Prototype (29 page)

“Fifteen minutes.”

That is all?

“How do you feel?”

“Perfect,” I say, and look at Noah. My head swims with a gentle hum that I hope wears off soon, but . . . “Absolutely perfect.”

A
rthur Travista, the father of cloning, was charged today with twenty-three counts of murder. The victims, young girls from facilities owned by the late Declan Burke, were forced to partake in the cloning program.

“While their cloning was successful, Quinn v. Vincent protects all girls under the age of eighteen from experimentation of any kind.

“As for the cloning program itself, the government has put a freeze on the project, and not because Dr. Travista is out of the business. A spokesperson from the White House told EBS that they may have moved too quickly on this and, with proper planning, will reintroduce the possibility in the near future.”

 • • • 

“. . . and in other news . . .

“A surprising development today out of Burke Enterprises. Recently named CEO Evan Thomas sells the remaining WTCs to rival companies. He had this to say earlier today.”

The image switches to prerecorded film outside Burke Enterprises. Evan Thomas stands with one hand resting on a podium, the other tucked in a pocket of his gray suit. His white hair flutters in the wind.

“We need to start looking toward the future,”
he tells the ocean of reporters.
“Declan Burke had the right idea, but I believe he was misguided.

“Closing the WTCs at this juncture isn’t the right call—we still need to maintain some amount of control over our population in order to grow. But with the sale, Burke Enterprises now has the money to put to other uses. We are still funding the mass cure for existing clones, and I’m working closely with lawmakers to make sure these women get the recognition their hosts had prior to their change.

“We’re also searching for a safe alternative to cloning. It’s out there, and I intend to find it.”

 • • • 

Noah adjusts Adrienne’s weight. “You sure you want to do this?”

I peer through the one-way glass into his office, considering what I am doing. My heart beats hard and fast. “Want? No. But I need to.”

Over the past few weeks, as we watched all the pieces fall into place the way we hoped, something felt unanswered. That is, until we had a short visit from Noah’s mother, Bridgett Schwab.

Bridgett was quick to accept me and was beyond happy to see her son and me back together. While I enjoyed her doting attention, it only widened the chasm between me and my own mother. My father. Even my brother.

I need some sort of closure, one way or the other, before we leave for Mexico.

Noah wraps me in his free arm and kisses the crown of my head. “It’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“You are taking a huge risk to make this happen.”

“Tucker Securities is going to bed with Burke Enterprises. The deal is done. Evan won’t want to wreck the good press he’s getting from that. Besides. I have a good feeling about this. Trust me.”

It has been a while since he has used the T-word on me, but it still holds the same power. I will trust him to my dying breath.

I nod and take Adrienne. She wraps her little arms around my neck and we watch Noah enter his office. When the glass closes behind him, Adrienne presses a flat palm against it and taps it a few times.

She points inside. “Dad-dy.”

“Mm-hm, there is your handsome daddy,” I say, and kiss her cheek.

Noah sits behind his desk, unbuttoning his suit jacket. A moment later, Leigh enters, dressed in a simple white blouse and gray pencil skirt. She agreed to play secretary for the next hour on the off chance we need backup.

“Mr. Tucker, your two o’clock is here,” she says. She then ushers my parents in without waiting for the okay.

Charissa’s left hand rests inside Evan’s right elbow. They are a handsome couple, dressed in tailored suits for this requested meeting. Mouth dry, I busy myself with straightening out Adrienne’s dress and taming her hair. Every wiggle she makes after that undoes all the work.

Noah stands and buttons his suit jacket. My stomach warms as the action defines his masculine form. “Mr. and Mrs. Thomas. Thank you for coming.”

Evan shows Charissa into one of the chairs facing Noah’s desk, then takes the second. Noah strolls around and perches on the desk between them.

“You said this was important,” Evan says. His expression holds no nonsense, no show of emotion, but this is true of every occasion. He is one to study for the ultimate poker face.

“And of a personal nature,” Noah says. “I understand you’ve been working to have Emma’s rights restored.”

“Olivia,” Charissa corrects.

“Emma,” Noah fires back. “I mean you no disrespect, Mrs. Thomas. Believe me.”

“What is this about?” Evan asks, eyes narrowed.

