“I’m doing everything within my power to do so,” Marena replied. “Please be careful, Frank.”
“Always am.”
The moment Marena hung up, she dialed another number on her cell phone.
“This is Dr. Dash,” she said when the line connected. “Yes, I know what time it is. This is an emergency. I need a favor. Right now.”
It was almost dawn when Coulter awoke to go to the bathroom. He took his toiletry bag and a change of clothes with him. Later, after showering, he dressed in jeans and a plain gray T-shirt. He peeked into Marena’s bedroom on the way back and found her lying sideways across her bed with her cell phone headset still attached to her ear. Sitting next to her, Coulter watched her for a few moments.
The faint sunlight shining through the window cascaded over hair that slightly blocked her face from view. Gently, Coulter slid it behind her ear before tracing the swollen area on her face. Having caused the angry bruise marring her otherwise flawless cheek made him sick to his stomach. The yellowish-purple mark was a stark contrast to her bronzed skin tone.
Before thinking better of it, he leaned down and kissed her cheek. She didn’t stir.
He watched the intermittent bright blue light from her Bluetooth headset. He removed the small device from around Marena’s head and retrieved the cell phone lying next to her. When he saw which phone it was, Coulter stuffed it in his pocket. His eye caught a steno notepad partially under her on the bed. He retrieved it with a slow and steady tug, stood and grabbed a chenille throw from a nearby chair. He placed it on top of her and left with the notebook in tow.
While on his way into the kitchen, Coulter doubled over in pain. His gut felt like it was on fire. Holding on to the wall, he struggled to get a handle on his breathing to ride out the pain. In minutes, the intense feeling subsided, only to return seconds later.
“You’re going out of your way to kill me, aren’t you?” he panted. Taking a deep breath, he continued his pain-management techniques until the wave subsided. Then, cautiously, he resumed walking.
Coulter poured a glass of water and downed it. Splashing more cold water on his face, he ran his hands over his stubbled jaw and the back of his neck before dabbing his face with a paper towel. With a yank on the refrigerator handle, Coulter peered inside, taking inventory of the food. Settling on eggs, bacon, and fresh fruit, he commenced making breakfast.
When fifteen minutes had elapsed, and the pain had not returned, he allowed himself to relax. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee when Marena entered.
“Smells heavenly.”
She still wore baggy pajama pants and T-shirts to bed. Coulter made himself focus on the conversation instead of how beautiful she looked first thing in the morning.
“Smell isn’t taste,” he joked.
Pouring the steaming liquid into a mug, he went to hand it to her. She met him in the middle.
“Black, just like you like it.”
“Actually, I like cream in my coffee now. Burt had me try it one time, and it sorta stuck. My favorites are the French vanilla or hazelnut creamers.”
Coulter watched her go back to the refrigerator to retrieve a small container of creamer. Marena took a spoon out of the drawer and mixed the white liquid into her cup. He watched, fascinated, as an expression of unadulterated bliss suffused her face. It took his breath away and made him wish that he was the cause of that high-wattage smile instead of a source of heartache.
“Thank you.”
He snapped out of the daydream and gave her a boyish grin. “Hope you’re hungry. I made breakfast.”
“You didn’t have to do that. I should’ve been making you breakfast.”
Marena went to sit down. Coulter followed.
“From the looks of it, I’d say you only recently went to sleep.”
“I’ve had a few hours,” she hedged.
Coulter raised an eyebrow.
“Well, at least three,” she defended.
She saw her notepad on the table next to him. “I see you’ve had plenty of reading material to keep you occupied.”
“I hope you don’t mind my taking it. I was curious what had you up so late.”
Her eyes lit up. She leaned forward in her seat, barely able to contain her excitement. “Coulter, I reached Frank.”
He stopped chewing. “You spoke to Cutty? How is he? Where is he?”
“He wouldn’t say, but he gave me the formula to Silent Night and his notes on the antidote he’d started.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “We have almost everything we need for me to get started.”
Coulter didn’t allow himself to become overly excited. “Really?”
“Yes,” Marena said, helping herself to the food on the table. She dug into it with gusto. “Frank sent the formula to one of the electronic drop boxes we shared. I downloaded everything last night. All the ingredients I’ll need, the list of chemicals, other agents, and all the measurements. He has saved me countless hours of stumbling around in the dark. We have a chance now, Coulter. But, unfortunately, there’s one we can’t get on our own, so Frank will get it.”
Coulter digested this information. “You don’t find that strange?”
“Why would I?”
“He’s been MIA for who knows how long, hasn’t even reported back to work yet, and suddenly, he’s going to meet us with a chemical that his company might arrest him for if they found out—or worse.”
She eyed him. “How’d you know he hasn’t been to work?”
“I have resources, too, you know.”
She shrugged. “No, I don’t find it strange. He helped cause this nightmare we’re in. So why not help us fix it? Bottom line is, I can’t do it without him, Colt, and there isn’t enough time to do this piecemeal.”
“It seems too convenient.”
Marena’s smile faded. “Colt, Frank has been sticking his neck on the line to save yours, and you’re questioning his motives?”
“I’m just curious why he’s helping when, as you say, it’s risky.”
“He doesn’t want to see you die any more than I do. So, can we please just focus? We have a lot to do in a ridiculously short amount of time.”
He finally capitulated, though it still made him uneasy. He leaned back in his chair. “So what’s the next move?”
