Michelle Maddox - Countdown

Oh, God. The agony! It spread around my entire brain, squeezing and squeezing until I thought my head would burst. But then it finally eased, leaving behind a pain deep enough that I had to keep my eyes shut, grinding my fists into them to focus myself.

Were those actual thoughts? Did I just read Rogan's mind? But they couldn't be real thoughts. They were disjointed and didn't make any sense. They were all over the place.

It was more like an imprint-like a snapshot-of who Rogan truly was in words.

Painful words.

"Kira," Rogan murmured as he fell to the floor beside me and gathered me into his arms. He kissed my forehead softly and stroked the still-damp dark hair back from my face. "Are you okay? What was that? I felt you. I felt you in my head."

Without saying anything-I wasn't sure I could have if I tried-I let him hold me, and I wrapped my arms tightly around him. I wasn't lying before. He smelled good, so very good. I let his scent fill my senses, and it helped to chase the pain away until I could think straight again.

Finally I moved back, but he held my face in his hands, staring at me so intently. His robe gaped open at the front, and I could see the smooth line of muscled chest down to his waist.

"You definitely didn't do it," I said simply, and a great relief filled his gaze.

He shook his head. "No, I didn't."

"I believe you."

"So I'm guessing you're a psi."

"Good guess. I was low-level, but it seems to be getting a hell of a lot stronger as time goes by, if you ask me."

He stroked the dark hair off my forehead again. "That was a hell of a lot sexier than a regular palm reading."

I smiled weakly. "What can I say? I aim to please."

He gave me a lopsided grin. "All right, now that we've established that I'm innocent once and for all, now what?"

"Now I want you to tell me what you're really guilty of."

His grin fell away. "What do you mean?"

I met his gaze and held it, while my head continued to throb. "You said yourself that you're guilty as hell of something I probably wouldn't forgive you for. And I just felt it right then. It's eating you alive inside. Whatever this is, you hate yourself for it, and you think I will, too. And if it isn't the rape and murder of innocent women, and if it isn't killing my family, then I don't know what else it could be."

He tried to look away, but I grabbed his collar again.

'Tell me," I said, firmer. "We're not going anywhere until you do. And I don't want to use my flex on you again, because my head just might blow up next time." I frowned.

"What is it?"

"It's just… just that I've never heard the person I'm reading before. It's always just been flashes of insight. Moods or feelings or… I don't even know how to explain it. But with you, just then, I could almost… read what you were thinking down deep."

He raised an eyebrow. "And what was I thinking?"

My cheeks warmed. "You were thinking that I'm beautiful."

He made a barking laugh noise. "Now that she's all bathed and shampooed, she's gone conceited on me."

I just looked at him.

He cleared his throat. "Well, that's a given, really. You're gorgeous, and I'm sure you damn well know it. How can I not notice that? So what else did you mind-read on me?"

"That you want revenge on somebody so badly you want them dead. And that you feel deeply responsible for something horrible that happened. That's happening."

His jaw tensed and he didn't say anything.

I stood up from the floor and moved toward the spread of food again, thinking hard. "You know, ever since this game began, you seem to have known a hell of a lot about it. Little insights and little helps that I wouldn't have guessed. I mean, right at the beginning you knew that the room we were in had collapsed on itself, remember? But you didn't actually see that. How could you know?"

His throat worked as he swallowed. "Kira … just forget it."

"No, I'm not forgetting it. You said you came from Saradone. But how do I know that's true?"

"It's true." There was no more lightness in his voice. "I was in there for four goddamned years. Don't tell me that you're doubting me again. I thought we established that I'm not lying to you."

"No, but you're not telling me something. That's different from not lying."

"Just forget it. Trust me, Kira. You don't want to know."

There was silence between us for a moment.

"Do you know somebody named Gareth?" I asked suddenly.

His face went as still and expressionless as stone. "How do you know that name?"

"Jonathan told me that he's the producer of The Countdown." I crossed my arms. "Jonathan told me a lot of things, and even though I now know he's a liar, it doesn't mean everything he said was untrue. I'm just wondering how connected you are with this game. Why did this Gareth guy pick you? Why did they try to injure you at the very beginning so you wouldn't last long? What's so damn special about you if you were just in jail for something you didn't even do?"

His expression had darkened considerably. "You ask a lot of questions."

"And I'm not done yet. Tell me who this Gareth guy is."

He studied me for what seemed like an hour but was probably no more than a minute. "Gareth is my brother."

I stared at him. "What did you just say?"

Rogan's throat worked as he swallowed. "You heard me."

"But… but how is that even possible? Why would your brother put you in this game? Does he even know you're here?"

He hissed out a long breath and went to stand in front of the display screen with the fake view of that perpetually setting sun. The warm colors reflected against his handsome, scarred face. "He knows. It's … it's complicated."

"How could you have a brother who would create a game like this that kills people for the amusement of the subscribers?"

He laughed then, and it was a hollow, soulless sound. "See, now you come to the true secret, Kira. The one I would rather you'd never found out about me. You really want to know how fucked-up my life is? Maybe then you can go back to hating me."

"What are you talking about?"

He still refused to look directly at me. His arms were tightly crossed in front of him. "My brother didn't create The Countdown. I did."

My eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"

"Look at me, Kira." He turned to face me completely. "Do you see this ruin of a man in front of you? I wasn't always like this. Ten years ago, when my parents died, I was one of the richest people in the world. Have you heard of Ellis Enterprises?"

I blinked, trying to process what he was telling me. Have it make some sort of sense. "I… I think so. Sure. I have. It's the huge company that used to make all the computers."

He nodded. "Yeah, among other things. I took the money that my father had built up over a lifetime. Shit, the man made money even during the worst days after the plague. Nobody made money then. But he …" He shook his head, his expression pained. "He managed to squeeze out every penny he could. And when I inherited his fortune, did I do any good with all that money?"

"Rogan … are you serious about all of this?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. You've wanted to know more about me since we met. Well, guess what? You're going to get the fast-forward in the Rogan Ellis School of Losers right now. I had billions of dollars, Kira. Billions. I could have made such a difference to the world with that kind of money. But I just spent it on selfish things. Entertainment, cars, property, women." He spat out the words. "Forget Kerometh, I got to try all the fancy drugs that didn't have any side effects. But none of it made me happy. I was so bored with my life that I couldn't think straight."