I'll Pay The Fine Later

Christie’s POV

I stood over my workbench, staring at a vial of clear liquid until my vision blurred. A tear hit the glass top of the table. I didn't wipe it away.

"I’m the doctor," I whispered to the empty room. "I’m the one with the degree. I'm the one who's out here with a mission to save lives."

But in my head, I still heard my mother’s voice. ‘You look like trash, Christie. You’re a disgrace to this family.’

She had always referred to me as an embarrassment. It didn't matter how hard I worked or how well I excelled in my studies.

I was almost like a slave in my own home. Anna was the pretty one and she got the best of everything and I had to take whatever she didn't want.

A heavy engine cut through the silence outside. It was 2:00 AM and usually, no one came around the lab at such time.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I looked at the security monitor. The screen was fuzzy, but I saw a massive shadow moving toward the entrance. I scrambled for the front door, reaching for the deadbolt.

Before my fingers could touch the metal, the door flew open. I stumbled back, my breath catching. It all happened so fast my brain could hardly keep up.

A man stood in the doorway, blocking out the light from the street. He was tall, broad, and he completely stole the air from the room.

"Who are you?" I demanded, backing away until my hips hit the lab bench.

"Get out. I’m calling the police."

My hands started to tremble.

"I’m not here to rob you, Doctor," the man said. His voice was deep, vibrating through the floorboards.

"I don't care why you’re here. How did you get past the gate?" I grabbed a heavy glass beaker, holding it like a weapon.

"Leave. Now."

"My name is Lyon," he said, stepping into the light. He didn't look like a criminal. He looked like a man who owned everything he saw. Hard jawlines, eyes that were so dark I could hardly see them, a stubble that made him look like he'd just gotten out of bed….. perhaps, the most handsome man I'd ever seen.

"I need your help, Doctor.”

"At two in the morning? In my private lab?" I shook my head, my hands trembling.

"You're in my personal space. Get out before I scream."

"The person I love most is dying," Lyon said, his eyes locking onto mine.

"The doctors gave up. The specialists said it’s over and they can't do anything. Then I saw you on the news. You found the cure."

"It’s not a cure yet! It’s in testing," I yelled. "I can't just hand it to a stranger who breaks into my workplace. That’s not how medicine works."

"It’s how it’s going to work tonight," he countered. He took another step, closing the distance.

"I’ve read your papers, Christie. I know you’re the only one who actually understands the pathology. Name your price."

"My price? You think you can buy me?"

"Everything has a price," he said flatly.

"You want a new facility? Better equipment? A house? A car? Just say the word. I’ll sign the check right now. I’ll build you a hospital with your name on the front if that’s what it takes."

"You’re insane," I snapped.

"I don't want your money. I want you to leave me alone. I am a licensed medical doctor and researcher, not some quack for hire to the highest bidder."

"You’re a doctor who saves lives and enjoys doing so," Lyon said, his tone shifting from a request to a command.

"My mother is out of time. I am not asking for a consultation. I am telling you that you’re coming with me."

"I am not going anywhere with a man who breaks down doors!" I shouted, holding the beaker higher. "There are protocols. There are legal trials—"

"I don't give a damn about protocols while my mother is suffocating!" Lyon’s voice boomed, rattling the vials on the shelf.

"I watched my mate die and I couldn't do anything. I am not watching my mother go the same way because of protocols."

"I’m sorry for your loss, but that doesn't give you the right to kidnap me!"

"I’m not kidnapping you. I’m saving her," he said.

"It's the same thing if I don't want to go!" I backed up further, but I was trapped against the equipment.

"Stay back! I mean it!"

"Are you finished?" he asked, his voice suddenly quiet and terrifying.

"No! I’m calling—"

I didn't even see him move. One second he was three feet away, and the next, he was right in front of me. He reached out and easily plucked the glass beaker from my hand, setting it on the bench behind me like it was a paper cup.

"Hey! Put that back!" I shrieked.

"We’re wasting time," Lyon said.

"I said no! I won't—"

He didn't let me finish. He lunged forward, catching me around the waist. I gasped as he hoisted me into the air, throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

"Put me down! Lyon or whoever you are! Put me down right now!" I screamed, beating his back with my fists.

"Be quiet, Christie Graves," he said, his hand clamping firmly over the back of my thighs to keep me still.

"You can't do this! This is a crime! Help! Somebody help!" I continued to beat my fists against his back, my knuckles stinging as I hit the heavy leather of his jacket.

"Keep hitting me if it makes you feel better," he muttered, his stride steady as he walked toward the door. "But we’re leaving."

"I’ll sue you! I’ll have you thrown in jail for the rest of your life!" I yelled, kicking my legs frantically.

"I'll pay the fine later," Lyon said.