June 2240
Working at the base and learning the inner workings of the military with his father proved to be more interesting than André expected. The only drawback was constantly dodging the sexual advances of the female workforce. And he truly hated getting up at six in the morning, especially after a night with a colicky baby, and tonight was no different.
“Sammy’s crying again,” Katrina mumbled and pushed André to the edge of the bed.
“I have to work in the morning,” André grumbled.
“Can’t you just go get the bottle so I can feed him?”
Her whine grated on his nerves. “Fine,” André snapped and got out of the bed, crossing the room to the crib. “What’s up, Sammy?” He picked up the baby and the stench drifted from the diapers, assaulting his senses. “Shit,” he muttered, changing Sam’s dirty diaper and sending an occasional glare at Katrina. She had fallen back to sleep and he was now wide-awake. “I swear, she does this just to piss me off,” he whispered to Sam and glanced at the clock. The display read a little after three in the morning.
Sam cooed up at his father, happy to be in a dry diaper and in his father’s arms.
“You’re not going back to sleep, are you?” He looked down at his son with a sigh. André took a seat in the glider and slowly rocked Sam, humming a familiar tune from the radio, the notes rumbling softly in his chest.
Katrina opened her eyes and smiled.
Her smile only served to irritate him further. He needed sleep but that didn’t stop her from making him help her at night. “You can take over now,” he said, getting up and bringing Sam to her. He slid under the covers and closed his eyes and within a few minutes, his breathing was even and deep, sleep taking over once again.
The shrill alarm filled the room at six and André slammed it off, turning his head away from the clock, closing his eyes.
Time to get up. His father’s words echoed in his mind.
“I know. I know,” he mumbled and rolled out of bed. A half hour later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in khakis and a dress shirt. He sat on the edge of the bed, slipping his socks and shoes on. “Love you,” he said and kissed the back of Katrina’s head, but she didn’t stir.
André walked downstairs, rolling the cuffs of his sleeves up and savoring the delectable scent of bacon hanging in the air. His mouth watered in response and when he rounded the corner into the kitchen, his mother placed a full plate of bacon and eggs on the table for him. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, reaching for the glass of juice next to his plate and sending her a tired smile.
“You’re welcome.”
Matthew folded the paper down. “I have an early meeting so you need to get moving.”
André cleaned off his plate in record time. He wiped his mouth with the napkin and dropped it on the table. After he put the dirty dishes in the sanitizer, he turned to Matthew. “I’m ready.”
“Is everything all right?” Matthew asked as André climbed into the front seat of the hovercraft.
“I’m just tired,” André said, rubbing his face and stifling a yawn. “Sam woke up a couple times last night.”
Matthew smiled and pulled out of the driveway, heading in the direction of their office. “It isn’t easy, now is it?”
Irritation prickled and André bit down on the derogatory comment that almost slipped out. Instead, he looked out the window, ignoring his father, and as they passed the lake, he sighed. God, I’d like to just take a day and go swimming.
“That’s not an option, André,” Matthew said, addressing his son’s thoughts. “You need the money for daycare during the school year.”
“I know,” he snapped, glaring at his father. “You remind me every chance you get.”
Matthew nodded. “Raising a child isn’t easy.”
“Please shut up. I’m already in a bad mood; I don’t need you making it worse.”
Matthew let out a small laugh. “I’ve got some paperwork that needs to be copied for a presentation that we’re giving tomorrow. Think you can handle it?”
André rolled his eyes and glanced sideways at his father. “Yeah, I can handle it.”
They walked into the office fifteen minutes later. As usual, the women they passed stopped whatever they were doing and stared at André. He heard every dirty thought and after the last month, he couldn’t help but grin.
“Wipe that grin off your face, will ya?” Matthew said.
“You’d be smiling if their thoughts were aimed at you.”
Matthew scoffed and glanced in André’s direction.
“Liar,” André said as they passed into his father’s office.
Matthew walked to the desk and picked up a thick stack of papers. “I need a hundred copies of this put into the binders that are in the copy room.” He handed the stack to André. “There should be enough paper and binders. If you run out, please see Emma; she can show you where the supplies are.”
André looked at the hefty stack and back at his father. “Color copies?”
“Yes.”
“No problem,” André said and turned, the level of his irritation growing at another menial task. At least when he was working on a computer, he could stay awake, but hanging in the copy room all day wasn’t a lively prospect. He yawned and slapped the pages on the copier, pressing the commands for color printing with the proper paper source.
Time dragged and every time he sat down, his head bobbed to his chest and he popped to his feet to stave off the exhaustion. Two hours and twenty binders later, Georgia, one of the new employees in the office, came into the copy room. André looked up, surprised by the interruption.
Heat from more than the copier filled the small space and she sent a come-hither smile over her shoulder as she shut and locked the door.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but he already knew what was on her mind, and he licked his lips, stepping back into the binder-filled counter behind him.
