Acceptable Risks (5 page)

“He was joking.”

“But he meant it. And all I wanted was to go to a high school dance.”

“And he knew a threat had been made against the school.”

“It was kids!” She subsided immediately, remembering other schools, threats that had been real. “Okay, I get it now, but he should have explained it instead of expecting me to just do as he told me. I was seventeen.”

“I know, Lark. He knows. No one’s patting you on the head. You have to know what the threat is to be safe from it. And we need your help.”

Well, that was a new one.

“My curiosity level just went to red. But we have to go to my apartment first.”

“Lark—”

“Jason
.
”

Jason closed his mouth. Part of her gaped in amazement that he was here. That she was talking to him. Questions raced through her head, dragging so many emotions there wasn’t time to feel them before the next one crowded in. But prioritizing them was easy.

“My work is there. The plant that led to the compound that led to the regeneration therapy that’s partly responsible for you being alive and whole. And all the data supporting it.”

Jason immediately turned the car around, and Lark sank into her seat. He didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need him to. He’d just confirmed the reason Isaac had been after her. Despite the cauldron of questions and emotions, she appreciated the silence the rest of the way to her apartment. She needed a few minutes to absorb what was happening.

Since her father didn’t exactly participate in Take Your Daughter to Work Day, Lark had never seen Jason in action. Not that she actually saw him this time, either. He left her in the car outside her apartment house and in five minutes, figured out where the Kemmerling spies were and identified their blind spots. Then he got her inside, slipping past the guard at the desk, who didn’t look up.

Lark waited until they were in the elevator before asking, “What did you do?”

Jason quirked an eyebrow in question.

“The guard ignored us. They don’t do that here, even the ones I don’t know very well.”

“Your father knows them all. It didn’t take much to convince him not to see us come in. Now he doesn’t have to lie if Isaac or his guys try to get information from him.”

Lark winced. “I hope they won’t hurt him to get it.”

“Isaac is smarter than that.”

“Yay.” Smart wasn’t a good thing in an enemy.

Jason insisted on entering the apartment first. As soon as he’d cleared the entryway, he pulled her in and made her wait by the door. The alarm was armed and undisturbed, but Lark waited patiently while he searched the rest of the apartment.

“Okay, where first?” He holstered the gun he’d strapped on in the car, hidden under a snug jacket he now wore over his super-tight long-sleeved T-shirt. Clothes that showed off in delicious detail how fit he was. Lark wondered again how that was possible. The regeneration therapy could only do so much.

“Roof. Greenhouse.” Since she had the top-floor apartment of the small building, she had the only access to the roof. Still, she breathed a sigh of relief when she found her low-tech precautions intact. Isaac must have assumed all her work would be at BotMed. But since she’d developed the compound before she went to work there, both the data and the remaining plants were all here.

She strode to the rear of the greenhouse but then stood, fists on her hips, staring at the four plants sitting on their table.

“What’s the matter?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know what to do with them. We can’t cart them all over the place. And I can’t hide them in a safe or something. They need light and air.”

Jason picked up two and carried them to another table. “Mix them in with the rest. Then pull all the labels.”

She stared at him, open-mouthed. “Pull all the labels?”

“He won’t be able to tell which ones are the right ones.”

“Neither will I!”

Jason gave her a look and came back for the other two.

“Okay, fine.” But she hesitated, then pushed the tabs with all their important data down into the soil, instead, brushing it over the top so no one could tell they were there. Jason watched for a second, then nodded and helped her.

“He doesn’t really want the plant, anyway,” Lark tried to convince herself. “He’ll want the data. It won’t help him much, though. The stuff at—wherever they treated you. That’s what he really wants.”

“He can’t get to it. This is the next best thing.” He pushed the last one down and covered it. “Come on, we’re running out of time.”

Lark didn’t need further urging. She grabbed her files from the spare bedroom, which were extensive but still fit in a lockable case Jason could carry. Then she threw a few things in a bag, checked her messages, watered her regular plants, and called work to take a leave of absence for “stress” after the afternoon’s incident. Luckily, Ralph was still tied up with the break-in. Lark left a message with his assistant, brisk and straightforward and giving her no time to ask questions. Then Jason ghosted them out again.

Back in the car a few minutes later, she took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“At the safe house.”

