by Carly Fall
For four hours, he’d watched her work, and once again, her fortitude made him feel small and insignificant. What had he contributed to life since he’d landed on Earth?
Nothing.
He wished he hadn’t let fear hold him back when he’d realized what a psychopath Micah had been. His apprehension of the unknown had led him to do things he regretted, like taking part in Talin’s death, and especially working with a Colonist to eliminate the Saviors. If Simon and he had left the Platoon, the male would probably be alive today.
So many regrets.
Instead of trying to atone for his actions, he’d sunk into a deep depression, feeling so alone and isolated.
How different he’d been from Macy.
She had also been alone. As a female who’d volunteered her abilities to come and rescue the Saviors, he imagined she’d never thought she’d be stuck with a group of military males and lose her home and her family. But what had she done? She’d reached out to help others, to make a difference in others’ lives.
A tear trickled down his cheek as he thought of Simon. Yes, he missed the male, but he couldn’t keep letting the past drag him down into the abyss. It would be difficult, but perhaps he could follow Macy’s footsteps. Perhaps, he could learn to live again as he served others.
But what did he have to offer?
He had no idea.
His military skills?
He was no better than any other male living in this silo.
Maybe he’d find his special ability at some point.
As he stared at Macy, exhaustion rolled in. The space next to her looked so inviting, but he wondered if she’d mind. Besides, what would the rest of the house that came awake at this time of day say if he didn’t make an appearance?
Probably nothing.
He’d been absent for most of the year. It had only been the past couple of days that he’d actually joined in the family life of the silo.
But what would Macy say? Would she be angry?
He decided to leave, but took another glance at her. One thing he’d become sure of—Roman had been Macy’s lover at some point. She’d given him everything she had within her, and then some. He’d questioned it when she’d first seen him lying on the gurney. He had noticed the tears brimming in her eyes, as well as the fear. She’d composed herself quickly, but he’d caught it. Throughout the healing, he’d become more and more certain as he watched her work. The determination to save Roman had been astounding.
The thought rankled him a bit, but he remembered they had agreed to ‘friends with benefits.’. The feeling of jealousy had no business in their relationship.
Roman had always been decent to him, but he found it so strange that while she worked her energy into Roman’s body, his blood pumped into his veins. On a psychological level, it had been a necessity to save the male’s life. However, on an emotional plain, it had seemed so … lewd.
He stood and brushed her hair back from her face and pulled the blanket up tighter around her shoulders.
In a few hours, she would be hungry, and he planned to be the one to take care of her.
Chapter 25
“Macy.”
No, she didn’t want to wake. Her body ached and the light that had just turned on burned her eyes through her lids.
Before this interruption, her mind had been calm as a pristine pond on a spring day. She felt like she could sleep the rest of her life away.
“Macy.”
She peeled her eyes open, surprised to see Titus standing above her with a tray.
“You need to eat.”
Sighing, she rolled to her side and pulled a pillow over her head.
He chuckled. “Come on. That healing took a lot out of you last night, and it’s past lunchtime. You need to get some sustenance in you. It will make you feel better.”
She wanted to tell him to go away, but his words rang in her tired mind as truth. Some food would give her energy, but it seemed she could barely lift her head off the pillow.
“Macy.”
She heard him set the tray on the side of the bed, and smiled. It seemed the roles have been reversed. How many days had she stood at his bedside and told him he needed nutrition, and he’d feel better?
However, she didn’t want to be rude as he’d been, so she sat up. He placed the tray over her lap, and her stomach howled at the sight of the broccoli cheese soup and turkey sandwich.
“This looks wonderful,” she said, picking up the spoon.
He sat down in the overstuffed chair that had been moved from her sitting area next to her bed. Someone had obviously sat with her for a while, and she tried to remember how she got from the gym to her quarters.
She struggled to keep her manners in place as she ate, but found herself literally stuffing her face. When was the last time food tasted so good?
She couldn’t remember.
When finished, she sat back against the pillows, wiped her mouth with the napkin, and glanced over at Titus, who grinned.
“What?”
He stood and took the tray from her. “I’m glad I came down with food. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat quite like that.”
“Really? Please say you’re kidding, or I’ll be embarrassed.”
He set it down on the dresser across the room, and she took a moment to admire the way his jeans hugged his backside and thick legs. He wore his hair loose and it cascaded around his shoulders in dark waves.
“Well, granted, I haven’t been around many people lately, but that was impressive.”
She laughed, moving her gaze to her hands as he turned around and came back to the bed.
“How’s Roman?” she asked.
He sat down and let out a long breath. “Beverly says there’s not much more that can be done at this point, but he’s stable.”
She winced. “Perhaps I should go back and do another healing. I think that—”
“No, Macy. I asked Beverly if I should wake you earlier, and she said no. She wants to let him rest for a bit. She said she would call you if she needed you.”
Studying her fingernails, she felt helpless—a feeling she hated. However, if Beverly said nothing else should be done at this point, then she’d just have to believe her.
Titus grabbed her hand and squeezed. “I’m sure he’s going to be fine, Macy.”
She nodded and smiled. “Yes, let’s hope so. I just wish there was more I could do.”
