by Jus Accardo
Noah came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Stop, man. You’re going to make it worse. If you break it, there’s a chance it’ll fry her.”
Cade shook him off and continued trying, and I finally found my voice. This girl had no desire to be fried. Ripping my arm away, I took a step back. Secret time was over. For real. “I’m done. This has been an insane trip and all, but I’m over it. One—or better yet, both—of you better start talking.”
Noah wasn’t interested in my speech. “Move it.” He grabbed my arm and started dragging me toward the door. “We’re taking you back to the base.”
“Like hell,” I snapped. A blow from me to a guy like Noah would probably be a lot like a tickle to an elephant. He was cut and then some. Possibly even more so than Cade. Since I knew damn well I couldn’t get his attention with my fists, I decided to use my fingers. Gripping a section of skin on his forearm between my thumb and pointer, I twisted hard.
He cursed and let go, glaring with what looked to me like the expression of a man planning a murder spree. “You ever do that again—”
“Same goes for you,” I snarled, and whirled on Cade.
He seemed to be the most reasonable. Not to say reasonable. Just the most reasonable. I opened my mouth to continue, but I glanced down at my wrist, and a tremor ran through me. Dad would tell me to use my fear as fuel. Let it propel me toward my ultimate goal. Living. Staying alive. That was the goal here. Not to end up dead as a result of someone else’s fight.
Dad’s voice echoed inside my head. Don’t lose sight of the goal, Kori.
Deep breath. Okay. I could do this. “I don’t give two monkey shits about whatever promises you might have made to my dad about keeping me safe. You can keep your war games and classified meetings and secret plans. I don’t care about whatever it is you have brewing with this Dylan freak. But that wack job just came into my house—into my bedroom—and threatened to kill people. People like my dad. He snapped this thing on me.” I held up my hand and gave it a wiggle. “Whatever it is, I get the impression that it’s not the latest in wrist wear fashion. No more secrets. Whatever is going on involves me now, and I want answers. Is this thing a bomb?”
Please. Not a bomb. Don’t be a bomb…
“It’s not a bomb,” Cade responded, and I let out a relieved breath.
Oh, thank God…
He stood a little straighter. The color had returned to his face, and he didn’t look so much like a corpse now. But his expression bothered me. A cross between fear and sad acceptance. Almost like he knew I was a goner, but didn’t have the heart to admit it out loud.
I tamped down my growing fears and pushed ahead. “And this Infinity Division? What is it and how’s it connected to my dad?”
Cade took a deep breath. “Infinity is a secret government project headed by your father.”
Okay. Now we were getting somewhere. Granted he was giving me as little as possible, but I could work with it. Start with the basics. “And this Tribunal Dylan was talking about? I get the feeling he’s not looking to bake them cookies.”
“Revenge,” Cade answered. That was it. One word. No elaboration.
But I was nothing if not determined. The daughter of General Karl Anderson wasn’t so easily deterred—mainly because, as Dad put it, I could be a pain in the ass when I wanted to. I took pride in that. “What does Infinity do? Are we talking tactical ops? Or covert rescue? Enemy infiltration?”
“That’s classified,” Noah snapped.
“What they do isn’t as important as getting that cuff off,” Cade interjected. He shot Noah an angry glare, then refocused on me. “I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”
“What is this thing exactly?” I looked down at the cuff on my wrist. There was nothing imposing about it. But judging by the way Cade had gone into Hulk mode trying to get it off, it was far from innocuous. We’d established it wasn’t a bomb, yet Noah said it could fry me. Not really a win in my book.
And he wanted me to trust him? I tried not to laugh. Dad told me once that trust was a precious thing. It needed to be cultivated and earned. I agreed. These two hadn’t cultivated anything other than fiction in the short time I’d known them, so trust wasn’t really on the table.
