The Job

by Jove Belle

  Having it all land here, on top of the one woman who she’d give anything to protect, filled her with an indescribable combination of emotions. Despair, obviously, because no matter how hard she tried, she consistently fell short of the person Tor needed her to be. Overriding that, however, was determination to get them out of this situation. The expression on Tor’s face, the soft affection that showed through between the irritation and the fear, made her want so badly. She would do anything just on the chance that Tor might be willing to try again.

  Tor brushed the back of her hand over Sera’s cheek briefly, then dropped her hands to her side.

  *

  The whole morning felt as though it’d been pulled from a surreal, larger-than-life comic-book plot. Tor wouldn’t have been surprised to see some caped superhero burst through the door with his hands on his hips and a cheesy smile on his face. He’d extend his hand like some gallant caricature of alpha male personified and say, “You’re safe now, ma’am.”

  Except she’d never been much of a comic-book girl, and men in tights made her nervous. They belonged on football fields and in ballets, but not in her overactive, freaked-out imaginary rescue scenario. If she stopped the noise in her head and allowed herself to look at Sera, to watch as she tried so hard to hold it together, to find a solution to a spectacularly fucked-up set of events, then it wasn’t so hard to believe they were all going to be just fine. When Sera said she was sorry, Tor didn’t know what exactly she was apologizing for, but she knew without a doubt she would forgive it all.

  It wasn’t the time, and it certainly wasn’t the place, but she didn’t hesitate when hit with the impulse to reach out to Sera. She went with it. The moment her fingers touched Sera’s face jolted her through her body. She’d touched her, held her hand, but it was as though Sera’s presence became real in that moment and that terrified her. If Sera appeared in her life this abruptly and unexpectedly, then she could disappear just as quickly and easily. She froze in this awkward in-between place. She wanted to never stop touching her and was shocked that she was, in fact, touching her after being denied that privilege for the past eleven years.

  She dropped her hand to her side, her mind swimming with confusion. Too many things had happened in too short a time, and she didn’t know how to process any of them. The last thing she needed was to add to the drama by starting something anew with Sera before she really knew what was going on. Regardless of how Sera was acting now, she’d entered the bank that morning as one of the armed gunmen, she’d pointed her weapon at Tor, and she’d worked in concert with them, helping to disarm the security guard and control the crowd.

  She had also placed herself between Tor and that man, Marcus, when he’d pointed a gun at her. She’d helped the injured people get out of the building. And she’d attacked Marcus when she saw the detonator, resulting in some pretty serious self-damage.

  All the events were at odds with each other, and she didn’t know which to trust. Should she believe the ones that aligned with her memories, with her knowledge of Sera? Or should she listen to the warning bells that sounded every time she thought of Sera pointing her gun at her?

  Frankly, she resented having to think about any of it. She resented the course the day had taken, starting with traffic delays and her broken heel, and continuing up to them being tossed in this room to wait quietly until the madman with his thumb on the button decided it was time to blow them all to hell. She should be in her office right now, on the phone with Chris planning a lunch date for next week. She shouldn’t be so desperate over her own survival that she didn’t have time to mourn the probable death of her best friend and the confirmed death of a close friend and trusted colleague. Edmund had died for her, and she hadn’t even cried about it because she didn’t have time.

  Perhaps this was what shock felt like.

  “Tor?” Sera stepped in closer, blocking out the rest of the room and narrowing her world to just the two of them. It was so similar to that first night, when they were young and trying to figure each other out without being too eager, yet so completely overwhelmed with each other and unable to hide it. Sera took her hand. “Are you okay?”

  “No.” She shook her head. Nothing about this was okay. She didn’t realize she was crying until Sera gently wiped her tears away. She shook her head again because she didn’t know what else to do, as she repeated the word “No” one more time. The second time, it sounded much more desperate, the way a woman being held hostage should sound, she mused. She’d never thought of herself as a hysterical woman, but apparently even she had her limits.

