Page 46 of Consume Me

In a regular hospital, he might be able to access the profiles of the doctors on staff, see who matched his general description, height, and build. But this wasn’t county general and that sort of info wouldn’t be left around. He was looking for something else. Scanning a few files, he finally spotted one with a familiar label.

Norris, James.

The paperwork inside consisted of nothing more than a few sheets of test results, mostly pertaining to blood work. Next to his own results, two more sets were printed but not labeled.

He didn’t need to know more than that. It told him exactly why he was here, but not why they’d kept him alive. They could have just as easily done the tests with him dead. Maybe someone upstairs was feeling sentimental.

Standing and determined to blend in as soon as the staff started filtering into their positions, he kept his head down as he began to move back to the corridor. But before he did, another file caught his eye. A quick scan told him that escape wasn’t going to be as simple as getting out.

Not after discovering Clara was here, too.

Chapter 17

CLARA

Alexander swept his hands down my arms before grabbing hold of my hips. Drawing me roughly against him, I closed my eyes in anticipation. It felt like forever since he’d touched me. Now that he was here—now that his hands were on me—I couldn’t remember what had kept us apart. It hadn’t been important. This was what mattered.

He was what mattered.

I melted into him, allowing him to take control. He needed that as much as I needed to give in.

“Are you ready, poppet?” he asked, his eyes fixed on something behind me.

I shook my head. Not without knowing what it was. Not without knowing what I needed to do.

“Oh, poppet.” His lips skimmed down my neck, sending a fluttering need directly to my core. “You have to have trust.”

“I do. I trust you.” Somehow I meant it but still felt uncertain. It didn’t make sense.

“Not me,” he said, brushing his lips over mine and earning a whimper. “Yourself. You have to trust yourself.”

A leather cuff hooked over my wrist as he spoke and I looked up at him, my wide eyes reflected in his.

“But I can’t do it,” I argued even as my body relaxed into the restraints. I usually could when he asked me. What was different now?

“Yes, you can, poppet.” He fastened the other. With one swift smile, he dropped to the floor but rather than spreading my legs, he placed his cheek against my swollen belly. “For us. For all of us.”

I pulled against the restraints as the world tipped over, light blinded me overhead, and then a familiar, but unwelcome voice, filtered down to me. “Oh! You’re awake.”

I shook my head, trying to clear cobwebs, and make sense of where I was. My wrists were restrained but I felt the steady cold stream of an IV in my arm.

“The doctor is on the way,” June said as though this might reassure me. Given that I was cuffed to a gurney, it didn’t. “It’s time to have the baby.”

I knew that, but my heart plummeted into my stomach all the same. I’d known when David came. I’d known when the apple waited on the tray. I’d known what was coming and I knew what I had to do now.

It had been a gamble to guess that one bite might be enough to knock me out but not keep me out. All I had left was bluffing my way across the board and hoping no guessed that my erratic moves served a larger agenda.

“Is David here?” I asked her. “We didn’t get to finish our talk.”

We had, in fact. I’d decided that we were through speaking when I bit into the fruit. Nothing he could say would erase his sins in my eyes. I wasn’t interested in hearing him beg for forgiveness as he held a gun to my head.

“I’ll go find him. You relax.” She brushed a hand over my head and I swallowed against the urge to vomit.

I doubted most prisoners were relaxed as they walked to the gallows. That’s where I was now, waiting for death, and if I didn’t play my cards right she would have me.

I tested the cuffs once she was gone but they held fast. I wouldn’t be released again. I recalled my first c-section and how my arms had been tied to the table. It’d been oddly humiliating given the circumstances—a strange thing to center on when I’d spent the hours before surgery being pocked, prodded, and displayed.

Now I was spread like a sacrifice—a virgin awaiting the slaughter. But I wasn’t a virgin, and I wasn’t going to give in and accept this.