Galilee Rising (32 page)

"Just keep telling yourself that, Jimmy, maybe it'll become true. You're a sociopath. You're incapable of empathy, and it's kind of a big requirement for love. Real love, true blue love, requires sacrifice. You would do anything, give anything for the other person, including your life if needs be.
That
is love, James."

The villain glares at me for a few seconds. I don't know why I've wasted my breath. Talking about love to a sociopath is like trying to describe the color twelve. "I have no desire to continue this avenue of conversation."

"So, what do you want to talk about? The weather you never get to experience?"

"Any luck finding our friend the Emperor?" Ryder asks.

"Not yet." I lower my arms. "Let me ask you something. Say Justice had moved somewhere like New Urbana or India, would you have followed him? Set up your reign of terror there?"

"Most likely. Is that your plan? Make Cain someone else's nightmare? How mercenary of you."

"Desperate times."

He cocks an eyebrow, I think in approval. "Have the Triumvirate agreed with your logic? I suppose it is all just geography to them as well."

"Two down, one to go, but he seems dug in. I've turned the majority of the city against him, come close to ruining his personal life, but he just won't leave. He's starting to really piss me off." My eyes narrow. "What would you do?"

"I assume killing him is off the table?" My eyes narrow to pinpoints. "Right. We all have our limits, I suppose." He considers the dilemma for a few seconds. "What it boils down to is blackmail, correct? Well, he does have one hell of a secret to exploit. Use it."

"Expose him?"

Ryder shrugs. "Remember what happened to Johnny Law when his secret identity was revealed? The press hounded him. He lost his job, his family, and then Helter Skelter resurfaced for payback and paralyzed him. Probably would have killed his family too if they hadn't been smart and run for the hills early on. But you know all of this. You just want what? My take on this drastic move?"

"Other people could get hurt if I do it."

"Of course they will. No man is an island. Of course I am preaching to the enlightened on that front. And you will be essentially destroying a life, possibly even signing his death warrant. Justin being a perfect example. But since we're being mercenary, what are one or two lives against all the innocent Gallileans you can save if they flee? You just have to ask yourself if you can carry the hero's damnation on your conscience forever. Would you like my approval or condemnation?"

I sit stony still staring at him for a few seconds. "I have to do it, don't I?"

"Doesn't mean you have to enjoy it, Joanna." He grins. "But it does make it far easier. It can actually be quite thrilling ripping someone to shreds, especially when they've wronged you. That power. Knowing you're hurting them more than they've hurt you. It can be quite cathartic."

"This isn't personal. I'm not getting any satisfaction from it."

"Keep telling yourself that, Joanna," he says with a grin.

"I'm not," I insist.

"Last time we spoke you were desperately trying to arrive at ways to aid your new friends, now you're talking about obliterating them. No one has that colossal an about face without personal feelings entering the equation. I mean, even when you discovered Justin's deception the thought of outing him never crossed your mind. So either a hero really wronged you, or you've come over to the dark side. Knowing what I do about you, I very very much doubt the latter. We recognize our own kind."

I scowl. "I just want him gone. For the greater good."

"Then you know what you have to do." He pauses. "Poor Joanna. Superheroes just keep breaking your heart, don't they? Will you never learn?"

"Fuck off, Ryder." I end the call. "Asshole." Now it's said aloud it's really a tangible possibility, one I've barely given a second thought. Now…

I stare at the black screen with a grimace. Shit. I can't do it. I can't out him. It'll destroy him. No question. His medical career, his entire fucking life will vanish. The press will hound him. Any villain he every fought will come after him. People will loathe him, spit on him for his brother's sins. Hell, the Feds can even arrest and sue him for billions in property damage. A few store owners did with Justin, going after Pendergast Industries. Our lawyers are still sorting it out. I can't do it. Even evil Joanna isn't that cruel.

Well, I'm not doing it today, that's for damn sure. I rise from the chair and go upstairs to change. I'm late to honor the saint who brought Jem into my life after I just chatted with her murderer. Life is so fucking ridiculous sometimes. It makes you want to cry.

