The Galilee Falls Trilogy (Book 3): Fall of Heroes (30 page)

Wish I had his confidence. “Mind going the extra mile?”

“For you I’ll to Tibet.”

“I heard you closed down Blackwater.”

“That was always the plan. Projections show we’ll net fifty million. Why?”

“I’ve been trying to get in touch with the lead researcher on the gene therapy project. Dr. Sharpesh.”

“Why?”

“This virus targets a specific gene. He’s a genetic bioengineer working on adenoviruses. If I remember correctly from the Pendergast reports, he was close to a breakthrough. We thought that’s why you wanted Blackwater.”

“Jo, we reviewed his research through back channels during the deal. He was a decade away from anything viable. I’m hardly going to junk a company potentially worth billions.”

Damn it. “I’d still like to talk to him. Maybe have him send what he has to the health department. We are running seriously low on time here.”

“What’s your telephone number there?” I give it to him. “I’ll see what I can do. Anything else? Are you close to tracking down the kidnappers?”

“Maybe. Have you ever heard of The Motoneslly Group or Peter Miller and Victoria Lancaster?”

“The company name rings a tiny bell. A charity of some kind, no?”

“Investment firm. They’re based in the Caymans but have an office in Independence and the so called executives claim to have an apartment just around the corner from you.”

“So called?”

“If those two exist outside of a computer I’m the Queen of Sheba. It’s a shell company.”

“Why do you think this shell’s involved?”

“They own Biodyne who just
happened
to have a serum for this specific flu. A flu only before known of in a small African village.”

“Sounds like a tenuous link at best, Jo.”

“Maybe, but my gut tells me this is them. Just have to crack the shell, and we’ve got ‘em.”

“I’ll ask around. See if I can find you a hammer, but now I have to go. I’m already late for a meeting.”

“Okay. Call me if you find anything useful. And I know I haven’t said it, but words can’t express how much I appreciate all you’re doing for me.”

“You’d do it for me.”
“Damn straight, playboy. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, gorgeous.” He hangs up.

Worth a shot, even if I do feel like I need a shower now. If leading him on leads me to a cure, I can live with that. And thinking of showers…and food, and coffee. If I intend to pull an all-nighter, all of the above will be required. Sadly the price for those necessities proves to be blood, saliva, urine, and more tests. The showers have hot water today at least, I get clean sweats and underwear, and there’s a ham and cheese sandwich left. No coffee though. “We’re making a fresh pot,” the lab assistant informs me as she escorts me out of the lab. “We’ll bring it out to you all soon.”

“Thanks. And can you please remind Dr. Ambrose to eat? He forgets,” I say.

“I think he did eat before he went upstairs.”

“Upstairs?”

“He said he needed a nap. I assume that’s where he went.”

As usual I have to wait a full minute at the threshold with a rock in my stomach as the UV lights zap any stray virus from my skin before I can run two steps at a time upstairs. He
could
just be tired. Even he needs at least two hours of sleep a night to recharge. But he got four last night. Yeah, I fucking sprint down the hall to his bedroom and knock harder than needed. “Who is it?” Jem asks.

“Jo. Can I come in?”

“Of course.” The rock in my stomach expands to my chest when I lay eyes on him. He can try to hide it behind that smile, but be it how pale he is or the fact that smile momentarily falters when he moves his head to look at me from the bed, I know something’s wrong. Still, he says, “Hi,” as that smile grows.

I shut the door and rush over to him. “What’s the matter?” He doesn’t get up, doesn’t even lift his head from the pillow. I feel his forehead. Not hot but definitely cold and clammy. “Has the vertigo gotten worse?”

“I’m fine,” he assures me.

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Jem Ambrose. Not to me.”

His smile slowly fades even becoming a frown. “Come lie down.” He pats the bed. “It’s difficult to keep my head at this angle. You’re making the world tilt on its axis. Although you always were good at that.”

“Not so bad at it yourself,” I say as I climb into bed. I rest my head on the pillow so we’re staring at one another like we have so many precious nights and days. For a moment, as I gaze into those sapphire pools rimmed with thick coal black lashes, it’s as if we’re back in our penthouse after a long day finally able to relax. Finally safe with the one person who understands. The most perfect moments of my life. But the moment passes when I notice how red the whites of his eyes are. “How bad is it?”

