Page 29 of Unnatural (Men and Monsters #2)

“Here, hold on to me,” Autumn said, bending her knees and leaning toward Sam so he could grasp her shoulder as he stood.

He grunted and gave her a look he hoped told her that was a bad idea.

Autumn shook her head and stood straight, her expression aggravated. “Fine then, do it yourself.”

Sam pushed himself off the bed, wincing as he came to a slow stand, unbending his large frame inch by inch. When he’d straightened to his full height, he released a breath. Things seemed to be in order. And he hadn’t felt anything tear.

“Okay?” Autumn asked.

“Yeah. Okay.”

“Good,” she said. “Mere mortals wouldn’t have survived.”

He frowned. He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, except that he was…inhuman. Different. Which was true, but he didn’t like to hear her point it out. Didn’t like what she now knew about him, the things she obviously must have seen.

She paused, her eyes moving over his features and then to his frowning lips. Her mouth curved downward too as if responding to his. “I just meant…you’re very strong, Sam.”

He followed Autumn to the bathroom.

“I put a new toothbrush on the sink for you, and anything else you might need should be in there as well. I’ll be right outside,” she said. “Just yell if you need me.”

Sam closed the door behind him, going about his business slowly, like an old, decrepit man.

Like Adam. He felt an odd sensation in his chest and…

did he miss the old fool? Yeah, he did. He didn’t know why exactly, but he did.

And he hadn’t returned his truck or the generator he’d been sent to pick up.

Adam likely thought he’d stolen it. He probably wasn’t surprised.

He let people steal things from him more often than not.

So why did Sam feel guilty about it? Especially considering all the other things he should be worrying about?

He shuffled to the small sink, bending enough that he could splash water on his face and use the toothbrush Autumn had set out for him.

He brushed his teeth and then stood upright even more easily this time.

He’d experienced this part many times before.

He’d heal. He’d get better quickly. He couldn’t do more than hobble yet, but once he was able to get around well enough on his own, the worst would be over.

“Everything okay in there?” Her voice came from directly on the other side of the door.

That tugging at his lips. He looked up at the mirror in front of him and realized he was smiling. He reached up, running his fingers over the unfamiliar shape of his mouth.

“Hello? Sam?”

“Yes. Uh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m going to take a shower.”

“Are you sure you don’t need…” She was quiet for a moment, and he felt one brow raise as he waited for her to finish that sentence. Are you sure you don’t need me to help you?

The vision appeared in his mind, bright and vibrant, her arms around him from behind as he stood under the spray of water. Skin on skin. He shut it down. The picture made him feel too many sensations and all at once. Desire. Fear. Confusion. Shame.

“Er, I mean, are you sure you can manage it?”

“Yes. I can manage it,” he told her through the door.

“You’ll have to be careful with your bandages. Try not to get them wet, but I’ll redress your wounds when you get out.”

“Okay.” He waited for a moment until he heard the soft creak of the wooden floor under her footsteps before getting undressed.

She’d helped him pull on a pair of sweatpants the day before, and he removed them now, and then the ruined boxers, soiled with his blood, balling them up and tossing them in the small trash can near the sink.

For a moment, he stood looking at himself in the mirror, all the scars more obvious against his sickly pallor.

They jumped out at him, making him feel nauseated and ashamed.

Autumn had seen them all up close. He wondered if she’d been horrified when she undressed him, and he cast his mind from visualizing that moment.

Had she drawn away from his ugliness? Winced? Gagged?

He turned from the mirror, making the shower water run cold.

The stall was small, but he fit inside, even if he had to bend to wet his hair.

As he washed himself gingerly, he thought back to that schoolyard.

He couldn’t get the sounds out of his head.

It was always the sounds that haunted him.

The visions hurt, but the noises shook him…

the gunshots, and worse, the cries. There were so many cries that mingled in his mind. Sad cries. Terrified ones.

The hopeless ones were the worst, yet he wasn’t sure why.

