Page 35

SKYE

T he world swam as I pried open my heavy eyelids, a dull pain radiating through my skull.

The last thing I remembered was driving home from Liam’s.

It was dark. There were headlights… It took a moment for the cloudiness to clear, and when it did, panic slammed into me like a freight train.

My arms were pulled behind me, wrists bound painfully tight.

A glance down revealed ropes cutting into my legs, holding me to a hard metal chair.

“Lily!” I rasped, my throat dry.

Her cries were high-pitched, desperate. I turned my head, my heart sinking. She was still strapped into her car seat, deposited a few feet away. Her little body trembled with sobs as she clutched her bunny tightly. Her red cheeks glistened with tears as she looked at me with wide, terrified eyes.

“It’s okay, baby,” I said, my voice hoarse. “Mommy’s here.”

“Well, isn’t that sweet?”

The voice sent a cold wave of dread down my spine.

I twisted as much as I could, and there he was—Joe, pacing in the room like a caged animal.

We were in the chemistry lab. I recognized the industrial counters, the shelves lined with neatly labeled chemicals.

It was late, and no one else was around, or they would’ve heard Lily’s cries.

That combined with the probability that he’d parked directly behind the building to enter near the lab killed any hope that someone would’ve seen him with a crying child and an unconscious woman.

“You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you, Skye?” Joe snapped, running his hands through his messy hair.

“Joe…” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to sound calm. “What are you doing? Why—why would you drive us off the road?”

“You.” He jabbed a finger in my direction. “You couldn’t just stick to your little TA duties and keep your nose out of things. No, you had to poke around. Asking questions. Taking pictures. God, you’re so predictable.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t play dumb.” He grabbed a crowbar off the counter, gesturing wildly with it. “You think I don’t know about the research? About how you were sniffing around Megan’s project? How long until you connected the dots and figured out what I’ve been doing?”

“What have you been doing?” I asked, stalling for time. My mind raced as I glanced at Lily, praying for a way out.

Joe scoffed. “Untraceable performance-enhancement drugs. You know, the drug that’s making all those benchwarmers look like superstars? That’s me, Skye. My formula. And you were this close to blowing it all up. But that’s only part of it. I had plans. So many. Foxglove—my research.”

“But the performance-enhancing research was Megan’s.” I needed more information and time.

“Part of it was. While Megan researched the negative side effects of performance enhancers, I used her research to hone an undetectable formula for college athletes. But foxglove was my true claim to fame. The performance-enhancement stuff was just a side hustle.”

My mind spun as I worked to make the connection.

The sudden improvements on the field, Jackson’s death.

It all clicked together in a sickening puzzle.

But I had no time to dwell. My eyes darted to Lily, her trembling hands clutching Bunny, and a fierce resolve took hold.

I had to get her out of here—no matter what. “The football player who died?—”

“That wasn’t supposed to happen!” Joe shouted, his voice cracking.

“I didn’t know he had any of the performance-enhancement stuff left.

When I found out he had a heart condition, I switched out the product.

The idiot took too much. He must have used both the performance enhancer and my foxglove treatment at once.

If he’d only taken the new sample I’d given him, he would’ve been fine, possibly even healed.

I didn’t mean for it to happen. But I won’t let you ruin me over it. ”

I stared at him, horrified. Human trials. The unethical reality of what Joe had done slammed into me like a punch. “So, what’s the plan, Joe? You think you can just… what? Get away with this? With taking me and my daughter hostage?”

His eyes darted to the gallon of acid on the counter, and I swallowed hard.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Joe’s voice hitched, and for a moment, he looked less like the man with a crowbar and more like the friend I thought I knew.

“This is my chance. My one shot to matter, to be someone. To change medical history with my formula containing digoxin extracted from foxglove. It would cure atrial fibrillation, something Jackson had. And you—you just had to ruin it by getting involved and telling the police.”

“Joe, listen to me. Lily’s a little girl. Let her go. She doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Joe hesitated, his grip tightening on the crowbar. His eyes flickered with something— guilt? —but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

He shook his head. “Too late for that.”