Darkest Day (StrikeForce #3)

by Colleen Vanderlinden

  “You fucking son of a bitch,” I hissed into the phone. The only answer was Killjoy’s cold laugh.

  “I hope you learned something from this. You think you can just move on? You think you can try to destroy my life and everything will just be okay? I’m everywhere, you stupid whore. There’s not a move you make that you won’t pay for. I’ll destroy everything you care about and make you watch it happen. You’ll be alone and desperate, and eventually it will hit you, that I’m the only one you need, the only one who can make it all stop hurting. And you’ll help me regain everything you made me lose.”

  “You are insane.”

  “Nearly killed Render, huh? Almost too bad he didn’t die. I’d love to see how that played out in the media. Ah well. Too bad he failed. I hear your partner is still alive.”

  “I am going to destroy you. I swear to god I won’t rest until you’re dead,” I promised.

  There was a pause, and then a laugh. “Not if I don’t destroy you first.” The call ended, and I stood there for a while, staring at my phone and starting to pull myself together.

  When I went back into his room, Ryan was awake and watching me closely.

  “Killjoy,” he said, and I nodded.

  He started to say something, and I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  “Want to read some more?”

  He nodded, and I settled myself back into the chair, and forced myself to focus on what was happening in the room, nothing more. I focused on the story, on the sound of Ryan’s monitors beeping, and being there for him.

  Because it was starting to hit me that maybe someday I wouldn’t be. Because Killjoy wouldn’t stop, and it was just hitting me that it wouldn’t end until one of us was dead. I would try to make sure it wasn’t me, but knowing what it would likely take had my stomach churning.

  Focus. Ryan. Story. I could do this, for now, at least.

  Chapter Fifteen

  We spent the next two days in pretty much the same pattern, alternately reading and dozing, and Ryan continued to improve. Like all super powered people, he healed faster than a normal human. None of us healed as quickly as Killjoy, but we healed at a decent rate. Still, Dr. Ali warned him to take it easy when she released him. I sat and waited as he changed into the clothes I’d brought him from his suite, and then we were ready to go. We made our way through the hospital wing, to our tower, and then to the elevator. When we got on, I pressed the button for his floor and glanced at him to see him watching me.

  “Screwy as it sounds, I’m kind of sorry that’s over,” he said.

  I furrowed my brow. “Why?”

  “I had really good company,” he said with a tiny smile, his eyes locked on mine. “Developed an appreciation for historical romance,” he said, and I laughed. “Never woke up alone.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Well. I’m still going to be a pest checking on you. I’ll try not to bother you too much, but—“

  “Jolene.”

  I looked up at him again, and he took a step toward me. It felt like my heart was about to pound out of my chest.

  “Bother me. Invade my apartment whenever you want. Refuse to leave. You can even play nurse if you want to.”

  “I—“

  “Nothing’s better than waking up to you in the morning. I’m not ready to let that go.”

  I looked away.

  ‘Look at me,” he murmured, and I forced my eyes back to his. “You think the rogue and the duke were out of their minds? They didn’t want their women half as much as I want you. And because you seem to not be getting it when I’m subtle, I’m gonna be very clear: I want you. And if you want to hear something sure to freak you out even more, I’m pretty sure I love you. Just so there’s no confusion.”

  I didn’t know what to say. What I wanted to say, I was too messed up to manage.

  “You need to hear it more. I was trying to give you time. But almost dying puts things in perspective. And now you know how I feel, even if it scares the shit out of you.” He slowly, gently pulled me into his arms, and just the tenderness in that one moment was enough to make tears come to my eyes.

  I didn’t answer. I was a mess. A crazy jumble of joy and absolute panic, the sinuous voice that sounded suspiciously like Killjoy telling me that he was probably lying. That there was something else he wanted from me.

  I hesitantly put my arms around him, careful not to press too close to him because of his injuries. He hit the button to stop the elevator. I glanced up at him in surprise. “We’re having this out now. Did you hear me? I love you.”

