First Light

by Isabel Jolie

  “This what you want?”

  “Yeah. If there are cameras… I’d rather what happens between us remain private.”

  I stumbled, tripping over the edge of a rug, arm out as I retraced my steps. My knee hit the fold-out bed first, and I felt my way along the rumpled comforter, crawling my way back up to her.

  “Cameras. Your brother?”

  “Well, I let a swarm of agents up here. We could have teams of people watching, for all I know. Or listening.”

  I trailed kisses down her neck to her breasts.

  “Well, if someone’s listening, we should give them a show.” I twirled my tongue around her nipple, then clamped my teeth around the bud.

  Her fingers scratched my scalp, and I scraped my smooth jaw between her breasts until she squirmed.

  “Just so you know, I haven’t broken any laws.”

  I kissed the hollow between her breasts.

  “I’m sure you have. Were you the one managing the servers?”

  “Yes.” Her legs wrapped around me, and I pressed against her. I wanted inside her. My cock throbbed with need.

  “I’m sure you broke the law.” I nuzzled below her ear. “Probably many laws.” I heard her intake of air, felt her muscles tense. “And your brother is a criminal.” I raised up on my arms. “Doesn’t mean we can’t fuck.”

  I settled between her legs, the tip of my iron-hard erection inches from her core. And I kissed her. Her fingernails scratched my back, and her thighs wrapped around me, inching me closer.

  The pounding of rain on top of the metal roof hit a crescendo, overpowering all other sounds. Inside her compound, need raged. I explored the familiar curves I’d missed. My tongue teased her nipple, and I sucked and bit, lavishing attention on both of her small, perfect breasts. Her fingers reached between us and wrapped around my cock. Her thumb coaxed the tip, smearing the pre-cum. The pressure on the base of my spine intensified.

  I tasted my way down her body. Her thighs fell to my shoulders. In the dark, we were shadows. She rested back on her elbows, watching. I dipped my tongue, and she whimpered. Her fingers guided my head, directing, begging. I slipped a finger inside, and her thighs jerked. I worked her with my tongue and fingers until she pushed up, quivering and chanting and shouting.

  So fucking sweet. I loved her taste, her feel, her smell, and most of all I loved how good it fucking felt to ease my hips into the cradle of hers. My hardness rubbed against her dripping wet sex, and she shuddered. She gripped my ass and tugged.

  “Please. Logan. Please.”

  My lips found hers as I thrust into her. Our tongues matched the pace of our hips. Slow at first, as she stretched around me, tight, warm, and wet. God, she was heaven. My body craved hers. So arousing, so perfect.

  “You feel insanely good. So tight.” I lifted her knee higher, raising her ass off the mattress, driving home deeper, taking her harder. The storm outside roared as her sounds became louder, as if she was in a competition with the world outside. Panting. Groaning. “Yes—right there—fuck.”

  I thrust hard, my rhythm in concert with the hurricane. She shuddered beneath me and whimpered.

  I flipped her around on the bed like a rag doll, experimenting with positions, determining what felt best not by her facial expressions, which I couldn’t see, but by the strength of her moans, the feel of her muscles and how tight her channel gripped my cock.

  I worked her mound with my palm as I slammed into her. Sweat dripped down my temple, my muscles trembled, my lower back tensed. Then she pulsed around me as she shrieked, and my groin tightened, and my thrusts became erratic as ecstasy rolled between us.

  I collapsed onto her, incapable of movement. My heartrate slowed as I gasped for breath.

  The wind outside had picked up into a freight train chorus. A crash against the side of the building sent Nym to our side. I patted the bed, making room at our feet for the dog to join us, and pulled her naked body to my side, nestling us under the covers.

  The battering on the roof had grown so loud it sounded like the roof might crash down or a tree might come through the wall. She caressed my jaw. She might like the beard, but I liked feeling the pads of her fingers against my skin. I loved her naked body against mine. I’d missed her so fucking much. But I didn’t love every single thing about her.

