Page 13 of He is… Creed: Part Two

I grab the sink again with both hands, my knees wobbling. “What have you done to me, Creed?” I whisper.

Chapter Eleven

Creed

Only minutes after leaving Addie in the hotel restroom, I appear on the roof, damn thankful that Caleb has not arrived yet, pacing off my raging energy. I’m coming out of my skin, reveling in the memory of holding Addie, tortured by how I want to claim her fully, aware of how wrong that would be of me.

I’m not like the other GTECHs. I have no idea what her bond with me will do to her over time. Hell, I don’t know if staying away from her will save her, but it has so far.

I run a hand over my face, tension rippling through every muscle of my body. I told myself I’m still a man of control, a man who, despite my close proximity to Julian, managed to hold a line of right versus wrong. I never went too far on the wrong side of that line. Yet when I’d seen Brock West touch Addie, I’d felt the lust rolling off of that bastard, and I’d been ready to kill. Had Addie not come to me when she did…Well, I don’t know what would have happened.

The wind shifts ever so slightly, and Caleb materializes, quickly assessing my edginess. “How’d it go with Addie?”

I force myself to stop pacing, one hand on my jean-clad hip. “She’s agreed to copy the hard drive.”

Caleb narrowed his gaze. “Did you tell her you are no longer undercover inside Zodius?”

“Not directly, but I think she assumed. She’s concerned that she’s a weapon that can be used against us all.”

“And you said?"

“Not enough. I didn’t want to scare her when we can’t pull her out of here, not yet.”

He studies me a moment and says, “I’m sorry, man. I know you don’t want her involved in this. If I could turn back time and—”

“You didn’t do this, Caleb,” I say, cutting him off. “Her father did. He’s the reason that she is back on Julian’s radar. Why the hell did he bring her back here from Germany? I should have killed that SOB when I had the blade to his throat.”

I start pacing again, replaying that moment inside Groom Lake. How much I’d wanted to kill that man rather than simply put on a show for Julian. I’d known then what has been proven now. Her father has no good in him. None. Zero. But damn, the look in Addie’s eyes when that blade cut her father’s throat…It shredded me. And then following that by staying away from her had been hell, but I’d watched Julian’s soul grow darker by the day, and Ava’s with him. It's the genetic mutation, and I’m not foolish enough to not believe I’m headed there, too. I’m not taking Addie with me.

Caleb sits down on a concrete block that surrounds an air conditioner and casts the sky a thoughtful inspection, seeming to know—as he did often these past few months—where my thoughts have drifted. “Letting a man like Powell turn you into a murderer isn’t the answer.”

That stops me in my tracks. “How many people did we kill because that man ordered us to do it?”

“Because it was our duty,” Caleb reminds me. “To protect our country.”

“Knowing what we know now about Powell’s personal agendas,” I say, “I question every order he ever gave us.”

“Regardless,” Caleb waves a hand, “killing him would have been the wrong choice.”

“If I’d killed him,” I murmur disagreeably, giving Caleb my back as I turn to the skyline. “Red Dart would not be an issue now.”

Caleb steps to my side, and for a few minutes we stand there, staring into the night. “I could have killed Julian hundreds of times over,” he finally confesses.

I cut him a sharp look. “He’s your brother,” I say. “I’m the one destined to kill Julian.”

“Let’s figure out how to keep him from blowing up the world from his grave first, eh?” He pats my back—the only man alive I trust enough to allow him to touch me. “Once Addie is safe again, we should go have a long-past-due beer and plot his demise.”

A beer with Caleb. A kiss from Addie. Her safety. If only it were all so simple. But it isn’t, and we both know it.

Chapter Twelve

Addie

My black eyes will mean GTECH to Brock West.

For this reason, I do all I can and flee from the bathroom with my hotel room as my destination. With my chin low, I dart out of the room and toward the elevator, and, thank God, the car is empty when I arrive. The floors tick with excruciating slowness, and when I finally arrive in my room, I head to the bathroom and bring my image into view with a wash of relief; the black has faded to green. Seconds tick by, then a full minute, and the green remains.

I don’t know what any of this means, and with the next press meeting happening in a few minutes, I don’t have time for a deep analysis either. I have to make a fast decision. Do I dare return to the press meetings with the fear that my eyes will turn black again? If I don’t show up, my chances of gaining the wrong kind of attention from Brock are high. I have to return.

---