Page 19 of The Beast's Baby
“Wine?” she asked, smile widening. “I don’t have any glasses.”
“Right,” he said. “Right, no, you don’t.”
“And you didn’t bring any? Should we swig?” she asked, amused.
She seemed in a good mood. She must think she had him right where she wanted him. He supposed she did, just not in the way she would expect. How was he going to be able to explain this to her? They had a handful of minutes to get moving before the guards on patrol began their hourly sweep. They’d just be able to avoid them if they hurried.
“No,” he said, putting the wine bottle down on the coffee table. “Listen, you don’t know me,” he continued. “I get that. My parents split when I was five, my mother and I moved around a lot, I had to fight for every scrap until I was in my twenties. College was hard, but I managed. And I worked my way into this company, alright? I dedicated my life to science. I thought I had it made. I thought here I am, finally about to make a real difference. Not like my loser of a father, right? But… something is wrong here. You were right. Look.”
He brought out the note he’d found, handing it to her.
During his speech, Isobel’s face had gone from wondering to downright concerned and now she read the note with a deepening frown.
“Who’s Olive?” she asked.
“A friend,” he said. “One I was told quit of her own volition and maybe she did, maybe she didn’t, but I trust her. She would never have written that if something wasn’t seriously off here, okay? She was dedicated. As dedicated as I’ve been. We had a vision, you know? We bought into all of it. I’m sorry.”
“Wait,” Isobel said slowly. “How can you be telling me all this?”
“Because they switched off the cameras for our… you know,” he said. “We have very little time, but I want to help you get the fuck out of here.”
She stared at him, then her eyes lit with hope, and he smiled, giving her a nod.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“You need shoes,” he pointed out. “And a coat. It’s freezing out there.”
“I don’t have shoes,” she reminded. “Or a coat.Youdon’t have a coat.”
He looked down at himself as though he’d somehow managed to forget that, of course, he wouldn’t be wearing his coat, hat, gloves when going to woo her.
“Right,” he said. “Well, then we’ll have to be conspicuous.”
“That doesn’t sound great,” she remarked, and he reached out, grabbing her hand in a tight hold.
“Agreed,” he said. “But if we don’t leave now, we miss our chance.”
She hesitated for only a moment, and he wasn’t sure if it was because she didn’t trust him or because she was thinking about what it would be like fleeing into the freezing night without shoes on. But then she moved with him up to the door, staying close, keeping her hand in his.
They were going to have to move quickly and move together. He kept a hold on her hand, ignoring the soft and pleasurable tendrils that were running up his arm from where their skin connected.
He wondered briefly what it would be like to kiss her. What she would taste like, what her tongue against his would feel like. What type of kisser she might be.
But then he thought no, this wasn’t about that. This was possibly life or death. At least it was about freedom more than sex. No, it wasn’t about sex at all. It wasonlyabout freedom. Hersandhis. If Olive was missing, then there was no telling what these people were capable of. He’d been struggling with the guilt all afternoon, with the self-doubt that came with it. He thought of himself as someone who would step between another person and danger and yet… His morals hadn’t stopped him from ignoring the red flags. He’d chosen to ignore them because it enabled him to chase after his dreams, enabled him to believe he’d get to leave a legacy behind.
But changing the world on the suffering of others wasn’t changing anything—it was just more of the same.
He focused on the moment. He needed to get them through the corridors and out the front doors somehow and then they could deal with the rest later. There were questions. A lot of them.
“My car is in the parking lot in front of the building,” he said, opening the door and pulling her with him.
“Ah, so that’s why we need to be conspicuous,” she commented. “Doesn’t sound convenient.”
“I couldn’t move my car, okay? I’ve parked in the same spot for three years. I couldn’t risk a change to my pattern of behavior. They’re very observant here.”
“Right,” she said. “So how do you propose to get us out, then?”
“Conspicuously,” he replied, eyebrows raised. “By acting like it’s what I’m supposed to be doing,” he replied. “If anyone stops us, if anyone asks us anything, just let me do the talking.”