Georgia pulled out the Oriental pins holding her hair in a tight bun, dropping them to the floor. Her thick black hair fell in curls beyond her shoulders and she smiled, her full red lips curving deliciously. “What do you think I’m doing?”
Her voice said it all. André let out a nervous laugh, his voice mysteriously absent with the stunning woman approaching him and unbuttoning her shirt. Her blue eyes rivaled his and they scanned him from head to toe and back, turning his blood into a racing river of hormones.
She stopped in front of him, standing eye to eye with him and dropping her shirt to the floor, revealing a lacy pink bra.
“I’m married,” André said and took in her slim athletic form.
“So am I.” She ran her hands up his chest, finding and unbuttoning each latch of his shirt.
André inhaled, blocking all thoughts from his mind and fighting the raging lust torching his skin. When she pressed her soft lips against his, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth, allowing her tongue access, weakening his resolve. His hands found her waist and he pushed her gently away.
“I can’t do this,” he whispered, opening his eyes and regretting the lapse, but the need coursing through his blood left him panting and aching to remove the rest of her clothing and do all the naughty things fluttering through her head.
Georgia smiled. “Yes you can.” She reached for the front of his pants, rubbing and unbuckling and unzipping. She leaned in again, kissing him with the same fervor as before and this time he couldn’t bring himself to stop her. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her, letting her silky skin ignite him. The phrase “Georgia peach” drifted through his head and he grinned under the pressure of her lips, his hands skating over her flesh, intent on exploring every crevice.
The door swung open.
André pushed Georgia away, stumbling backwards into the table and knocking over a stack of binders. The smack of the plastic on the floor knocked his senses back in place and he shot his gaze to Georgia, who remained staring at him, her skin flushed and feverish even with her boss st
anding behind her.
Matthew swiped her shirt off the ground and handed it to her. “My office in ten minutes.” He barked the command and waited until she dressed and left the room before focusing on André.
Matthew closed the door behind him and balled his hands into fists, frustration screaming through his veins. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Not a whole hell of a lot,” André answered, glaring back at his father. He could have spouted a ream of excuses, but he knew none of them warranted his actions. “So I kissed Georgia. What the hell are you going to do about it?”
Matthew mentally shoved André and he slammed into the back wall hard enough to see stars. He blinked to clear his vision and straightened up against the wall. “Dad, you don’t want to play this game with me,” André warned, his own anger rearing its ugly head.
“Why not?” Matthew growled. A box of paper went flying off the shelf in André’s direction.
It stopped mid-air in the center of the room.
“Because you will lose,” André hissed and the box dropped to the floor with a thud.
The men glared from opposite sides of the room.
“What do you think this is going to do to Katrina?” Matthew asked.
The mere mention of her name slammed the fire out of André, replacing it with devastation so black it took the strength out of his legs. André slid to the floor and buried his head in his arms. He had been so frustrated with Katrina for the past few weeks that he almost tossed their marriage out the window at the first opportunity. “I can’t do this, Dad.”
“You can’t do what?” Matthew asked.
“I can’t be married and raise a family,” he said, his words muffled in his arms.
“You should have thought of that last year, André,” Matthew said with a voice as harsh as the truth. “I’ve got no sympathy for your ‘oh woe is me’ attitude. You’re the one who created this mess and now you’ve got to live with it.”
André raised his head, blinking away the red sheen of tears. “I can’t do this.”
Matthew walked over and crouched down in front of him. “No one ever said marriage is easy. If you thought it was, you are sorely mistaken. It’s a lot of work, same with raising a family. I never had an infant, so I can’t say I know exactly what you’re going through right now, but you are not a quitter.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I didn’t raise you to be one,” he snarled and stood up. “Button up your shirt,” he added and walked out of the room.
André rethreaded the buttons and tucked his shirt back in, heading into the bathroom. He knew Georgia was only acting on the vibe he was sending out, but the thing that burned him the most as he stood looking at his reflection was this time he would have let her do everything her filthy mind insinuated if his father hadn’t interrupted.
André threw some cold water on his face and wiped it with a paper towel before heading into his father’s office. Matthew glanced up from the phone and pointed toward the door, his face pinched with concern.
André shut the door behind him, scanning Matthew’s thoughts, looking for what he was going to do but finding something much darker: the content of his current conversation.
“Out,” Matthew directed at André, covering the receiver with his hand.
André shook his head and took a seat on the couch, interested in the details he was peeling from his father’s brain and that of the official on the other end of the line.
Matthew turned the chair away from André and focused his attention back to the phone call. “Where is it now?”
André stared at the back of the chair, gleaning much more of the conversation than his father wanted him to. He broke into a cold sweat.
“How long until it hits? Tell the president we will have a plan together in two hours.” He swung the chair around and hung up the phone. “I really don’t have time for your little lapse right now, André.”
André stood on legs that felt like stilts. The latent fear hidden in his father’s heart seized his muscles into a tight bundle of nerves, but he knew he could stop the ball of destruction heading toward Earth. “I can stop it from hitting, Dad.”