  “Are we okay?” Her tentative question spelled out our reality.

  “I’m still angry.” The weight of her head shifted against my chest, and I clamped an arm around her, holding her in place. “But I’m more angry at myself. I didn’t listen to my gut. You even switched phones, and I didn’t catch it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You had a BlackBerry. Then suddenly you had an iPhone.”

  “Yeah. But I figured you’d think the BlackBerry was for work.”

  “It was for Erik. Right?”

  “He thinks it’s the least likely to be hacked. He was the only one who called me on it. Always with a burner.”

  “He used a burner phone, and you didn’t stop to think he wasn’t up to no good?” Irritation subtly displaced utter bliss.

  “I knew he’d gotten in over his head. But I know him. I trusted he’d dig himself out.”

  “And you named your dogs after hackers.” I scratched my head. I wasn’t up on the hacking world, so I refused to beat myself up for missing that one.

  “They are?” I chuckled at the surprise in her question.

  “Did you not name ’em?”

  “No. I figured they were from some action movie. All of Erik’s avatars are named after movie characters.” I made a mental note to mention this to Matt, but they’d probably already figured that out if his online aliases followed the same naming methodology.

  “Can you promise me something?”

  “What?”

  “No more lies? Moving forward? Or will you have this allegiance to your brother…”

  She raised up on her forearms, and the bone of her arm protruded into my chest. It hurt, but not enough for me to shift out from under her. In the dark, I could barely see those eyes, but more than anything, I needed to hear her.

  “I promise. No more lies. I can’t tell you I won’t try to protect him or help him, but I’ll tell you if I do.”

  “That’s all I ask.” She settled back down onto my chest. I pressed my lips to her temple. I had thought I could walk away. Turn my back on her. Cast my judgement. I buried my nose into her hair, breathing her in, holding on to her as if she were my lifeline. “I’m never letting you go.”

  “I can’t change Erik. I have no influence on him.”

  “You’re right. And given I’m in law enforcement, he’s hardly ideal family. But here’s the thing. You deserve someone who can give you children. And I can’t seem to do that. Yet you didn’t bat an eye at being with me. Our future won’t be Christmas card perfect, but it’s the only future I want.”

  Chapter 30

  Cali

  * * *

  The storm passed, as storms did.

  The quiet woke us from a restless sleep. We ventured downstairs and out the door into an eerie darkness. Hands linked, our vision adapted. The rays of the first light cracked through the trees. A chorus of toads and crickets rose to a staccato. Nym trotted around, tail wagging, exploring the wasteland.

  A glimmer of light filtered through the trees. Daybreak transformed the dark to light.

  “First light.” Logan pointed through the trees. “In the military, it’s what we call it. Been a while since I’ve been up for it.”

  Murky, brown water skimmed the lower lying paved street in front of the building. Toppled trees littered the pavement and all through the woods. The golf cart wouldn’t have been able to make it far, but the department’s ATV could successfully ramble over the carnage.

  “I’ve had this song running through my head all through the night.”

  “Oh, yeah?” We stood outside as, minute by minute, our surrounding grew lighter. I kept an eye out for snakes, knowi
ng many might be displaced. He nudged me, waiting for me to continue.

  “Bob Marley’s song. My mom used to sing it all the time. She’d belt it out, singing “Every Little Thing’s Gonna Be Alright.” I tapped his chest to the beat. “This. Is. My. Message. To. You.”

  A giggle escaped as he lifted me and twirled me around as if I were as light as I felt, completely weightless. I would’ve been more than content to go back inside and spend a leisurely morning in bed, but Logan was fueled by an internal need to survey Hurricane Melba’s damage.

  After we completed a loop, in some areas wading through water one to two feet deep, Logan reported back to Chad. The club’s swimming pools were now murky brown, fences blown over, some homes had roof and siding damage. Dark water swirled in ponds and lakes where dry land formerly stood. Sand covered much of the asphalt near the ocean.