*

At least I did this right. I can leave this planet with absolute certainty I did one pure, good thing for this miserable world. The Dr. Rebecca Thornton Pediatric Recovery Wing is as perfect as its namesake. All the bedrooms, the kitchen, the living room, even the nurse's station turned out better than I envisioned. There's even a stocked fridge. It's homier than my own home.

As with the opening of all new wings, there must be a ribbon cutting ceremony attended by various contributors, the hospital board and chronicled by the press where we congratulate ourselves on being so selfless and charitable. Danforth Mills stands beside me in the kitchen with the rest of the board and selected families already milling around the living room. In the next room, on the other side of the red ribbon, are a handful of reporters and doctors and nurses who have come to see the show. Shannon, who really deserves the credit for this project, stands off in the corner working her Blackberry as always. Thank God Jem isn't here. Just get through the speech, and get the fuck out of here, Jo.

"Good turnout," Danforth says.

"I suppose." No rest for the wicked. I raise my voice so the whole room can hear, saying "Did you look over the reports I sent you?"

"Which one? The one about the aneurysms where Dr. Ambrose was one of ten doctors on the project? Or the one from the society pages about his inappropriate behavior with staff, which as far as I know has no substantiation? I checked, there hasn't been a single complaint against him in his entire work history."

"People are probably too afraid to make an official complaint against your newest golden boy. Wouldn't be the first time."

Danforth rolls his brown eyes. "Where is this coming from, Joanna? A few weeks ago you were gung ho about adding him to staff, now you can't wait to pillory the man."

"Everyone makes mistakes. But when we do, they must be corrected. Dr. Ambrose is definitely one of those mistakes. He needs to go before the entire hospital is dragged through the mud behind him. You just need to trust me on this, alright?"

"Absolutely not. Short of the man embezzling from the hospital or murdering someone, he stays. His drug will earn billions." He leans in and hisses in a low voice, "You do realize all this muckraking you've been doing is only making yourself look bad and tarnishing the reputation of the hospital."

"I'm not a moron, Dan," I say through gritted teeth. "I know that. You think I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't necessary? Him being here puts us all in danger." I glance around the room at the staring others, meeting a few eyes. "He needs to go."

"Then give us something better than gossip and an old report," Danforth says.

"I--" The words won't come out, and my mouth snaps shut. I gaze around the room again at the concerned yet titillated board members. Not a one is on my side. They all think I'm crazy. Let them as long as this story makes the rounds around town tonight. "I will. But not today. Today's about this wing. But when I do, you're all going to wish you'd fired his ass sooner." I snatch up the big scissors from the counter. "Let's get this over with." I step toward the door, stop to plaster a smile on my face and lead the procession out.

The audience perks up when we walk out, but my smile falters when I spot my glowering speckled new enemy by the entrance. He seems none too pleased to see me. I meet his eyes and match his glare for a moment before flipping my frown upside down for the crowd. I stop in front of the ribbon and keep my gaze focused on the reporters. When everyone's in position behind me, I start. "Thank you all for coming today to the opening of the Dr. Rebecca Thornton Pediatric Recovery Wing. I'll keep this short as I'm sure the children and their families are itching to settle into to their state-of-the-art home away from home.

"Dr. Rebecca Thornton, for whom this wing is dedicated to, graced this hospital for far too short a time before her life was cut unnecessarily short by violence. Most of you didn't know her, didn't…know her heart." I glance at Jem whose eyes are glued to the floor. "It was the fullest of anyone's I have ever met. Full of her friends, her family, her patients. She and Justin Pendergast had that in common. And this wing is the physical manifestation of that fact. They wanted to heal the world one person at a time, and though they are not here in body, I am positive they are in spirit. And with every child whose both body and soul are renewed within these walls, may they and what they stood for live on. Strength. Compassion." I stop speaking and Jem stares up. My hard eyes bore into his. "And above all, doing the right thing even when it hurts." I look back at the cameras and hold up the scissors. "To Dr. Rebecca Thornton, Justin Pendergast, Daisy Thornton, Marnie Beesley, and anyone else whose life has been touched by darkness. May this wing tip the scales in favor of the light." I snip the ribbon. Everyone claps. I'm getting better at this speech thing.

