Page 148 of The Restoration Program

“I know you have a lot of questions,” he said quietly.

“I-I’m in your hands,” Nicole sputtered. “How can I fit in yourhands, Ry? What the hell is going on?”

The corner of his lips crooked up, as though her confusion was endearing to him somehow.

“It’s complicated. We can talk about everything soon. But everything’s okay, I promise. You’re safe. Take a breath. Just know that you’re safe.”

The familiar rumble of his voice made her insides swell and sigh. The man who’d made her believe in soulmates was here. Tears of fright slowed somewhat.

Everything’s okay. You’re safe.

But was she, really? In the stillness of the empty hospital suite, Nicole stared up at him, taking him in fully. He was handsome as ever; his wavy chestnut hair was combed back, and the cerulean stripes on his tie ignited a vibrance in his eyes that she gaped at in wonderment. He smelled like aftershave and expensive cologne.

Something wasn’t right, even beyond her dizzying size predicament. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but suspicion curdled into certainty as she took in signs of what was clearly a few years worn on him—at least.

“How long was I out?” she whispered.

Ryan winced and chuckled. “Do I look that bad, babe?”

“Ry… Ry, please. You look fine. I just…” She rubbed her hand over his much, much larger one. Finding the side of his index finger, she squeezed it. Her voice hitched again. “I-I’m scared, Ryan.”

“There’s nothing to be scared of,” he said gently. “I’m here. I’m gonna take care of you. I’ve got you.”

She stared up at him, a frown slowly pulling her brows together.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I just… There’s something.Something. I don’t know. Is it deja vu?”

His jaw tightened. “Give yourself a little more time to wake up. Might just be the procedure.”

“Procedure, what?” She looked helplessly around the room again. “This doesn’t make anysense! Why are you—why is everything so…” Reality set in. Everywhere she looked, her racing mind tried to convince her that Ryan and the room were massive. But that couldn’t be true.Shewas small. Her breath caught on a few frantic inhalations. She started shaking again.

“Hey.” All at once, he was cooing again. He effortlessly slipped his finger free from her grasp to wipe away a fresh tear that trickled down her cheek.

How could someone so much bigger than her manage to have such a ginger touch? She leaned into the contact and squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to actually wake up. But the rumble of his voice made it difficult to believe that any of this was a dream.

“You’re here,” he assured. “We’re together. That’s all that matters, right?”

“But…” Her words broke off into a sob. She looked at him searchingly, her mouth forming words that wouldn’t come out.

He brought her in for another embrace and rubbed her back. Once again, his touch was precise. Her muscles relaxed, her breathing slowed, all like clockwork. It only served to unnerve her worse.

“You and me, Nicki,” he said, burying a warm kiss into her hair. “Everything else can wait. I’ve got you.”

She shifted uncomfortably, and his fingers twitched tighter—a movement so subtle that she almost didn’t notice.

OBSERVATION ROOM C-3, SUBJECT NO. 8.

Lucas swaggered into the observation room, met with a mixture of groans and cheers from the group inside. Eight people were crowded into the small tech deck, raptly watching the monitors. Three of them were fromCallahan-Northe & Associates.The other five were Restoration staff, eager to partake in the gambling. Ryan Northe was something of an urban legend for many of the staffers. They drew straws to be assigned to his cases, just to see him and Nicole with their own eyes.

One of the techs gave another triumphant laugh, zooming in Camera B to put Nicole’s tearful face on full display on the monitors.

“Tears. Called it,” the tech said. “Didn’t I fucking call it?”

Lucas groaned, reaching for his wallet. Money was collected and redistributed within the group. “It was going so well this time. Theonetime I bet that she wasn’t gonna cry,” he grumbled.

He folded away his cut of the pot into the same pocket that proudly displayed hisCallahan-Northe & Associatesbadge. He drew out his phone, poised to type.