  Logan fielded a flurry of inquiries from homeowners and friends who got word he was on the island and could check on their homes.

  I attempted to call my father and my brother. Neither picked up. I considered tapping out our old childhood code, but the reality was, if the NSA monitored my texts, they’d figure it out. Our number coding qualified as extraordinarily basic. Each number represented a letter in the English alphabet, only we’d reversed it, so the letter one equaled Z. We’d done it since we were kids. In retrospect, maybe our affinity for a secret language foreshadowed our future. So, skipping the code, I texted my dad through my iMessage app.

  All safe. Storm passed. I love you both.

  Logan’s house survived relatively unscathed. Random sticks and debris scattered throughout his yard and over parts of the street through his neighborhood. The white clapboard needed a fresh paint job after the wrath of Melba, but other than that, his house stood solid. They had built his home in a section that rose high enough, and remained inland enough, he had no flooding.

  We parked the ATV, mindful of preserving gasoline, and walked the short distance to my house. The structure itself remained undamaged, probably because of the high-end metal shutters that covered all windows and doors. But a significant portion of the beach had been washed away, and the bulk of the wooden boardwalk extending from my house out to the ocean had been ripped away. The edge of the boardwalk eerily hung over the sand with about a five-foot drop. A passerby might assume someone had just stopped building the boardwalk halfway out over the dunes.

  Logan helped me roll up the metal shutters. The island had no electricity or running water, and we expected it wouldn’t for quite some time. Reports from the mainland coming in indicated Southport and other towns along the coast had been hit hard and were also without electricity. Those more populated areas would be higher priority. I packed up my rubber rain boots, lots of old shorts and t-shirts I wouldn’t mind ruining, and everything I needed for Nym, and we carried it all back to Logan’s.

  “It feels surreal, doesn’t it?” I asked as we lugged my stuff back to his place, taking breaks along the black asphalt road to rest our hands. “We’re the only humans in an evacuated town.”

  “We should make the most of it.” He grinned.

  When we arrived back at his place, slightly sweaty from hauling the bags, I asked, “So, where do we start?”

  He picked me up, my legs circling his waist, and carried me to his bedroom, where he kicked the door closed and promptly dropped me onto the bed.

  “Don’t we have things to do?”

  “The list is endless. Residents will probably start returning tomorrow. Sure, we can get a head start on clearing the paths, but Chad is sending backhoes that will be far more efficient. And today? It’s only us.”

  Chapter 31

  Logan

  6 weeks later

  * * *

  The backhoe’s engine roared over the peaceful hum of the ocean’s waves. I waved a sweaty, gloved hand in the air, letting the driver know I’d looped the chain around the tree, so he could reverse and drag it into a more manageable location. Island clean-up had been going on full steam for over two weeks. The streets were clear of debris and fallen trees. Electricity had returned, and with it, sewage. The ferry wouldn’t be running for a while yet, but residents with private means of getting across were trickling in.

  Only a handful of families had returned when we didn’t have electricity. We’d gather most evenings and grill food on a charcoal grill, not too differently than we imagined the generator society had done. Chad had told me about the group in one of our phone calls. He said nineteen families moved out here in 1970. They thought they’d have electricity by 1972. Electricity didn’t reach the island until 1980. Whenever someone would get particularly frustrated about the slow restoration of electricity, a frustrated comment would undoubtedly be met with something along the lines of, “If the generator society survived, we can too.”

  I checked the time and climbed on my ATV to pick up Matt. He’d texted that he needed to visit. Cali and Luna had gone over to the mainland to do a big grocery shop, since none of the stores or restaurants on Haven had reopened. I hadn’t mentioned his visit to Cali, more because I hadn’t wanted to concern her. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t concerned. Although, if he needed Cali to be here, he would’ve told me. The last we talked, the FBI didn’t plan to press charges against her. He arrived alone, driving what I assumed was a rented boat.