I pose for photos with board members and patients, but my mind is elsewhere. I watch as Jem examines the painting he knocked down the second time we met. He was so bumbling and nervous, I almost OD'd on cuteness. The memory brings a small smile to my face. Feels like we've had a lifetime since then. He must feel me staring because he peers my way. I wipe the smile off my face and return my attention to the reporter.

Just as Danforth and I finish with this sound bite, Jem makes his move. "Excuse me, Mr. Mills," he says to Danforth, "may I please borrow Miss Fallon?"

"
Ms
. Fallon," I correct.

"
Ms
. Fallon," he says, matching my nasty tone. "Excuse us." He gestures toward the back. I follow him toward the nurse's station where there are fewer people but still some. This upcoming performance piece would be pointless without an audience. "You have to stop this," he begins.

"Stop what? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"This war you've decided to wage against me. Spreading rumors about my love life? Petitioning the board to fire me? Bringing the FDA in? They could force me to abandon my drug trial. My work could potentially help millions of people."

"Mine too," I parry.

He's silent for a moment to swallow his anger. "Going after my work is low."

"I'll go as low as necessary, buddy. I've waded through shit before, and I'm not afraid to get dirty again. But this can all stop, Dr. Ambrose. You know my condition. You can easily do your work, in peace, back in Independence or Pacific City or even a deserted island. You can save your millions there, just not here. Not in my town.
We
don't want you here."

"No,
you
don't want me here," he says, lowering his voice.

"Well, I think the current polls and general animosity around town supports my view more than yours," I counter with a smug grin.

"Yes, I suppose you should be congratulated for spreading your hate so far and wide in such a short time. How much did it cost? A million? Two? Your soul?"

"If it gets you gone, it's worth every fucking penny," I sneer. "You claim to have the city's best interest at heart. If that were true, you would have packed your bags the second he showed up. You didn't. People died."

"You're not seeing the bigger picture, Joanna. You--"

"No, you're not. Just. Leave."

"No," he says, hard as titanium.

I fold my arms across my chest. "No?"

"I am not going anywhere. I'm close to finding him," he says, lowering his voice even further. "If I leave, I'll have to start all over. Can't you see that?"

"All I see is half the hospital without windows," I say quieter. "I see people missing limbs with burns covering half their bodies when they were brought to the hospital after the bombing. I see, and smell, Brendan's corpse as it smoldered in my driveway. I see your brother holding a gun on me then injecting me with God knows what. It's on you. That's all on you. So just leave. Or I am not responsible for what I do next."

"Meaning?" He actually seems shocked and horrified as he studies my hard face. "You wouldn't."

"As I said, I'm not responsible for what I'll have to do next." Great exit line. After raising an eyebrow, I step away. His hand clamps around my wrist, stopping me. I spin around and jerk my hand away. "Do not touch me or I'll have you arrested for battery," I say loudly.

"Stop it. Just stop this. You're acting like a lunatic."

"And now we can add slander to your list of crimes!"

"Will you listen to yourself? Do you know what will happen if you do what you're threatening to?" he asks in a low whisper. "Forget about what it will do to my life, what about Lexie? It will spill over to her."

"It already has. That one's on you too."

"You cannot do this," he whispers desperately. "It will destroy everything. All I've accomplished. Do you really hate me that much?"

"I don't hate you. I feel
nothing
for you," I say through gritted teeth.

He's silent for a second, then says, "That's because you have no soul," he states as a fact. "Dress it up anyway you like Joanna, but what this comes down to is the fact that I don't want you. And from what I've experienced, I'm not surprised that no one ever has. And they never will. There is something twisted, something
wrong
inside you. At least Jordan admits his exists. You hide yours, dress it up as doing the right thing. If Justin could see you now, he'd be as disgusted with you as I am. Or maybe he did see it, and that's why he could never return your love. He saw how pathetic you really are."