Sam thought of Amon, of the look on his face as he raised his hand and shot at Sam. His eyes had held anger, but he’d seen the hopelessness there too. And the resolve.

What Sam still couldn’t understand was what the job had been and why Amon had seemingly shot at random children. Had he fouled up the job on purpose? Because what he’d done could not have been a mistake. Get out of my way.

Sam had been sent to kill too, but not like that. His targets had always been singular and precise. And never young children.

It’s not for you to understand. Follow orders, and do not question.

How often had those instructions been reiterated?

The program would send someone to kill him now. He’d questioned. He’d failed to follow orders. But most unacceptable, he’d intervened in an operation, whether it was one the program member had botched or not.

They don’t know where you are.

Even if his description was being broadcast on the news, he was only here by total happenstance.

No one else on earth would have helped him. Only her.

She’d followed him. She’d recognized him. Remembered him.

Only because she was there, at that schoolyard, was he safe.

There was something…astonishing about that. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. But Sam wasn’t good at wrapping his mind around things anyway. He hadn’t been taught to be a thinker. He’d been taught to be a doer. He’d been taught to follow orders.

He shut the water off, stepping from the shower and using the towel hung on the bar to dry himself off.

“Are you okay?”

His gaze went to the door, and his lips tugged again. She was attentive, he’d give her that. Because it’s her job.

No, it’s not. She did this willingly.

She’d put herself at great risk. He wasn’t worth it, so he’d leave as soon as he was able to travel and allow her to go back to her life. Away from the mess she unwittingly fell into because she followed you.

Out of habit, Sam had parked on a side street unlikely to have cameras and tried his best to travel down the streets in a way that would avoid most public surveillance on the way to the location of Amon’s job, Deercroft Academy.

But for obvious reasons, he hadn’t been able to be as mindful on the way back.

He had to hope, though, that if they’d been caught on camera, it was only briefly, and there was no way for the authorities to identify either of them.

Do you trust her? Do you trust her not to turn you in?

He paused, thinking about that for a moment, because it was an important consideration.

If the police captured him, he’d go to prison.

Not only because of the shooting he’d run from but because he’d done terrible things…

yes, at the direction of other people, but that wouldn’t matter to the authorities.

They’d convict him. They’d study him, which he could not allow.

That would be even worse than being killed by the program.

Because “studying him” meant hospitals. It meant doctors and labs.

Maybe surgeries against his wishes. Sam would rather die.

He’d enjoyed his first taste of freedom working on the apple farm, and he wasn’t sure that he’d found happiness…

exactly…but whatever it was, it was as close as he’d ever known.

As far as Autumn though…yes, yes, he did trust her.

Not only because she’d also been involved in helping him escape the scene of a crime but because he’d lived in her mind almost half of his life.

He’d breathed her thoughts. He’d used the words from her journal to ease his suffering.

He’d pondered the gentleness of her heart perhaps even more than she had.

She was wrapped around every beautiful thing he’d ever noticed in the world.

And for a man who’d been trained to commit ugly, gruesome acts and who’d seen so much depravity, that was magic to him.

She was magic. And if it turned out he was wrong about trusting her, then he wouldn’t need to kill himself, nor would the program. That realization would do it for him.

He wrapped the towel around his hips. It was too small, and he tugged it as best he could, tucking the small available portion of corner into the waist before exiting the bathroom.

She was standing a few feet from the door, and she rushed forward, obviously meaning to help him.

But he raised his arm to let her know he was capable of walking back to the bed.

However, the movement caused the corner of his towel to come untucked, the too-small piece of terry cloth falling to the floor.

Autumn came up short, and for several beats, they stared at each other across the very small distance before her eyes drifted downward, her gaze halted between his legs before Sam had even thought to cover himself.

He froze, watching her watch him, her eyes widening, then blinking, but still held on the one part of him that had not undergone experimentation, well, not that he could remember anyway. It seemed to work as it should, though no woman had ever confirmed that for him.