by Anise Eden
Once we were alone in the room, our tension slowly began to ebb. I pulled the room service cart over to the mini-living room and convinced Ben to have some dinner.
Skeet certainly hadn’t spared any expense. It was surf and turf with filet mignon, crab cakes, and scallops, not to mention an assortment of vegetables and breads with two kinds of soup. After about ten minutes, Ben started to look a little better, relaxing and giving me a genuine smile. “He may be crooked, but I’ve got to give it to Skeet—he knows good food.”
My shoulders dropped with relief, and I smiled back. “He does, that.”
We finished the meal mostly in silence, only talking to request the butter or salt. I guessed that neither of us wanted to talk about the immediate concern, which was Ben’s injury. After dinner, Ben managed to get up off the couch without any assistance. I wasn’t sure if it would help or hurt for me to say it, but I couldn’t stop myself. I went over and took him by the hands, gave him the brightest smile I could muster, and said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”
Ben’s expression softened, and he pulled me into a tight embrace. I slid my arms around his waist and squeezed, needing to feel his body against mine like I’d need water in the desert.
I could have stood there like that forever, but I remembered that Pete had wanted Ben to rest. “I’m kind of worn out after that meal,” I said. “What do you say we go over to the bed and play cards?”
I should have known Ben would immediately grasp the real motive behind my suggestion. “I’m okay, Cate. Really. But if it will make you feel better if I lie down, and you want to play cards, and you don’t mind losing—then I’m game.”
The daring grin he gave me made me want to throw him down on the bed and kiss him until all of our clothes came off. It also inspired an overwhelming urge in me to find whoever had shot him and mete out some kind of draconian justice.
Even though I picked Rummy 500, my best card game, Ben made good on his promise. I was just starting to get tired of losing all the time when there was a knock at the door. Pete led the rest of the MacGregor Group into the room for our nightly meeting.
First, there was a lot of teasing about the paintball game. Kai and Eve gloated shamelessly, and Pete accused Ben of getting injured on purpose to distract the Blue Team and secure a pity win for the Reds. Everyone wanted to see the bump on Ben’s head. He reluctantly complied, which led to much ribbing of Vani for claiming earlier that she’d had a headache (which had magically disappeared right before dinner). When we ran out of things to say, everyone settled into a seat. Clearly unused to being fussed over, Ben awkwardly thanked everyone for their concern, reassuring us that he was fine.
Meanwhile, Pete told us about a call he’d received from Max with more information on Congressman Paul Tucker and Mr. Bertie Hencock. Apparently, both men were Washington fixtures known for quietly making deals while keeping out of the spotlight and away from scandals. Max had also found out about Mercier’s other owners. They were all movers and shakers of various types, headquartered in the D.C. area. Congressman Tucker was on the Ways and Means Committee, and they had a Senator on the Foreign Relations Committee. There was also a high-powered lobbyist for the IT industry, someone at the Federal Reserve, the owner of a private security firm staffed by former military, and two think tank types who were connected to politically oriented private foundations. All had indeed been members of the same fraternity in college, and Tucker had been their president. But according to Max, it wasn’t an officially recognized fraternity—more of a secret society that had since been banned from campus for reasons unknown.
After Pete finished, Eve cleared her throat. “So, while we’re sharing information, I don’t know if this means anything or not, but while Asa was talking to the front desk, I saw Michael duck into the nook of one of those wide hallways. I followed him and hid behind a tree-pillar. Then another man joined him, and I heard Michael call the man ‘Hencock.’ They started talking really low. Eventually they shook hands and took off in opposite directions.”
We discussed the possibilities. It seemed odd that Michael and Hencock would be so familiar with one another. On the other hand, if they’d both spent a lot of time at the lodge, maybe they’d become friends. But since Hencock had spoken derisively about Skeet’s “so-called research subjects” when I’d overheard him in the field, I didn’t imagine he held Michael in very high regard. Hencock had also expressed concern about Ben being at the lodge. And what was the handshake for? Had Hencock put Michael up to shooting Ben with the paintball?