Matthew raised his eyebrows. “Stop what?”
“The meteor,” André said. “You just have to bring me somewhere so I can see it coming.”
“André, there’s no way you could stop a meteor of this size. I’m not sure anything we throw at it will stop it.”
“I can.”
“It’s the size of Texas and traveling at over thirty-five miles per second.”
“Yes,” André said without hesitation. “Trust me, I can stop it.”
Matthew laughed.
“What’s so funny?” André snapped.
“I really don’t have time, André,” Matthew replied.
André walked over to the window. “How much does the annex to this building weigh?”
“I have no idea,” Matthew said, irritation creeping into his tone. “Now if you wouldn’t mind?” The sound of breaking glass and creaking metal filled the room and Matthew spun around, looking out the window, his jaw dropping at the sight before him.
The annex building, the equivalent of three city blocks, pulled out of the ground, foundation and all. The glass walkway shattered and the metal attachments twisted and broke, leaving a gaping hole between the buildings.
André glanced in his father’s direction, still concentrating on making the building rise.
“Put it back, André,” Matthew gasped, and the building lowered into the ground. He shot a glance at his son. “Jesus.”
“So are you going to take me up to space or what?” There would be hell to pay for what he just did, but André was ready, especially in light of the planet-killing machine vaulting toward them.
Matthew considered his alternatives and glanced at André. He turned and picked up the phone. “Emma, get me the president,” he said. “I understand. Just get me the president.” He hung up. “You realize this is your coming out party.”
André glanced back at the building and nodded, pushing the exhaustion raking his bones away. He looked up at the sky beyond the dome and prayed he was right. “Where is it supposed to hit?”
“The Atlantic Ocean,” Matthew replied.
“When?”
“Ten days.”
“Where do you want the thing to go?” André said, still studying the sky.
“Pardon?”
“Where do you want it to go instead of here?” He looked at his father. “Do you want it to end up orbiting the moon or continue into the sun?”
The phone rang and Matthew picked it up. “I don’t need two hours, Mitch,” he said to the president. “I’ve got the answer in my office.” He took a deep breath. “But it’s going to mean that secret we discussed last month will have to be revealed.” He glanced over at André. “He says he can stop it and after the little display of his, I think he may be our only shot.” He smiled a little at the response. “He lifted the annex building right out of the ground, foundation and all.” He listened again. “You want to fly with us?” he asked, surprise lacing his voice. “You still get airsick?” Matthew laughed at the response. “We’re going up tomorrow and will be up there for a couple days. You sure you want to float in space with us?” He nodded. “I’m scheduling take off at noon.” He glanced at André. “See you then, sir.” He hung up the phone. “I’ll let the president answer that when we are up in space,” he replied to André’s last question.
André continued to look at the sky. “Don’t fire Georgia,” he said, without looking at his father.
“She tried to seduce a minor,” Matthew replied.
André smiled and glanced sideways at his father. “Before I hooked up with Kat, I screwed anyone who’d spread their legs for me and there were a lot of willing girls at school. So blaming Georgia doesn’t fly. She’s just reacting to whatever vibe I’m sending off.” He paused, returning his gaze to the window. “I co
uld have said no and that would have been the end of it.” He aimlessly turned his wedding band around on his finger.
Matthew sighed and pressed the intercom. “Send her in,” he told Emma.
Aggravation pulsed in his temple and he tightened his jaw, sliding his glance toward the door as Georgia entered the office.
The door closed behind her and she jumped, her mouth dropping with a gasp of surprise before she caught sight of André. Her demeanor changed from nervous to sensual and her stride turned sultry like a hungry panther on the prowl. She crossed to the chair and slid into it, licking her pouty lips before turning her attention back to Matthew.
“Ms. Simmons, do you know why I called you in to my office?” he asked.
Georgia’s eyes wandered over to André. “No,” she said as she looked back at her boss.
“You tried to seduce my son today,” he said, leaning back in the seat, studying her expression.
Georgia nodded, letting her eyes wander back to André.
“He’s only seventeen,” Matthew replied.
Georgia’s eyes widened. “Sev...Seventeen?” She looked back at Matthew.
André glared at his father. Stop! he silently demanded.
Matthew glanced directly at him. “You’re fired,” he said.
“Dad, you can’t fire her,” André argued.
“I’m not. I’m firing you.”
André’s mouth dropped. Of all the responses he expected, this wasn’t one of them. He blinked and closed his mouth. The dull throb of anger colored his vision and he closed his eyes and clenched his fists. Before he acted on the irrational emotion overtaking him, he stormed out of the room and continued right out of the building without looking back.
15
André lumbered down the road, his head down and his hands shoved in his pockets. How am I going to explain this to Kat?
Hands yanked him into a hovercraft and threw him on the floor, the door shutting behind him before he got his bearings and looked around at his abductors.
Anna laughed. “Think you can get away from me that easily?” she asked. “Go!” she yelled at Amanda.
Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 112