“How about I stalk back down that corridor and finally do what I should have done weeks ago when I had the chance on the destroyer, and fucking castrate that son of a bitch?” I suggested, only half joking.
Nate snorted, that wry kind of amusement exactly the reaction I had been going for—but didn’t offer up anything else. When I raised my brows at him a few seconds later, he finally deigned to answer me. “I can’t find it in me to tell you not to go for it,” he offered, but talked right over me when I tried to interject. “But—and I don’t have to tell you that—I don’t think it would be wise.”
“When have I ever done the wise thing?”
Another amused sound left him. “You’re usually smarter with the big decisions that could end your life within seconds.”
“It won’t kill him,” I reasoned. “And you heard what Elle said. Her doc’s terribly bored at the moment. With her on standby, they’d have a tourniquet tied within seconds and have patched him up in under half an hour. Judging from my own experience, he’d bounce back within a day or two if he didn’t lose too much blood.”
“I love how reasonable you can sound sometimes,” Nate wryly surmised.
I left it at a bright, albeit fake, grin before I made myself back off the warpath. He was right. It wasn’t Bucky who I was concerned about, but his men. I hadn’t just spent half a day slaughtering zombies to show them how much I was one of them only to turn all that around for a moment of endless satisfaction. Even though I really wanted to, with my mind, body, and soul. That realization scared me—and it wasn’t the only one. It was easier to close the lid on the roiling pot of anger now than it had been back when I’d almost lost it after my fight with Hamilton, but it wasn’t easy. Damn fucking hard was more like it.
“Exactly how much is that serum screwing with my impulse control?” I more mused than asked, but the knowing look on Nate’s face told me he had an answer for that. “And I’m way too trusting toward the French. I can’t remember the last time I just waltzed into anywhere and didn’t feel like I constantly needed to watch my back.” And my, didn’t the idea of something screwing with my brain on a more permanent level than those booster shots make me really, really happy.
Nate’s mouth took on a wry twist. “You can’t completely take a soldier’s fear away and still expect him to perform at top-notch level. But you can make him feel invincible once he’s overcome that initial bout of fear.”
My mind skipped over several options until it settled on the most obvious—and quite disturbing—one.
“Does that shit affect my amygdala?”
He shrugged. “You read the documentation on the project.”
“Yes, the genetic side of it,” I grumbled. “They didn’t include a ‘this is you now’ instruction sheet.”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Nate offered. “But it’s been known to happen that a lot of us are more prone to take risks and head into certain danger without a second thought. Seeing as that’s usually your MO, anyway…”
He trailed off with a smile when I made a face. “That explains why I thought it was a good idea to go zombie slaughtering. Not why I feel like Elle’s my best friend.”
“I think you’re mostly projecting on her because you spent almost a month in what you perceive as the most hostile environment known to man—men. And your mind might still be basking in the afterglow of one hell of an adrenaline rush. Hence your need to also tear my clothes off.”
“That’s not always connected,” I harped.
“Experience says otherwise,” Nate succinctly provided.
Okay, maybe he had a point there. “I’ve never heard you complain about it.”
“Far be it from me,” he offered, but the following pause was quite the sobering one. “I’m not one hundred percent sure about the trust thing, but it’s likely your subconscious knowing that you’re an apex predator now.” At my confused look, he smacked his lips. “You may still be somewhat off because of your injuries, but what you did today down in that valley was beyond what you could have done at the bat of an eyelash two months ago.”
I felt like that was pushing it, but I got his point. “So what you’re saying is that, deep down, my mind knows I’m awesome.” I got a blank stare back, making me laugh. “Oh, come on! Would it really kill you to, this once only, admit that I’m amazing?”
“I’m more concerned about what it would do to your ego,” he snarked.
“Seeing as survival means modeling myself after you, overinflation might be an issue,” I shot back.
The smile Nate had been fighting finally broke through, and he leaned in for a second to push his forehead against mine, making us share a breath. “You should stop constantly seeking my—or anyone else’s—approval.”
“Not seeking anything,” I claimed, although it wasn’t entirely true. “I just want my husband to admit that I’m a good catch.”
The pause on his side that followed was downright insulting, but finally, he folded, mirth lighting up his eyes. “You’re awesome. Happy now?”
The way he was looking at me made me chuckle, and I did as much of a victory dance as possible, which wasn’t a lot seeing as I was still pretty much trapped between his body and the door.
“It was the ‘awesome’ part that hurt, right? You could have just said amazing. Or wonderful. Spectacular. Unsurpassable.”
“Are you done yet?” he grated, pulling away to create enough space between us so he could properly glower down at me. Like I gave a fuck. As much as I wanted to continue goofing off—and loving that I felt both physically and mentally up to it once more—we still had a mile to go before we were done.
“Why didn’t you tell me what was going on with you?” I asked, trying very hard not to sound as disappointed as I felt at him not letting me know that, well, he was having some issues as well. And I wasn’t even talking about the currently impacting physical limitations that was causing.
