He didn't wake up.
I moved my hand to the back of my head and took a moment to feel the incision mark where they'd inserted the implant. Then I moved to see if I could feel the same thing on Rogan's scalp. His dark hair felt surprisingly silky slipping through my fingers.
My frown deepened. I felt not just one but two incision marks on Rogan's head. Why were there two?
I took a good look at him then. He looked so innocent while asleep. His eyelids fluttered, and I wondered what he was dreaming about. I looked closely at the scar on his face, and traced the line with the tip of my finger down to his lips.
'Are you really as bad as they're trying to convince me you are?' I mused out loud.
Why the hell didn't I want to believe it? I was being totally irrational.
He wasn't accused of stealing bubble gum from the corner store. He was accused, and convicted, of rape and murder.
I glanced around the hallway. Nobody was around. Not one person was within spitting distance, and as far as I could see, neither were the flying cameras.
I pressed my hand against his throat and felt his steady pulse, warm and alive beneath my touch. Then I slowly trailed down to his collarbone and then right over his muscled chest to his heart. Skin against skin.
Dammit. I didn't want to be this close to him. He was a very bad man who had done very bad things- unforgivable things-and it shouldn't feel this good to touch him.
But I didn't feel threatened or afraid when I was this close to him-and not just when he was unconscious. Why was that?
It was that damn flash I'd had when I'd done my flex on him on the street. First impression? He was seriously fucked-up. But really bad guys had this bad vibe that was hard to ignore, like a cold blanket of darkness that sucked the warmth right out of me. I hadn't felt much with Rogan-there hadn't been enough time-only warmth and pain and a little bit of sadness.
He hadn't felt like a bad guy.
But maybe I'd been wrong. It had been only the briefest of touches, but first impressions are lasting.
It would just take a moment. Just one moment of complete concentration to know all I wanted to know about my partner and I'd be certain one way or the other.
I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on using my flex.
'Hey,' he suddenly rasped, and I found my hand in his as he pulled it away from his chest. 'I'm out for a few minutes and you start to get frisky on me?'
I scowled at him and pulled away. 'Hardly.'
'Then what were you doing?'
'Just making sure you weren't dead. FYI… you're not.'
He gave a short, humorless laugh and glanced around wearily. 'So where the hell are we now?'
'We're in the mall.'
'The mall,' he repeated with a frown. 'Why are we in a mall?'
I reached back to feel my incision again. 'We need to get these implants out.'
Rogan grabbed my wrist. 'Don't do that.'
'Why not?'
'You can't tamper with it or it will…' He hesitated. 'It… it
I frowned. 'Why do you think that?'
'It makes sense, doesn't it?' He shakily got to his feet and held out a hand to help me up. I ignored it and got up on my own.
'You have two incisions,' I told him. 'Does that mean you have two implants?'
He raised an eyebrow. 'Do I?'
I nodded.
He reached around to the back of his head to feel. 'Maybe they made a mistake when they were digging around. Put it in the wrong spot.'
'Maybe.' My gaze traveled over to his shoulder wound. 'What Jonathan did to you back there. That antidote. How do you feel now?'
He gingerly touched his shoulder and moved it up and down. 'It worked. I feel stronger already. It doesn't even hurt much anymore.'
'Why did he do that? Save you? Seems kind of risky for him to help somebody he doesn't even know. Just another convict contestant. Are you sure you two don't know each other?'
'Positive.' His ocean-colored eyes glimmered, and then a grim smile turned up the right corner of his mouth. 'Must be my charm. I've always been able to win people over with it. Make them do whatever I want.'
'Yeah, I bet.' I glanced around again. I could see the main mall from where we were, but they'd tucked us down a hallway that was roped off for maintenance. I looked at Rogan again. He wasn't hunched over anymore, so it gave me a better judge of his height. And he was tall. If I was five-seven-and I was-then I'd have to guess he was a couple inches over six feet. Also, even with all that dirt and grime he was a very handsome man. I wondered briefly what he'd look like all cleaned up.
Like a cleaned-up rapist and murderer, probably.
Shit. I was just fooling myself if I thought there was more to this guy. Wouldn't matter if he was the best- looking man in the universe. What he'd done made him ugly.
I wish I'd been able to get a full read on him, but there wasn't enough time. All I had to go on was the flash earlier-enough to make me think that there might be another explanation for what he went to prison for.
Or was that just wishful thinking?
He seemed to flinch at my appraisal. 'You don't look like you like what you see.'
That wasn't necessarily true, actually. But it was better for both of us if he believed that.
He gave another half laugh that sounded pained. 'Absolutely not.'
'Then I guess we're in agreement.' I turned my back to him and tried to focus. The mall. I hung out here all the time, and so did a good friend of mine. 'Come on. I think I know someone who might be able to help us. Got to find him before that camera catches up to us.'
I felt his hand on my shoulder to stop me before I got too far. 'What are you talking about?'
'I know a guy, he's like a computer genius. At least, that's what he's always telling me. If I find him he might be able to help us get rid of the implants-disarm them, remove them, whatever-and we can end this bullshit once and for all.'
'You think it's that easy?'
'I think it could be.' I tried to pull away from him.
His grip on my arm increased. 'You touch these implants and unless you have the right tools they'll explode. Turn your brain to goo that'll drip out your ears while you finish dying. Is that what you want?'
I grimaced at the thought. 'You sound pretty certain. I guess I didn't get the manual when I woke up on the dos and don'ts of implant ownership. Did they give you a quick course in prison?'
He glared at me. 'People talk.'
I turned away again. 'Doesn't mean I have to listen.'
Without waiting to find out if he was or wasn't going to follow me, I made my way out of the hallway and into the mall. Finally, somewhere I knew. It felt good, like I'd been returned home. Some sense of control in this crazy situation.
Twenty-five years ago it had been one of the largest malls in the country. Nearly eight hundred stores in a complex that spanned blocks and blocks. Now there were about twenty stores still open. Three places to eat in the food court. Some people said that it had an eerie, ghost-town kind of feeling, but the way it was now was all I'd ever known it to be, so it didn't seem that strange to me. It was a place to hang out indoors; that was about it.
I glanced over my shoulder. Rogan trudged after me. Christ, just looking at him made me realize that we'd better make this quick. I figured we didn't have too much time before we got kicked out of the mall. Security wasn't all that tight, but torn, dirty, and bloodied clothes did not represent your average mall shopper, even these days,