  She let Sera hold her. She stroked her hair and whispered softly, and it felt so much like they were twenty again. It was almost as if the last eleven years had never happened, as if they were college kids naive enough to believe that loving one another was enough to get them through anything. But it hadn’t been enough. Tor hadn’t been able to stand up to her father, and Sera hadn’t been able to wait while she figured it out. In the end, the love they shared hadn’t been enough at all.

  Still, she liked the way Sera’s arms felt around her, rubbing her biceps soothingly. She liked the sound of Sera’s voice as she promised it would all be okay. And she liked the feel of Sera’s breath against her neck, the stutter-stop of it that proved Sera was having as hard a time controlling herself as Tor was.

  “I’m sorry.” Sera whispered so softly that Tor could have imagined the words instead of hearing them, but when she tilted her head back to meet Sera’s gaze, the raw emotion in her eyes told her it didn’t matter if the words had been spoken or imagined. Either way, Sera clearly felt them with absolute conviction.

  Tor shook her head. “It’s not your fault.” The words felt true, despite evidence to the contrary.

  Sera looked at a spot just over Tor’s shoulder and took a deep breath. She tried to speak, but no words came out. Her mouth hung open for a few moments, and then she licked her lips and tried again. “I…just…I should have done more to protect you.”

  “Oh, Sera.” Tor moved her head until Sera had no choice but to look into her eyes. It was so like her to take the blame—whether it was her fault or not—when something hurt Tor.

  Sera held her gaze for a few moments before dropping her head. She mumbled. “I never imagined…this is a nightmare.”

  Tor placed her finger under Sera’s chin and urged her to tip her head up. If nothing else, she wanted to be able to see Sera, really see her, before the building exploded around them. “You’re always so hard on yourself.”

  “And you’re always so quick to forgive.”

  “No, that’s not true.” Tor was actually pretty good at holding a grudge. She was still angry with her dad for what he’d cost her, and he’d been dead for over five years now. “There was never anything to forgive.”

  Sera held her gaze this time rather than looking away like she’d been quick to do so far. She took a few shuddering, deep breaths, and Tor watched as she settled herself emotionally and physically. Sera was an athlete, competitive and focused. She’d always been good at closing out the noise and focusing on the goal.

  “You’re going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here. I promise.”

  So many things had already happened, there was no way Tor would make it through this experience unchanged. She’d already lost so much, too many friends. Still, she knew what Sera meant. Sera would make sure Tor survived, even if she had to die to make it happen. Words were inadequate to express the emotions welling inside her, resurfacing despite years of her telling herself they didn’t matter. She did the only thing she could, the only thing that made sense in an otherwise senseless set of circumstances. She kissed Sera.

  Her kiss wasn’t graceful or even appropriate, but still she angled her head just so and then leaned in until her mouth was slanted over Sera’s and all the confusion, the emotional chaos of the day, simply slipped away. Everything was still incredibly screwed up, and maybe taking time out for a moment of tenderness was a d
elay they couldn’t afford, but what if it was the only chance she had to do it?

  A small groan worked through her, muffled against Sera’s mouth as they both drew back slightly, then reconnected just as quickly. They were a bit sloppy and lacked finesse, but their connection still felt right. She couldn’t believe she’d ever let Sera get away.

  Then, just as she was settling into the kiss, sliding her arms around Sera’s neck and letting her fingers play through her hair, Sera pulled away. Tor left her eyes closed for a moment, neck extended and lips pursed, waiting for Sera to return, but it never happened. The kiss was over.

  Sera took a step back, taking Tor’s hands in hers and carefully extracting herself from Tor’s embrace. When she opened her eyes, Sera looked just as stunned as Tor felt.

  Sera touched her fingers to her lips. “Wow.”

  “Yeah, wow.”

  *

  Fifteen Years Earlier

  “Are you cold?” Sera squeezed her hand gently, and though the air held that damp chill that said winter was almost here, Tor could honestly say she was far from cold. The heat where their hands touched radiated through her body until she was aware only of how good she felt standing on that balcony holding Sera’s hand.

