Entwined

by Kat Catesby

  “I get that, but it’s not like they had to watch it the first time,” his tone is grim.

  “They want me in the Corps, which is the easier of yesterday’s consequences to deal with as I was already contemplating joining,” I say, lighter than I feel.

  “That puts you on the West Coast. I thought you’d be going straight into business with your dad?” I can hear an edge of panic in his otherwise perfect voice.

  “I’m guessing that means you’re tied to business on the East Coast for a while?”

  I look at Dee, not able to hide my disappointment; I’d obviously become attached to her idea that maybe he’d join us in San Francisco.

  “For the most part, FireStorm runs itself with the team of executives I have in place, but I am CEO and that doesn’t stop even when I’m studying. There are certain things that only I can do and I need to invest some time in being physically present.

  “Stay, Emilia. I know you probably don’t want to work for your dad, if yesterday was as bad as you say, but stay and work with me. Please don’t run off and join the Corps,” he insists.

  “I can’t tell you how badly I want to do that, but I need space from my parents; yesterday was ugly and it would probably be good for me to put some distance between me and my parents for a while. Staying in New York and working for a company that isn’t my dad’s is probably a terrible idea. I was able to negotiate them dropping the security detail and getting my mom into therapy, but I had to agree to join the Corps and…give you up. They took my phone, the note that you wrote your number on, everything. That’s why I couldn’t call you. That’s why we drove up here,” my voice breaks and tears threaten at Jackson’s increasingly stony expression.

  He holds me at arm’s length, denying me the warmth of his strong body.

  “I am not just leverage, Emilia,” he bites out.

  “She needs help, Jackson, and I didn’t know how else to make her see reason,” I plead.

  “You really aren’t the woman I fell in love with if all you see me as is some tool to negotiate with. Your father will be so proud; with skills like that I’m sure you’ll be an asset when you join Stellar,” he shouts. I can’t stop the tears freefalling down my cheeks.

  “Hey, it wasn’t like that one bit,” shouts Dee. “Her mom’s insecurities are ruining Emilia’s relationship with them. It’s suffocating her and there’s no way in hell they’ll allow you both to be together, even in secret, if she’s still being tailed by a security team passing her parents hourly fucking updates. Emilia said what she did to get her mom help, to stop them from controlling her life, and it’s not a bad idea that you both wait until she’s immortal.”

  “I can protect her!” he yells. “They’re grown people. Emilia shouldn’t be negotiating away parts of her life to take care of them and she doesn’t need them in her life if all they’re going to do is fucking control it. She’s choosing to run – again – because it’s the easier option.”

  “I do need them in my life and I want them in my life, just like I want you. Why else do you think I’m here?” This really isn’t going how I imagined.

  “I’ve watched you die. I’ve watched you run out of fear, but I will not watch you leave me again because it’s easier than fighting for a life with me. Go to San Francisco, I won’t be here waiting for you…if you leave, I’m done with you,” he says coldly.

  This has the opposite reaction to what I imagine he intended.

  My tears stop almost instantly, my back goes rigid and I square my shoulders; I hate ultimatums. And I am done with being manipulated and controlled.

  He just found the sure-fire way to get me from heartbroken to furious in a nanosecond.

  I push him away so that he’s no longer touching me and all my anger from the last few days, every emotion that I’ve tried to control and keep calm, explodes from depths of my soul.

  Considering he’s spent over a century in love with me, you’d think he would be above emotionally blackmailing me; apparently not. Apparently, he’s stupid enough to think that will work, when at this moment in time, I don’t remember my life with him and although my feelings for him are intense, I’m not in love. I could’ve been, quite easily, but he’s ruined it. Every hopeful emotion I had for a loving future with him is now twisted, black and bitter.