  “I heard you.”

  His eyes searched mine. “And you love me, too, even if it scares the fuck out of you to say it. I’m not Killjoy. I’m not any man you’ve ever known. I’m yours.”

  I wiped away the stupid tears in my eyes. “Why are you doing this?” I asked him. “You don’t—“

  “I’m doing this because I love you and I want you to know. I want a life with you. And I know you’re not there yet. but I needed you to know.”

  I closed my eyes, and more tears fell. He was killing me. I felt like I was being torn apart from the inside. I wanted so badly to believe him, but it was too much. It was too perfect. And I knew he wasn’t Killjoy, but something in me just couldn’t accept that anything this good was within my reach.

  “What if I never get there?” I whispered. “I’m so fucked up, Ryan.”

  He brought his hands up to my shoulders, rested them there, and used his thumbs to tilt my chin up so I was looking at him. “Then I’m gonna die someday with the biggest case of the blue balls anyone’s ever seen. And I’ll spend every day still in love with you.”

  I wanted him. I loved him. I knew it. But I was still waiting, somewhere deep inside, for him to betray me. And if he did, it would destroy me. I’d thought what I’d felt for Killjoy was at least the beginning of what it felt like to be in love. What I felt for Ryan dwarfed that the way the brightness of the sun dwarfs the flame of a birthday candle. I knew now that love was all-encompassing, terrifying, so strong it made it impossible to breathe sometimes. I knew that the man in front of me was the only one I ever wanted touching me, talking to me, listening to my secrets and fears.

  He was watching me work through it all. He ran a thumb down my throat, and I realized he was also the only one who could touch my neck without me totally freaking out. I trusted him in ways I’d never trusted anyone, and maybe that was what terrified me most of all. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, nuzzling his face against my hair for a moment before slowly stepping away. He hit the button to get the elevator moving again, and I stood there not knowing where to look or what to say, everything in me screaming for his touch again, even as I wanted to run as far and as fast from him as I could, because I am a coward.

  The doors opened on his floor, and I numbly walked with him to his suite. He unlocked it and we walked in.

  He turned and looked at me. Then he smiled. “You have a shift in a bit, huh?”

  I nodded. Normal conversation. Good. I felt like I was back on solid ground. “Portia’s about to fire me, I think, unless I start taking some patrol shifts again.”

  He laughed. “Will you be back here later?” he asked.

  I looked up at him again. “Yeah. I’ll be back.”

  “Good,” he said quietly. “Be careful.”

  I nodded, and then I turned and walked out. Careful. That was what I was being with him.

  Or a complete idiot, depending on how you looked at it.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I did my patrol shift with Max, checked in at Command to see if Render was awake yet, then changed and took off again. I was maybe, okay definitely, avoiding Ryan, and I knew I’d promised him I’d be back, but I couldn’t handle it just then. Everything was just too much with him right now. I was all off, my mind and emotions a mess. I needed something else.

  What I really needed was my mother.

 
I caught a bus and rode it to the stop near the cemetery, then walked several blocks in the mild, late winter weather until the tall iron fences came into view. I made my way into the cemetery, noting a few cars here and there pulled to the side of the road while people visited grave sites. I kept my hands stuffed in my pockets and walked toward Mama’s grave with its giant marble angel.

  When I got there, I knelt down and just stared at the headstone for a while. I read the chiseled words, even though I already knew what they said.

  Amelia Frances Faraday

  Mother, nurse, friend.

  The world is darker without you.

  Beneath that, her birthdate and the date I’d lost her.

  I stared at that bottom date hard. Christ, it hurt. I’d been avoiding feeling this, avoiding letting myself think about it, because it was all too hard. Keeping busy, hunting her murderer… I’d told myself that it was my own way of healing, that I was fine. But the fact was, I missed my Mama. And I needed her.