Nate gave that some thought, but his gaze never wavered from mine. “And when, exactly, should I have done that? When I was halfway convinced you wouldn’t live through the night? Or when it took all the strength you had left to heave yourself onto unstable feet? When you were so weak that hobbling around was all you could do? When you finally started to recover but it took everything you had not to scream your head off at your own reflection? You had a lot of shit to deal with that was way more important than my shit. I’m smarter than adding to it when you’re just barely hanging on as it is.” He paused, then spilled the rest of the beans. “I know you’re doing a damn good job convincing yourself that you don’t hold any of that against me, but I do. Rationally, I know it’s not my fault. But that doesn’t change a thing about the memories that haunt me. I couldn’t put this burden on you while you were still recovering.”
“What changed your mind? Besides obvious necessity, I mean.”
A hint of annoyance crossed his features. Obviously, I’d used up all the goodwill he’d allowed for because I couldn’t handle shit.
“You got better. And watching you down there today, moving with strength and stamina you’ve never had before, was glorious.”
“Ha, I knew it! You only stayed back so you could watch my scrawny ass!”
Nate chuckled softly at my triumphant crow. “And someone had to keep the undead at bay while you idiots took forever to get to the French,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, I guess our grand gesture wouldn’t have been so useful if they’d gotten eaten in the meantime.”
Silence fell, both of us considering. I could almost see the gears grinding in his mind, and I didn’t like how he started to tense, ready to pull away—emotionally and physically. This was not how I was going to let my first—and maybe only—chance for us to have some alone time go down.
“So, what are we going to do about this situation?” Withdrawing my right hand, I poked his stomach, trying to be at least a little circumspect. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but when I pulled you in here, you weren’t
exactly opposed to bumping uglies with me. And while not quite there yet, you were definitely getting there. Until, you know, your mind started getting in the way.”
I got a wry, if somewhat sad, grin back. “How many times do I need to tell you that I get off on getting you off?”
“You do love rubbing it in my face that you’re quite proficient in said aspect,” I groused, then flashed him a bright grin. “What are you waiting for? Worst that can happen is I get off. I think I can deal with that.”
Nate went as far as rolling his eyes heavenward in a silent, “What did I do to deserve this burden?” if there ever was one but didn’t resist when I grabbed his head to pull his mouth down to mine—and then, with determination, grabbed his hands and put them on more interesting places than my cheek. He knew what to do, and thankfully did rather than continue our conversation. I may have exaggerated my reactions just a bit, but within minutes, that wasn’t exactly necessary anymore. Lo and behold, when my hand traveled southward once more, things were looking a lot better. Better still after some well-meaning manipulation. And absolutely great when he picked me up and hauled me over to an abandoned workbench that was close to the perfect height for all things involving bad lighting and the odd giggle in between. If it took a little more time than our usual record-setting be-done-before-the-zombie-eats-us thing, I so wasn’t going to complain.
It must have been close to the allotted time Elle had promised she could get me that found us both panting heavily, sweating somewhat profusely, and equally less wound up than when we’d entered the room. I couldn’t wipe off the stupid grin that had taken hold of me and didn’t even try. “You could have told me that this is another unexpected side effect of the serum,” I prompted, having to stop halfway through the sentence to catch my breath. My, but I might even be a little sore later—ignoring all the scars and bruises and whatnot that had built up too much of a background noise to ignore, even when I was feeling thoroughly… satisfied.
Nate snorted as he stepped away to look for something to clean up with, but I didn’t miss that small smile that he was trying to hide. Three, two, one—scathing remark about to come. “And have you hound me about not getting you shot up over a year ago? Fat chance.” Seeing as there were only oil- and grease-stained rags to be found, I pelted him with my thick thermal to use instead. I was hot enough that my tank top would do for now, and the corridor outside had been surprisingly cozy deeper into the base. Seeing as the wall behind me wasn’t ice cold, I figured they must have had some kind of heating system run through the entire complex. Geothermal springs, maybe? Nate expertly caught my shirt, then watched me as I started putting the remainder of my clothes where they belonged. After spending weeks bundled up, it was downright weird to only be wearing a layer or two.
As I straightened, he caught me in a last, lingering, bordering-on-sweet, kiss, but I already knew that what he was about to say next would make me want to punch him. Time for admitting I was awesome was obviously over.
“Bree, promise me one thing.” I raised my brows at him, prompting him to let me have it. “Never, ever even think about producing a sex tape.”
I burst out laughing, incapable of holding back. Of all the things he could have said, that was the last I’d expected. It took me a few seconds to get a grip on myself. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why should I never, ever make a sex tape?”
“Because the sounds you were uttering were the absolute opposite of what anyone would find titillating.”
That got me braying all over again. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
“Because you were annoying as fuck, which served as a distraction,” my dear husband let me know.
Pursing my lips, I wondered if I should tell him that this was not the impression I’d gotten, but left it at something between a leer and a smile. “That’s on you then, isn’t it? Whatever floats your boat.”
He made as if to come after me but—sadly—thought better of it. The frown appearing on his forehead reminded me that the fun time was over now.