  “Here’s something you may not know about this new version of me; I hate ultimatums. Are you really stupid enough to demand I choose between you and my parents? You said that I’m not the woman you fell in love with, well you’re right about that. I’m not her and I’m sick of you holding me to the same impossible standard. I refuse to live the shadow of a woman I don’t remember. I am done with my parents dictating how I live my new life and you constantly comparing me to my old one. This is me now. These are my choices and you can all either get on board and support me or get out. My life doesn’t have space in it for people who aren’t on my side.

  “You seem to forget that I don’t know you, and you’re obviously so wrapped up in memories of our old life that you don’t know me either. And I’m not going to pick a stranger over my parents. I am choosing the Corps because I want to…my choice; not my parents and not yours. I want that adventure just as I want my parents and you…but these things have to be on my terms. I am not running away from you or my parents; I am choosing a career that gives me the freedom I’ve been denied. It doesn’t mean I don’t want you, even after your dick move of emotional blackmail. I am making a choice for me and when, or if, you decide you can live with that, you know where I’ll be.”

  I turn away from him and his stunned silence and walk back towards the car. Dee follows once she’s picked her jaw up off the floor, Jackson doesn’t.

  He doesn’t reach for me.

  He doesn’t call my name.

  He does nothing.

  My disappointment hits an all-time low when I find a black SUV parked next to Dee’s convertible and Tristan leaning against the hood.

  Great.

  “I figured I knew you two well enough to know you’d pull something like this,” he says gruffly.

  “So how hysterical was my mom when you told her we’d gone?” I ask sourly.

  “She doesn’t know and I won’t be telling her. You had a point, Em. We haven’t been fair to you and for my part in that I’m sorry. I can’t promise I won’t do it again if I’m ordered to by my employer, but despite what you might think of me, I do care about you. That’s why I followed you both and it’s also why I’m not informing your parents. I will contact Matron Price and tell her that we are out together having breakfast and trying to mend bridges or something. That way she won’t get suspicious over your absence.”

  “You have our backs?” Dee asks, her disbelief clear.

  “I do,” he says simply.

  Chapter Sixteen

  SIX YEARS LATER

  My heart beats rapidly in the darkness of the new apartment I share with Dee and Alex, my breathing struggling to even out after yet another Jackson-induced dream.

  I get up from my vast and empty bed and open my sizeable, but mostly empty, walk-in closet. Hidden on one of my highest shelves at the back is Jackson’s stolen sweater. The smell of him disappeared years ago, but I still seek comfort from the soft, oversized garment when I have trouble sleeping.

  I don’t sleep well because even after all these years, I’m still thinking about Jackson and the irony is that it’s only when I put his clothes on that I actually get some peaceful sleep.

  He could also give me the fucking of my life – I’m sure that would send me to sleep.

  I roughly pull the sweater over my head roughly, fucking exhausted from never having my head to myself…of always sharing it with thoughts of him.

  Dee and Alex are right; I need serious help as far as Jackson is concerned. But deep down I know that the only person who can help me with my Jackson obsession is Jackson himself. Since he’s never reached out or tried to make contact with me once over the past six years, I think it’s
safe to say that our ship has sailed.

  I half expected Jackson to stop us from driving away the last time I saw him, or that he would have tracked me down at some point; he’s a man of means, so it wouldn’t have been hard. But for the six years we spent in the Corps, all I got was radio silence.

  It upset me a lot in the beginning; knowing that I hurt him so deeply and that he was so angry he didn’t want to talk or see me. I can’t describe how painful the ache in my chest was…is…still.

  He was right; hurting him meant hurting me…and it really fucking hurt.

  Dee was close to calling my parents, or Tristan at the very least, a couple of times until I figured out how to deal with it and move on.

  And as far as the outside world is concerned, Jackson Smoak is just a painful memory I’m over. There are only two people who know otherwise.

  Dee and Alex saw me at my lowest and the fact that I still dream about Jackson is nothing compared to that, so, for the most part, they aren’t too concerned about my emotional wellbeing.