“Whatever the answer to that question may be,” Ben said, “in light of the paintball incident today, let me be clear: anyone who wants to leave—now, or at anytime, for any reason—has my blessing. No questions asked.”
There was absolute silence. Eve and Asa looked off into the distance as Vani contemplated her fingernails.
“I can’t say for sure,” Pete said in his slow drawl, “but I think that means they’re stayin’.”
I could see from Ben’s clenched jaw that it was taking a great deal of effort for him to refrain from ordering everyone to go home immediately. “Okay, then. As long as we’re here, we stick to our safety protocol. No exceptions.”
With those two final words, Ben gave me a meaningful look. I suppressed a smirk.
“Thanks, everybody,” Ben said. “I know this situation is strange…”
Asa guffawed. “Please, we’re used to strange. We were born strange.”
At that, everyone smiled, if uneasily.
“Well, I still appreciate your willingness to help out. Tomorrow we’ll see this demonstration by Team Forward. That should answer a lot of our questions. In the meantime, get some rest.”
As everyone said their goodnights and filed out the door, I saw Ben pull Kai aside. Their expressions were grim as they exchanged a few words. Then everyone was gone, leaving Ben and me alone in my room again—this time with the addition of a cot and his bags. Ben sat on the couch and gingerly touched the swelling on his head.
I sat on the chair nearest to him. “You okay?”
“Hmm? Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” He forced a smile. “Pete finally gave me the okay to go to sleep for the night, though, so—problem solved.”
“Good.” I tried to smile back. “I’m impressed that you’re letting everyone stay.”
“That’s because I’m experimenting.”
“With what?”
He took my hand in his. “With that thing you wanted me to try—what was it? Letting people take more responsibility for themselves, instead of taking everything on myself?”
A rush of warmth melted my insides. I’d thought those words had fallen on deaf ears. But Ben had listened to me; he was even trying something new at my suggestion. “I’m impressed. You’ve assembled a pretty incredible group of people, here. They won’t disappoint you.”
“Well, don’t get too excited. If the experiment goes badly, I’m going right back to the way I’m used to doing things.”
“It won’t go badly.” I squeezed his hand. “What were you talking to Kai about, anyway?”
“In case things go sideways, I want him to be ready to take Vani, Eve, and Asa out of here at a moment’s notice.”
So Ben hadn’t fully abandoned his way of doing things, after all. “I bet he wasn’t happy about that. I imagine he wouldn’t want to leave Pete.”
“No, but he understood. He wants to keep those three safe, and they listen to him. He knows Pete can take care of himself.”
“What about me?” I asked, surprised that Ben hadn’t included me in the list of Kai’s potential evacuees.
“If you’re in danger, I’ll get you out of here.”
I smirked. “You trust Kai to take care of the others, but not me?”
“I trust Kai to take care of you,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I can’t be sure you’d go along with Kai without giving him any problems, and that could cause dangerous delays.”
Well, hell, I thou
ght. That didn’t sound very complimentary, but he was probably right. I wouldn’t go willingly with Kai if it meant leaving Ben behind. Kai might trust Pete to take care of himself, and intellectually I knew that Ben could do the same. But my heart…well, that was another matter. “I’m glad you realize I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Ben gave me a wry half-smile. “I did pick up on that, yes.” Then he began to tug at the corner of his shirt. “I’m beat, Cate. I hope you don’t mind if I just hit the sack.”
“No, of course not.” I’d never seen Ben look so worn out. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. I tried to busy myself, getting a few things out of my bags, so I wouldn’t stare as Ben stripped down to his boxers.
He lay sideways on the cot and faced the wall. “Goodnight, Cate,” he murmured.
“Wait,” I objected, “you should take the bed! I’ll take the cot.”
“I’m already asleep,” he murmured.
“But Ben—”
He made a loud, fake snoring sound.
“Fine,” I said with a heavy sigh. “Goodnight.”
Even though I knew he wouldn’t turn around and look, I was gripped by a sudden sense of propriety. I grabbed my pajamas and went into the bathroom to change.