She considered arguing, but she didn’t want to split his attention. First, because it occurred to her he might not have driven for six months, and they’d both be safer if he could concentrate. Second, because she wanted it all. So she just said, “It better not be far.”

“It’s not.”

“Good.” She slid down on her spine and closed her eyes. “Wake me when we get there.”

Jason waited until he had some open highway and was positive they weren’t being tailed before he studied Lark. He knew she wasn’t sleeping. She’d never been able to sleep while traveling. That could have changed, but her breathing stayed light, her body held taut, if not tensely.

He let out a breath. Shit, she’d grown into her potential. Matt had shown him pictures so he’d be sure to recognize her when she wasn’t wet. The photos displayed plastic beauty. Perfect skin, brilliant teeth, smooth forehead, and glossy dark hair covering a hard shell and projecting little substance. In person, though, she was different. Her ancestry—as far as he knew, a mix of Middle Eastern, Native American, and Far Eastern origin—gave her exotically shaped dark eyes and dark hair that was almost a living color, it had so many variations. Her beauty appealed to him more than he’d have expected, and it took him off guard, even after he’d adjusted his mental image of her from coltish teenager to sophisticated woman.

Jason had watched Lark with Isaac, as he’d slipped up behind him in her greenhouse at work. She’d resisted but kept her head, didn’t do anything foolish, and had shown no fear. She’d probably kept up some self-defense training; that gave confidence in a confrontation. Plus, Donald probably
was
blind, but she wasn’t freaking out at what she’d done. The combination was a bigger turn-on than anything had been in a long time.

He glanced at her again. She had the glossy hair and the perfect skin the pictures displayed, but she also had dark dirt under her fingernails and streaking her pants. Her shirt was worn denim, and hid a body that had felt small but strong under his arm when he caught her earlier. He had a feeling she kept good care of herself out of practicality rather than vanity. She hadn’t packed a lot of makeup and junk when they were at the apartment.

He stared at the road ahead, trying to ignore the feeling filling him now. He’d conditioned himself against adrenaline-fueled attraction once he hit the management track. He worked with—and was the boss of—too many women to risk indulging it, even as a quick rush. This wasn’t like that, anyway. Not superficial excitement pumping through him, but something deeper, more complex. Fuck.

He’s your best mate
floated through his brain. Jason tried not to imagine Matt’s reaction if he ever found out. He was ten years older than Lark, for one thing. Even though Matt was ten years older than Jason, he still saw them as peers. That would affect how he saw the age difference. Matt took pride in never interfering in his daughter’s choices, but Jason knew a relationship with her would damage their friendship. Not worth it, especially now.

He rubbed a hand down his face, not quite believing his thoughts. He should be planning. Trying to get into Isaac’s head. Figuring out his next move, so he could both keep Lark safe and stop the man from achieving his goal.

Not lusting after his best friend’s daughter.

Chapter Five

Certificate of Achievement awarded to Abigail Berwell, M.D., for outstanding contribution to the advancement of medical science
.

The framed certificate hung at eye level over Gabby’s desk, but even as her eyes traced over the familiar words, her mind dismissed them. Matt had given it to her when it became clear Jason was not only going to survive, but excel, and her work might never be recognized due to the issues surrounding what they’d done. She’d been practically giddy with pleasure then. Now, she was afraid she was sinking into a deep depression.

“Dr. Berwell, we have the samples prepared for storage.”

Gabby forced a smile for the assistant who hovered in her office doorway. “Thanks, Mel. You guys can go home. I’ll put them in the locker.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind helping. There are a lot.”

Gabby stood. “No, it’s okay, it’s getting late and I’m sure you have plans. I don’t.” She winced at how pathetic that sounded. “Go ahead, it’s okay. I’ll follow protocol and you can double-check me on Monday.”

Mel laughed. No one would ever doubt Gabby’s dedication to procedure, documentation, and evidence of integrity.

“On second thought, take next week off. You’ve all earned a break. Let the others know.” She wasn’t going to be able to stand floating around here with nothing to do
and
a staff at loose ends.

“All right, Dr. B, thank you. Have a good weekend.”

“You, too.”

Mel was apparently the last one out, because when Gabby went into the lab—she hated calling it that, but face it, that’s what it was, no matter how hard she tried to humanize their work—no one else was there. The trays of tissue, blood and other samples from Jason’s treatment and recovery were on a cart by the center counter running the length of the room. Gabby spot-checked the labels, all written in a fine, meticulous hand, and nodded in satisfaction. With Jason’s treatment complete, they had to move these from the smaller refrigerator here in the lab down the hall to the larger, more secure unit.

