26
Reaper yankedthe camouflage netting off the small helicopter he’d stashed at the edge of the jungle. It could accommodate two people, but that wasn’t something he had to worry about now.
He had the serum. That was the only thing that mattered.
He didn’t need Caroline Cotter or her feelings. He needed to remember who he was—a cold-blooded assassin without a family and without any hope for an existence outside his training.
He dug in the wet dirt at the front end of the helo, pulled out the small metal box containing the keys, and opened the bubble-shaped glass door. Two empty seatsgreeted him.
Caroline should be here. You left her tied up on that bed. Anything could happen to her.
Sweat formed along his brow and dripped down his arms. Climbing into the cab of the helo was a lot harder than he’d anticipated. He couldn’t stop looking back over his shoulder, as if he had X-ray vision that could slice through the miles of trees and jungle separating them.
Not that he wanted to see her tear-stained face. Or pretend like he didn’t feel the guilt wrapping around his spine and digging in deep.
Maybe he should go back—
He climbed inside and sat down, fisting his hands on his thighs, fighting every muscle in his body to keep from rocketing back through the jungle. The thought of her alone in that hut made it hard to breathe.
No, he couldn’t afford to be emotionally attached to her.
He jammed the key into the ignition. As soon as he got the drugs to his team, he’d come back for her, and by then he would’ve had enough time to rid himself of this weakness of wanting things he couldn’t have.
By then, he would be just as numb on the inside as he had been since losing his best friend in the streets of Afghanistan.
By then, maybe he could look at Caroline and not feel this hollow ache in his chest.
Reaper tightened his hand on the key but didn’t rotate it to the right.
Instead he sat back in his seat, staring straight ahead.
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t leave her.
She meant more to him than his team or his sanity.
He grabbed his gun and the serum and took a step from the cab. He didn’t know how, but he had to get her back.
Burning shockwaves of electricity seared outward from the base of his skull, blazing a path across his neck and shoulders. He seized, falling from the open door of the copter onto the ground.
He grabbed his head and screamed.
When the pulsing waves subsided, he shifted his fingers and brushed his thumb across a small, hot knot just to the left of the place where his spinal cord entered his skull. Tingles shot through his thumb when he touched it, and he yanked his hand back, staring at it in shock.
Dammit.
He traced the pad of his finger across the bump on his skin again and electric pulses shot through his hand.
He hurried back to the helicopter, tilting the square pull-down mirror so he could examine the back of his neck. There was a visible red, blinking light just beneath his skin.
Son of a bitch, those fuckers had implanted something inside him. He’d suspected it, even searched his body for it, but this was the first time he’d seen any evidence.
Whatever that thing was, it had to come out.
He pulled his knife from his pocket and flipped it open and then twisted in the seat ’til he could see most of the knot protruding from the back of his neck in the mirror’s reflection. Without hesitating, he pierced his skin with the tip of his knife and sliced down. Blood poured from the wound and his exposed nerves burned.
Ignoring the pain, he carefully inserted the tip of his knife into the cut and pried out the thing that was buried in his flesh.
The tiny device fell into the cup of his hand, and electrical shocks zapping him on contact.