  “Hey. Where’d you get this boat?”

  “The marina owner across the way.”

  “Mac?” I’d driven a few boats that way before the hurricane on behalf of owners seeking dry dock storage.

  “Yeah, he didn’t have time to drive me over but offered to let me take his boat.”

  “You flashed him your badge, didn’t you?”

  He grinned. “That’s why we have badges.”

  I helped him tie up, and he jumped off the boat onto the dock.

  “What brings you out here?”

  “I have a proposition.”

  “I’m listening.” The sun shone into his eyes, and he held up a hand to combat the glare. “You want to go over to the shade, over there?”

  The Wisp, my favorite little hangout overlooking the marina, remained closed and shuttered, but their built-in picnic tables had survived the storm. He pointed at them. I led the way with Matt two steps behind me.

  “Should I be nervous?” I asked over my shoulder.

  “No.”

  We sat down across from each other. The low hum of engines sounded in the distance, along with the revving of a chainsaw.

  “I want you to come work with us. In DC.”

  “You couldn’t call me and ask?” The only reason he’d insist on seeing me in person, especially when we were in clean-up mode, was if he didn’t want to be overheard.

  “Well, it’s more impactful in person. But, if you agree, I have more to tell you.”

  I scratched my jaw. I’d grown the beard back. Mainly because we went so long without running water. And, well, she liked it.

  “There are several positions within NSA that I think could be a good fit. This out here, it’s not a good use of your expertise and skill set. It was only meant to give you a chance to regroup.” What he meant was he’d expected this assignment would be temporary while I gathered my emotions, licked my wounds, and learned to control my anger.

  “You going to bring me through it all out here?” I slapped a tiny biting insect on my neck.

  “No. I want you to come to DC. You’ll meet with my boss, several of the groups. Talk with them. But it’ll be a chance for us to work together.”

  “I’m open to it, but I can’t give you an affirmative without knowing specifics, and I need to talk to Cali.”

  “Everything still good with you two?”

  “As good as it gets.” I looked him directly in the eye. She didn’t have a ring on her finger, but he needed to know that while I’d backed away earlier, no matter what he said, I wasn’t backing away now.

  “There could be positions for her.”

  “She’s happy d
oing translations.” We’d talked enough about plans that I knew she was itching to make progress on some of her projects. And I didn’t want him bringing her into anything that might be remotely dangerous. I didn’t doubt the CIA would snap her up in a heartbeat.

  “Well, that’s fine. You’re not the only person who wants to keep her out of the line of fire.”

  I leaned forward across the wooden table, urging him to explain that statement. He glanced left and right and looked over his shoulder. Satisfied no one lurked nearby, he said, “We’ve recruited Erik.”

  “Really?”

  “He came to me. He’s got a team ready and willing. He’s serious about taking down Spectre, but he’s decided he can’t do it on his own.”

  “He hasn’t been in touch with her since you interrogated her. At least, that’s what she’s told me.” And I believed her. “She doesn’t think she’s going to hear from him. She feels like her dad and Erik have both written her off.”

  “He’s convinced he has to play it this way. He says too many people know who he is now. He thinks she’s safest if he remains out of touch. He’s wicked good at multiple identities. You’d think he trained with us.”

  “I’ll need to tell her this.”

  “I know. Be careful. Tell her outside. Before too many people are back on the island.”

  “She’s back at the house now. Do you want to see her?”

  “No. I promised Erik I’d stay away from her. He recognizes she’d make an ideal recruit, but he swears too many others are aware of her. I don’t know if he’s right about that. But I can tell you one thing—he loves his sister. And he’s a connected man. Word of advice, treat her right.”

  When I returned home, the cool air from the now functioning air conditioning wrapped around me the second I opened my door. Nym stood two feet away, alert, tail wagging.

  “Cali? You home?” Brown paper bags lined up along the counter, and empty oversized reusable bags scattered across the floor.