Page 15 of He Is Jensen: Part One

As if she’s rejecting that idea, I reach for her knees, only to have her shift them to the right. I sigh with acceptance of how much I deserve such an action and lower my voice. “I promised to ensure you aid Julian’s scientific efforts. It’s what I had to tell him.”

Her bottom lip trembles. “And you get what in return?”

“The only thing I asked for,” I say. “You. I get you, Layla. And an assurance Tad and none of the other men touch you.” My gaze narrows on her trembling hand. “You’re cold. I’ll get you another towel.”

She captures my hand, halting my movement, but the touch—the willingness to touch me—tells a story. Deep down, she trusts me, but logic is working her over, warning her that she knows so little about me.

“I’m not cold,” she declares, and then hesitates, her lips trembling now as well. “It just started. I…do believe I’m in withdrawal.”

Damn it to hell, I think. They’ve turned this beautiful, talented, intelligent, and innocent woman into a lab rat and drug addict, and it’s killing me. I want to save her. I need to save her, but I can’t even take her away from this place without killing her in the process.

In an effort to downplay the situation, I reach for the serum and pull the top off the vial. “Down the hatch, baby.”

She holds up her shaking hands. “I don’t want it.”

“I know. I get it. Believe me, Layla, if I had the chance to turn down what’s been done to me, I would have, but neither of us were given that option.”

“Even knowing now that others, like Julian, would be set free to torment us all?”

My jaw flexes with a bite of muscle and reality. “If I could turn back time, I’d stop it all from happening somehow, someway, but since I can’t, you’re right. Better to be as I am so I can fight. The same applies to you. We need you in this war.Ineed you in this war.”And I do, I think. There’s something about Layla that has always drawn me to her—to know her, to touch her.

To want her.

She reaches for the vial and downs the contents, choking with the bitterness of the punch and grimacing. “I hate to think what that stuff is doing to me.”

“And everyone else that’s taking it. That’s why you have to survive. To find a way to make the world a better place. To find a way to make people better.”

“I just pray it’s not too late,” she murmurs.

I don’t reply. There’s not much to say. We all hope it’s not too late, but to some degree, the world is forever changed. I can’t promise her that can be reversed. That would mean wishing myself dead, and maybe her as well. Instead, I sit down on the side of the tub with her, expecting her to remain weak for a while longer. I drape my arm around her shoulders, and she leans into me, allowing my body to absorb hers. She is soft and tiny, and yet as big a weapon in this war as any of us can imagine.

For a long time, we just sit there, the two of us, with the rest of the world blocked out, while monsters lurk just beyond these walls, ready to torture us for anything less than total submission.

Chapter ten

Layla

Five minutes after dosingwith ICE, my body calms, at least where the drug addiction comes into play. My body’s reaction to Jensen is a whole other story. I’ve never felt as sexually alive as I do with him, as charged and physically aware of another human being. I’d say it’s the drug, but I’ve always been this way around him—years ago in the library, standing in my own kitchen, astonished and breathless that he’d shown up at my front door. In truth, I’ve waited to feel that again with someone else, with “the” man I’d marry, but it just never happened.

And I wasn’t willing to settle.

A knock sounds on the door, and I’m on edge, fearful of what might follow. Was Tad unhappy with what he’d found when he visited? Is he back to take me away? Still sitting next to me on the edge of the tub, Jensen squeezes my hand. “It’s okay, Layla. I promise.”

I nod, but we both know that’s a feel-good promise, not a real one. I watch as he grabs his jeans, shoves his legs inside, and then disappears outside of the bathroom. I push to my feet andclutch my towel to my chest, barely daring. I really need clothes. This hanging out in a towel thing has a way of making me feel vulnerable. But I’m not hanging out long. Jensen returns with a bag in his hand.

“Supposedly, this has everything you might need in it,” he informs me. “Clothes, toiletries, and so on. There’s one for me, too.”

I press my lips together. “Almost as if we’re really guests.”

“There’s also this.” He hands me a note. “It was on top of a box of files.”

I glance down to read,GET TO WORK.“Such a gracious host,” I breathe out, a twist in my belly. “I need a real shower and clothes before my duty kicks in.”

He steps closer, the heat of his body washing over me, warming the chill our proof of captivity has created in me, stroking my hair behind my ear. “Take your time. I’m going to look through all that they dropped off for us.”

I nod, and he disappears out of the room and pulls the door shut while I contemplate the creeps that might be watching me, but I have to shower.

I dig in the bag and find shampoo and conditioner, body wash, make-up, and hair products. As for clothes, the selection is more limited. I end up choosing black leggings, a thick, soft black sweater, and Vans sneakers that are remarkably my size. It’s not until my products are in the shower and so am I, the spray just out of my reach, that I drop the towel and pray there are no cameras where the water flows. I’ve never showered so fast in my life. Please, let this be over, all over.

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