“It’s about Emma.” Noah cuts a look at Charissa that dares her to argue, then continues. “If you were to find her, would you still continue to work toward restoring her individual rights? Or would you hold true to the current custody papers that deem her your property?”

Charissa leans forward, hands gripping the edge of her chair arms. “She’s our daughter. We only want her to be happy. That’s all we ever wanted.”

Evan places a hand on her arm to stop her. “The custody was the only means we had of getting her away from Declan Burke. As you know, it was all a moot point in the end. He’s dead, and she’s hiding out with the resistance.”

Noah glances toward the glass that from his side is nothing more than a wall showing his computer’s screen saver. “Before I get to the point, I’d like to remind you that my company has now given yours financial backing. In the eyes of the media, we can do no wrong. Would you agree?”

Evan’s chin inclines but does not lower to complete the nod. “I would.”

“Until a few weeks ago, I led the resistance hub that destroyed the cloning facility and the Alexandria WTC.”

Evan rockets to his feet, and Charissa gasps behind her palm.

“Emma is with me. And she’s safe.”

Charissa sits forward on the edge of her chair. “Where is she?”

Noah raises an eyebrow at her, then looks at Evan. “Give me your word that everything said here today stays in this office.”

Evan snaps his suit jacket down. “You’ve left me with little choice, haven’t you?”

“You’re right. That’s because I would lay down my life to protect my wife.”

Evan sits slowly in his chair, and Charissa cries into her hands. Happy or sad, unknown. I do not know if Noah has anything left to say, but I take this as my cue to enter.

The glass parts in front of me and I walk through with Adrienne. I settle my gaze on Noah for strength, and straightening from his desk, he gives it to me in a single nod.

My parents stand with wide eyes, and after only a few moments, their attention drifts to Adrienne.

Noah comes forward to take her from me. “This is our daughter, Adrienne.”

My mother glances between the three of us, eyebrows furrowed. “But she’s too old.”

“Noah and I were married almost six years ago. My host carried Adrienne to term and died shortly after from complications.”

A small cry escapes Charissa’s lips. Tears spill down her cheeks.

Evan takes her hand, then says to me, “Are you well?”

Noah laces his fingers through mine and smiles down at me. “She’s perfect.” He kisses my knuckles, erupting a swarm of butterflies in my belly.

“I have had the DMT injection,” I clarify for Evan. This is what he really wanted to know. “Anyway, I wanted to—”

I stop, my throat closing around the words. Why am I feeling so emotional all of a sudden? They are complete strangers. But I cannot look at them anymore, because the longer I do, the more of myself I see in them.

Noah hugs me to him. “
We
wanted to thank you for the steps you’ve already taken. And to let you know that we’re leaving Richmond. The States, actually. For good.”

“What? Why?” Charissa asks. “We won’t turn you in.” She looks at Evan for validation of her statement. He neither acknowledges nor denies. He simply stares at us, hiding his thoughts under an impassive expression.

“I only wanted to tell you that I appreciate what you are doing and that I forgive you.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “If your intention was to make sure I ended up happy, then you can sleep well at night.” I hug Noah closer. “Because I am beyond that.”

A dimple forms in Evan’s chin and he lowers his head a moment later.

Charissa rubs his arm, then steps past him. “Can I—” She stops to clear her tear-thickened throat. More tears flood and breach her eyelids. “Can I hug you?”

I cannot breathe, and before I realize what I have done, I am in her arms. She holds me tight, the way only a mother can. And I know deep down, despite the drunken, awful thing she said at the ball, she loves me.

My eyes are closed, so I do not realize Evan is there until he strokes the back of my head. I look up and he presses a lingering kiss to my forehead. Then, looking behind me, he says, “Take care of her.”

“I will,” Noah says.

I back away from my parents, swallowing an aching sob. My mother holds on until the last possible second, her hands hovering in the air. My father grips her shoulders and stares at the painting behind Noah’s desk.

“You should take it,” Noah says. “My replacement won’t care for it, and I know the artist.” He smiles warmly down at me. “She’ll just have to paint me another.”

“Thank you,” Evan says.

Noah and I back toward the opening in the wall.

“Let us know how you’re doing,” my mother says.

I nod but can do no more than that. I do not trust my voice.

Noah sees me through the opening, then turns back to say, “You’ll want to keep this from Daxton.”