“The vertigo is progressing with more frequent bouts that last longer. Half an hour this time. My strength…I’m not sure I could lift you now. I cut my finger two hours ago and it’s just now healing. I’m exhausted. My body, my mind. I can’t focus. I don’t know how much longer I can hide this from them.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t. There are drugs that help with vertigo and—”

“The moment I tell them I’m symptomatic they’ll drag me to the hospital where I’m under twenty-four hour surveillance hooked up to machines with no communication outside.”

“And where they can manage your symptoms,” I stress. “Maybe they can slow the progression. Buy time.”

“Joanna…” He tries to find the right words, but judging from the sad smile he affixes, there are none. “My body is attacking itself. Every organ, every cell. By tomorrow I won’t be able to hide it. At this rate of progression I have two days—”

“
No
.”

“…until I am in full systemic organ failure.”

“No,” I say. I’m surprised I can talk my heart’s pounding so hard and the weight of that boulder in my gut makes it seem like I weigh a literal ton.

“They can keep me on life support for perhaps a week, but…unless my regen can be fully restored, the damage will be irreparable. Even with it, I’m not sure that much damage can be reversed. You still hold my power of attorney. It will fall to you to—”

“Pull the plug? Kill you?” I ask, voice brittle.

“End my suffering.”

I shake my head on the pillow. “You can’t ask that of me.”

He reaches across to caress my cheek with his thumb. “I know. But I am. And I trust you to make the right decision.” He wipes my tear away.

Goddamn it. I’m crying again. Sniffling like a weakling. “This is a pointless conversation. We-We’re close to finding them. The Motoneslly Group. It’s a shell corporation. They-They own controlling interest in Biodyne, a medical supply company, an airline, and those are just the ones we know of right now. By tomorrow we’ll have them.”

“Joanna…”

“You are
not
going to die,” I say with utter certainty.

The love of my life smiles again. As if he actually believes me. Guess I’ll have to keep the faith for us both. It is my turn after all.
His
faith got us
here
. He cups my face in his palm which I kiss. “There’s so much I want to say to you,” he whispers. “So much…” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Ho-How difficult is it to hang up a towel?”

I do a literal double take. “What?”

He opens his eyes again. “Or put the cap back on the toothpaste? Or wipe the counters when they’re dirty? I
hate
how much of a slob you are. It drives me mad.”

“I-I’m sorry,” I chuckle.

“I hate how you snore and steal the covers. It’s a miracle if I get a few hours of sleep.”

“Wait, is that why you bought the earplugs? You told me it was because you could hear the neighbors when they got up in the morning.”

“I lied to spare your feelings.” He pauses. “Just like I lied when I said I enjoy those action and horror films you drag me to on date night. I loathe them. Just as I loathe when we’re out at a business or formal function and you spew vulgarities. You swear more than is necessary in any situation. It embarrasses me. And I hate…” He pauses for a second, the sides of his mouth twitching, “I
hate
that you slept with Bennett Stone.
I hate it
. It was cruel. Vindictive. And I didn’t deserve that.”

“No. You didn’t. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know. And I forgive you.” He smiles. “With all my heart and soul, I forgive you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as another tear falls. “And I’m sorry…for all the cruel things I said. How I behaved.”

“
That
I deserved. I should have told you about Justin.”

“Yes, you should have,” I whisper before slowly smiling. “But I forgive you.”

Jem lets out a tiny sob as tears spring from his eyes too. “You do?”

My turn to wipe his tears away. “Yes. I forgive you because…I don’t have a choice. The only other option is not having you in my life, and that’s not a goddamn option. I’ve tried to hate you. To not feel a damn thing about you, but…seems the only thing I can do is love you. Because in spite of being an anal retentive, awkward, know-it-all, you’re also the sweetest, kindest, most brilliant, best man I have or will ever meet. You showed me I was worthy of love. That I’m just not some coarse, bitchy, pigheaded, damaged thing. You made me
believe
it.”