Yet there was something in Cade’s eyes that sent chills racing up and down my spine. Good chills—the guy was hot as hell and that kiss was still fresh in my mind—but bad chills as well. Whatever Dad was into—whatever the Infinity Division was—was on the verge of exploding. And this thing on my wrist? I got the feeling it was the detonator, and I was going to end up being ground zero…
He hesitated. I was about to push, but he sighed and said, “It’s government issue. From the Infinity project. It’s part of a larger device that, if activated, will start a timer.”
My pulse kicked into overdrive and a wave of cold rolled over me. That word again. Timer. Timers were never a good thing. From the moment Mom learned her cancer was inoperable, there’d been a timer hanging over her head, ticking the seconds away. Every moment I spent with my dad was counted. Measured against his job and responsibilities to our country. Life, in general, was one big timer. Every breath we took was equal to a minute, counting down to our final hour.
No. Timers were never a good thing. At the end, you always lost something important. Something you couldn’t get back. “Timer for what?”
“Infinity deals with highly advanced sciences. The work it does is decades ahead of where the world believes us to be.” He inclined his head toward my wrist. “When Dylan activates his cuff and the timer on yours reaches zero, that cuff will do something I don’t believe you’ll survive.”
I swallowed. He was being annoyingly vague and, judging by the look in his eyes, this was bad with a capital B. Obviously I hadn’t expected him to say something good, like I’d be getting my very own pony and a year’s supply of peach yogurt, but ouch.
Strategy. We needed one. A plan of attack. That’s how wars were won. That, and knowing your enemy. “So Dylan is what, a rogue Infinity agent? Is that the beef he’s got with my dad?”
“That would best classify him,” was Cade’s answer. Short, simple, and empty. There was more to it, obviously, but digging for specifics could come later. As long as the basics were laid out to start, I could move forward.
“Okay.” I deserved a big cookie for pretending to keep it together. Really, what I wanted was to find a nice dark closet and scream into a pillow at the top of my lungs until my voice was gone and I’d cried myself dry. “What about these Infinity people? They made it, right? Can’t they just give us the key?”
“It’s not that simple,” Noah said. “We should definitely try, but don’t get your hopes up.”
Wasn’t he just the picture of positivity? I wanted to argue. If they made the thing, then why the hell couldn’t they take it off? But we didn’t have time right now. “Three days. Dylan gave us three days to find this Ava girl—”
“That’s providing he keeps his word,” Noah interjected with a sharp glance in Cade’s direction. “He can technically leave any time he wants.” He turned to Cade. “So why three days? Since when does he work on a specific timetable?”
Cade frowned. “I’m not sure, but it worries me.”
“Maybe he’s—”
Jesus. Was this something that needed to be hashed out now? Weren’t there more important things to focus on? I whistled, and they both froze. “If these Infinity people can’t get it off, then is finding Ava possible? I mean, do you know who this girl is?”
They exchanged another look. One that made me uneasy.
Cade was the one who answered. “We know who she is. But finding her might prove difficult, if not impossible.”
“And why is that?”
“If it were that simple, Dylan would have found her by now. He’s been here two days already. If he hasn’t, it means she’s not where she should be, or…” He looked from me to Noah, cringing.
“Or that she’s gone,�
� Noah finished. He reached across to my desk and snatched the open bag of potato chips. Popping one into his mouth, he shrugged and added, “She could be dead.”
Dead. Like I was going to be. “Wonderful.”
“First things first,” Cade declared. “We should contact the general. Let him know that Kori is wearing a cuff.”
“That might be tough to do.” Normal parents left contact numbers when they went away on business trips, but Dad’s job wasn’t exactly playing register jockey at the local Stop and Shop. He checked in with me when he could, but getting a hold of him wasn’t usually possible. “He went to Washington. I have no idea—”
More crunching from Noah. “He’s not in Washington.”
“Jesus, Noah!” Cade snapped.
“What?” He stuffed a small handful of chips into his mouth, crunching loudly. “It’s the truth. Personally, I think this is a waste of time. We should be focusing on the important stuff.”
