“You.”
He arches a brow. “Me?”
“You set that up,” I snap. “You’re in on it.”
He gives a short chuckle. “In on what?”
“Don’t fucking play dumb,” I trying to shove myself upright. Pain rips through my side. “You know Grant.”
He looks almost amused. “You’re not making your case any better, Kincaid.”
“You’re working with him. You're in on it. Where is Brooke?”
“Fifty people dead,” he steps closer to the bed. “And you’re acting erratic. Not a good sign.”
My hand flies to the IV. Rage surges so fast it feels electric. I grab the line and yank. Pain explodes through my arm. The tape tears. Blood spills warm down my skin and drips onto the sheets.
The nurse rushes in behind him. “Stop,” she demands sharply, already moving toward me.
The agent doesn’t help her. He just watches.
“Go ahead,” he says. “Keep thrashing. It only reinforces what we already suspect.”
“I didn’t do this,” I grind out.
He shrugs. “That’s what they all say.”
The nurse presses gauze to my arm. “You’re going to tear your stitches,” she tries to push me back against the mattress.
I barely hear her.
The room tilts. The fluorescent lights above me flicker, buzzing louder than they should. The agent’s face blurs.
And Luke stands near the foot of my bed. He leans against the wall with his arms folded.
“What are you gonna do?” he asks, head tilting. “You can barely even walk. They just had to take a bullet out of your chest.”
My throat goes dry.
“You’re not real,” I mutter.
Luke smiles. “Face it, Seth. You’re not gonna be able to save her.”
I try to sit up again, but my body refuses to cooperate. The pain pins me down.
“She’s gonna die because of you,” he goes on. “Just like Natalie died because of you.”
My breathing goes uneven.
“And your baby’s gonna die with Brooke too.”
The words hit harder than the bullet ever did.
My fingers tremble. My vision tunnels.
The nurse’s voice sounds far away. “He’s not responding to me.”
Luke steps closer and crouches beside the bed, eye level with me. “You kill everything you touch.”
