Listen (Muted Trilogy Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

doctor or assistant, the white-coated man next to him, put a firm hand on Jack’s chest, indicating he should stay where he was, backing this up with a pointed look at the guard who stood next to him. He followed this up with another look at the guard Jemma could see a hint of just inside the door.
    Did Jack have heavier security because he was a man or because he’d fought his captivity harder than Jemma had?
    Jack watched Jemma intently, studying her through the glass. He was attached to a monitor like hers, and it was spiking, higher than she’d seen hers go, but her head remained silent.
    Jemma took a step toward the door, stopping when one of the guards clutched her arm. He shook his head firmly and pointed toward the window. Jack’s mouth pulled up to one side, no humor in the smile as he watched her stand back in front of the window instead.
    He turned his head toward the worker next to him, his eyes the last part of him to move, and mimed writing, his eyebrows raised and his mouth twisted downward. The worker seemed to consult with someone, typing on his keyboard, before grabbing a piece of paper, crumpling the edges in the process of handing it to Jack. The paper was followed by a pink crayon, and Jack wrote in sure strokes.
    You okay? read the page when he held it up.
    Okay? She was alive. She was being held against her will. Jack was here, too, which seemed to be somehow both a negative and a positive. She had little freedom and wasn’t sure whether any further demands would be met. She’d managed to earn a few things to make captivity more comfortable.
    Finally, she nodded, and she saw more understanding on Jack’s face than she’d expected, though she wasn’t sure why she was surprised; he always had seemed to know what she was feeling, sometimes better than she did herself, and he was in the same situation, too.
    One of the guards in his lab gestured, radiating impatience, and Jemma amended her earlier thought. Jack seemed to have it worse than she did. Jemma raised an eyebrow at him in a silent return of his question.
    His mouth pulled up into a humorless smile once more, and he shrugged.
    Been better . He rested the paper back in his lap, watching her again.
    It wasn’t like they could have a private conversation. Anything they could really say, they already likely knew. His guard gestured again, and Jack broke eye contact with her to write again.
    Stay safe .
    Jemma nodded more quickly this time, then pointed at him, silently seconding the sentiment.
    Her guard was pulling at her arm again, and Jemma wrenched it away, placing her hand flat on the glass.
    Jack watched her, his own hand opening and closing, his foot tapping as he forced himself to stay seated. His eyes were bright, not with the humor she was used to seeing, but with frustration, pain, and something else she didn’t want to put a name to.
    The guard grabbed her again, and Jemma’s back straightened as she fought a pained noise nobody would have heard anyway. When she turned the way the guard maneuvered her, the grip lightened, and Jemma had one last glimpse of Jack holding up his hand in farewell before she lost sight of the window.
    After they’d passed a few more rooms, the guard let go of Jemma but continued to walk close behind her, booted footsteps echoing through the sterile hallway.
    Jack was okay. She was okay.
    Movement behind one of the windows caught her attention, and Jemma turned her head to see a stranger in the same situation she’d been in, the same situation Jack was in, being attached to monitors while scientists tested and prodded.
    How many of the rooms they were passing held more captives? How many held volunteers? How many of the volunteers were truly free to leave?
    Her guard didn’t seem to care whether Jemma looked around, so she continued to do so, watching through the windows on her left and right while maintaining a steady pace. The next few rooms on each side were empty. After that was a room with