  “No, I’m fine.” Despite her assurances, she couldn’t stop the shiver from running through her.

  “You’re freezing.” Sera wrapped her in an embrace, pulling her close until Tor’s chest was pressed against hers and she could feel Sera’s warm breath on her cheek when she exhaled.

  Sera lowered her gaze until she was staring at Tor’s lips. Tor took a deep steadying breath, trying to ground herself in this moment. After three dates with Sera being painfully respectful, this was it. Sera was finally going to kiss her. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Sera drew in a sharp, short breath, and Tor tightened her grip on Sera’s shirt. Then, just when Tor was sure Sera would close the gap between them, Sera turned her head slightly to kiss her on the cheek before pulling away completely.

  “I need to get you home.”

  Tor opened her eyes, dazed and a little pissed that another perfect moment had slipped away. “What?”

  Sera made her way toward the door, pulling Tor along with her. Tor wanted to plant her feet, to put Sera’s arms back around her and demand to be kissed. She’d been patient, damn it, but come on. At some point, they either needed to move forward or admit they were just friends. Of course, none of her other friends looked at her the way Sera did, and they didn’t hold her hand or snuggle with her on balconies. She was also pretty damn sure that if she asked, any one of them would kiss her instead of perpetually missing the perfect moment.

  Shit. What if Sera felt the same way Tor did? What if she was waiting for Tor to take the lead? Sometimes, being a lesbian was really confusing.

  The blast of heat when they stepped back into the party proved that, despite saying otherwise, Tor really was freezing. The heat prickled her skin, bordering on painful. Sera released her hand and guided Tor to walk in front of her.

  “Lead the way.” She kept her hands on Tor’s waist, her fingers hitched in her belt loops, her thumbs working against her skin in steady circles beneath the edge of her shirt.

  “Where to?” Tor tipped her head back so that she could speak directly into Sera’s ear.

  Sera pressed her front even tighter against Tor’s back and squeezed her sides. “Wherever you want.”

  They were at a random party and neither of them knew the house. It was crowded and loud, and sobriety had clearly left the building. While she wanted to kiss Sera, and much more, she didn’t want to do it with an audience of drunk college boys.

  “Can we get out of here?”

  Sera nuzzled her ear for a moment before answering. “Absolutely.” That time, Tor’s shiver had nothing to do with the temperature.

  They made their way out the front door and were hit with the cold again. Tor paused at the street. “Which way?”

  Sera hesitated, then said, “Remmy went home for the weekend.”

  Tor smiled and pulled Sera into a run. “Your place, then.”

  Sera laughed and chased her. Tor didn’t stop until they hit the dorm. She wasn’t much of an athlete, preferring to limit her workouts to yoga class, but she loved the way she felt with Sera chasing her. It was the anticipation of what would happen if she was caught that made her keep going. She wanted Sera to catch her, for sure, but she loved how hard Sera was willing to work for it.

  When they arrived at Sera’s room, all the fun faded, leaving them standing just inside the door, staring at each other while a seriousness she’d never felt with Sera settled over them. She stepped closer and brushed her hand over Sera’s cheek. “What is it?”

  Sera took her hand and stared into her eyes as she kissed Tor’s palm. “I…” She took a deep breath and tried again. “I just like you so much.”

  The confession didn’t explain Sera’s hesitation, and she’d be more excited if it didn’t feel like a “but” was attached to the end of the sentence. It was too soon to feel so much. Tor understood that. She could hear every well-formulated argument against falling for Sera, all the reasons this was a bad idea, playing through her head in her father’s voice. Still, that didn’t stop her breath from catching in her throat, and it didn’t stop her heart from skipping in her chest.

  “I like you, too.”