She hated to do it.

Her footsteps echoed on the tile floor, combining with the rattle of the cart’s wheels to make her feel lonelier than ever. What the hell was she going to do now? They’d immorally, if not illegally, used untested medical treatments and technology on a live human being. There was no way their work could go forward, save for periodic checkups and tests they could do on Jason. Unless another agent got shot and knocked over a railing. Which she didn’t want to happen, of course.

An image of Matthew tumbling down the middle of a stairwell flashed into her head, and she gasped.

“Don’t think about it,” she muttered furiously, shoving the cart faster and yanking it to a halt outside the refrigeration unit. It didn’t matter that Matthew couldn’t see past her white coat and status reports. If anything happened to him, she’d be as crushed as if they were married. She keyed open the unit and pushed the cart inside, locking the hinge so the door wouldn’t close, then started transferring the trays to an empty case in the corner.

“Get over it,” she told herself. “You won’t even be seeing him anymore, now that Jason’s gone.” She grunted under the weight of a laden tray and slid it onto the shelf with a rattle. “You’ll probably be fired within a week, anyway.”

“Fired? What are you talking about?”

Gabby shrieked and jumped a foot in the air, smacking an arm into a stand of glass tubes as she spun to face the open door. Where Matthew stood. Shit.

Feeling like an idiot, she pressed her hand to her chest and blew out a breath. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you come down the hall.”

His smile was a shadow of what it had been before Jason’s accident, but it warmed her nonetheless. “I should have made more noise. What’s this about being fired?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” She checked the tubes to be sure she hadn’t broken any and turned her back to slide them into the case. “I was just talking to myself. No one else to talk to, with Jason gone.”
Idiot
. What a stupid thing to say. She had a staff, and it wasn’t as if she’d sat around shooting the breeze with her patient, anyway.

“No one’s getting fired, Dr. Berwell. There’s still a lot to be done.”

“Please, for the millionth time, call me Gabby.” She transferred the last batch of samples and closed the case, locking it and printing the record of her access. Matthew pulled the cart out into the hall and closed the door behind her, watching as she secured it, too.

“I’ll try to remember.”

They started walking down the hall, back toward the lab and her office.

“What are you…I mean, what can I help you with?” Gabby asked him.

Matthew shrugged and waited as she opened the door to the lab and stood back for him to push the cart through. “Everyone else has left for the weekend, mostly. There aren’t any active jobs I can monitor tonight. Jason checked in, and Lark’s okay. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

They went into Gabby’s office and she motioned to the love seat in one corner. Matthew dropped tiredly onto it and rubbed his hands over his face. She sat in her desk chair, watching him.

“Was Lark in trouble?”

He froze, then let his hands drop. “In a way. It doesn’t matter.”

She thought it did matter, but he’d obviously not meant to bring up the subject. “Well, I’m glad she’s okay.” They sat in silence for a minute. Gabby felt awkward and had no idea what to say. “Um…probably not the best time to ask, but…since we’re done actively testing the technology, what—what’s going to happen now?”

Matthew stared at her for a moment. She could almost see his brain click over from whatever he’d been thinking about to her question.

“Don’t worry, there’s still plenty to do. We can’t use what we learned from Jason’s application, but we can continue the work we were doing before his accident.”

That was the problem. Gabby hadn’t been involved until Jason was almost killed. She’d been a consultant on the theoretical application of the science, but only came on board full time that night to be the overseer of the medical team. They didn’t need her for that now. She wasn’t a researcher, which the program required at the stage it had been six months ago.

She sighed and pushed ahead, even though she didn’t want the answer. The uncertainty was much worse. “Given the way things have changed, though, do you really need me here?”

He frowned. “Have you had offers elsewhere?”

“No! And it’s not—I mean, I’m happy—” She deliberately stopped and tightened her jaw. She
hated
being the babbling misfit, unable to communicate smoothly with her boss. “I don’t want to go anywhere. But I can’t see what role you want me to play now.”

“Of course you have a role to play. The team is used to following you. They need you to guide them.” He leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “You know how vital it is that we go in the proper direction without taking shortcuts or revealing what we’ve done with Jason.”