  “Remember that StrikeForce guy with the nice butt, Mama?” I murmured, feeling stupid, just as I did every time I did this, but needing it anyway. “He says he loves me.” I bit my lip and shook my head. “I’m so goddamn scared, Mama. I’m scared I’m wrong about him. I was so wrong last time and you paid the price for it. I don’t think he’d ever hurt me. I don’t think he’d ever mean to,” I corrected myself. “Even more than that, I’m scared of what will happen to him if I love him back. If I let him close to me. He nearly died, because Killjoy knows that he matters to me. Because he’s an insane, jealous, evil piece of shit,” I growled, swiping at the stupid tears flowing from my eyes. “I can’t do this again, but god, do I want him, Mama.”

  I stopped talking for a while, trying to get myself under control, but the stupid tears kept coming. For Mama, for Ryan. All of the terror I’d felt in that moment when I’d seen him bleeding, all of the worry I’d kept under control watching him in surgery, all of it came out now, when I’d done such a good job of repressing it before.

  “I wish you were here,” I croaked. “Tell me what to do. Tell me everything’s going to be okay. I almost killed someone, Mama, and I didn’t even care in the moment. I don’t know who I am sometimes anymore, and it scares the hell out of me. I don’t know how to do this.” I buried my face in my hands, unable to stop crying now. I was aware, somehow, that this was a breakdown of sorts, but I had no idea how to stop it. I sat there for a long time. I didn’t feel any better, but I also felt like I wasn’t about to explode, so maybe that was progress. I tried to pull myself together as much as possible, whispered an “I love you,” to Mama, and then made my way out of the cemetery. I caught another bus to a little coffee place I liked near Grosse Pointe. When I got there, I stood in line and breathed in the scent of strong coffee. It immediately made me think of Ryan, and I shoved it away.

  “Jolene?” a deep voice asked behind me. I turned to see Justin, the carpenter who’d worked on the house I’d planned to surprise Mama with. Also one hell of a kisser.

  “Justin! How are you?” I asked.

  He held a hand out and I shook it. He seemed to study my face. I could only imagine that it wasn’t a pretty sight. My eyes still felt swollen from crying.

  “I’m okay. Busy, but good. How about you?”

  “I’m okay. Mostly,” I said with a small laugh. He smiled.

  “Can I join you?” he asked, and I nodded. We each ordered our coffees and carried them to one of the small tables near the front windows of the coffee shop. We sipped our coffee in silence for a while, and then I asked him about any jobs he’d worked on lately, and he talked about work for a while.

  He got up a while later to grab another coffee.

  I watched his retreating back. I’d wondered if I’d feel any of the attraction I’d once felt toward him. I already knew he was a damn good kisser. The sex would probably phenomenal. But I just wasn’t interested, and I was pretty sure I knew why. I suppressed a sigh.

  Justin walked back to the table carrying two coffees. He set one down in front of me.

  “Thanks,” I said. He sat across from me, and our knees bumped under the table. He smelled good. He looked good. Kissed so good I’d practically forgotten my name that time I’d locked lips with him. And having him this close did absolutely nothing for me, yet even the thought of Ryan was enough to send my entire system into turmoil.

  Damn it.

  “Any other interesting jobs lately?” I asked him.

  He shrugged. “A couple of fun restorations. One in Indian Village and another near Midtown. I finally have a bit of a break. It was swamped there for a while.” He paused. “I saw a fight between some StrikeForce people and a couple of villain types the other day.”

  I glanced at him, keeping my face blank.

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “Beta and Toxxin versus some guy who was controlling flocks of pigeons and using them to attack people.”

  I tried not to laugh. That guy had been the talk of the day at Command that day, mostly because all we could picture was the sight of people running in a panic from the swarms of enraged, confused pigeons. I cleared my throat. “Well, that’s an interesting villainous power.”

  “It was such a joke. I mean, what’s Beta’s thing? Super speed? And then you have the girl who can poison people with a touch, chasing after some whack job who talks to animals like some kind of deranged Doctor Doolittle.”