  Sera’s smile took over her whole face, her whole body. Every thought Tor originally had about Sera being smooth and cool when she’d first come up to her in the library was destroyed by the look on Sera’s face, as if she was barely holding herself back from clapping and hopping up and down with excitement. Her affection for Sera, on the other hand, grew even bigger. She loved that she could take this otherwise together person and turn her into a silly, slightly out-of-control girl.

  Sera tried to calm her expression, but it didn’t work. “I really want to kiss you now.”

  Yes! Tor stared at Sera, afraid to close her eyes and miss the moment. Sera, for her brave declaration, didn’t move. Finally, in utter exasperation, Tor grabbed Sera by the shirt and pulled her closer.

  “Then do it.” Her words came out in a slur, muffled as her lips touched Sera’s for the first time. Every cliché about fireworks and exploding planets and waterfalls and bells ringing and birds singing went off in her head at the same time. She melted into Sera, her legs going weak and her grip faltering. All she could think about, all she could focus on, was the perfection of Sera’s mouth slanted over hers. She pulled back, wrapped her arms around Sera’s neck, and pulled her back in tight. Sera kissed her like she would never get enough, and that was just fine with Tor. She planned to keep doing this forever.

  Chapter Twelve

  Sera took an unsteady step away from Tor. “Shit.”

  She couldn’t afford to be distracted from the work ahead of her. Other people’s lives depended on her keeping her shit together, on her ability to stay focused. It was up to her to stop Marcus. She couldn’t do that if the ache in her gut sidetracked her. Rather than fading as she spent time with Tor, it had grown stronger, periodically flaring to unbearable. She braced her hand on the shelf and took a deep breath. This happened every time she was near Tor. Tor made her forget herself until her life, her vision, was reduced to just the two of them.

  “Sera?” Tor reached for her, her face filled with confusion and a desperate need to touch that Sera hadn’t seen in so long.

  “No.” Sera stepped back again. They had so many unanswered questions between them. She couldn’t just ignore them, no matter how badly she wanted to. Today, she was an FBI agent with a job to do, not a doe-eyed lovesick college student who could give in to the urge to follow wherever Tor led. “I can’t do this right now.”

  “Okay.” Tor’s voice was shaky.

  Sera averted her gaze. If she looked into Tor’s eyes, saw the hurt she knew was there, she’d never be able to jolt herself into action. She needed to focus on their next step, to talk to Be
th and sort things out. She pulled her phone from her pocket. The battery was down to one bar and wouldn’t hold out much longer. “Can you help free the others? I need to make a phone call.”

  “Before you do that,” Tor stepped into the gap Sera had created between them and placed her hand over Sera’s, blocking her from dialing the phone, “promise me we will talk about this. You’re not just going to walk away and leave me here alone.”

  Tor left “like you did before” off the end of her statement, but Sera heard it as clearly as if she’d said the words. Even though she knew it was a bad idea, she met Tor’s gaze. She was angry that Tor had reduced what had happened between them before to one simple act. Sera hadn’t just walked away. God knows she’d tried, but in the end, what choice did she have? Tor loved her, she knew she did, just not enough to say it when it really mattered. And it hurt like nothing she’d ever experienced to have Tor deny her.

  “Do you really think it was that simple?”

  “No. God, no. Just…” Tor cleared her throat. “It happened.”

  “I think we remember things differently.”

  “I’m not saying I’m without blame.” Tor spoke softly, her voice trailing off as she stared into Sera’s eyes.

  Sera scoffed. The words Tor was saying were simply too ridiculous, like she really thought Sera could have stayed given the circumstances. Tor had made it painfully clear where her loyalty lay, and it wasn’t with Sera. As much as she wanted to respond, she couldn’t find the words. She shook her head and looked away.

  “Please, Sera, I know…I just know, all right? But I’ve waited for eleven years to try to fix it. Just…please?”

  Her impulse, even after all these years, was to give Tor everything she asked, everything she wanted. That wouldn’t keep them alive, however. She shook her head because anything else would lead to an argument that she didn’t have time for.