She noticed his voice changed when he said his friend’s name. Not for the first time, she wondered if she was being blind. But she couldn’t ask him if he was in love with his best friend, for God’s sake.

“I thought you’d want Tompkins to take over again,” she said, a bit reluctantly.

“No, you’re a much better leader than he is,” Matthew assured her, but in a practical, not pandering, tone. “You relate to people, get the best out of them.”

She couldn’t help the blush spreading over her entire body. “Thank you. He does have the research background, though. Maybe a co-leadership would be best?”

Matthew nodded. “Sure, that could work.”

“Okay. Good.” Tension soaked out of her, and she smiled, feeling more at ease than she ever had with him.

More silence, though she didn’t think his attention went as far away this time. “Do you want to—I don’t know, go get a drink? Or dinner?” came out of her mouth before she realized she was going to say it. Mortified, she stood and took off her lab coat, turning away to hang it on the rack in the corner so she couldn’t see Matthew’s face. So he couldn’t see hers, suddenly flaming.

“It sounds great.”

She could hear regret in his voice—the upcoming “but”—and didn’t have the experience to know if it was real or fake. “It’s okay,” she said, “I’m sure you have plans with someone. I just thought, since you were at loose ends…” Though she’d turned back to face him, she kept her gaze on her desk while she retrieved her purse and glasses case.

“No, I definitely don’t.” This time he sounded amused, but he’d stood and begun moving toward the door. “I don’t feel like going out anywhere, though. I’ll just head back to the house and wait for Jase to check in again.”

“Okay.” She smiled nervously and followed him out of her office, locking it and the lab as they went out to the hall. She headed for the elevator but stopped when Matthew didn’t join her. He walked a few paces in the other direction, toward the stairs.

“Have a good weekend, Dr. Berwell.” Then he disappeared through the fire door at the end of the hall.

“It’s Gabby,” she whispered, letting go all hope he’d ever remember.

* * *

Matthew pounded up the sixth flight of stairs, halfway from the sub-basement lab to his office on the top floor. Gabby hadn’t asked, but if she had, he’d have told her it was part of his commitment to ongoing conditioning. Part of the job, more now than ever, with the flux the company was in.

It would have been a lie.

For the first two months after Jason tipped over that railing, Matthew hadn’t been able to enter an office building stairwell. Weakness was unacceptable. As soon as he knew Jason would make it, Matthew forced himself to face his fear. The long runs up and down, to and from the lab on a regular basis, had kept him in the best shape of his life, but also gave him plenty of time to come to terms with his problem.

He wasn’t into self-analysis in general, but he’d been through enough to understand its value. Growing up in gang territory, he’d seen things that had shaped him, carved him—even gouged him. Joining a non-military black ops organization hadn’t been the escape he’d intended it to be. He’d only shared his past with two people: Jason and Kelly. She had taught him how to be happy, and when she died, he refused to disgrace her memory by turning his back on that happiness. Jason helped, probably more than he realized. Back then, understanding himself, his feelings, and his role in his daughter’s life had been the key to staying out of the darkness.

Somehow, it wasn’t working now.

He pushed harder around the eighth floor landing, his breath blowing out in short bursts. It didn’t take a genius psychologist to tell him why he hated stairwells now. He didn’t expect bullets to come flying down every flight, or dark shapes to attack him from under landings. No, it was that image, the horror of Jason’s crashing fall, that made it so difficult.

Gabby thought he was gay. He slowed at the ninth floor and checked the door, making sure it was locked. Telling her he wasn’t would have made things even more awkward between them. He wasn’t too preoccupied to notice her crush. But he didn’t have anything to give anyone right now, never mind a smart, sweet-natured, pit bull of a woman who deserved more than he could offer even before all this mess happened. So he let the question go unanswered, called her Dr. Berwell, and hoped things evened out over time.

No, he wasn’t gay. But the pain when he lost Jason had rivaled the pain of losing Kelly. Lark had teased him once, back during some psych or sociology class she’d been taking in college, that he and Jason were platonic soulmates. He’d scoffed, but she was right. Matthew had never known another person—except Kelly—who understood him and supported him like Jason did. Jason wasn’t afraid to tell him when he was being stupid, or an ass, or both. But he had Matthew’s back, no matter what, and that was something you didn’t let get away.