Never Let Go

  He made zero sense. “But you send them out on missions. And I’m guessing guards aren’t tailing them—”

  “We have other ways of monitoring the subjects when they are sent on a mission. Believe me, we are never at risk of losing them.” His lips thinned. “Should the worst-case scenario situation ever occur, safeguards are in place. The subjects would not get away.”

  Get away. They’re prisoners. “Worst-case scenario?” Elizabeth asked softly.

  He just stared back at her. “The guards here are armed with tranqs, not real guns. We value our test subjects. Despite what you may think, they are treated well here. Yes, we can see into their rooms, but the men don’t mind that security measure. They understand that they have to prove themselves in order to be granted greater freedom.”

  Such BS.

  “Wright even brought in the best psychiatrist available to counsel the men and help with any transition issues. Dr. Cecelia Gregory. She started seeing the subjects two months ago. Right after they began field missions. They each come in twice a week to talk with her, and she monitors them—”

  “I’ll need to speak with her,” Elizabeth cut in, squaring her shoulders. She gave Landon her fiercest look. “But first, I want to see the subjects.”

  He nodded. “Okay, but I have to instruct you not to reveal the full details about Project Lazarus to Dr. Gregory.”

  “What? If she’s the shrink for the subjects, then she has to know—”

  “Dr. Gregory doesn’t know that she’s treating dead men.” His lips tightened. “Formerly dead men. That is classified information. And it’s information that isn’t relevant to her. Dr. Gregory knows the men were given a serum that made them into super soldiers, and that’s all. She understands the serum caused some unforeseen side-effects, like the memory loss, but she doesn’t know that she’s treating the dead.”

  Formerly dead men.

  “Classified. You understand that, Elizabeth?”

  She understood that Landon liked his secrets, but secrets could be very dangerous. “I heard you loud and clear.” Now, to get down to business. Elizabeth could barely contain her emotions as she said, “I want to start with Test Subject Number One.” Because she already knew who would have been given the number one. The guy Wright had wanted to lead his team of super soldiers.

  Sawyer.

  ***

  Elizabeth shut the exam room door behind her. Her fingers were trembling, and every breath that she took seemed to chill her lungs. Her gaze darted around the small room, checking out the instrument trays, the assorted machines, and the two security cameras positioned in two of the upper corners of the room.

  Someone is watching. From what she’d been able to tell, someone was always watching in this facility. She’d spied plenty of cameras so far during her time at the—

  “You’re new.”

  She jerked at his voice. A voice that haunted her dreams. Rough and low. Dark. Elizabeth had deliberately kept her gaze away from the man who sat on the edge of the exam table.

  But now her gaze slid toward him, helplessly, and the pain that hit Elizabeth seemed to stab into her heart with the force of a knife’s blade.

  Sawyer. Her Sawyer.

  He wore a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. His black hair was tousled, as if he’d run his fingers through it—and his hair was longer than it had been before. His dark blue eyes studied her. His handsome face was tense, and his head tilted as his stare swept over her.

  Her knees gave way, and Elizabeth staggered.

  Before she could fall face-first onto the tile, he was there. Sawyer vaulted off the exam table and grabbed her arms. His hands curled around her and heat surged through Elizabeth at his touch.

  Sawyer.

  Elizabeth blinked away tears as the pain in her heart just got worse. So much worse.

  I found you, Sawyer. I found—

  “Are you all right?” He frowned at her. “Maybe you’re the one who should be on the exam table.”

  He stared at her with those familiar dark blue eyes. He stared at her…and there was zero recognition in his gaze.

  No memory. No memory of his life before Lazarus.

  No memory of…her. Elizabeth hadn’t thought she could hurt more. She’d been wrong.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get some help,” Sawyer assured her.

  He isn’t Sawyer. He’s Test Subject Number One. I’m not supposed to call him by his name. I’m supposed to call him One. Those had been Landon’s instructions to her. A requirement before he agreed to let her finally see the subjects. But…

  Screw Landon.