Chapter Fifteen
In my dream, Mom and I were on the Delaware beach, enjoying the mid-morning sun. We lay on towels under our umbrella with a cooler of sodas and a box of saltwater taffy positioned between us. Both of us wore sunglasses and were reading books in our bathing suits, trying to absorb as much vitamin D as possible without burning. It was just warm enough that we felt sun-kissed, but a nice breeze kept the heat from becoming sweltering. It must have been a weekday, because there weren’t many other people there, just some couples walking along the sand and a few kids squealing as they jumped in and out of the foam left behind by the waves.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a group of three men who looked to be in their mid-twenties kicking a soccer ball down the beach. They were athletic and tanned, as though they’d spent the whole summer doing nothing else. They stopped in front of the spot where my mother and I were sunbathing and formed a triangle, making a game of trying to keep the ball from touching the ground.
“I think they’re trying to impress you,” Mom murmured.
“How do you know they’re not trying to impress you?” I countered. My mother was older than they were, but she had a natural beauty that had only deepened with time.
“Please, Miss Monroe,” she teased, “with your figure, I’m surprised they’re able to concentrate on their game at all.”
“When was the last time you had your eyes checked?” I asked dryly.
Mom laughed, and the sound was light and musical. “Cheeky. You’re gorgeous and you know it.”
I most certainly did not know it. I’d never felt completely comfortable in my body, which stayed soft no matter how hard I worked to tone it up.
“Ben certainly can’t keep his eyes off of you—or his hands, from what I’ve seen. He’s always finding some excuse to hold your hand or put his arm around your waist.”
Oh, I thought, so this isn’t just an ordinary dream. Mom’s spirit is visiting me in the present—otherwise she wouldn’t have mentioned Ben. I said a silent prayer of gratitude. Maybe I could ask her some questions.
“So, Mom,” I asked, trying to sound casual. “How does this double kheir thing work, anyway?”
She reached over and slapped me lightly on the arm, laughing again. “You know I can’t do your homework for you. There are some things you have to figure out yourselves. Otherwise, there would be no mystery, no challenge!”
Clearly I wasn’t going to get any help from her. I was gearing up to ask about my father when we heard a frantic scream. The soccer players froze for a second. Then all three of them ran at full speed toward the ocean. Mom and I scrambled to our feet as the men ran and leapt through the waves until they reached a woman. She cried out desperately as she plunged her arms down into the water, over and over again.
The scene seemed to play out in slow motion. We watched as the men dove down into the water a few times. Finally, one of them came back up, holding a listless child in his arms. The whole group rushed as quickly as they could back to the beach, and the man laid the child down on his back. We went over to see what was happening. The child looked to be about six, and he didn’t appear to be breathing.
Whistles blew shrilly. A lifeguard arrived. He checked the child for a pulse, tilted his head back, and swept his mouth with a finger before starting CPR. I became aware that my whole body was trembling when I felt Mom’s arms around me. Tears flowed down both of our faces, as well as those of many who had gathered.
We stood in silence as the lifeguard did his work, and two more lifeguards arrived to assist. It felt like whole hours were crawling by, days, months… Finally, the child coughed violently, expelling an impossible volume of water as the lifeguards turned him on his side. The mother wailed, and two of the soccer players held onto her, lowering her gently to her knees. After a few moments, the child was sitting up, nodding and shaking his head in answer to their questions as his mother wrapped herself around him. Those of us who had gathered around sighed in relief as though we were one being, physically connected to this boy and his mother. The lifeguards spoke to the mother as they wrapped the boy in blankets. Then they had him lie down on the stretcher they’d brought.
My mother and I clung to each other—both still crying, me still trembling. The beach scene began to swirl around us as though we were standing in the middle of a turntable, and everyone else was on the surface of a vinyl record that began spinning faster and faster. “It’s okay,” Mom whispered. “He’ll be okay.”
All at once, my vision went black, and the dream was gone—the beach, the people—Mom. All gone. My eyes flew open, and I found that I was sitting bolt upright in my bed at the lodge, drenched in perspiration. I touched my cheeks; they were soaked with tears. What in the heck kind of dream was that? I immediately thought, Is Ben okay? Was the dream some kind of warning? Was his head injury worse than Pete had thought?
