Page 8 of He Is Jensen: Part Two

Iknow the instant Layla decides to bolt; I see the desperation to escape rooted deep in her eyes. So much so she doesn’t seem to mind that she’s only half dressed, without a shirt or shoes. And I hate that she’s that scared of me.

She charges for the door, and I place myself in front of it a split second before a petite package of soft curves and fiery determination barrels into me. Layla gasps at the contact, new to her ICE-induced physical prowess; she can crank up her speed, but apparently doesn’t know how to apply the brakes. I wrap my arms around her, effortlessly derailing her attempt, and that only serves to piss her off. With a burst of renewed energy, she squirms and shoves at my chest. The chairs behind her begin to shake, and more and more it becomes apparent that her emotions trigger her abilities.

I give her a minute of eruption, letting her work out some of that energy and anger before I give her some space. Shackling her wrists with two hands, I have the displeasure of a firm knee to the groin. I grunt and grind my teeth.

“Now that was unnecessary,” I mumble.

Her chin lifts defiantly, and she tries to repeat her offense. “Oh no, you don’t,” I says, wrapping a leg around hers, intimately molding our hips together. There’s no hiding how hot and hard I am right now. Her eyes go wide with instant awareness, with the feel of me pressed against her belly.

Behind us the chairs clatter from side to side. “I’m assuming that noise you’re making means you’re not so happy with me right now.”

“How are you even back in my life?” Her tone is pure accusation.

“I’ve asked myself that same question. I don’t believe in coincidences.”

She looks appalled. “You think I arranged all of this?”

I arch a brow. “Did you?”

“Did you?” she counters, outrage in her tone.

“No.” I lower my voice. “No, I did not.”

Her expression clouds in obvious rejection. “You lied to me.”

“Never. I don’t lie. That’s not who I am.”

“You’re one of them.” Her tone is pure accusation.

“I’d die before I’d join the Zodius.”

“The pictures—”

“I explained.” I soften my voice. “If you want to be mad at me, be mad that I let you get captured, because I deserve that. You went through hell in Zodius City. But don’t accuse me of being with Julian, because he is everything I stand against.”

She searches my face, an earnest expression on hers. “If you aren’t one of them, then how are you here? How did you escape?”

“I escaped the same way you escaped. Everyone around me took a nap, and I took advantage.” I ease my hold on her wrists and let her hands settle on my chest, the ICE still wrapped in one of them, but she doesn’t pull away. “It killed me to let you go to that lab by yourself. When those alarms went off, and I saw all the bodies lying everywhere, I was certain you were dead. I hacked the security cameras and found you entering the ventilation system. I followed you, but I was too late. You were gone.”

She studies me long seconds before her face drops to my chest. “I’m so confused.”

My hand slides to her hair and the feel of her in my arms, pressed intimately to my body is right in ways I can’t examine right now. “That makes two of us.”

Turbulent guilty eyes lift to mine. “I was going to find you, Jensen. I wanted to find you, but I had to warn people about Julian, and Tad showed me those pictures of you. Then I heard voices, and—”

“You did the right thing.” She thought of me. She wanted to come to me. It’s enough. “I’m just glad you got out. You would never have found me anyway.” I hesitate then gently prod. “Can you tell me what happened back in the lab, Layla? Who is the Milton person you mentioned?”

Her fingers curl on my chest, and I can almost feel the simmering anger in her. “Another scientist they kidnapped,” she explains, her voice tight. “They killed him,” she adds, and in that moment everything that isn’t bolted down in the room is suddenly in the air, floating, rather than crashing against walls and floors. “I begged Julian to spare him, but he has no mercy.” She shivers with the memory.

I don’t allow myself to focus on what’s happening around us. It’s becoming obvious that her emotions drive the world around her. Why, at this point I do not know, but I focus on her. Just her. “So Julian was there when all of this happened?” I ask.

“He left me with Tad,” she confirms. “That was when Tad flung Milton’s dead body to the floor, like he was a piece of trash. After which he promised we were going to share some quality time together.”

I tense, about one word from snapping. “Did he touch you?”

She shakes her head. “No. He never got the chance.”

Relief washes over me. “What happened to stop him?”