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New Mexico

Drackwood Research facility

Jeanie smothered a cry of distress and fought back tears. It was horrific to watch the man she obsessed over being tortured. It would only get both of them killed if she followed her gut instinct to rush outside toe to his aid.

“I knew you liked that one too much,” a chillingly familiar voice snickered from the doorway of the lab office.

Jeanie felt all the blood drain from her face as she turned, horrified that he’d managed to ease open her door without making a sound. Dean Polanitis headed the entire facility. At forty-five he was young for the job but what he lacked in age, he made up for in viciousness. He wasn’t tall at five foot eight but he was still extremely intimidating from years of military training and lifting weights. His body was muscled, dense and physically fit. His normally dull green eyes were unusually intense and his thin lips were twisted into a rare smile that left Jeanie feeling icy cold inside.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied.

He pointed to a spot on the large shelves that took up one wall. “I installed a hidden camera in this office to monitor your every movement for the past week after I noticed your interest in that test subject. I’ve gotten reports that you’ve attempted to shield him from being roughed up by the guards. That was the tipoff. Then, after reviewing the tapes from his cell, I realized that he looks at you the same way.” He closed the door behind him. “Did you really think it wouldn’t draw suspicion from me? I don’t miss anything that goes on inside my house. I know you care about him. You stop working every time he is out there and I know body language.” His gaze darted down the length of her body before returning...
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