  “You stay here,” Sawyer, said as he released her. “I’ll be—”

  “I-I don’t need help.” Her voice came out low and husky. Shaking.

  He blinked at her. A faint furrow appeared between his brows.

  “I’m fine.” Liar, liar. “P-please…get back on the exam table.”

  But he didn’t move. Was it her imagination, or had his shoulders stiffened? His body seemed tense. And he—

  He leaned in close to her. He put his face right in the curve of her neck.

  Elizabeth froze. Absolutely froze.

  “Strawberries,” he whispered.

  Her body swayed toward him. Did he remember? Her scent, he’d—

  Sawyer—Subject One—gave a little laugh as he pulled back from her. “You smell just like the strawberries we had for dessert last night.”

  Elizabeth licked her lips. “It’s my lotion. Um, would you…would you please go back to the exam table?”

  He lifted a brow at her. “Not gonna fall on me, are you?” And there it was. The faintest hint of his Texas accent. Hearing it hurt her.

  “I won’t fall.” Another lie. She’d fallen hard for him, long ago. “I promise.”

  Sawyer went back to the exam table. He hopped up on it. His long legs dangled over the edge. He crossed his arms over his powerful chest and studied her. “You’re new,” he said again.

  “I…I’m Elizabeth Parker.”

  A wry smile curved his lips. It was a smile that never reached his eyes. A smile Elizabeth recognized—his cold, pissed smile. His dimple didn’t wink. “And I’m Subject Number One.”

  She flinched.

  “But then, I guess you know that, don’t you?” His eyes drifted over her. “Another doctor to poke and prod at me. Only I don’t need prodding. I came back from the last mission just fine. Another exam is pointless.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that.” She forced herself to move closer to him. One halting step at a time. Her gaze darted around the room, and she saw a stethoscope on the exam tray. She grabbed it, sliding it around her neck. “I’d like to listen to your heart.” I’d like to make this nightmare go away. I’d like to make everything better for you. I’d like—

  “You’re scared of me.”

  Her stare flew back to him.

  His gaze was on her fingers, the fingers that were still curled around the stethoscope. “Your hands are trembling.”

  Yes, they were. Actually, every part of her body was trembling.

  “That’s why you stumbled when you came into the room, isn’t it?” Sawyer—Subject One!—pressed, voice gruff. “Because you were afraid of being alone with me.”

  Once more, she forced herself to move forward. She stopped when she was right in front of him. His legs were spread, giving her the room to move even closer to him, if she wanted.

  She didn’t move closer to him. “Don’t be silly,” Elizabeth chided. “Why would I be scared of you?”

  And then she remembered the sound of her own scream. The sight of Sawyer holding a gun. Firing it at the guards. Then pointing the gun at her…as he stared at her with zero recognition in his eyes. Now she understood why he’d stared at her as if she was a stranger. To him, she was.

  Dammit, yes, I am scared of him. I’m terrified. But fear wasn’t going to stop her.

  Elizabeth exhaled slowly. “I just need to listen to your heartbeat—”
/>
  “Yours is racing far too fast. A sure sign…that you’re scared of me.”

  Her eyes widened. “You can hear my heartbeat?” Before coming into the exam room, she’d read the notes in his file. Landon had indicated all of the test subjects had elevated senses, but to be able to actually hear her heartbeat—

  His right hand rose. His fingertips—slightly callused, just as she remembered—skated down the curve of her throat.

  Elizabeth shivered as his gaze narrowed on her.

  “I can see your pulse racing.” His fingers caressed her skin. “Right…here.” And his fingers were over her frantically racing pulse. “I scare you.”

  She forced a smile. You terrify me.

  He blinked at her smile. “Wrong.”

  Her smile slipped. “Excuse me?”

  But Sawyer shook his head, as if he were confused, and his hand slipped away from her throat. “I won’t…hurt you.” His words were halting, as if he had to force them out.

  Elizabeth locked her knees. “I need to get started on the exam.” Fumbling, she lifted the stethoscope—

  Sawyer yanked off his shirt.

