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He Is Jensen: Part Two

Page 11

by Lisa Renee Jones

Katie tries to reinsert herself in the conversation. “Yes, but—”

Creed cuts her off. “Assumed lack of control. That too could be an act.”

“If I touch her mind, I’ll know if it’s an act,” Caleb assures him. “And that has to happen before we allow her near one of our facilities.”

“Quarantine her at Neonopolis,” Creed presses. “Don’t allow her inside Sunrise City. Our main headquarters needs to stay off limits.”

“I agree,” Katie argues, never one to hold back her thoughts. She’s been with the Renegades since the days of the Area 51 takeover, and she’s as devoted as any of the men to protecting her country. “She can work in a lab there and communicate with me via webcam while I evaluate her myself. And for the record, I double-checked our initial information, and not only did Layla have cancer, her treatments were highly experimental. Frankly, I don’t know how she got into the program. It’s so exclusive. We’re working on her detailed records. I’m curious to see how ICE reacts to her specific medication. It’s the most logical cause of these abilities, since she’s the only one who’s developed them. And I have to say…as bad as all this is, there could be some amazing cancer cure discovered. So in other words, get me that blood sample, Jensen. I’m dying to see what’s going on with Layla.”

“I will,” I confirm.

“She’s going to need more ICE,” Katie adds. “I have about three weeks’ worth for her, and that’s it. And that’s being really sparing in the lab to ration it.”

“I’ll get it.” My tone is firm. I’ll do it. I have to. I will.

“Back to the prior topic, Caleb,” Creed inserts, ignoring the rest of the conversation. “Don’t underestimate how much he wants you by his side. He could use this woman to manipulate your mind. He believes together you will be unstoppable—that you could rule the world.”

Caleb rubs the back of his neck. “We’ll extract at 1400 hours.” Which gives us three hours until departure. He eyes me. “I’ve already cleared nonessential personnel before her arrival.”

I inhale a rough breath and let it out. “She wants proof we aren’t working for Julian before she helps us.” It cuts deep that she doesn’t trust me, even if I’m forced to question her. I know better, but it still doesn’t sit well.

Caleb nods. “I’ll arrange documentation and a call to the White House.”

“We want proof she isn’t working for Julian as well,” Creed states flatly.

Addie elbows him. “Stop, Creed. You’ve made it clear you don’t trust her.” She removes the canvas bag from her shoulder. “I brought Layla some clothes and girl stuff to carry her over until we get to her place. I felt like this would be faster.”

I roll my chair slightly in her direction and accept the bag. “Thanks, Addie.”

“I’m happy to help,” she offers. “I only wish it were safe for me to go into the room and talk to her. The poor thing has cancer, a forced ICE addiction, Julian chasing her, and now you guys to deal with. I can’t imagine what she must be going through.”

“We don’t know she’s any of those things,” Creed grumbles.

“And we don’t know she’s not, either,” Addie reminds him.

I shake my head, amazed that this caring woman, a psychologist who worked with soldiers and their families, a friend to everyone who knows her, is the daughter of the mastermind behind the GTECH “immunizations.” But indeed, her father is General Powell, now MIA and most likely up to some government plot to control the GTECHs. And she’s been brave enough to stand against him.

Creed grimaces at his lifebond, now GTECH through their connection. “I told you not to go getting sappy over this woman, Addie. I don’t want you to become attached and get hurt. For all we know, Julian has promised to cure her cancer by making her a full GTECH in exchange for her service to him.”

“He’d never give the GTECH serum to a woman,” she scoffs. “He believes women are beneath men, meant to be converted only through lifebonding.”

“Julian often makes promises he does not intend to keep,” Creed reminds her. “Especially to women.” He cuts a glare at me. “I will continue to believe he has sent her here to infiltrate our operation and tear us down from the inside out until I have proof otherwise.” He glares at me. “You’d be smart to do the same.”

I stare bullets at Creed, ready to launch myself at him, ready to throttle him once again for being right. Creed stares right back at me, welcoming a confrontation.

Caleb looks between Creed and me, and then arches a brow. “Something I should know?”

“Nothing,” I say and mean it. Creed, in all his asshole delivery of the facts, is still right. I’m not objective with Layla. Just thinking of the way she tasted on my lips tightens my groin, and I know it’s more than that. I want her in a bad way, and fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m emotionally involved with a woman who really could be the enemy. A soldier knows better than to be emotionally involved. No more. From now on, it’ll be all business.

It’s a resolution I set solidly inside myself, just as a text message buzzes my cellphone. Thankful for the distraction, I yank my cell from my belt and glance at the screen. It’s Marcus. “It’s one of my street contacts,” I tell Caleb as I motion to the door. I’ll reply to Marcus once I’m inside. “I’ll be ready at 1400.”

“We’ll have a car and driver at the front door,” Caleb says. “You and Layla take the backseat. Make sure she’s tranq’d, Jensen. For everyone’s safety.”

“Copy that, boss,” I confirm, and when I move to exit, Addie and Creed offer me space and I own it. I don’t look at either of them. I don’t have time to punch Creed right now. That will have to wait. I head back toward the motel, a new attitude toward Layla firmly installed, or so I think.

The instant I walk into the room and shut the door, the scent of Layla permeates my nostrils, seeps into my soul, and I have to remind myself that touching her will paint a bull’s-eye on her for the Trackers. Layla is off limits.

I set the food on the table, walk to the bathroom, and knock. “I have clothes and some other items one of the Renegade’s mates put together for you. They haven’t had time to get your things as I’d hoped.”