The important stuff? Sonofa—
“Not in Washington?” That was it. I yanked the bag from his hands, balled it up, and tossed it across the room, scattering crumpled bits of potato chips across my floor. He cursed nonstop, pranced around in worn civilian clothing, and made himself at home in his superior’s house? Everything about the guy screamed disrespect. “And what the hell kind of solider are you, anyway?”
He stalked across the room and retrieved the bag, making a show of tearing the foil open and dumping the remaining contents into his open mouth. “An unwilling one,” he mumbled, mouth full.
“Unwilling? What the hell kind of answer is that?”
He swallowed and hitched a thumb toward Cade. “I go where he does. End of story.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” I said in mock apology. After everything I’d been through, the last thing I needed was more of this guy’s attitude. “I didn’t realize another person could make you join the army.”
Noah came at me, stopping inches from my face. I hadn’t realized until now how tall he was. Over six feet. “I never joined the damned army—”
Cade, previously the more stable of the two, smashed his fist into the wall by my door. The plaster bowed, small bits and pieces spraying out in all directions. “Anderson!”
“What?” Noah and I roared at the same time.
Horror.
It was all over Cade’s face. Slowly, I turned to Noah. The same was mirrored in his expression, but there was something else. Something angry. Something oddly familiar. Blue eyes narrowed to thin slits and lips pressed in a thin line, he reminded me a little of Dad when he lost his cool—which wasn’t often. I’d seen it happen only twice.
“I want the truth,” I said as quietly as I could. “The entire truth. None of this classified garbage. None of this need to know crap. The whole damn story.”
“You don’t have the clear—”
I held up my hand and stuck it in his face. “Do not finish that sentence. You never joined the army, remember?” I turned to Cade. “Talk. Now.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Cade snapped. “We need to find out if anyone on that base can unlock the cuff. If not, we need to focus and find Ava.”
“Fine.” I stepped through the door, out into the hallway. “But this is my life, boys. I don’t know you, so I have no intention of trusting you with it. I’m going with you.”
Noah’s face contorted, a mask of annoyance over my declaration, but Cade seemed pleased. He nodded and gestured to the door, snickering under his breath. “Let’s all go have a chat with the commander, then.”
...
It took forever to get through the late morning gate check. It brought a rush of bittersweet memories. At Dad’s last post, Fort Andrews, Mom and I had gone binge shopping. Shoes for her, art supplies for me. We’d come back sated, stuffed from a junk food lunch, and having to pee. There’s nothing quite like being stuck in a line of ten cars while having your eyeballs float from one-too-many cherry colas.
Fort Hannity was huge. I’d never seen the entire thing. Hell, I’d never even seen the housing section. When we’d moved to Wells, I made a promise to myself not to get too involved with anyone. Dad never stayed in one place very long, and even though he’d promised this assignment was different, that we were here to stay, I didn’t believe him.
Once through the security check, we were met by Sergeant Moore, a stocky man with no expression, wearing the regulation army greens. He’d escorted Cade and me to the commander’s office, then left with Noah. No complaints from me. The entire ride over here, he glared at me through the rearview mirror like he wanted to eject me from the moving vehicle.
“That guy is the biggest asshole I’ve ever met. And that’s saying a lot.”
Cade snickered. We’d been in the commander’s office for a few minutes now, and the silence was driving me nuts. “Noah? Most people say he’s an acquired taste. But he’d give his life for me. We’ve been friends since we were born, practically.”
“Well, then you’re a damn saint.” I took a deep breath. Time to ask. The question had been burning a hole in the roof of my mouth since his outburst back at the house. I wanted to know where my dad was if he wasn’t in Washington—and how a lowly private and a fuzzy would be privilege to that intel, but more than that, Cade’s outburst was driving me nuts. I needed to know. “You weren’t talking to me. Back at my house when you said Anderson. You weren’t talking to me.”
This whole thing had passed surreal and entered impossible. Sure, Noah could have the same last name as me. There were plenty of Andersons out there. My second grade teacher was an Anderson of no relation. So was a guidance counselor in my last high school. He could also have the same intense blue eyes and sharp cheekbones as Dad, as well as the intense glare and commanding attitude. But what were the chances? Cousin? Was it possible that I had family I hadn’t met? Why wouldn’t anyone have told me?