Evan nods. “Don’t worry. Even if we knew where he was . . . I know exactly the type of man my son is, Mr. Tucker.”

The wall closes and I watch my father fold my sobbing mother in his arms. A moment later, tears slip from his eyes, and his back shakes with a quiet cry.

Noah slips his hand in mine. “Let’s go home.”

 • • • 

Noah takes the duffel bag and box from my arms so I can say good-bye to Leigh and Foster. He takes them into his office, calling after Adrienne to follow him. She run-hobbles with a gleeful giggle.

Leigh hugs me first. “We’ll see you in a couple weeks for the wedding. I can’t wait. It’ll be my first real vacation since . . . ever.”

Foster steps over and holds me out by the shoulders, eyeing me down the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want a repeat of your last disappearance.”

I chuckle. “I will call you. I promise.”

He lifts me in a tight hug and kisses my cheek. “Take care of yourself, Wade.” He sets me down. “I can’t even call you that anymore, can I?”

“For a couple more weeks,” I say, then shrug. “But who knows? Something tells me the name will pop up again sooner than you think.”

My friends look confused, and Leigh says, “I don’t get it.”

And she is not supposed to, so I go for a change of subject. “Noah tells me you got reassigned to Chicago?”

She folds her arms and averts her eyes. Kicks the concrete with the toe of her boot. “No, not exactly. Some special assignment for Colonel Updike. Looks like I’m going undercover for a while.”

Foster elbows her. “At least you’re getting out of here. I’d take an assignment like that in a hot second if it meant breathing air that hasn’t been recycled a million times.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, it’ll be okay. I need to get out of here anyway. Since Miles . . .” She pauses and works to control her expression. “I just can’t be here anymore.”

I know what she means. Miles is everywhere and nowhere.

“When do you leave?” I ask.

“After the wedding.” A grin peeks out from under her deep scowl. “Which calls for a really good drunk girls’ night beforehand.”

“Miss Emma!”

We turn as Dr. Malcolm comes running, hands strapped to his chest to keep his lab coat from flying out. He steps on a loose shoelace and stumbles, nearly falling only three steps away. Beside me, he bends over and braces himself, chest heaving for breath. He holds a finger up between us, asking me to wait. Why he always thinks I will walk away from him is beyond me.

“I thought. I missed you,” he wheezes.

Noah walks up behind me, Adrienne in his arms playing with a small doll with long blond hair. “We almost ready?”

Dr. Malcolm straightens, sucks in a deep breath, and swallows hard. “I forgot to give you . . .” He rummages in his pockets, starts pulling things out, then places them in my hands. Large bottles rattle with pills. “Ginger to help with the nausea,” he says, and my heart leaps instantly into my throat. “And your vitamins. Can’t have you and the wee boy unhealthy.”

Noah sighs and rubs a hand across his mouth. “Phillip.”

Dr. Malcolm glances up, confused, then seems to realize how Leigh and Foster are gaping at Noah and me. “Oops,” he squeaks.

“I guess the secret is out,” I say.

Leigh yanks me into a swinging embrace. “It goes no further than here. Congratulations.”

Foster slaps Noah on the shoulder. “Nice.”

Noah beams at me, and I cannot help but beam back. The pregnancy was an accident, but a happy one. And only the first of many, I hope.

Reid appears around the corner, eyes glued to a computer tablet. He does a double take when he sees us standing outside the office. “You guys aren’t gone yet?”

Noah takes my hand. “You can wait sixty more seconds to claim my office, Major.”

“Lieutenant Colonel, Citizen Tucker.”

Noah and I embrace everyone one last time, and it is a tearless good-bye considering we will see them again soon. Inside the teleporter, we step around the piles of duffel bags and very few boxes of belongings we could not part with. “Emma’s” box among them.

“Ready?” he asks, bouncing Adrienne in his arm.

I take a deep breath. “Ready.”

He kisses me on the lips, the nose, then the space between my brows. His amber eyes are aflame when he pulls back to look at me.

“No words,” I say.

“Not a single one,” he says in return.

He keys in the port number to a public teleporter in Arizona where a car waits to take us across the border into Mexico. We lift our hands to wave a final good-bye to our friends before we freeze and the room melts away for the final time.