“I think you gave it everything you had last night. I don’t think there’s any more to give.”
She considered her actions while working on Roman, and realized Titus was right. She had given the healing everything she could. She’d held nothing back, barely saving enough energy to disengage from Roman’s body.
Still tired, she scooted down on the pillow until her head lay on it. “I think I better rest some more.”
“I agree. I’ll come get you for dinner.”
Titus stood and grabbed the tray. He turned off the lights and opened the door.
“Thank you, Titus,” she said, feeling sleep drag her under yet again.
“Rest well, Macy.”
Chapter 26
Titus sat in the War Room after feeding Macy her dinner. As he left, she announced she would take a shower, catch up with Alaina and Liberty over some tea, then head back to bed.
“Have a good night, then. I’m on patrol tonight, so I’ll see you sometime tomorrow.”
She’d walked over to him and circled her arms around his waist. “Thanks for everything, Titus. Perhaps we can spend some time together after your patrols, snuggled under the covers.”
He’d held her close, his cock thickening at the thought. “That sounds wonderful.”
She had gazed up at him. “Be safe tonight.”
He’d kissed the tip of her nose. “Always.”
The rest of the crew on patrol tonight came in: Rayner, Axel, Jovan, and Hudson. In his opinion, Hudson should stay home as the male looked exhausted from helping Bever
ly last night, but it wasn’t his call.
Blake walked in and sat in Noah’s chair. “The big guy asked me to run this meeting. So all you fuckers can bow down to King Blake.”
Titus grinned as Rayner threw a pen at him, hitting him directly in the chest. Axel rolled his eyes, balled up a piece of paper, and launched it at him.
“All right, you ungrateful bastards.” Blake grinned. “Here are your assignments tonight. Everything’s broken up by street, by grid.”
Titus looked over the paper that had been slid his way. He’d been paired with Jovan, who seemed like a decent male, but one he hadn’t spent much time with as Jovan felt others’ emotions. His had been a cesspool lately, so he didn’t blame the male for avoiding him.
Jovan looked at his paper and then ran his hand through his hair. He glanced over at Titus, a look of loathing on his face.
“Be careful tonight, ladies,” Blake said. “We’re short on gurneys, so you fuckers better come back in better shape than Roman did last night. You leave in fifteen.”
Titus would do everything in his power to make that happen, as he didn’t think Macy had the energy to heal anyone. Thank goodness Cohen would be around tonight, but from what he’d heard today, the male had also had a rough night healing Nico, who had sustained substantial wounds in his legs during the ambush, but nothing like Roman’s injuries.
The rest of the Warriors filed out of the room while Jovan stared at Titus. He sighed and stood, but Jovan cut him off before he could get out the door.
“I get that you lost your mate, but it costs me energy trying to block your negative emotions. So let me make this clear: if you so much as think of anything but a unicorn shitting rainbows, I will leave your ass to fend for yourself.”
As Jovan’s eyes began to turn a bright, emerald green, Titus nodded. “I get it. Now go put in your contacts so you’re not lighting up downtown Phoenix like a damn Christmas tree.”
Jovan glared at him for a moment, then turned and left the room. Titus moved to the kitchen, knowing that Jovan meant no harm but only tried to save himself. Tonight, he would be sure not to think of Simon but stick to pooping unicorns, as Jovan had suggested.
Macy smiled at him and he wished he could take her into his arms as the other females did with their Warriors who were going out tonight. However, both of them had been clear about their arrangement.
Be safe, she mouthed, then headed down the hall toward the Great Room.
“Let’s go,” Jovan said, brushing by him. Jovan also heard others’ thoughts, and he wondered if he’d been listening in on Titus’ contemplations about Macy. He guessed not as Jovan didn’t say anything.
Titus followed him out and got in the front seat of the SUV while Jovan drove. Axel and Hudson crawled into the back, and they were off.
Forty-five minutes later, they pulled over, and Hudson and Axel jumped out. Jovan hit the gas and drove about a mile, then rounded the block a few times looking for a parking spot. Once he found one, he slammed the car into park and got out. Titus followed.
“Let’s just get our patrols done and not talk too much, okay? Nothing personal, just a little self-protection.”
“I understand.”
Titus looked forward to the silence, and after a few blocks, he delved deep into thought.
These patrols held a two-fold objective. If they were to be lucky enough to come across some of the Colonist offspring, they could question them, as they’d done the other night.
However, he also realized they put themselves out as bait as they walked the streets. Daniel certainly knew what the Saviors looked like, and Titus had laid eyes on Daniel while working with Micah, although he’d never met him face to face. It had surprised him how average the piece of shit Colonist had been with his mousy brown hair, pale skin, and brown eyes. He never would have given him a second thought if he’d seen him on the street. Hell, he never would have even noticed him, and that’s most likely why he was able to move through life undetected. He wasn’t a person that caught anyone’s attention for any reason.
Because of Daniel’s knowledge of the Saviors, Titus felt certain that Daniel’s followers would certainly be on the lookout for the Warriors while on their murderous path.