“I was talking to Noah,” he admitted. He sighed and dropped his head into his hands, threading his fingers through his hair. After a minute, he leaned back. In that moment he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Like someone who’d been on the run, trying to avoid his demons, for ages. “This whole thing is complicated, Kori. Like, more than you can possibly imagine.”
I sat down across from him. “I’m a fairly intelligent girl. Try me.”
“It’s not really my place to—”
“Of course not.” I folded my arms and bit down on my tongue to keep from saying something nasty. I wanted to rip this guy a new one—several new ones at this point—but I knew he was still my best shot at information. Even my temper wasn’t bad enough to blow that.
I knew the score. There were things he wasn’t allowed to tell me. Secrets and operational details that might possibly put people’s lives at risk. I was a reasonable girl. I got that. But he had to give me something. Twice now. This Dylan jerk had come at me twice—three times if you counted that first weird encounter. That made me a part of whatever the hell was going on. Then there was the whole Dad’s not in Washington bit. Like I was going to just let that go?
“What about you? This whole thing seems like it’s pretty far up the food chain. What’s a private first class doing in the thick of it?” I eyed him suspiciously. “Unless you’re not really a private?”
“I am. Technically.”
Beep. Beep. Danger alert!
“Technically?” Because that didn’t raise a thousand more questions he probably had no intention of answering.
“I suppose it would depend on who you ask. Technically I’ve gone through basic training. Done my time in the trenches, so to speak. But fourteen months back there was an incident…”
“Let me guess. Involving Dylan?”
He nodded. “Yes. I was brought into the Infinity project—I volunteered, actually. That’s how I was able to come to Fort Hannity. See, Noah and I—we shouldn’t be here…” There was something about the way he lingered on that last phrase that made my stomach twist and the hairs stand up on the back
of my neck.
“Be here? Like, alive? Are you trying to say the project saved your life or something?”
He thought about it for a minute, then sighed. “I guess you could say that, though not in the way you’re thinking. Noah and I lost someone. Someone who was more important to us than anything else in the world. The work Infinity does made it possible to deal with our grief in a productive and potentially helpful way.”
Things started falling into place. The disgusted scowls and angry glares from Noah. The attitude and venom. “This person you lost, I remind Noah of her, don’t I? That’s why he hates me so much.” I still didn’t like the guy, but I could almost understand his vitriol. Then I remembered the kiss. My skin heated, and I was sure my cheeks flushed. I cleared my throat and sat back in my seat. “I remind you of her, too. That’s why you—”
“You don’t remind us of her, Kori.” He took a deep breath, and I was sure he’d let it go. Leave me hanging again, foaming at the mouth for an answer. But I was wrong. He turned and took my hands in his. They were warm, and I couldn’t help noticing how my fingers fit perfectly into his palm. Like resting them there was the most natural thing in the world. Our eyes met and I wanted to look away. The intensity of his stare was like a blade cutting straight through me. But I couldn’t. I was riveted. Enthralled by the pain and regret in his eyes. “You are her.”
Chapter Eight
“I’m her,” I repeated, and pulled my hands from his. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
He stood. “You, Noah, and I have been inseparable since we could pretty much walk. It was the three of us against the world. Your dad, the general, is like a father to me.”
It’s always the pretty ones, isn’t it?
Apparently the army should have done a better job evaluating his mental health, because Cade Granger was certifiable. Like, bring the meds down in busloads and get thee to a rubber room kind of loony.
“I’d never seen either of you before you showed up on my doorstep for babysitting detail.” I sighed. Maybe it wasn’t insanity. Maybe this was his way of flirting. Kind of like telling a girl she was your destiny. The one you dreamed of every night. He either needed to revamp his romantic approach or was in need of professional help. You know, the kind they offer with white jackets and padded rooms? Possibly even strong narcotics and electroshock treatment.