My heart kicked against my chest like someone buried alive trying to break out of their coffin. As quickly and quietly as I could, I scrambled out of the bed and stepped close to Ben’s cot. He was lying on his back. I watched his chest to see if it was rising and falling with breath, but the room was too dark. I couldn’t see a thing. I wanted to press my fingertips to his neck and find a pulse, but I knew how badly he needed sleep, and I didn’t want to wake him. Besides, if he was fine, how much of a basket case would I look like? I grabbed my purse from the bedside table and took out my cell phone and compact mirror. Then I scrambled back to Ben, kneeling next to the cot. Turning my phone on for ambient light, I opened the compact and carefully lowered it beneath his nose—then swallowed a cry of relief when his breath fogged the mirror.
Quietly, I closed the compact, turned off the phone, and slid them to one side as I dropped cross-legged onto the floor. I held my head in my hands, realizing that I was trembling, just as I had been in the dream. “He’s okay, he’s okay,” I whispered to myself, swallowing down the sobs rising in my throat.
Ben’s rich voice vibrated through the air and touched me like a divine reprieve. “Cate?”
“Yes,” I managed to whisper.
He shifted onto his side. Dark as it was, I could feel his eyes on me. “What are you doing?”
I scooted closer and leaned my head against the side of the mattress. “Checking to make sure you’re still breathing.”
“Oh,” he said casually, as though that weren’t a totally crazy thing to be doing. “Well, I am.”
“Yeah, I figured that out,” I said. A light laugh escaped me as I realized the absurdity of the situation.
He rested his hand gently on my head. “I’m not planning to stop, either, if that helps at all.”
“Yeah, well.” I reached up and gripped the fra
me of the cot. “You weren’t planning on getting shot in the head, either, but that happened.”
“True,” he said thoughtfully. “But only with a paintball.”
I sighed as he began stroking my hair, soothing my jangled nerves. “Your point being?”
“My point being that it’s extremely rare to stop breathing because of a paintball injury.”
Was that actually supposed to make me feel better? All of the worries I’d had about Ben from the drugging and the paintball incident mixed with my fear from the dream, triggering an explosion of emotion inside of me. I pulled my head away from beneath his hand and turned to face him. “Well, you’ll have to forgive me for being less than comforted by that statistic! I mean, it’s extremely rare for me to fall in love, but that’s obviously happened, too, so ‘extremely rare’ clearly doesn’t mean ‘impossible.’ And when it comes to worrying about whether you’ve stopped breathing, ‘impossible’ is the only standard I’m comfortable with! Understood?”
Ben’s face was entirely in shadow. There was a long pause, during which I replayed what I’d just said in my head. Oh my god, I thought as my hand flew up to cover my mouth. Had I just admitted… Had I really just said…?
The previous week, Ben had given me a miracle—he had told me for the first time that he was in love with me. But I hadn’t been ready to say it back, and he had been so understanding, seemed so unconcerned. Now, without intending to, I had told him that I felt the same. It had just slipped out, and maybe because of that, there could be no question in either of our minds that it was true.
Slowly and deliberately, Ben pulled off his blanket, sat up, and planted his feet on the floor. Then he leaned down and cupped my cheeks in his hands. I still couldn’t see his expression, but I could feel his eyes searching mine, feel the pressure of his energy as it surrounded me. Finally, in a voice rough with feeling, he said, “Understood.”
I inhaled sharply as he lowered his face towards mine, pausing just long enough for us to look at one another as our eyes adjusted to the dark. He kissed me gently at first, over and over again, until I was straining towards him. Then his mouth pressed against mine with urgency and his tongue forged its way between my lips, plunging in desperately, like he was a man returning home from a long and brutal war. As though I was floating, I rose up on my knees, answering his kiss with intense yearning, as though I’d been awaiting his return. Involuntary, primal sounds rose into my throat, and Ben took them into his body as though they infused him with life.