  He had new scars. At least five of them. New scars that were white lines of raised flesh over his skin. Her lips parted as she stared at them.

  “Thought that would make it easier for you.”

  Her stare rose to his face.

  He shrugged one powerful shoulder. “Usually the male doc gets me to strip down to my underwear for the exam. You want the same thing?”

  “Y-you’ve been injured.”

  Another shrug. As if injuries didn’t matter. “Took a few slices from a knife on one of the earlier missions. Then had to get a bullet wound stitched up after a fire-fight. No big deal.”

  No big deal. “That hasn’t changed.” The words slipped from her, and Elizabeth immediately wished that she could pull them back. But for just an instant, she’d seen the man he’d been. Her confident soldier. The battle-ready warrior who never admitted to feeling pain.

  The man who’d died.

  His gaze was assessing as it focused on her face.

  Get a grip, Elizabeth. If you screw up, the guards will drag you out of here, and all of your grand plans will go straight to hell.

  “Want to say that again?” Sawyer muttered.

  I can’t think of him as Subject One.

  “’Cause I don’t think I heard you quite right.”

  Elizabeth sucked in some deep, steadying breaths. Her eyes flew to the nearest video camera. Someone was watching. Always. She had to remember that. “I need you to relax while I check your heart rate.” She positioned the stethoscope right over his chest. She could hear the beat of his heart. But…faster than normal. Elevated. Her fingers pressed to his shoulder, and his skin’s heat almost singed her.

  Elevated body temperature. That bit had been in Landon’s notes. The test subjects kept a slightly higher than average body temperature. Their heartbeats tended to stay faster than an average human’s, too. Their reflexes were better. Their muscles stronger. Even their healing abilities had increased.

  No wonder Wright was desperate to get you all in the field.

  “So tell me the verdict, doc…”

  Doc. She blinked fast, refusing to let any tears fall.

  “Am I alive…or dead?”

  His words were obviously meant to be flippant, but Elizabeth jerked away from him, pulling the stethoscope with her.

  His hand flew out and curled around her wrist.

  She stilled.

  We’ve done this before.

  So many times. Stood close in an exam room. Stared into each other’s eyes. Felt the tension thicken the air. Sawyer…

  Did he remember? At all? Anything?

  His hold tightened on her. He pulled her closer once more, and she found herself standing between his spread legs. His heat surrounded her. His rich, masculine scent—still so familiar—tormented her. She was staring right at the man she’d loved and lost, and there was no recognition on his face. No hint of emotion. Nothing at all.

  “Am I alive?” he repeated, and his mouth hitched up into the half-smile that was painful to see. “Or dead?”

  My Sawyer is dead. Subject One is staring at me. Had Landon been right? Were the test subjects truly so different? Not the men they’d been at all…but new people now.

  “Alive, of course.” She tugged her hand free of his hold. She had to get out of that little exam room, if only for a few moments because Elizabeth couldn’t breathe right then. Being so close to him was wrecking her. “Excuse me, I-I need to check something outside.” She practically ran for the door. Her hand curled around the knob and—

  “Wrong answer.” His voice was so soft that she almost didn’t hear the words. “I’m dead.”

  Her head whipped back. She stared at him in horror. “Y-you…you…”

  Sawyer smiled at her, flashing the dimple in his left cheek. “Obviously, I’m kidding, doc. You seem stressed. Thought a joke might lighten your mood.”

  No, just the opposite. Because he hadn’t been kidding. Sawyer didn’t even realize it, but he’d just spoken the truth. He was dead.

  And her heart hurt even more.

  Chapter Seven

  Lust was new. The desire that twisted his guts and made his cock ache—it was new. Since waking up in hell, Subject One hadn’t wanted anyone. Not the female guards or doctors. Not the male ones. Not even the pretty shrink who came in to talk to them all about how they were feeling.

  Subject One—or, well, One, as he was called by the others—he knew what lust was. Just as he knew about love and hate and rage. He was familiar with all of the emotions and needs out there. He knew what things were called—he knew he was currently sitting in a ten-feet-wide cell, that he was leaning back on a cot, and that the cell room door was automatically locked behind him every single time that he stepped inside.