“How are we going to play this once we walk out of here?” I asked. “There are only so many ways they could have found out who I am, and while I’m very happy to bank on their goodwill, I’m not going to trust the French unless they give me a very good reason to.” It was kind of funny to realize that while I was convinced that Elle had no ulterior motives besides thanking us for helping her people, I just knew there was trouble brewing on the horizon. If it wasn’t going to come from the French, I was sure Hamilton would jump into that breach.
Nate looked positively nonplussed. “They seem to have taken a liking to you—“
“Unexpectedly, you mean?”
“Unexplainable with what we know right now,” he corrected. “Until we know why, we have to play it by ear. I say we do what’s worked so far.”
“You mean, I do all the talking and you do all the sulky glowering?”
I was surprised that my barb hit home, but probably shouldn’t have. Bucky’s revelations about what had been going on behind the scenes in his camp had had a sobering effect on me. I could only guess at how much that had upended Nate’s plans.
“It only makes sense you take the lead for now. Weasel all the information you can out of them. Then we’ll decide together what we do with it.” He hesitated, then added, “As much as it pains me to say, don’t deliberately antagonize Hamilton unless you absolutely have to. Until we know what his mission is really about, all we can do is flail blindly in the dark, hoping to get a lucky hit in. I know you are tempted to use any leverage you could gain here for payback. Don’t. Be diplomatic and kill his people with kindness. They’ve had years seeing you as my plaything. You did a lot over the past few days to show them that you’re a force to be reckoned with. Force them to reckon.”
That left a bitter taste on my tongue, but I nodded my agreement without protest or hesitation. “Anything else?”
Nate was already shaking his head when someone started banging against the door to our little hidey-hole, or kicking the living shit out of it from how it sounded. “Time for you cockroaches to scuttle back into the light!” none other than my beloved Capt. Hamilton shouted, loud enough to make me hunch my shoulders. As soon as I realized that I was doing it, I suppressed the impulse. Nate and I shared another look, the anger in his gaze nicely mirroring my own. Had he always been that bad about keeping a lid on it and I just hadn’t realized it? Or was that powder keg about to blow?
“Coming!” I shouted, then couldn’t help but giggle when my gaze fell on the stained thermal in Nate’s hand. “Or I have been, repeatedly,” I added more levelly, garnering myself another flat stare. “Oh, come on! That was funny. Actually…” I trailed off there, considering. “Do I look freshly fucked? Because for maximum impact, I think I should.”
While generally not one to rebuke my advances, Nate preferred to play it more low key than that. I expected one of his usual barbs, something that would leave me just exasperated enough that it was easy for me to cut down on my apprehension on coming face to face with Hamilton and let me appear cocky and without a care. What I didn’t expect was for Nate to come for me, slamming me against the still-shut door, to start downright devouring my mouth while shoving his hands down my slightly loose pants. After getting off only minutes ago, I was sensitive enough that it really didn’t take much until I was screaming against his lips, no more than a muffled moan making it out. That Hamilton continued to throw a tantrum outside barely registered.
So worth it.
Leaning back against the door—quite contentedly—I donned a grin in between my slowing pants. “Or, you know. You could go out there and stop holding back. Take control. Be the guy again who told me not to be stupid and let my quest for tampons be derailed by political-correctness-motivated stupidity.”
Nate answered with a wry smile that turned sarcastic within seconds. “So that’s the part you’re never going to let me live down?” When all he got was a blank stare, he shrugged. “Yes, I could d
o that, but it would be so much smarter if I didn’t. Because the first thing I would do would be to kill Hamilton. Then I would have to kill the four or five of his people who’d take grave offense, ultimately leaving us with too few people to complete whatever his mission is, I’m sure.”
“Who says we should complete it?”
Now Nate’s expression turned condescending. “Oh, come on. We both know that we both have too much bloodhound in us to just quit now, even more so after losing five or six good people to the cause already.”
“That you had to kill,” I stressed. “And not sure that ‘good’ moniker befits anyone lurking out there in the corridor right now.”
Nate ignored my barb. “I gave my word, and even if you seem to value you doing the same less than I feel comfortable with, I saw how excited you got when Cole dropped that little snippet about why we’re here. You wouldn’t miss the chance to find out if my brother actually found a cure for the side effects of our untimely expiration or not.”
The accusation in his voice irked me more than I liked to admit—and also more than the hint of gloating he couldn’t hide as he revealed that last observation.
“I would keep an oath that I felt wasn’t forced at gunpoint by people I only trust as far as knowing I can’t trust them,” I insisted.
“You don’t even try to deny that I’m right.”
“Why should I? Yes, if there’s a chance your brother found a cure—and, likely, by extension a cure for the zombie plague—I want to know. I doubt they would have carted us halfway around the world on a wild guess.” I paused there, thinking—and also wondering if that was a byproduct of the serum screwing with my mind as well, but doubted it. If it furthered my knee-jerk reactions, I doubted the reinforcing reflection would help. I was likely just mellow because I felt really good right now—and a little high.
Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 3 | Books 7-9 Page 75