“How could you have ever doubted that?” he asks desperately. “How can you not see what I do? Joanna, you…are
beautiful
. Not only on the outside. Whenever I look at you, whenever I watch you talking to people, fighting for what you believe in, fighting to make this world just a fraction better, I swell with such pride. That this astonishingly, clever, fierce warrior is mine. That
she
deigned to cast her lot with mine. That she thought me worthwhile enough to piece me back together. To bring me back to life with her love. How could that woman
not
be worthy of love?” he asks as if he cannot fathom it. “You are a miracle, Joanna Fallon. Don’t you
dare
think otherwise. Not for a single solitary moment.”

I stare at this man. This god among men who accepts me as is. The love of my otherwise dark, cold, cruel world and feel as if I’m going to burst with light. With pure happiness. How did I think for a minute I could live without him? “Marry me.”

The corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. “What?”

“Not this again,” I chuckle. “You heard me, Ambrose. Marry me.”

His smile wanes. “If this is merely because I’m dying—”

“Excuse me, you’re the one here who thinks you’re dying,” I point out. “I
know
you’re not. I’m asking because…I love you. Because I know we’re going to get our million nights and there isn’t a single one of those where I don’t want to be by your side.” I shrug. “It’s as simple as that, genius.”

“Then I guess I better marry you, huh?” he chuckles.

“Damn straight.”

He breaks into happy tears, as do I, before I bridge the now minuscule space between us until it’s gone forever. We kiss and caress the sins of the past away. I’m sweet and gentle, something only he draws out of me. I never want to make love to another man again. I never will. Only him. Afterward is just as perfect, lying in each other’s arms, my head resting over his heart.

“I missed you,” he whispers as he strokes my hair. “I missed you so much. Your smell. Your laugh.”

“My snoring?” I quip.

“Even that.”

I rest my chin on his chest and gaze up at my fiancée. “Well, unless you have any more life altering secrets hidden away, you’re stuck with me now.” He stares down but doesn’t smile. I can read his face better than a book. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anyone on this earth.”

“Then why won’t you trust me now? Trust me on this? If you think I’m going to let a little microscopic bug take you from me, you are not as smart as you pretend to be. This isn’t over. We’re just beginning. I refuse to become a damn widow before we’re even married, and we
are
getting married. We are going to stand before our friends, our family, God and whoever the hell else is listening and pledge our love and fidelity to one another. We are gonna let the world know what we already do: we’re friends. Lovers. Partners. You’re not standing me up, Ambrose.”

“Never,” he says, finally smiling.

“Then you just lie back and let me save
you
this time.”

He caresses my cheek, the smile growing. “You already have.”

And I’m damn well going to again. He’s all I have. All I want. I need him. And nothing will stop me from getting my million nights and a million more with him.

Nothing
.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Down and Out

For the first time since we last slept in the same bed, I wake feeling like an actual human person. Rested. Coherent. The only problem is I wake alone and slept five hours longer than I’d wanted. I can still smell him on the pillow and take a few more seconds to savor that. To remember his touch, his taste, his kisses and laughs. How could I have thought I wanted to go through life without them? That bleak thought spurs me out of the warm, comfy bed to quickly dress into my sweats and hustle downstairs. I can’t save him from bed.

Unfortunately, I’m not the only one up at four AM. I pay the price of needing to use their toilets with more blood, urine, and lung secretion tests. At least I get cereal with real milk out of the bargain. Jem’s in their lab, working away already. My lab rat duty done, it’s my turn to get to work. I find Doris all by her lonesome in The Chamber. Harry must be sleeping. Smart man. First I check Harry’s notes on Biodyne. Seems while I was getting laid, he was working. That’s why he’s the best.

Per his investigation, he found no evidence of Biodyne researching adenoviruses. None of the doctors on our list, save for one, has ever worked there, and that one doctor has since moved to India to work on stem cell research. Shit. Of course this doesn’t mean Biodyne’s clean, but its disconcerting. They could have kept the research off the books, secretly funded by Motoneslly through back channels. A forensic accountant could suss that out but it’d take months. We—