  He knew what things were called. He knew emotions. He knew how to fight. Oh, hell, yes, One knew how to fight. How to kill.

  But…

  His mind was messed up. One knew that, too. Because when he tried to see his past, to recall what his life had been like before he’d woken up in hell, there was nothing.

  He didn’t remember growing up. He was an adult, he’d seen his own reflection in a mirror—One figured he was in his late twenties or early thirties—so he must have been a kid at some point but…

  Don’t remember that. Don’t remember a family. Don’t remember a lover. Don’t remember anything before this place.

  So One didn’t remember feeling lust before.

  But he’d sure felt it that day, with her. With the new doc. Elizabeth Parker.

  The doctor with the long, dark hair. Hair that she’d pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck. He’d wanted to pull her hair free, to see it tumbling over her shoulders. Her hair and her eyes had been so dark. That warm, chocolate gaze of hers had seemed to peer right into his soul.

  Only I don’t have a soul.

  Her face had been damn beautiful. But…delicate. Fragile. She’d seemed too delicate, with her pale skin and the shadows that drifted under her gorgeous eyes. He’d wondered if something might be wrong with her. She was so thin, and when he’d first seen her, for just a moment, he’d actually thought…

  She’s lost weight.

  Which was a fucking stupid thought, because he didn’t know the new doc. So he had no clue if she’d lost weight or not.

  He didn’t know anyone, not really…just the other members of his team. The men who risked their lives with him as they fought the enemy.

  The men who were kept in cages, just like he was.

  If we’re the good guys, then why the hell are we locked up? The question raged inside of him, a question that he’d actually asked that fucker Landon more than a few times. Only One never got any other answer except—

  “The cells are for your safety.”

  Screw that shit.

  They were weapons. One knew
exactly what they were. Weapons that were kept locked up because they were so dangerous.

  Only they weren’t going to stay caged forever.

  Even a beast dreams of freedom.

  He spread his body out on the narrow bed. More of a damn cot than a bed. The ache of desire was still there, thickening his cock. The doc’s scent—strawberries—had been so sweet. He’d wanted to take a bite…of her. He’d wanted to put his mouth on her skin, right there on the curve of her neck as it met her shoulder, and see if she tasted as good as she smelled.

  Lust. Figured it would hit now, just when he’d been making plans to escape. No matter. The sexy little doc with her dark eyes and husky voice wasn’t going to slow him down. He’d be getting out of hell.

  One closed his eyes. His breathing slid in and out, and he slipped into dreams. The same dark dreams of fucking nothing that he always had.

  Only…that darkness didn’t last. Not this time.

  ***

  He pinned the dark-haired beauty between his body and the wooden door. The scent of strawberries teased his nose. “You kept me waiting.” His words were a growl.

  “I—”

  “Gonna have to make you pay for that.” His right hand moved down to grab the material of her dress. “Feels like fucking silk…” He wasn’t talking about the dress. He was talking about her perfect skin. The dress was just in his way. He wanted it gone. He wanted to be flesh to flesh with her. He wanted to be in her. “Are you wearing panties?”

  He didn’t give her a chance to reply. Instead, he shoved the fabric of her dress out of the way, and his fingers pushed between her legs. Sweet, fucking hell…she wasn’t wearing panties. His fingers touched her naked sex. He almost came right then and there. His body shuddered.

  “Fuck, baby, what you do to me…” His fingers slid over her sex. Carefully at first, because she was so delicate, especially compared to him.

  Her head tipped back against the door, and her lips pressed together. So sexy. That dark hair. That gorgeous skin. Those red lips…

  “You’re already wet.” One finger caressed her clit and her whole body jerked. His mouth pressed to her throat, kissing, licking, and then he gave a little nip. “Did you miss me as fucking much as I missed you?” Because he’d been in hell without her. Desperate, every single moment, to get back to her. Being apart from her was a raw agony that ripped right through him.