“We need a research laboratory with a containment lab at biosafety level three.”
“Oh, that’ll be easy,” he quipped.
Marena gave him a look. “We’re working on it.”
“Really? How?”
“I contacted another colleague of mine. We’ve kept in touch. He’s out of the country for the next few weeks, but said I could use the space whenever I needed it. I’m waiting to hear back to confirm.”
“He?”
“Yes, he. I made a few calls last night,” she said, ignoring the question and the stare that came along with it. “I’ll have to make a few pickups today, but the rest I can get delivered to the lab. Unfortunately, I’m missing the emylanoroc, which is what Frank will be delivering, and diprenzemine, which he’s going to see if he can track down.”
“I’m not even going to pretend I know what either of those is or does.”
“The short version is, I need them for the serum. Without those two chemicals, we don’t have an antidote.”
“You don’t have any female colleagues?”
Marena arched an eyebrow. “What can I say, Coulter, another scientist friend of mine happens to be male,” she said with exasperation. “What’s the big deal?”
He returned his attention to the plate of half-eaten food. “Nothing.”
“Good. Now, have you seen my cell phone? I need to get a number and—”
“You mean the cell phone that hostiles could have used to track our location?” he said after digging in his pocket to retrieve it. “The one that you used to make an unauthorized call? ”
“Unauthorized?” she chuckled. “Isn’t that a bit extreme?”
“Everything about our current situation is a bit extreme, Rena, and this isn’t helping.”
“Coulter, I had to use it. How else was I supposed to get in touch with Frank?”
“By using the phone we just purchased.”
“I couldn’t risk him not answering because he didn’t recognize the number. Don’t you get that you’ll die without his help?”
“I still might,” he countered. “Nothing is a guarantee. Now there could be enemies zeroing in on our location, which puts you in danger, Rena.”
“It was a calculated risk,” she countered. “Look, I know it’s not ideal, but we have to deal with this stuff as it comes and pray we get the results we need.”
“As in me surviving the next three days without dying?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan.”
Their eyes connected across the table. They both allowed themselves a moment of levity while they ate.
About to take another bite of food, Coulter stopped and set his fork down. He closed his eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“My stomach has been acting up.”
She leaned forward. “Are you nauseous? Are you experiencing any abdominal pain right now?”
Coulter bolted out of his seat and to the sink. He made it just in time before he threw up the contents of his stomach. Marena was right by his side.
“Is this the first time this has happened?”
“No. There was intense pain earlier, but it went away.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I just did.”
Marena hurled a barrage of questions at him while he rinsed his mouth out with water. Then, clutching the notebook, she found a pen in a drawer and furiously scribbled notes. It took her a minute because fear was causing her hand to shake. She knew that his condition would deteriorate as they got closer to the time limit on the toxin, but it was happening too fast for Marena. She thought she was fine and could use her training to focus and do the job she needed to do, but it was a struggle. This wasn’t anything like working on A.S.P.R. At Beecham, she had worked with military personnel, too, but this was Coulter. Their connection was personal. Intimate. It was hard to remain objective and keep her emotions at bay. The violent reactions and the rapid decline of his condition scared her to death.
Coulter watched various emotions play out across Marena’s face. She was so easy to read. It was one of the things that he loved most about her, but sometimes her transparency was a curse instead of a blessing. Like right now. Her expression relayed worry, fear, and another emotion that caused hope to flutter. Before he could think better of it, he laced his fingers through hers. He almost sighed with relief when Marena didn’t pull away.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it when you came in,” he apologized.
She nodded. “I have to know everything, Coulter. I need to know about any new problem that crops up, if you feel differently, if there’s more pain, less pain, anything at all.”
He rubbed the palm of her hand. “Roger that.”
The moment slipped away faster than a person running across the ice in smooth-bottomed shoes when she started asking him about bodily functions. Coulter’s gaze flew to the ceiling.
When he remained silent, Marena looked up exasperated. “Coulter.”
“Okay, yes, there is a discoloration in my urine that I just noticed this morning.”
She stood up and held out her hand. “Let’s go.”
Coulter got up and took it. “Where?”
“I need to take your vitals, give you something that will hopefully keep nausea at bay while helping you with the pain. Then, I need you to rest while I’m out stocking up. When I get back, I’ll need to draw a few vials of blood.”
“So, where is this man you’re meeting?”
Marena pushed him toward the bedroom. “She is back in Beaufort, near the hospital.”
Suddenly, he turned around, causing Marena to stop short. She glanced up at him in alarm.
“Whoa. What’s wrong?”
Marena, I love you. My life is never the same when we’re apart. I long to touch you, talk with you, share your thoughts, your food. I miss everything about you, and I want you back. In my arms and in my bed. Forever. Instead, Coulter said, “I don’t want you going without me. It could be dangerous.”
Internally, he called himself a coward for not leveling with her that he was struggling with everything. Since he’d been back in Marena’s life, he hadn’t had an opportunity to be frank with her about how much this illness was robbing him. How severe his body was reacting as the clock wound down. How being fearless and acting like Silent Night wasn’t affecting him was a smokescreen. In truth, he was scared about the uncertainty he was facing. The pain was much worse than he let on, and he knew he should be truthful, but seeing her upset and fearful was eating him up inside.
In his line of work, facing death was a daily occurrence, so dying didn’t scare Coulter—living without Marena did.