The next morning, we woke to Daniel’s excited chatter about the chipmunk he’d spotted outside the window.
“Do you think it’s real?”
Heath sat up in bed, scrubbing a hand through his messy hair and yawning. “I think so. I can’t imagine why anyone would create a synth chipmunk.”
“I knew it!”
Daniel hopped around like he’d been electrified. “A real, live animal. Can I go outside and feed it?” he begged.
“We have to feed you first. Let me get dressed then we’ll all go outside together.”
Heath swung his legs around and stood, stretching and revealing what seemed like miles of smooth, tan skin and more muscle than any human should be allotted in one lifetime.
He was so perfect, it was hard to believe he wasn’t a synth.
I forced my eyes away from the too-tempting sight. I was supposed to have an objective conversation with that?
“Tell you what,” I said to the little boy. “I’ll go out and heat up your breakfast while you brush your teeth. You can eat really fast and then feed Mr. Chipmunk. That way we’ll have some leftovers for him, right?”
“Oh, good idea,” Daniel said.
“I’m going to grab a quick shower then—if you’re okay alone with him,” Heath said, making brief eye contact before heading for the bathroom.
Neither of us mentioned the conversation from last night—Daniel didn’t need to be burdened with weighty issues like that.
We also didn’t bring up the fact that the stay-on-your-own-side rule had gone by the wayside sometime during the night.
I’d woken to discover I’d snuggled up to Heath’s side in my sleep. Worse, I’d thrown one leg over one of his and one arm around his waist, tucking my head between his chest and shoulder.
One of his arms was wrapped around my shoulders, and the other hand rested on my knee.
Perhaps worst of all, once I’d woken up and realized it, I had wanted to stay right there, exactly like that, for as long as possible.
It felt incredibly good to be so close to him. It felt right. And then it occurred to me that perhaps it was muscle memory.
Had we snuggled like this before at some point in the past? Gotten even closer? My heart lurched at the thought.
Maybe that was the important thing he’d wanted to discuss with me before we fell asleep.
In that case, I probably should have let him talk.
We would have to discuss it later today—at some point when Daniel ran ahead of us and was out of earshot.
Daniel. Where was the rascal? I hadn’t heard his chatter in the past minute or so as I dug through my backpack for something to wear. I turned around to see what he’d gotten into. The candy was my first guess.
He wasn’t in the room. I hadn’t seen him go into the bathroom with Heath, but I crossed the room to knock on the flimsy bathroom door—the shower was still running.
“Daniel? Are you in there?”
Heath’s voice responded. “It’s just me. You don’t see him?”
“He’s not in the main room.”
The chipmunk. He must have run out of patience and slipped outside to make contact with his new furry friend.
“I’ll go outside and get him,” I said through the door.
The water turned off. “That stinker,” Heath said. “Be right out.”
I hurriedly pulled on my clothes, scolding the child, though he could not hear me. “Oh little boy, you are in trouble when your brother gets a hold of you.”
Flinging the cabin door wide, I stepped onto the porch, cupping my hands around my mouth in preparation to call Daniel’s name.
The shout died on my lips.
Daniel was there—and he wasn’t alone. He was caught in the punishing grip of a uniformed officer. Actually, the man looked more like a special ops soldier in black combat gear.
He held a stun gun to Daniel’s neck.
Two other men, similarly dressed and equipped, flanked Daniel’s captor. Motion in my peripheral vision alerted me to the presence of two additional men positioned on either side of the cabin.
The truant officers. They’d found me.
“Mireya,” Daniel cried, his voice squeaky with fear.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I told him, in spite of the fact the situation was definitely not okay. What should I do? What could I do? My going AWOL had put this innocent child in danger.
Heath. He would know what to do. I yelled his name as I turned to run back into the cabin and alert him. He came barreling through the doorway, and I ran right into him.
As he spotted our unwelcome visitors, his arms went around me protectively. Moving me behind him, he took a step forward, placing himself between me and the intruders and standing at the edge of the porch to face them.
His bravery was admirable, but what could he really do? He wasn’t armed. His torso and feet were bare. He wore only a pair of shorts, his wet hair casting water droplets onto his bare shoulders.
As large as he was, he looked vulnerable next to the troupe of men fully outfitted in tactical gear.
“What are you doing here, you idiots?” he said to them. He sounded angry but not particularly surprised. And he definitely didn’t sound afraid.
The man holding Daniel answered. “You went off the grid. Your father was worried. We were sent to retrieve you and the rogue units.”
My head spun. Heath’s father had sent these agents after us? Judging from their attire, I’d thought they were from the base, here to bring me home.
What was going on?
“He didn’t give me enough time. I’m fine. Daniel is fine,” Heath said, clearly perturbed.
“We’re following your father’s orders, Mr. Gideon.”
Gideon?
Gideon.
The frantically waving tendrils of my mind finally wrapped themselves around a terrible truth, and my belly dropped to the rough-hewn floorboards of the porch.
He was calling Heath “Mr. Gideon.”
And then I knew. I understood the important thing Heath had been trying to tell me last night. It had nothing to do with the intimacy of our past relationship.
He’d said there were things I still needed to know about myself—and about him.
Gideon was his last name.
Which made his father… Apollo Gideon.
