Relentless (Option Zero #2) - Christy Reece Page 0,10

were still a bit weak.

What exactly did Lion do? The authoritative way he’d talked, the advice he’d given her about protecting herself, had sounded very knowledgeable. She assumed he was military trained. Had he still been in the military? Was that why he’d been a prisoner? If so, had he been able to escape?

The prison they’d been held in was gone—decimated. She’d seen the aerial photos. All that remained was a barbwire fence that had surrounded the structure. Everything else had been flattened. No one could give her any answers of what had happened. She’d been told only that there were no known survivors.

She refused to believe that Lion hadn’t survived. He had to be alive—she would accept no other option.

At four o’clock, she opened the small picnic basket she’d brought for them. Taking out the plastic container holding the apple slices she’d cut up this morning, she forced herself to eat a few pieces. Even though she wasn’t hungry, she needed to keep her energy up.

He was now three hours late. She pushed that knowledge aside. So what? Where did she have to go? Lion was worth waiting for. She refused to give up on him.

The call came just a little after five. Not surprisingly her mother sounded both concerned and angry. “Kat, where are you?”

“I’m in New York. At the library.”

“Oh, Kat…” Now she just sounded sad.

“Mom, you know I had to try.”

“Sweetie, he’s dead.”

“You don’t know that. It was never confirmed.”

She tried to be relieved that at least her mother was acknowledging that Lion actually existed. She and other well-meaning people had tried to tell her that Lion had been a figment of her imagination. A hallucination brought on by fear and pain. A mystery man her mind had created to keep hope alive. She knew that wasn’t the truth. He was real and he was alive. She knew it!

Her mother gave that sad, pitying sigh that she’d adopted ever since her daughter had returned home. “Come home, darling, where we can take care of you.”

“Mom…” She tried, she really tried, to keep the irritation from her voice. “I can take care of myself.”

“Yes, as you proved so well.”

Though it hurt, she couldn’t argue with the statement. She had gone alone to Paris, filled with youthful arrogance, massive naïveté, and the complete certainty that nothing bad could happen to her. She had returned home a gravely injured, damaged, and fearful woman.

The blood loss had been horrific, but it had been the pneumonia that had almost taken her life. Every breath had been a struggle. The doctors had worked tirelessly to save her.

She was finally getting herself back together. She had been determined to get well so she could make this meeting.

An abrupt wave of desolation swept through her, and sadness dropped like a boulder onto her shoulders. Her mother was right. He wasn’t coming. Lion was dead. The most wonderful, giving man she’d ever known was no longer alive.

A gust of warm air swept over her, bringing with it the scent of roses. Her head popped up, her eyes searched. She saw no one with pink roses. Spotted no one who looked remotely like Lion. It didn’t matter. Something like optimism washed through her. She refused to accept her mother’s grim assessment. There was no visual proof he was dead. There was still hope.

“Kat.” Her mom’s voice softened. “Come home, darling.”

“I can’t, Mom, I’m sorry. I learned a hard lesson, but I got through it. I’m a grown woman and don’t need to be babied or taken care of.”

“But—”

“You and Dad need to go on that cruise you planned, before all this happened.”

“Don’t be silly. We’re not leaving until you’re completely on your feet.”

That was just more incentive for her to get a hundred percent well. She’d always been an independent person, but since her return she’d become a weak-kneed, jump-at-any-loud-noise, blubbering wimp. That was over. From now on, her family would see the Katarina they’d seen before.

Knowing she wouldn’t convince her mother without full proof that she was fully recovered, she did the only thing she could do—she lied. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got a phone consultation with Dr. Jenkins at six.”

“Good. I know she’ll help you confront your denial about that young man.”

Refusing to get back into an argument she wouldn’t win, she hurriedly said, “I love you, Mom. Bye.”

As she pocketed her cell, a new wave of desolation rushed through her like a raging river. It was four hours and seventeen minutes past