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Max’s dry lips parted, and he reached for her hand.
And if any part of his story was true? She knew the secrecy of that lab better than anyone. Those two men with the automatic weapons had been waiting at her house, for her. Max had saved her.
She curled her fingers around his and squeezed. “I’ll be right back.”
She ran to the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel. She held it under a stream of cool water and grabbed a bottle of the stuff on her way back to Max. She swept a pillow from the bed and sat on the floor beside his prone form.
He’d rolled to his back, so at least he wasn’t unconscious.
Pressing two fingers against his neck, she checked his pulse—rapid but strong. She dabbed his face with the wet towel and eased a pillow beneath his head.
“Can you drink some water? Are you in any pain?” She held up the bottle.
“The pills.” His voice rasped from his throat.
They were back to the pills? “What pills, Max?”
His hand dropped to his side, and she remembered what he’d said before he collapsed. His pocket.
She skimmed her hand across the rough material of one pocket and then the other, her fingers tracing the edges of a hard, square object. She dug her fingers into the pocket and pulled out a small tin of breath mints, but when she opened the lid no minty freshness greeted her.
Five round blue pills nestled together in the corner of the tin. She held up the container to his face. “These pills?”
His chin dipped to his chest, and she shook the pills into her palm.
He held up his index finger.
“Just one?”
He hissed, a sound that probably meant yes.
She picked up one pill between two fingers and placed it into his mouth. Then she held the water bottle up to his lips, while curling an arm around the back of his head to prop him up.
He swallowed the water and the pill disappeared. His spiky, dark lashes closed over his eyes and he melted against her arm. Her fingers burrowed into his thick, black hair as she dabbed his face with the towel.
His chest rose and fell, his breathing deeper and more regular. His face changed from a sickly pallor to his usual olive skin tone, and the trembling that had been racking his body ceased.
Whatever magic ingredient the little blue pill contained seemed to work. She peered at the remaining pills in the tin and sniffed them. Maybe he was a drug addict. Hallucinogens could bring on the paranoid thoughts.
His eyes flew open and he struggled to sit up.
“Whoa.” Her arms slipped around his shoulders. “You just had a very scary incident. You need to lie back and relax.”
“It passes quickly. I’m fine.” He shrugged off her arm and sat up, leaning his back against the credenza. He chugged the rest of the water.
“Are you okay? I almost called 911.”
“Don’t—” he cinched her wrist with his thumb and middle finger “—ever call the police.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She should’ve run when she had the chance.
His deep brown eyes widened and grew even darker. He dropped her wrist. “I’m sorry. I scared you.”
She scooted away and rested her back against the bed, facing him. “And I’m sorry you’re going through all this, but there’s nothing I can do to help you. You need to see a doctor, and I—I’ll go to my family and contact the CIA about what happened at the lab.”
“You are a doctor.” His eyes glittered through slits.
“Not exactly, and you know what I mean. You need to go to a doctor’s office, get checked out.”
“You mean a psychiatrist, don’t you?”
“I mean...”
“You don’t believe me. You’re afraid of me. You think I’m crazy.” He laughed, a harsh, stark sound with no humor in it.
“It’s a crazy story, Max. My lab was just shot up and two men tried to kill me—or you.”
“Both of us.”
“Okay, maybe both of us, but I don’t belong in the middle of all this.”
“You’re right.” He rose from the floor, looking as strong and capable as ever. “Try to get some sleep. I’ll take you to the airport tomorrow.”
“And you?”
“I’ll keep doing what I’ve been doing.”
