something, but stopped herself. She lowered her gaze and went through the connecting door to her room.
He set Ben on his knee and ran his thumb gently across his flushed cheeks, then kissed his dusty forehead, his chest squeezing with fear and relief and love.
Dear God, how would he live if he lost his baby?
“Dad-dy,” Ben sniffed.
He hugged his little boy. “I know, sport. I know. Tell Daddy all about the copter.”
N ATASHA STOOD UNDER the shower, wincing as hot water stung the fresh scrapes and scratches.
The roar of the helicopter still rang in her ears, as did Ben’s terrified sobs. His little body had seemed so small and fragile under hers.
The incident had spooked her. At best the helicopter was a news bird, trying to capitalize on the anniversary of Stryker’s wife’s death and the rumors about his son. At worst it was one of the fringe groups NSA was concerned about. Groups of radical fanatics interested in stealing and profiting from the neural interface technology.
Dylan was convinced that Ben was safe here. He would never agree to go to a secure facility, or send his son away. After hearing his horror story about the NSA’s underground “safe house,” Natasha couldn’t blame him.
But part of her was afraid that Mintz was right. As much as it horrified her to think about it, her rational mind knew that Ben and Dylan would be safer behind fortified, guarded walls. This compound, as protected as it was, was still vulnerable.
She knew Dylan believed he could protect his son. Now that she knew him, she believed it, too. Seeing his fierce determination, his intense devotion to Ben, she was almost convinced that he could single-handedly protect him from the world. It was obvious that Ben would be devastated if he were taken away from his father.
Whatever Dylan wanted, she’d make it happen. She just needed to be more careful, more aware, more vigilant.
She raised her head to the shower spray, wishing the water could wash away her fear and guilt.
She knew she wasn’t without blame. She should have stayed close enough to Ben to prevent him from getting near the hedge. Even the warm glow of appreciation she’d seen in Dylan’s eyes hadn’t made her feel better.
Because she knew the truth. There had been a moment out there—a brief moment when she had thought about taking Ben’s hand and leading him through the hedge into the unfettered light of the sun.
To her horror, she realized she could just as easily have exposed Ben to danger as shielded him.
Eager to wash away the surge of regret, she turned the hot water up higher and scrubbed at her wounds, grimacing as the soap stung them.
D YLAN DRIFTED AWAKE with a surprising sense of safety and calm. He opened his eyes and saw his son’s beautiful face. Ben was asleep, his little mouth moving with soft breaths. There were traces of tears on his cheeks.
Dylan’s heart swelled until his chest could hardly hold it. He loved Ben so much his whole body ached with it.
On the day he’d been told his infant son would never walk, he’d dedicated his life to proving the doctors wrong.
He’d worked for NSA since before Ben was born. NSA wanted bionic capabilities. Dylan had agreed to expand his research and develop the technology. It had turned out to be a fatal decision. It had cost him his wife and nearly his son.
So he’d demanded impossible concessions, half hoping they’d leave him alone. But the government had met every demand. They’d even agreed to help him hide Ben’s existence from the world. They wanted their supersoldier that badly.
All Dylan wanted was to give his son the ability to walk. The NSA’s offer provided unlimited funding, so he’d agreed. He’d built a fortress to shield Ben, and gone to work on the neural interface.
But now, his worst fear was realized. He and all he held dear were under attack again. A hacker had tried to penetrate his computer files, and within two days there were two efforts to
He set Ben on his knee and ran his thumb gently across his flushed cheeks, then kissed his dusty forehead, his chest squeezing with fear and relief and love.
Dear God, how would he live if he lost his baby?
“Dad-dy,” Ben sniffed.
He hugged his little boy. “I know, sport. I know. Tell Daddy all about the copter.”
N ATASHA STOOD UNDER the shower, wincing as hot water stung the fresh scrapes and scratches.
The roar of the helicopter still rang in her ears, as did Ben’s terrified sobs. His little body had seemed so small and fragile under hers.
The incident had spooked her. At best the helicopter was a news bird, trying to capitalize on the anniversary of Stryker’s wife’s death and the rumors about his son. At worst it was one of the fringe groups NSA was concerned about. Groups of radical fanatics interested in stealing and profiting from the neural interface technology.
Dylan was convinced that Ben was safe here. He would never agree to go to a secure facility, or send his son away. After hearing his horror story about the NSA’s underground “safe house,” Natasha couldn’t blame him.
But part of her was afraid that Mintz was right. As much as it horrified her to think about it, her rational mind knew that Ben and Dylan would be safer behind fortified, guarded walls. This compound, as protected as it was, was still vulnerable.
She knew Dylan believed he could protect his son. Now that she knew him, she believed it, too. Seeing his fierce determination, his intense devotion to Ben, she was almost convinced that he could single-handedly protect him from the world. It was obvious that Ben would be devastated if he were taken away from his father.
Whatever Dylan wanted, she’d make it happen. She just needed to be more careful, more aware, more vigilant.
She raised her head to the shower spray, wishing the water could wash away her fear and guilt.
She knew she wasn’t without blame. She should have stayed close enough to Ben to prevent him from getting near the hedge. Even the warm glow of appreciation she’d seen in Dylan’s eyes hadn’t made her feel better.
Because she knew the truth. There had been a moment out there—a brief moment when she had thought about taking Ben’s hand and leading him through the hedge into the unfettered light of the sun.
To her horror, she realized she could just as easily have exposed Ben to danger as shielded him.
Eager to wash away the surge of regret, she turned the hot water up higher and scrubbed at her wounds, grimacing as the soap stung them.
D YLAN DRIFTED AWAKE with a surprising sense of safety and calm. He opened his eyes and saw his son’s beautiful face. Ben was asleep, his little mouth moving with soft breaths. There were traces of tears on his cheeks.
Dylan’s heart swelled until his chest could hardly hold it. He loved Ben so much his whole body ached with it.
On the day he’d been told his infant son would never walk, he’d dedicated his life to proving the doctors wrong.
He’d worked for NSA since before Ben was born. NSA wanted bionic capabilities. Dylan had agreed to expand his research and develop the technology. It had turned out to be a fatal decision. It had cost him his wife and nearly his son.
So he’d demanded impossible concessions, half hoping they’d leave him alone. But the government had met every demand. They’d even agreed to help him hide Ben’s existence from the world. They wanted their supersoldier that badly.
All Dylan wanted was to give his son the ability to walk. The NSA’s offer provided unlimited funding, so he’d agreed. He’d built a fortress to shield Ben, and gone to work on the neural interface.
But now, his worst fear was realized. He and all he held dear were under attack again. A hacker had tried to penetrate his computer files, and within two days there were two efforts to
Similar Books