“Let’s do an alley sweep,” Jovan muttered, hanging a right into a darkened passageway. The clouds hid the moon, and most of the security lights on the buildings didn’t work. It was as if they went in blind—almost, but not quite.
Titus followed, concentrating on the sounds around him, listening for anything that seemed out of the ordinary.
Jovan stumbled, and Titus pulled his gun, his senses on high alert. He smelled it as he approached where Jovan had tripped, the coppery smell of fresh blood. Jovan got down on his haunches, took out a small flashlight, and turned it on. Titus looked over his shoulder.
“He’s dead,” Jovan whispered. “I tripped over the poor bastard’s foot.”
An older man, most likely homeless based on how he dressed, lay next to the dumpster with the front of his shirt and coat covered in blood. Jovan reached out and lifted his head, revealing a slice across the man’s throat.
“This is fresh,” Titus muttered as he glanced around the alley, hoping the attacker had stayed around for a while.
“Agreed.”
Titus studied the thick, gray beard and the lifeless blue eyes that stared at the ground. Anger swelled within him. This man had most likely done nothing but try to get some sleep in the alley against the dumpster, and he’d ended up with his throat slit.
“Whoa,” Jovan whispered. “Is that what I think it is?”
A black smudge ran down the man’s coat sleeve. Titus bent down next to him to take a better look. He lifted the man’s hand with his gun and brought it into the light. Black smudges covered it, as well.
Although the victim was dirty, they could tell the difference between poor hygiene and Colonist ash.
The hairs on the back of his neck began to tingle, and he slowly stood up. Glancing to his right, he saw nothing, but to his left, a figure stood at the mouth of the alley.
As cold-blooded killers, Colonists also tended to be egotistical psychopaths, the need to see their work over and over almost overwhelming.
He pulled Jovan to his feet, motioned him to be quiet, and moved to the other side of the dumpster. They crouched down and waited. Finally, they heard footsteps approach.
If it was Daniel, Titus planned to put a hole in his head.
From under the dumpster, a cat ran out with a hiss, and he thought his heart would give out at the surprise. Funny how he could be about to meet a certifiable psychopath killer and he felt calm, but a cat coming out of a dumpster rattled him.
The footsteps stopped. Whoever it was hadn’t come close to the body. They must have sensed something was off.
Then, the sound began to retreat. The person seemed to be leaving the alley.
Titus stood, seeing the outline of the figure heading toward the street again. All his senses told him it was Daniel.
He took off running, trying to keep his footfalls as quiet as possible. He succeeded for a few feet, but then his prey turned around, saw him coming, and took off.
All pretenses of quiet disappeared as his boots slammed against the pavement. He held his gun out ready to take a shot, but the person rounded the corner.
“Shit!” he whispered, running faster.
He had to be careful, as if it did turn out to be Daniel, he wouldn’t think twice of slaughtering Titus when he came around the building, so he slowed, his gun drawn.
His prey looked over his shoulder, his face illuminated by the streetlights. Titus’ suspicions were confirmed.
Daniel.
He ran at the male and heard Jovan’s heavy footsteps in alley behind him.
Keeping his eye on the prize, his anger roared. The Colonists had made his life what it had become today. If they hadn’t escaped from their moon, if they hadn’t come to Earth, the Saviors wouldn’t have been called upo
n to hunt them. If Noah’s father hadn’t lost his mind, the Miladrids never would have attacked and the rest of the Colonists never would have escaped to wreak havoc and destruction on their own planet. He wouldn’t have been sent to further the race, watching his home and family blow up in a fiery mess as he left. Micah never would have been his leader, fear wouldn’t have ruled his life, and he’d probably never had met Simon. The debilitating depression and twisting pain he fought every damn day wouldn’t be his constant companions.
All of his anger and hatred tore through him, and he became obsessed with gutting the son of a bitch and beating him with a lead pipe.
He didn’t know how long he’d been running after the Colonist, but he did know they were close to entering a populated area, although there shouldn’t be too many people around as it was a weekday.
Rounding the corner into another alley, he came to an abrupt halt. Daniel stood on the pavement, his arm wrapped around a young woman, her body shielding his. He held a knife to her throat.
“Put the gun down, Warrior.”
He studied the victim, and she reminded him a bit of Macy. Not beautiful, and sort of plain, but heavier in the torso, which effectively hid Daniel. She stared at him, her eyes wide, tears flowing down her cheeks. A bag of garbage sat on the ground next to them. Poor thing had been taking out the trash and stepped into this fuck-all.
Daniel nicked her throat, and she cried out as blood trickled down her pale skin.
He bent down slowly, setting his gun on the pavement. Breathing deeply, he fought to calm his racing heart.
Jovan came up behind him a moment later.
“You too, pretty boy. Put the weapons on the ground,” Daniel said.
Jovan glanced over at Titus, and he nodded. He wouldn’t be responsible for any more deaths of innocent people.
“So you decided to come out and play instead of having all your minions doing it for you, huh?” Jovan asked.
Daniel chuckled. “Yes. Watching the news at night is so hard knowing that my own two hands remain idle while my followers are busy at work. It’s so important to practice what you preach, don’t you agree?”