in the therapy room. She’s lucky I don’t tell that hulk of a nurse and let her handle it.”