  They live in hope that eventually I’ll meet someone I like enough to not dump within a month. It’s not that I don’t like any of them, it’s just I know by that point whether or not I’m going to fall for them. The answer is always not. Jackson has ruined me for all other men and I hate admitting that, because where does that leave me? Pining after a man who doesn’t acknowledge my existence anymore?

  No thanks.

  I kept telling myself my obsession is purely the result of him being the one that got away, but I’m increasingly concerned I’m not even convincing myself anymore.

  I lay in bed until dawn breaks over the horizon, the pale light filtering into my room. Giving up on the idea of sleep, I wander down the hall to the open plan living area of our Upper East Side apartment.

  Therapy worked out well for my parents and we now have a happier, more relaxed relationship. It took time and a lot of work to rebuild the trust, but we made it, and to the point my mom felt brave enough to insist on buying this apartment for Dee, Alex and me when we made the decision to leave the Corps.

  I didn’t love the idea, but my parents are lucky to have more money than they know how to spend, plus Dee and Alex love it here, so I was quickly outnumbered.

  I’m genuinely grateful for their generosity - even if it is wildly excessive for three former Corps Operatives who are used to roughing it and can spot all of the ‘covert’ security measures hidden around the building.

  I flop down on our large, L-shape sofa facing one of the floor-to-ceiling windows and watch the sun creep higher into the dawn sky. I’m not alone for long as Alex practically sleepwalks towards me wearing a crumpled t-shirt and boxers and collapses onto a cushion next to me, his dark hair skewed where he’s slept on it.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Nah,” he yawns, “I was going to go for a run.”

  “Dee still asleep?”

  “Of course. You know it takes a nuclear explosion to wake her.”

  I think back to all the times Alex and I had to practically shoot her to wake her while on night duties and smile; some things are always reassuringly the same.

  Dee and I met Alex in San Francisco. He was in our intake squad and we took to him instantly – thanks in large part to the attraction between him and Dee. It took them a couple of years to do anything about it, but now they’re a couple and thankfully, it hasn’t altered the dynamic of our friendships; they simply added sex to their equation.

  Alex is an easy-going soul; tall, strong and with a wickedly inappropriate sense of humor that makes my sides hurt with laughter. I’ve always felt comfortable around him, even with bed-head, un-brushed teeth and wearing nothing but my underwear – and that was before all the time we spent in the field. Hell, by the end of our first week of training we had all seen each other naked. With the jobs we had, there weren’t many boundaries left between any of us.

  Alex and I have always been completely platonic – it’s what I love most about our relationship; I can look at him and appreciate his hotness but honestly not feel an ounce of attraction toward him. We have zero sexual chemistry and it’s fucking awesome; he’s the brother I never had.

  “We have that charity gala tonight,” I remind him. My parents are looking forward to showing the three of us off, now that we’ve moved back to New York...sadly, I don’t have the same enthusiasm; I anticipate it will be deathly dull.

  “Does that mean you and Dee are heading off to a spa for ‘girl time’?”

  I groan internally.

  “Sadly so. My mom is insisting on it.”

  It’s not that Dee and I don’t like getting dressed up, but we’ve just spent six years being the Guardian trio of choice for some of the most intense operations, which didn’t really leave us a lot of time for mani-pedis and massages.

  Alex has an enhanced ability like Dee and me; he can teleport himself and whatever he’s touching to wherever he wants to go. If he’s only transporting himself, he can ‘jump’ clear across several states, if he’s holding onto Dee and me then it’s only a couple of blocks.

  There was one particularly frightening situation that required him to jump us both across an entire city to safety, but that was a one-off and took a lot out of him. Jumping is a last resort as it’s a serious energy deprecator.

  Given Alex’s talent, Dee’s ability to conceal us with her invisibility trick and my telekinesis, we made a formidable unit, especially as Dee mastered how to maintain her invisibility bubble for extended periods of time.