  “Which part of it was a joke?” I asked, trying again to keep my face and voice neutral. I knew he wasn’t crazy about StrikeForce. He wasn’t alone in that, but it still pissed me off. We worked our asses off. We got hurt. And sometimes we screwed up, and sometimes we screwed up majorly, but we were all this city had. Nobody else gave a damn, that much was for certain.

  “StrikeForce. It was like watching those clowns that come out of the clown car at the circus, watching Beta and Toxxin chase him around.”

  I bit my lip, then took a sip of my coffee. It didn’t taste any better to me than the first cup had. Clearly, I was used to Ryan’s snob coffee. “Did StrikeForce get the guy?”

  “Yeah. Eventually. It was just so stupid.”

  “So, it would have been better if they’d not bothered trying to catch the guy at all? Just let him mess with innocent people who are just going about their business? And then what? Maybe eventually he decides to go bigger. Maybe it’s rabid dogs next time or something like that.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “So what was so bad about it? It took them a little time? I’m guessing they had to make sure they didn’t hurt any bystanders in the process. And there are always gawkers and media around when StrikeForce is working.”

  “Nevermind. I shouldn’t have said anything. I forgot you were a fan,” he said, and he didn’t roll his eyes but I could totally tell that he wanted to.

  “I don’t think it’s a matter of being a fan or not. Everyone dumps on them and never actually says what they’d do differently.”

  “Definitely not chase him around like an asshole,” Justin said with a laugh.

  “What, then?”

  “Shoot him. One less powered person out there. We don’t need powered people protecting us. We need our police to do what needs to be done.”

  “Are you serious with this? Just shoot citizens of our country because they’re different.”

  “When they’re dangerous, yeah.”

  I stared at him. And then I stood up. “I think I should get going.”

  “Jolene, come on,” he said, standing up. I reached for my coat and he stepped toward me. The look on my face must have been enough, because he didn’t bother coming any closer. “Look, we can agree to disagree about this. You think they’re great, I think they’re going to be the death of all of us. Okay?”

  “And that’s fine. But you just sat there and said, flat out, that you’re fine with the police hauling off and shooting people for nothing more than being different.”

  “Their job is to keep us— yo
u know what? You’re right. Okay? Can we talk about something else?”

  “I have to work early,” I muttered.

  “What kind of place do you work where a security guard needs to be there early?” he asked. I’d told him before that I was a security guard. Close enough, I guess.

  “A bank,” I said.

  “Look, don’t leave like this. You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

  I took a breath and looked up. “You know, ‘you’re blowing this out of proportion,’ goes right along with telling a woman to calm down or doing a fake-ass ‘I’m sorry you’re upset’ non-apology when you fuck up. I am not blowing anything out of proportion. Maybe the guy who just sat there suggesting that innocent people get shot because of something they can’t help was the one blowing things out of proportion, hm?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Now you think I’m an asshole.”

  “Nah. I’m like ninety-eight percent sure you’re an asshole,” I said.

  “Does it mater that one of those freaks caused my best friend’s death?” he asked. His jaw was clenched, his posture tense.

  “Dude. One of those super powered freaks caused my mom’s death. You don’t see me talking about killing them all.” Just one of them, I thought to myself. And even that one, I wasn’t so sure I could go through with in the end. “Grow up. Move on. Stop being blinded by fear and hatred.” I pulled my coat on and zipped it. “Thanks for the coffee.”

  I walked out of the coffee shop and headed toward the bus stop.

  Well, that had been disappointing. So why was I smiling? Why did I feel lighter, when really I should be so pissed I wanted to punch his stupid perfect face? I thought about that as I walked, as I waited at the bus stop, as I settled into my seat and stared out the windows without really seeing anything. And then it hit me: I’d held myself back from him, when I had every single reason to fall into his arms when we’d first met. Other than that kiss, I hadn’t let him get close, even though he wanted it. He’d seemed perfect in every way, and I hadn’t been drawn in only to have my heart ripped out when it was too late.