Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 204(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 136(@300wpm)
“Don’t say that—”
“Logan.” Just a whisper is enough to make him fall silent. “This has always been my life. Every time I walked into the lab, I knew I was fighting for my right to live. For my next breath. Battleman’s has been a part of me since I was a baby. If it wasn’t for the disease, I wouldn’t have even been born.”
“What?” he asks, but he’s smart enough to piece it together from what I’m saying. Stunned horror spreads across his face.
“It was my father’s plan all along,” I rasp. “He knew if they had a child, there was a good chance that child would carry the disease. My mother didn’t want to have kids because of it.”
Logan shifts in his seat and the chair groans like it’s dying. Hospital furniture is way too rickety for a man of Logan’s size—he could look at it the wrong way and it’d fall apart.
I want to make a joke to lighten the mood, but Logan’s calling my name. “Daphne. Are you saying—”
“My father wanted a second chance to fight the disease. To harvest stem cells, run tests. To try new treatments.” I push my cheeks up into a hollow smile. “He didn’t want a child. He wanted a tissue donor.”
Logan’s broad chest rises and falls rapidly, his lungs like bellows. His left hand holds mine gently while his right fist presses against his mouth. “That fucking fuck,” he growls, probably hoping his hand muffles the insult.
Now my smile is real. “That’s my dad you’re talking about,” I say lightly. “Don't speak ill of the dead.”
He lowers his fist. “If he wasn’t dead, I’d kill him.”
“It’s done. It’s past.”
“Did he tell you? That you were only born as a guinea pig he could experiment on to save your mother?”
“Not in so many words. That would’ve made it easier.”
Instead, my father’s actions told me the truth. Every time he led me to his lab. Every time he threaded a needle in my vein to draw blood. Every time he injected me with a treatment that had a chance to heal me and my mother—or make me worse.
I learned my father loved me less than the results on a lab print out. Results he excitedly shared with my mother.
“Don’t feel sorry for me, Logan. I had a better life than most. And my mother loved me. She was furious with my father for what he was doing. But most years, she was just too weak to stop it. And he hid the worst from her.”
“I’m so sorry.” Logan kneels next to the bed, gripping both my hands in his huge ones. His anger is still there, but he’s pushed it to the back burner. “You have to know...you’re not just a lab rat. You’re more than what your father tried to make you. You’re smart and perfect and beyond beautiful. You…” his voice chokes. “You are loved. So loved.”
“I know I am.” I stroke the raven-black hair from his forehead, wanting so badly to kiss him. “As soon as I was old enough to realize what my father had done, I had you.”
“What?”
“You were his student, so on fire. You said you were going to cure Battleman’s.” My voice softens. “And you were always kind to me. I was your teacher’s skinny daughter. But you were still so nice.”
“Daphne...I didn’t know. I never even guessed you were sick.”
“Oh I wasn’t. Not at that point. The disease was in remission. Not because of the treatments—they all failed—but because my body was young and strong enough to fight.” My father wanted to keep experimenting on me, see if he could poke the disease awake, but my mother wouldn’t let him.
“You were my light in the darkness, Logan. My reason to live. Even before you knew my name.”
But the nightmare feeling of thorns wrapping around my flesh and pulling me under the dirt flashes vividly through my head. Because I feel that darkness closing in around me again and it’s so consuming I’m not sure even the most powerful love on earth could keep it at bay.
Two
Logan
You were my light in the darkness. My reason to live. How can she say that to me, of all people?
I hold Daphne’s hand long after she falls asleep. I have to be careful not to squeeze her fragile fingers too hard. When I finally lay her hand down, her skin looks so translucent, the blue veins are stark against the white sheets.
I’ve knelt for so long my bones protest as I rise. I grit my teeth. I’ve got to get out of this room, get some air. I hate to leave Daphne, but my stomach is still roiling from what she told me.
It was my father’s plan all along. He knew…
What sort of sick fuck experiments on their own child? If he wasn’t dead I would destroy him. Not just his company. They’d never find the bits of him I’d flay from his flesh. I’d lock Daphne in the castle for as long as it took for her to forgive me. After what he did, kidnapping her would be a mercy.