  My telekinesis developed to the level that I can knock my adversaries over with short shockwaves and move large objects. Being able to truly levitate, however, hovers just out of reach.

  “You have another dream?” Dee asks as she emerges from the hallway in a sleep-disheveled state.

  There are only two reasons I’m ever awake before the sun; either I’ve been ordered to, or I’ve dreamt about Jackson. Dee knows this and because we’re no longer in the Corps, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why I’m up. Alex knows this as well, but he’s too diplomatic to bring up my obsession with my ex-lover unless he has backup from Dee.

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “Well, you are wearing his sweater again,” she retorts.

  I arch a brow at her, “Well it was a damn good dream.”

  “I don’t doubt it; it’s been a while since you’ve had any, after all. You know, I did hear that Tristan is single again and he’s only getting finer with age…”

  Dee forgot about her crush on Tristan almost the moment she laid eyes on Alex and instead focuses on trying to hook me up with him…or any guy that looks at me if we’re being honest.

  Philips retired not long after our move to San Francisco and Tristan became the head of security for my parents so everywhere they went, he followed. It had been easier than I thought it would be to get over my issues with him, especially after he kept his word to have my back and even went as far as to fight my cause on the few occasions he thought my parents were being unreasonable.

  It didn’t mean I was attracted to him.

  Well, that was sort of a lie. Now he’s not my bodyguard, I can look at him objectively and see what Dee had seen all along; Tristan is hot, in an unassuming, surprising way. Now that his overbearing protectiveness is directed at my parents, his quiet, self-assured, lethal strength is pretty damn sexy. A fact I was stupid enough to let slip once, which green-lit Dee’s compulsive cupid disorder.

  Tristan has this worldly, rugged persona that combined with a body he keeps in prime condition, leads your imagination astray; the man looks like he has skills where it counts. But that’s the problem – I don’t want anything more from him other than an amazing fuck. I respect him too much to ever make a play for something that could cost him his job though, and I’m not attracted to him enough to want anything substantial with him.

  “Age is the problem though, remember?”

  “But we’re older now. An eleven-year age
gap is hardly a deal-breaker.”

  I look at Alex who rolls his eyes; she’s completely missed the point.

  “We stopped aging at what, twenty-three/twenty-four years old? And Tristan’s kept on aging; what was an eleven-year age gap is now more like sixteen years,” Alex explains slowly.

  “He’s going to keep getting older until he dies, Dee, and I’m going to stay the same. You guys are lucky; both your parents are immortal and you’ve fallen in love with another supernatural. You’ll never have to bury anyone. My parents will die and it’s going to be really tough, so I’m in no rush to fall in love with a human I’ll outlive and by the end, would look more like their grandkid instead of their wife. Tristan and I are a non-starter. Please don’t make any of your not-so-subtle-sex-hints when he picks us up later,” I plead.

  “Okay,” she surrenders. “You do know that we’ll never let you go through any of that alone right?” she asks tenderly.

  “Of course. I won’t let either of you back out even if you tried,” I joke to lighten the mood. I don’t like thinking about the inevitability of my parents’ passing. “And if you insist on trying to set me up then keep it to supernaturals only.”

  Dee salutes and smirks as she heads into our sleek new kitchen to locate coffee.

  “Bit of a tough assignment though, given that you’re already in love with an immortal. Perhaps you should call him?” she suggests all too innocently.

  Only Dee is brave enough to use Jackson to poke fun at me, and these reminders that she doesn’t walk on eggshells around me makes me value her that much more.

  “I don’t have his number,” I say, playing along.

  “I doubt it would be too hard to track down the super-rich, high-profile owner of FireStorm. Google would probably give you his property portfolio and you can stalk him from there. Or we can call some of our contacts to see what they can dig up.” she’s all sarcasm and sweetness.

  In truth, I won’t need either of those options if my suspicions are correct; super-rich, high-profile CEO’s tent to frequent glittering charity gala’s…much like the one I’m being forced to attend.